"Vampire," Bertie repeated as he scrambled to his feet. He laughed weakly, almost hysterically. "You're a vampire, this is Kansas, the year is 2012 and the apocalypse is occurring."
Now that she wasn't bouncing around cheerfully and offering him that dreadful cold coffee drink she no longer seemed at all loony. There was a dark and serious something-or-other to her expression that made the notion that she was several hundred years old seem believable. Well, that and the face and the teeth.
"A vampire," he repeated. "Well. Well, well, well. Makes my Aunt Agatha seem a lot less daunting, eh? Eh?" Another hysterical giggle escaped. He was beginning to believe her.
Bertie drew a deep breath, wishing he had Jeeves with him. Jeeves would know what to do. Dash it all, even Barmy Fotheringay Phipps, who regularly forgot his own address, would be a comforting presence in the circs.
"Right. Well. I suppose it's out of the q. that this is all just a jolly prank by some of the Drones?" he asked, one last attempt to regain normality.