"I love my gloves," purred Red. "Just because a chap occasionally has to strangle his foes with his almost-bare hands doesn't mean he has to mess up his Mani-cure."
He chuckled. "Did you like what I did with the word? Man-icure. Because I'm male and I get manicures and pedicures as often as my schedule allows."
Liz sighed. "The pun doesn't really work unless it's written down," she said. Quietly.
"I'm very particular about my medical grade gloves," continued Red. "I have a severe allergy to latex. Rather unfortunate, as that means that I have dozens of children all round the world. Any one of whom could pop up as my nemesis of the week."
"I have siblings?" squeaked Liz.
Red ignored this. If she had really believed him to be her father, or any blood relative, she would have arranged for a DNA test. He knew it and she knew it. Ressler knew it. Everyone knew it.
"Fortunately," continued Red, opening up a new box of gloves, "Non-latex gloves are increasingly popular. I have my own particular favourite brand, of course."
"Of course you do," muttered Liz. "Hand-made by artisans, imported from somewhere obscure and ten times as expensive as the other makes."
Red was somewhat taken aback that Liz knew him so well. He had considered himself to be a Manicured Man of Mystery.
"Money means nothing to me," he stated. "I am rich beyond belief." He donned a pair of gloves. "Now to clear up all the blood and stuff that I have left all over this nice living room. I wonder where Dembe has got to."
"DON'T TOUCH THE GLOVES!" shrieked Dembe, bursting into the room very fast. "They're latex!" Alas, poor Dembe fell over and twisted both ankles before he could reach Red.
There was also no time for him to explain which of Red's numerous foes had effected the switch - and how.
Red sat down, heavily. He tried to speak. His face looked frightened - and blotchy.
"He carries an epi-pen in his coat!" yelled Dembe. "And in his hat! And his waistcoat."
Liz retrieved a gold-plated epi-pen from Red's hat. "I know how to do this! I plunge it right into his throat, don't I?"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
But was it too late?