Blue Thing, Randalf, Fran, Hani, Napoleon and Captain Dark-matter, huddled together on the corner sofa, waited for the pensive Viktor to announce the reason for the meeting. Stood with his chin resting on the L-shape created by his thumb and index finger, he mused on how to present the information in a way that would garner the most productive reaction from the group.

'Well?' said Napoleon.

'Yes of course. Sorry. So. . . . the owner of the building has been murdered.'

'Ray is dead? Blue Thing stood and theatrically put his hands on the side of his head. Viktor scowled.

'No, God no . . not Ray.' Fran added, closing her ears around her eyes.

Viktor, already exasperated, 'No, what? . . what the hell is wrong with you? . . our landlady is Margaret Garrity. There is no person here called Ray.'

'Fat? Comes in with banana bread?' Napoleon rasped with a thick Glaswegian accent, almost mockingly.

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'Yes, thats right . . banana bread.'

'Pretty sure that's Ray, Vik.' Napoleon shook his head and chuckled as if Viktor had gone mad, then took a sip from his coffee mug.

'Okay, so remember the time we were invited to the Iron Man 3 premier in London and you kept calling Robert Downy Jr, Julie?'

'Yeah.' They murmered.

'Same thing.'

After some excellent work helping to catch and prosecute a coercive nomadic cult in Sussex, Viktor had been invited with guests to a series of prestigious events in the capital. Having all attended a sing-along Sound of Music screening the night before, five of the group mistook the Iron Man actor for Julie Andrews and addressed him as such for the entirety of the after-party. They all made various sounds of acknowledgment when Viktor announced the news he knew would send them all into terror fueled rapture.

'There's more . . . . her body was flayed . . . . and directly below a heptagram.'

There was stunned silence. With none of them knowing what to say to the other, each displayed their disbelief with a near catatonic staredown of Viktor.

'I thought you said they wouldn't be back?' announced Randalf, generally the most measured of the group. It had been him that suffered the most when the parabolics had last surfaced. He rubbed his arm where the creature had been latched, a memory best forgotten, now set to disturb his sleep for the coming weeks.

'Well, they are. We always thought there might be more of them. Now we know.'