"I'm the original; you came out of that camera."
"Someone is going to have a time proving it," replied the image Foster.
"Yeah," drawled the real Foster, "that's what I'm counting on!"
From within his coat, Foster took a revolver. Holding it on his image,
Foster replaced the tube and watched the scene resume, with a third
Foster going through its paces. He snapped off the camera and the set
disappeared, leaving the bare stage. He wiped his fingerprints from the
place and then nudged the image Foster with the revolver.
"Out," he snapped, pointing with the gun barrel.
They went--in a death march.
A half hour later, the real Foster handed his image a drink. "Drink
deeply," he said sarcastically. "You needn't be afraid to die--you
never lived, you know."