The door to April Dancer's apartment opened slowly with a long, slow high-pitched creak. It was excruciating to Napoleon as the sound gave him the shivers.

Once the door opened he and Illya were greeted by a strange sight; instead of Dancer's usually over the top party decorations for her annual Halloween party, the place was empty.

Well not quite empty, sitting motionless on four chair were what looked like mannequins, clothed in long period piece floor length dresses. Another odd feature was the fact that they appeared to be partially bald, as if the tops of their heads had been shaved, while the rest of their noggin's were covered with long flowing hair. One was a redhead, then a brunette, the next one was a blonde and the last had black hair.

Neither agent was dressed in a costume, as was their usual custom since they were merely stopping in for a drink or two before departing to JFK for an overseas assignment.

Initially Napoleon was pleased as he wouldn't have to deal with another of Illya's Halloween costume tricks. One year Kuryakin managed to create a walking robotic skeleton, convincing Solo it was the Russian...but it wasn't, then another year he showed up as a cat burglar in a plain black mask and his usual turtleneck and black suit...while at the same time he appeared in a grey werewolf costume.

Of course the wily Russian denied they were his tricks, and that frustrated Napoleon to no end.

"Please tell me this isn't one of your crazy illusions tovarisch?" Napoleon scratched his head.

"I am standing right here beside you, not wearing a costume as we both agreed…"

"Then how do you explain that?" Napoleon pointed to the quartet of ...well, whatever they were?

"I cannot, nor can I explain April's absence, as well as that of any other guests. As you recall, her parties are always well attended. To use one of your phrases my friend...this is giving me the willies."

"Appropriate word usage my dear Kuryakin. Well, should we go inside or should we leave? I'm not feeling very comfortable with this either."

"Since there are no signs of food or drink, I vote to leave."

Napoleon laughed,"Leave it to you to focus on that."

Illya merely shrugged, but unexpectedly his eyes opened wide in disbelief. He raised his hand, pointing at the four figures.

They'd risen from their chairs, with their arms extended in front of themselves and slowly they began to shuffle towards Solo and Kuryakin.

"Cyborgs?" Napoleon blurted out. "Not again!"

Unlike the fembots from 'The Do-it-yourself-Dreadful Affair" these things now moved quickly, and charged towards the agents.

The two men immediately drew their guns and fired, well...attempted to fire. Nothing happened when they pulled the triggers.

The redheaded bot grabbed Solo by the throat, and he immediately collapsed, having had the life choked out of him. His body fell to the floor with a dull thud.

Illya scrambled backwards, falling to the floor; he attempted to scuttle away crablike, from the killer cyborgs.

As he got to his feet he continued to move backwards, trying to put some distance between himself and the cyborgs. Suddenly he felt a pair of powerful arms envelop him, pinning his own arms as he squirmed to free himself.

"Arrrrrgh!" He cried out, helpless.

Napoleon stood up, his face red as he burst out laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks.

"Finally, got you!"

The red haired cyborg pulled off a mask, revealing the face of April Dancer.

The other cyborgs removed their masks one by one, and it was Mark Slate who'd pinned Illya's arms.

"Not funny!" Kuryakin blurted out, his nostrils flaring in anger.

"Think of it as payback for all the tricks you've pulled on us."

"Fine, ha ha. So you got me...but tell me one thing if the four cyborgs were April, Wanda, Lisa Rogers and Mark, then who is that?" Illya pointed to another person standing at the other end of the hallway.

Dressed just like the others, this unknown fembot walked slowly towards them, its arms raised with open, claw like hands reaching for them.

"April, who else was in on this?" Napoleon asked.

"Just the five of us rest of the guests aren't due to arrive for another forty-five minutes. Hey, who may I ask are you?" She called to the newest addition.

It said nothing, and began moving its hands in clawing motions, seemingly preparing to attack.

"I don't know about you, but I think we should get out of here mates," Mark said.

They all took off down the hall, and took the emergency stairs... that was everyone except Kuryakin who stood apparently mesmerized.

He suddenly broke into a huge grin. "Well done Heather!"

She pulled off her mask, and held out her free hand. "Hey Illya a deal is a deal; you owe me twenty bucks."

He pulled out his wallet and withdrew the bill "Thank you, it was a job well done, and well worth the money."

"Hey, how did you find out they were going to prank you?"

"That my dear will always be a secret," he winked. He offered his arm to her, escorting her downstairs to let the others know that he'd got them again...