“Chicken World?” said Eddie. “There really is a Chicken World?”

“Of course. And one with no natural predators. And you would be surprised at just how many chickens a single rooster can, how shall I put this, ‘get through’ in a single day. The chickens are looking to expand – to your world, to this one. Once all the indigenous inhabitants have been, how shall I put this?”

“Murdered?” Eddie suggested.

“That’s probably the word. Or a least subdued. So I took an overview of the denizens of Toy City. In this world, the young, and indeed the old, just love toys. Especially special toys. Collectables. They just love them. And so, I thought, why not have the toys of Toy City work for us, to aid us in our plans for expansion.”

“You sick, and how shall I put this? Bastards!” said Eddie.

“Tut, tut, tut. It’s business – and survival, of course. Imagine, if you will, travelling to another world and discovering that its inhabitants feasted upon your kind. Bred them, slaughtered them and ate them. That is what the pilots of the first chicken craft, the one that crashed here in the desert near Roswell in nineteen forty-seven, discovered. One lone survivor was brought here to this establishment. Happily he was able to communicate, to make deals in order to ensure his survival. And when he offered an alternative to all the eating of his own kind that went on here, by demonstrating that it was possible, using advanced chicken technology, to mass-produce ersatz chickens and eggs at a fraction of the cost of real ones, the humans went for it. Fools that they are. And there you have it.”

“No,” said Eddie. “That’s not fair. I assume that you intend to have me killed. Am I correct in this assumption?”

The other Eddie shook his head.

“No?” said Eddie Bear.

“No,” said his other self. “You will die – and shortly, too – but not at my hands. Your kind cannot survive in this world. There is a certain, how shall I put this, magic to your kind. We remain unable to discover just how the kindly, lovable white-haired old Toymaker imbues toys with life. But toys cannot live here. Surely you noticed when you arrived here – your companion’s watch ceased to work, then his weaponry.”

“You saw that?”

“We see all. Remember, you and Jack were abducted and implanted with homing beacons up your bums. We’ve known where you were from the start. Jack’s watch soon failed, then his weaponry and then that calculating pocket of his –”

“Wallah,” said Eddie. “He nicked it from Tinto. I should have known. That’s how he figured out about the Opera House.”

“Wallah is dead and you will soon die,” said the other Eddie. “Sad but true. So I suppose it will do no harm to explain the rest. By channelling the very essence, the very soul-stuff of those toys, the monkeys, the band, the orchestra, and soon all of your kind, by drawing out their essence and funnelling it into free giveaways to promote the sale of our special chicken, we eliminate all competition. No real chickens will be eaten on this world again. And within one year, after the release of the movie, when the Golden Chicken chain goes global and every chicken that is eaten is one of our special chickens, this world will be ours.”

“I don’t quite follow how,” said Eddie.

“Because,” said Eddie’s other self, “our special chicken has rather special qualities. It is, for one thing, highly addictive. The more you eat, the more you want to eat. The population of this world will grow fatter and fatter and they will also grow more and more aggressive as we up the dosages of certain hormones. By the turn of the next century this country, so well known for its love of democracy and justice, will begin to invade Middle Eastern states. And here, the religion of this world, well, at least one of them, which prophesies something called Armageddon, will prove correct in its prophecy. The world of men will wipe itself out. There will be no more men. And then the chicken population, having already expanded into your world, will take over this one as well. There’s plenty of room here for a long time yet.”

“And when there isn’t?” Eddie asked.

“Then the chickens will continue onwards.”

“Well, bravo to the chickens,” said Eddie Bear.

“What?” said Eddie’s other self.

“I said, bravo. What else can I say? I suppose that whoever is at the top of, how shall I put this, the ‘food chain’ wins the race for survival. And why would I expect chickens to respect my kind? Men do not respect my kind. The men of Toy City, the P.P.P.s, have no respect for toys. Bravo the chickens, I say.”

“You are taking this very well, considering.”

“Considering what? That I am soon to die? I’m resigned to it now, I suppose. How long do I have, by the way?”

“A few hours, perhaps.”

“I thought so,” said Eddie. “I’ve been growing weirder ever since I got here. I’m not inside myself for much of the time. But then what can I say? I’ve had a good life, really, a long life, and I’ve done interesting things. Dying won’t be so bad. I suppose.”

“I find that really quite moving,” said Eddie’s other self.

“It comes to us all,” said Eddie. “It will come to you too, eventually.”

Eddie’s other self gave Eddie Bear another shoulder pat.

“Could I have a bit of a hug?” asked Eddie.

“Yes, indeed you can.” And Eddie’s other self gave a big hug to Eddie.

“And could I ask you just one little favour?”

“Go on then, just ask.”

“Well,” said Eddie, “I know that Jack shot down one of the chickens’ flying saucers. But I personally didn’t have any part in that, so I was wondering, do you think I could meet to one of the chickens before I die? Just to say hello, just to try to understand. The King of all the chickens, perhaps.”

“It’s the Queen, actually.”

“Then do you think I could meet her, perhaps? Is she here, in this complex?”

The other Eddie grinned from ear to furry ear.

“She is,” said Eddie. “She is here, isn’t she?”

The other Eddie nodded his grinning head. “Oh yes she is,” he said.

“And do you think she might grant me an audience?”

“Well, she might. But I’m not quite certain why she would. You see, she’s a little busy at the moment.”

“I wouldn’t take up much of her time,” said Eddie. “Because I don’t have much time, do I?”

“No, that’s true. But she is very busy, coordinating the final phase of the Toy City project.”

“The final phase?” asked Eddie.

“Tonight – well, within the hour – the task force will fly from here, through The Second Big O of the Hollywood sign, into your world and gather up the remaining denizens of Toy City. To be franchised.”

“All of them?” said Eddie.

“So you see, she is rather busy.”

“Well, it was just a thought.”

The other Eddie looked hard at Eddie Bear. “You really are taking this very well,” he said.

And Eddie Bear shrugged.

And then a sound was to be heard. A terrible sound, as of sirens.

“What was that?” asked Eddie.

“A breach of security.”

“Jack?”

“Not Jack. I will have to take us aloft.”

“Do what you have to,” said Eddie.

And through some means that Eddie did not understand, but which evidently involved the application of advanced chicken technology, Eddie’s other self took the flying disc aloft and soon they were back in the chicken-poo-splattered room.

And the other Eddie was back behind his desk and viewing TV screens.

“Most inconvenient,” he said. “It would seem that we have a heavy police presence above.”

“Really?” said Eddie. “Why?”

“Well, that,” and the other Eddie pointed to a screen that displayed the sweating face of a large and bandaged black man who was struggling from a grounded helicopter, “is LA Police Chief Samuel J. Maggott. He arrested your chum Jack, who later escaped from police custody and found his way to the Haley’s Comet Lounge. It was from there that your chum was directed to come here.”