He lunges towards Cherry like a crocodile erupting from the shallows, on her before she can move, knocking kidney pans and cutters into the air, scattering bagging tags and bone saws around them. His bulk crushes the air out of her, compounded by the horrid weight of the corpse he’s dragging behind him, whose free arm flops obscenely over his shoulder like a drunk mate at the pub.

She screams. He reaches his free hand towards her mouth and turns to shout again for his mentor. He’s halfway through Barratt’s name one more time when she sinks the needle into the side of his neck and shoves down the plunger. No more than a few seconds after, his eyes roll back and vanish into his head as the Liquid Cosh does its work.

Well that’s not very professional, Cherry. You’re supposed to inject Largactil into the muscle body rather than directly into the bloodstream. Just as well there’s no assessors around. In related news, she’s trapped under not one but two heavy, immobile bodies.