In retrospect, it was like staging Riverdance without a rehearsal. It didn't matter that you had everybody else lined up in a row. All the talk of careful choreography was just asking for trouble in a production whose two main stars lead with different feet.
For most of the day, in fact, events had proceeded with a stately grace that suggested dancing of the ballroom variety. Veteran instructor Tony Blair led the couples on to the floor with the announcement of elections, and probably gave his pupils some last-minute reminders: "First, place the hand of history on your partner's shoulder . . ."
Then Gerry Adams and P. O'Neill did their thing; Gen de Chastelain cut in and swept P. O'Neill off into a corner; and David Trimble glided on to perform his two-step with the general, who in turn was supposed to hand him back to Mr Adams.
Instead, suddenly, the UUP leader fled the dancefloor, clutching his dignity. It was unclear whether the hand of history had gone somewhere it shouldn't, or whether Mr Adams had just stood on his toes.
But either way, Bertie Ahern and Tony Blair, who'd booked each other for the last waltz, were outstanding.
Rather than a sequence of peace moves, we now had a sequence of crisis press conferences. The grave-faced Mr Trimble declared the process "on hold". An equally grave-faced Mr Adams said the first he knew of the UUP's difficulties was from the radio.
A party that knows the value of dress rehearsals, Sinn Féin is famous for taking its collective tie off on occasions, as if to say: "Our work is done". A measure of the crisis last night was that they did not resort to evening wear for a hastily convened conference on the Falls Road. From which, still in working suits, they headed for Hillsborough for emergency talks with the prime ministers.
Even before the process unravelled, West Belfast was sceptical. Typical of the mood on the Shankill yesterday was Mary Greer, who questioned Gen de Chastelain's credentials: "How do we know he's telling the truth?". And little as she trusted the general, she trusted Trimble even less: "Too much power and too much money."
Over on the Falls there was more confidence, although it didn't extend to the UUP leader. Waiting for a No 13 bus, Ann Donnelly expressed optimism on the prospects of a deal: "But to be honest, after the election, it's Adams and Paisley who'll have to work together."
Mr Paisley was unusually quiet last night. Maybe the man with the booming voice decided not to compete with Concorde which visited Belfast yesterday. It flew out just before tea-time, and it was hard to tell the sonic blast from the bang with which so much preparation came unstuck.