But Eddie wasn’t looking at Jack. Eddie was looking down upon his other self. “Damn fine-looking bear,” said Eddie to his own self. “Anders Imperial. Cinnamon plush coat …”

Down below, backstage, the other Eddie and the other Jack were unpacking the contents of the suitcases and assembling some rather snazzy-looking hi-tech equipment.

Above, Jack’s motions to Eddie became ever more frantic. Jack sought things to throw at the bear.

Eddie gawped at his other self. It was a damn fine-looking bear, but what was it? Spaceman? Space chicken? What? Where had it come from? Why did it look like him? Why was it doing whatever it was it was doing? And whatever was it doing?

Eddie now glanced in Jack’s direction. Jack seemed to be doing a foolish dance.

“Spanner!” mouthed Jack. “Release the chandelier,” he mouthed also.

“Ah,” went Eddie. “Oh, yes.”

Beneath the two detectives, their other selves, the other Eddie and the other Jack, appeared to have concluded the setting up of their hi-tech and Hellish apparatus. The Jack was now adjusting settings, twiddling dials, making final preparations.

Eddie on high laboured with the spanner – not easy between teddy paws – at the great nut and bolt that secured the chandelier to the ceiling above.[18]

Ballet dancers twisted and twirled. The villain, who wouldn’t get around to stabbing the hero until at least the third act, did more posturing and glowering with his eyebrows. The orchestra did the slow bit that involved violins.

The other Jack did straightenings up and rubbings of his hands.

Eddie struggled with the spanner. It was a tricky nut.

Jack glanced here and there and everywhere, down at the dancers, up at Eddie, down at their other selves, out towards the orchestra. Jack felt helpless. He was helpless.

Eddie continued his struggling, but the tricky nut wouldn’t budge.

“What do I do? What do I do?” Jack took to flapping his hands and doing a kind of tap dance.

Something tweaked him hard in the groin. Jack ceased his kind of tap dance.

“Ow,” went Jack. “Who did that to me?”

His groin got tweaked once again.

“Stop it! Oh, it’s you.” And Jack drew Wallah from his trenchcoat and held her to his ear.

“My calculations regarding the nut-turning potential of the bear would appear to be incorrect by a factor of one-point-five,” said Wallah. “It will be necessary for you to jump from the gantry onto the chandelier and turn the nut yourself. Do take care to cling onto something safe when the chandelier falls.”

“What?” went Jack.

“It’s a calculated risk,” said Wallah. “And as I will be with you and I care about you, believe me, it is the product of most careful and meticulous calculation.”

“I can’t do that,” said Jack. “I can’t.”

Eddie struggled hopelessly to turn the nut.

Lights began to pulse on the hi-tech apparatus far below.

“No,” said Jack. “I can’t. I can’t.”

A big white light began to grow backstage.

“No,” said Jack. And he climbed onto the handrail of the gantry. “No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I … ooooooh.”

And Jack leapt into the wide blue yonder, as it’s sometimes known. And he soared, as in slow motion, and struck the mighty crystal chandelier. And did scrabblings. And did clawings. And did grippings. And did holdings on.

And did sighings.

And.

“Hello there, Jack,” said Eddie. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“They’re …” Jack huffed and puffed and clung on also and climbed a bit, too, until he was level with Eddie. “They’re going to blast the orchestra. We have to drop the chandelier upon them.”

“Such was my plan,” said Eddie, “but I cannot shift the nut.”

“Let me.” And Jack took the spanner.

And down below the other Jack’s fingers hovered above a big red button. And the other Jack looked down towards the other Eddie. And the other Jack smiled and the other Eddie smiled back. And those smiles were evil smiles. And the other Jack’s finger pressed down upon the blood-red button.

And above, Jack fought with the tricky nut. “It’s a tricky nut,” said he.

“Get twisting,” howled Eddie, looking fearfully below. “Oh no – something terrible’s happening.”

The white and awful light spread out from the hi-tech whatnot. It penetrated the rear of the stage flat, emerged through the painted backdrop and spread out onto the stage. The ballet dancers shielded their eyes, ceased their pirouetting and fled in confusion. The clockwork orchestra engaged in orchestration played on regardless, regardless.

“Twist the blighter,” Eddie further howled.

The awful light flooded the stage.

Other howls went up now, these from the audience. The explosion of light blinded their eyes and folk rose from their seats in confusion.

Jack got a purchase upon that nut. “I think it’s giving!” he said.

The other Jack adjusted controls, did twistings of his own of buttons rather than nuts. The terrible light swept out from the stage and dipped down into the orchestra pit.

And it fell upon the orchestra. Musicians rose to take flight, to escape from a terrible something. Dread. And panic. And confusion.

“Hurry, Jack, hurry!” cried Eddie.

“I’m hurrying.” Jack put his back to his work. The chandelier swung beneath him. Crystals shook. Jack forced at the nut, and the nut began slowly to turn.

But now terrible cries and screams came from the orchestra.

And terrible cracklings and poppings and sounds of hideous horribleness.

“Swing it,” cried Eddie. “As you turn that nut, swing the chandelier – we have to drop it right on top of these monsters. And quick please, Jack, the musicians are dying. They’re killing them, Jack.”

“I’m trying. I’m trying. Oh!”

And off came the nut, away from the bolt.

And …

“Nothing’s happening!” Jack shouted.

“You’ll have to kick the bolt out,” Eddie shouted back.

“And how will I do that?”

“Use this!”

The voice came in a shouted form from the lighting gantry. Upon this now stood the Phantom of the Opera. He held a hammer in his hand.

“Catch it and knock out the bolt.” And the Phantom threw the hammer. And Jack caught the hammer. And Jack used the hammer. And Jack knocked out the bolt.

And then things happened in sort of slow motion. In the way that they would if this were a movie (instead of real life, as it obviously was!).

Jack knocked out the bolt.

And the bolt spiralled away into space.

And the chandelier fell (in slow motion, of course).

And the light beneath penetrated the orchestra, bored its way into their very beings, sucked away at their very soul-stuff.

And the chandelier fell.

And with it fell Eddie and Jack.

And down went that chandelier. Down and down upon the other Jack and the other Eddie, who at its coming down looked up to see it doing that very thing.

And down too went Eddie and Jack.

And the orchestra, writhing and dying in the terrible light.

And the chandelier falling.

And now the Phantom, gripping a dangling rope. Swinging down from the gantry.

And the chandelier falling.

And the other Jack and the other Eddie looking up.

And the orchestra dying.

And the Phantom swinging (normal action now, not slow motion).

And he gathers up Jack and Eddie as they fall, sweeps onward, lands them and himself all safely upon another gantry, just lower down on the other side of the stage.

Nice work.

And the chandelier smashes down (normal action).

And explodes.

Into a million crystal fragments.

Spiralling crystals fly in all directions, which you can do really well with CGI nowadays.

And the awful light dies.

And things go very dark.

And very still.

And cut!