Esmeralda, her foot still in pain from her little interlude with torturers in "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", staggered to her foot, and shouted, 'Oi! CapK! No double-posting!!!!'

After counting to ten the pain in Esmeralda's foot ebbed and the swelling subsided. This time was long enough for the glint to return to her paramour's eyes and, on seeing this, she smiled askew, and hopped on her single leg towards the bed. Oblivious to all but her lover's glance she failed to notice the axel grease smudge on the bedroom floor left by her mechanical exploits from the previous night. It was too late! She skidded and pirouetted about the room like a ballerina on rollerskates, jetering neatly across footstools, cushions, boudoirs and hampers. One would award her marks for technical excellence if it were not for the tragic circumstances about to unfold. Looming fast before her was the open door and the cavernous stairwell drop to the cellar floor.

'Esmeralda!!', her lover cried as she lunged into the void and the darkness swallowed her up. He darted out of bed and over to the door just as a crashing sound came up from the unseen below. 'What is to become of me??' he began melodramatically. Rushing to his clothes he pulled a dagger by the hilt from out of its scabbard. With all the pomp of a Shakespearean actor he raised the blade to the light and mumbled a soliloquy and then with closed eyes he thrust the dagger towards his body....