“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 cannons added to the tanks’ assault. Toys of all varieties issued into the streets, many, in the more disreputable parts of town, toting illegal weaponry that they too discharged skywards.
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]
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 cannot be killed so easily,” said this head, “for I am Henrietta, Queen of all the hens.”
“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 cannot be allowed to happen. This craft must return to Area Fifty-Two. We will return here tomorrow and destroy every inch of Toy City. But for now, you and this abominable bear must die. Right now.”
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.
48
As opposed to starboard. As ships of all varieties are wont to do in this kind of situation.