The Toyminator

The Eddies bowled over and over, punching and biting and suchlike.

Dorothy dropped down nimbly into the pilot’s seat.

“Do you know how to fly this?” asked Jack, swaying about in an alarming fashion.

“Now would be the time to learn.” And Dorothy yanked back the steering wheel.

The craft shot upwards, narrowly missing another craft that was rapidly on the descent.

This one struck police headquarters. Mercifully empty. Although Chief Inspector Bellis’s entire collection of dolly porn went to ashes.

“Whoa!” went Jack, a-steadying himself.

The Eddies did further tumbling.

Separated.

Fell in different directions.

Dorothy took control of the craft, levelled it out and put it into a circular holding pattern.

Jack snatched up his weapon as the two Eddies prepared to engage in further battle.

Explosions burst all around the circling saucer.

Remaining saucers poured down fire.

Greater fire was returned.

“Stop it, you two,” Jack told the squaring-up Eddies. “It’s all over now – will you stop.”

The Eddies glared at one another. “Shoot him, Jack,” said one.

“Don’t shoot me,” said the other one. “I’m the real Eddie. Shoot that one.”

Jack’s big gun swung from side to side.

“I’m not shooting anyone,” said Jack. “Land the craft, please, Dorothy.”

“That might be a problem,” said Dorothy. “The controls appear to be jammed.”

“Let me have a go at them,” said an Eddie.

“No, let me.” And an Eddie snatched up a fallen big gun.

The other Eddie rapidly did likewise. “Drop that gun,” he said.

“Drop your gun or I’ll shoot you dead.”

“Shoot him, Jack,” said an Eddie.

“No, shoot him, before he kills us all.”

Jack’s gun moved backwards and forwards and back.

Explosions rocked the craft.

Dorothy struggled at the controls. Said, “I think we’re going down.”

Eddies cocked their big guns both.

“Jack, shoot him,” said one. “I’m your bestest friend. You know it’s me. Shoot him, Jack.”

Guns were turning in all directions now. Upon both Eddies. Upon Jack. Even upon Dorothy.

Jack dithered, rightfully.

One Eddie said, “Jack, after everything we’ve been through together, you must know me. I’m your bestest friend. The bestest friend you’ve ever had.”

“Jack, don’t let this monster fool you. If you shoot me, he will shoot you, then both of us will be dead.”

“It’s a dilemma,” said Jack. And he flinched as another explosion rocked the ailing ship.

“It’s not a dilemma,” an Eddie said. “Go with your feelings, Jack. Do the right thing. You’ve always done the right thing, really. You can do the right thing now – it’s as simple as blinking.”

And there was another explosion.

And Jack’s big gun went off.

And Eddie looked down at another Eddie. This one with a hole in his belly. It was a big hole. A lethal hole. Smoke rose from this hole. Which went right through to the other side.

“You did it, Jack,” said the vertical Eddie. Turning his gun upon Jack. “Good boy.”

And …

Eddie dropped his gun. “How did you know for sure?” he asked.

“Because I know you,” said Jack. “He said, ‘As simple as blinking.’ You’d say, ‘As simple as.’”

“Well, that was simple,” said Eddie. “Well done.”

“Well done, nothing.” The perforated Eddie struggled to its feet and stood swaying on the swaying floor. “It’s not as simple as that,” said this Eddie. “I don’t die that easily.” And this Eddie put its paw to its head. And lifted it. Raised it from its shoulders, cast it aside.

Where it bounce-bounce-bounced across the cockpit floor.

And Jack looked on.

And Eddie looked on.

As the head of a chicken rose through the neck hole of the decerebrated bear. “I ca

“Henrietta?” said Jack. “Well, you’re a dead duck now.”

And he squeezed the trigger.

But nothing came from the barrel.

“Sorry,” said Queen Henrietta, and wing tips sprouted through the Eddie paws, and these scooped up a fallen gun and levelled it at Jack. “You have no idea what you’ve done,” said the Queen of all the chickens. “Were I to die, all my policies would be reversed by my successor. That ca

And the Queen of all the chickens squeezed the trigger.

And then gave a sudden shriek and fell in a jumbled heap.

“Dorothy,” said Jack. “You –”

“Wrung its scrawny neck,” said Dorothy. “Well, you’d have done the same for me. Wouldn’t you?”

Jack was about to say, “Yes.”

But he didn’t.

Jack instead said, “No!”

Because fire from below rattled into the craft.

And the craft turned upside down.

And then the Great Mother-Henship, the sole surviving member of the chicken strikeforce, dropped from the sky.

And, “No!” shouted Tinto. As it was coming his way.

And then there was another of those terrible explosions.

But no, not in slow motion.

Enough is enough is enough.

27

Chief Inspector Bellis looked all around and about himself.

A very great deal of Toy City appeared to be ablaze.

The bells of fire engines came to his ears.

The wreckage of his car once more to his eyes.

And the wreckage of the spaceship beyond.

“Well,” said Bellis, “that would appear to be that. Job jobbed, but goodness, I dread the paperwork.”

Amelie looked through her fingers. “Did we win?” she asked.

“Naturally, my dear. Most naturally.”

Amelie shook her beautiful head, beautiful, but drunk. “I am so impressed,” she said. “You saved Toy City. You are so a hero.”

“He wouldn’t have done so if I hadn’t tipped him off,” said a clockwork spaceman.

“Then you are so a hero.” And Amelie threw her arms around him.

“Oi!” said Bellis. “Not so fast. He would never have tipped me off if he hadn’t … How did you put it, spaceman?”

“Received a telepathic message,” said the spaceman. “From the other side of The Second Big O. A bear spoke unto me. Told me what was to occur. Said he kept going in and out of his body, whatever that meant.”

“Well, let’s not worry about that,” said Bellis. “And get your spaceman’s hands off my girlfriend.”

“Do you think there are any survivors?” asked Amelie, stroking the spaceman’s tin-plate chest. “And do spacemen have credit cards, by the way?”

“Big shiny gold ones,” said the spaceman.

“Survivors?” said Bellis, prising the hands of Amelie away from the spaceman’s helmet. “Aliens in need of shooting, now there’s a thought.” And reached towards his car, then reached away, for it smouldered.

“Shoot ’em with this,” said Tinto, wheeling through the doorway and presenting Bellis with a shotgun that he, as indeed do all barmen kept hidden beneath his bar counter.

Just in case.

Bellis took the shotgun and approached the craft.

It was pretty buckled up and smoking.

Some laughing policemen who had escaped a

The fallen craft had flattened several shops. It lay half upon its side.

And as Bellis approached, and so too the policemen, the hatchway slowly opened.

“Hands up, you aliens,” cried the chief inspector.

And struggling down from the hatchway came a tattered trio.

Jack was helping Eddie Bear. And Dorothy helped Jack.