You’d just walked into the hotel after a long day of work catching the end of a conversation between Charlie and Nifty

Charlie: “If you see an Angel stab it”

Charlie’s voice was cheerful as usual and bought you some sense of inner peace but Nifty’s eye gliding across toward you with an evil excited stare and her tiny legs running concerningly quickly toward you that feeling vanished replaced with confusion and realisation as the maid began chanting:

“Stab stab stab” in an excited tone.