Still later that evening, The Incredibly Suicidal Jay describes the illusion in question from the stage of a tiny cabaret for the benefit of the few bored, drunk, yawning patrons who have bothered to show up. Basically, Jay straps himself to a table, above which hang ten sharp swords. Once Charlie -- acting as Jay's assistant -- draws a backlit curtain around the contraption, through which we can see only the silhouettes of Jay and the blades above him, Jay will have a certain limited amount of time to escape his bonds before the swords plummet down through his body. Backstage, Vernon makes the sign of the cross while Charlie retrieves a crème brûlée torch he uses to theatrically light a fuse that'll eventually burn through the rope suspending the swords. Back on the table, Jay wriggles and struggles a bit with his binds, but it's pretty clear he's making little real effort to free himself. DUN!
Meanwhile, across town, Drunk Vance staggers from the bar and, after exchanging a few curt words with his assistant, stumbles off down the sidewalk.
Back in the cabaret, the soundtrack gets tense with violins as Jay struggles and struggles and struggles some more, with that fiery fuse all the while drawing closer to the swords' rope. Just as Vernon places a horrified fist to his mouth, the rope burns through, and the entire sword contraption slams down upon the still-struggling silhouette of Jay.
At that instant, Drunk Vance staggers to a halt, stricken, and clutching at his chest. With a strangled grunt, he collapses out of the frame down to the sidewalk, just as...
...Jay flings aside the curtains, entirely unharmed! The sparse cabaret crowd leaps to its feet as one for a standing ovation with cries of "Amazing!" and after a hesitant, shocked, apparently disbelieving pause, Charlie joins them in the applause while...
...Drunk Vance sprawls dead on the sidewalk, his dark hair fluttering in the breeze as ten slitted wounds beneath his tuxedo shirt open up to ooze blood through the white fabric. "GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Raoul howls, and while your faithful recapper's faithful recapping companion writhes about upon his overstuffed armchair in somewhat boozy bliss, Dead Vance and his slowly seeping wounds drip all the way down into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!
Flutter, Flutter RAAAWWWR! "Eeeeeeeeeeeee!" shrieks Raoul, once more with delight now that the memory of the late unpleasantness which recently marred his usual enjoyment of the title card has passed from his mind. "What unpleasantness?!" Never mind. "Okay!"