Not a job to be taken lightly, I imagine. Therefore I wonder why, if we’re taking the Castlevania series at face value, Dracula ends up with such wildly bizarre abodes. Is it simply the case that Dracula can’t help himself and has a nibble on each designer before they finish their grand vision? Or is it perhaps that Dracula, as an immortal symbol of pure evil, is stark raving bonkers and makes nothing but lunatic requests?

‘What I would like,’ Dracula would start with a coquettish grin, ‘Is for my dining room to be really high in the sky, probably in that huge unsupportable spire. And I’d like the only way to get there to be through a ruined chapel. Oh! And I’d like to make sure I could only get there if I was so hungry I was prepared to put some extra effort into my jumps.’

Imagined situation or not, fighting winged skeletons on the way to your grub is probably a better step to good health than inviting quack nutritionist Gillian McKeith round to poke through your poo. Yes, I imagine that Dracula’s average home having hundreds of rooms and only being navigable by forcing you to do more jumping than a night spent playing Dance Dance Revolution is how Dracula keeps his svelte figure.