Yes, we come from a place where psychopaths, frequently endowed with paranormal powers, chase weirdly beautiful girls down halls of cream, crimson and gold. Our police’s ineffectiveness is explained by its chronic underfunding. Taxes are low in our world, hence our purchasing power disbursed on wonderful décor, glittering jewellery, cosmetic bingeing, pedigree cats and flash cars. At least our hospitals don’t have too much work – everyone is dead on arrival.

You have seen snapshots of our world in the films of Dario Argento and Lucio Fulci, Mario Bava and so forth. You’d be forgiven for thinking that we spend all night cutting each other up with silver knives, exploring run-down manors, standing behind flimsy doors, gasping as the executioner tries the door handle, slow.

Sure, there is a lot of that, but we also do other things. We walk down the park, fly kites on the beach, come back home with the shopping and cook a stir-fry. We go to the launderette and read classic sword and sorcery paperbacks while we wait for the dryer to finish. Perhaps influenced by romantic clichés from your own world, we furtively spy the clientele there, and dream of fortune and love found, about a safe night away from the wolves.