We could have Malakhov's Albrecht about to expire before Myrtha and the Wilis, using his last gasp of energy to crawl (perhaps with Giselle's assitance) toward the cross -- where he tags Corella's Albrecht, who bounces in, fresh as a daisy, to take Malakhov's place. Suddenly Myrtha and the Wilis realize that they've go to do the dancing-to-death thing ALL OVER AGAIN from the beginning, with even flashier solos and brise volees by this Albrecht. By the time we get to Steifel, the Wilis have run out of steam and ectoplasm, and as the bell rings to signal the end of the match, they melt away in defeat, leaving the Four Albrechts free to search for new horizons to cross, or new milkmaids to ravish.
Oh, now I'm envisioning a La Sylphide with James played by Rowdy Roddy Piper. I need to take (several) sedatives and get some sleep.
See what this show made me do? It's all PBS's fault.