<As the very last credits disappear and the screen goes black, the camera pulls back from the screen and slowly pans back over the empty theatre. All that can be seen are a few upturned tubs of pop-corn, empty cups of zero-everything pop and a couple of serviettes rolling forlonly down the aisles like abandoned tumbleweeds.
Slowly, the camera pans back to the screen, which slowly, slightly brightens to reveal a moon-light desert landscape, pockmarked by square miles of devastation and destruction. A few fires still burn and drifts of smoke still weave their way towards the starry night sky.
Then slowly a barely audible rumbling moves gently over the landscape. A few trees, a couple of small lakes and a tiny mountain start moving, like
a Nick Park tribute to Gerry Anderson.
As the movement stops, the rumbling grows, and slowly, steadily, remorselessly Thunderbirds 1, 2 and 3 head into the air, followed by assorted other evil craft fleeing their ruined lair. Just visible through the windows are furry, black and white creatures menacingly moving evil levers and controls in a sinster and fightening fashion.
Except for the final craft. Although piloted by the same creatures, just visible in it before the craft disappears out of sight, are a different range of creatures. Some of who can be seen arguing. One appears robotic, but moves as if in pain on side; another appears part panda-part human. And then its gone. The identity and species of those mysterious others left unknown, as is the destination of this evil fleet or the plans they are preparing.
The image fades to black, and the curtains close, just as the terrifying immortal, acrane words "When in Hollywood, visit Universal Studios and ask for Babs" appear.
And the theatre lights come up.>