They approached from opposite sides of the vast Missouri Plateau. The armies easily could have conjured themselves near to one another, but they had come to a silent agreement that the Great Battle to end times deserved a bit more gravitas. The apocalypse was to be ushered in slow. There was no rush when eternity was at stake.

              When the convergence could not logically be stalled any longer, they halted, looking their diametric foes up and down.

              Unsurprisingly, Gabriella spoke first.

              “It’s good to see you Lucille,” she said to the devilish woman in front of her.

              Lucille gave a nod, pulling at the edge of her sundress.

              “Wish I could say the same.”

              “Our lives have been building to this day,” said Gabriella, “let us not allow pettiness to ruin the moment, shall we?”

              “Of course not,” said Lucille, “I would hate for your last days to be mired by a lack of pleasantries.”

              Gabriella smiled weakly, huffing with its lack of authenticity.

              “So,” said Lucille pulling a wooden mace from somewhere off her back, “do we just start bludgeoning? Or is there a count down? A starting pistol? How are we doing this?”

              “Easy there, Luc, first some ground rules. My holy infantry would like to make a request.”

              “A request?” said Lucille, “I should’ve known.”

              Her mace buried deep, breaking earth. She rolled her eyes.

              “Just hear me out,” said Gabriella, “I think it’s something you can get behind.”

              “Oh yeah?” said Lucille, her skepticism continuing to rise with each word, “so what is this request?”

              “A soundtrack request. We would like to have “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” by the King of Pop playing during the battle.”

              A chorus of exuberant cheers erupted from behind Gabriella.

              When the hollering finally died, Lucille loosened her quizzical stare.

              “Michael, why Michael? He is one of ours-I just-”

              And then it snapped into place.

              “He doesn’t let you listen to Michael up there, does he?”

              Gabriella balked at the accusation, giving up the lie quick as she had taken it on.

              “How dare-shame on-We don’t want to listen to that man’s music anyways. We just think it would fit this particular dark and dramatic occasion.”

              “Right, I forgot how dark and dramatic ‘Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough’ is with Michael’s falsetto and ‘hee-hee’s’”

              Lucille exaggerated the final utterance, striking her most MJ of poses.

              “It’s called sonic dissonance! and it is meant to strike a tone for-you know what, it’s not worth it. It’s our request. What do you say?”

              Lucille took a moment, basking in her ability to annoy Gabriella for perhaps one final time.

              “Sooooo?” said Gabriella again.

              “You know, Beelzebub has his own songs on the no-play list. Maybe we would like something like that of our own. What do you think boys?”

              The mass of warriors behind Lucille gave a scream this time, only this was a cacophony of song suggestions being hurled to the front.

              “Unwritten!”

              “Walking on Sunshine!”

              “Put Your Records On!”

              They were all excellent suggestions, but Lucille still stuck out her tongue in disgust. She had an image to uphold.

              “Yes,” she said, finally hearing a suggestion she could get behind, “how about ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ by Bobby McFerrin? Surely we can agree on that?!”

              “You guys don’t get to listen to-,“ began Gabriella in shock.

              Lucille cut her off with a shake of the head.

              Gabriella straightened her tan suit.

              “You guys get Jason Mraz?” she asked.

              Lucille shook her head again.

              “Well, we agree on something at least,” said Gabriella.

              “Who would’ve guessed it,” said Lucille.  

              “So, can we agree on something for the soundtrack?”

              Silence fell upon the Missouri Plateau for the last time.

              “American Pie by Don McLean!” somebody yelled from way in the back.

              Gabriella and Lucille nodded in unison.

              “A long, long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…”

              It boomed both angelic and demonic from above and below.

              A sort of celestial surround-sound.

              “And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance…”

Lucille raised her mace.

              Gabriella, her blade.

              “and maybe they’d be happy for a while…”

              The stamping of feet formed a drum beat.

              “The day…. the music…. died……”

              The Great Battle had begun.