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“I like the uniform,” said Eddie. “Very dapper, it really suits you. Although it smells a bit.” And Eddie smiled as he said this, for his sense of smell had returned.

“Why, thank you,” said Jack. “And you’ve had a wash and brush-up, I see.”

“I’d rather not think about that,” said Eddie.

“Now just stop this nonsense,” said the other Eddie Bear. “You really should be dead!”

“I certainly would have been,” said Jack, “if it hadn’t been for Dorothy here.”

“Hi, Eddie,” called Dorothy.

“Hi, Dorothy,” called Eddie.

Chicken guards swung their weapons about, some aimed at Dorothy, some at Jack and some at Eddie Bear.

“Dorothy is not what she at first appears,” said Jack. “Which I am a little sad about, but we won’t go into that here. But she saved my life, pushed me out of the roof hatch in the lift, helped me cling to a dangling cable, that sort of thing. It was all very exciting.”

“Sounds so,” said Eddie. “It’s a shame I missed it. I spent the time being booted about by your doppelganger.”

“I know,” said Jack. “I felt your pain. I could feel what you were thinking.”

“And I could feel you too, Jack,” said Eddie. “Something to do with my condition on the other side of The Second Big O.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said the other Eddie, “all very interesting, I’m sure. But how did you get aboard this craft?”

“We sneaked on while Eddie kept you talking,” said Jack. “And now you must ask the guards to drop their guns or I will take great pleasure in shooting you dead.”

“Shoot me dead?” The other Eddie laughed some more.

“Oh, just shoot him, Jack,” said Eddie. “I’m sick of all his laughing.”

“Tell the guards to drop their weapons and land the craft now,” said Jack. “Oh and order all the other ships to turn back, tell them that the mission is aborted.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with,” said the other Eddie. “I will not land the craft, I will not abort the mission. In fact.” And he swung about in his chair and disengaged the autopilot. And also swung the steering wheel, which caused the craft to swing.

And chicken guards went tumbling and so did Eddie and Jack.

And Dorothy went tumbling, too.

The other Eddie didn’t tumble; he was strapped into his chair.

But he put the craft through a triple roll and the tumblers whirled all about.

“Kill them all!” shouted the other Eddie. “Fly, you foolish guards. Fly and shoot them, toss them off the ship.”

And squawking guards went fluttering.

And unpleasantness occurred.

“Such a pleasant night,” said Wellington Bellis, his perished arm now tight about Amelie’s waist. “Such a night for romance.”

“Calling all cars. Calling all cars,” the radio crackled in Bellis’s parked police car.

“Calling all cars?” said Wellington Bellis. “Now what might this be, I wonder?” And he detached himself from Amelie and shuffled over to the car, reached in through the open window and took up the toy microphone that was attached by a length of string to the dashboard. “What is all this commotion?” he said into it.

“Sir, sir – is that you, sir?”

“It’s me, yes. Is that you, Officer Chuckles?”

Special Officer Chuckles, yes sir. Calling all cars, I am.”

“And why are you calling all cars?”

“Because we are under attack, sir, from spaceships. They just blew up the remains of the old Toytownland sign. Half a dozen spaceships, sir, flying towards the city.”

“Have you been drinking, officer?”

“Of course I’ve been drinking, sir.”

“And where are you calling from?”

“From Tinto’s Bar, sir – I’m looking out of the back windows. The saucers are coming. We’re all go

“Out?” asked Bellis.

“Out,” said the voice of Tinto. “This is my telephone and it’s for use-of-barman only. Aaagh! Stop hitting me!”



“Flying saucers?” said Bellis.

And suddenly there they were.

Large as life in the Toy City sky. Great big saucers with blinking lights. The lead craft doing a sort of victory roll, the others flying steadily.

Bellis reached into his car and pressed buttons on his dashboard. “Action stations. Fire at will. Operation Save Our City is go!” And then he replaced the microphone and smiled towards Amelie. “Have no fear, my dear,” said Bellis. “Everything is under control.”

“The End Times are upon us,” gasped Amelie. Huskily. Sexily.

“Not a bit of it,” said Bellis, re-establishing himself at her side and offering her a comforting hug. “All will be attended to. I received a tip-off this morning from a clockwork spaceman. He told me an extraordinary tale, which I did not at first believe … Oh, duck, if you will.”

And Amelie ducked as a bolt of light swept down from above and carbonised Bellis’s car.

“As I was saying,” said Bellis, “an extraordinary tale. But I felt it prudent to take it at face value. So I put the Toy City Army on red alert. They’ll soon shoot those aliens out of the sky.”

“My hero,” said Amelie.

And the words of Bellis were no idle words. Well, he hadn’t risen to his present position of power through not being able to rise to the occasion. In fact, he intended to rise to the occasion with Amelie, quite shortly, when all the mayhem was over and done with.

“Excruciating,” said Tinto once more.

But then he had cause to duck.

A blinding light bore down into the bar.

Swept along the counter.

Crispy-crunchy husks of policemen toppled to the floor.

“Oi!” cried Tinto, rising from his duck and shaking a dextrous fist towards the ceiling. “There was a slight chance that they might have paid for their drinks.”

The saucers now criss-crossed the sky, beaming down their rays. And to the great surprise of the chicken pilots and death-ray crews, fire was now being returned at them from below.

“Go to it, lads,” cried the Grand Old Duke of York, who may not have actually had ten thousand men, but had been given command of a legion of clockwork tanks.

Tank barrels spat their shells towards the sky.

And as this was Toy City, those toy shells carried force.

“I’m hit,” squawked a pilot, but in chicken tongue.

The other Eddie levelled his craft. “Kill them all!” was the order he gave. “Prepare the nukes and kill them all.”

Eddie and Jack and Dorothy rolled about on the floor. Chickens fluttered above them, but they still held onto their guns.

Somehow!

“And please shoot this troublesome trio,” ordered the other Eddie. “And get it over and done with.”

And guns trained down on the troublesome trio.

And one of these leapt up.

She leapt up with a great degree of style, so stylish it could almost be called balletic.

And, as with all the best bits so far, it happened in good old-fashioned slow-mo – which, although it could be argued that there has been rather too much of it lately, it is exactly the way that this bit should and did happen.

Dorothy cartwheeled into the air and spun around, her left foot describing a wonderful circle, striking beak after beak-guarded beak, striking chickens from the air.

Eddie, in slow-mo, also leapt, towards his other self. He caught him a decent enough blow to the ear with the special tag and knocked him from his seat and seat belt. The two bears bowled across the cockpit. Things now became a bit tricky.

From beneath came vigorous gunfire. Toy ca

A stricken saucer plummeted down and struck Toy City Town Hall.

Gunfire ripped into the undercarriage of the Great Mother-Henship.

The Great Mother-Henship, now pilotless, slewed hideously to port.[48]

48

As opposed to starboard. As ships of all varieties are wont to do in this kind of situation.