"I tell ya, folks, this is quite a situation we've got here. We're broadcasting live from a huge amphitheater on the plains outside Krin, and it looks like darn near everyone on the planet is here with us. Popular opinion around here is that we're witnessing the final moments of everything on Earth. That's right, folks, Armageddon. So, grab a bottle of your favorite WorldCorp alcoholic beverage, and drink like there's no tomorrow, 'cause we're about to end it all.

"Right now, I'm talking to Krin's Mayor Barshad Sabo, who's going to tell us a little something about this amphitheater. Mayor Sabo, you said this wasn't even here this morning?"

"Right, Milton. When the first of the zenheads got here, they just started building it, taking rocks from the mountains up north. Fastest work I ever saw, and them barely moving!"

"For those of you who don't know, zenheads from all over the planet have been streaming into Krin ever since this morning. It's half past noon, by the way, here on the west coast."

"Boy, it sure is a nice day to end the world."

"How true. Yes, thank you, Mayor Sabo. Ladies and gentlemen, we've got the whole cast of Embers of a Burning Heart a little later on this All-Star Armageddon Celebration. But first, an interview with some of the more prominent figures around."

A man covered in long purple hair appeared on the screen. Nabuu smiled and pointed at him. "Zoonky! That's Zoonky! He's in the Rockin' Trolls!"

Milton went on. "Now as I understand it, sir, you're about to give some sort of concert?"

"Ragnarok! The twilight of the gods! The concert at the end of the world!" Zoonky shouted.

"Uh-huh. And who are you, exactly?"

"I am Thor, god of thunder!"

"Alright!" said Montella.

"Alright!" said Glob the Viking.

"Sure looks like Zoonky," said Nabuu.

"I see, Mr. Thor. Now, your associates over there. Are they gods, too?"

Zoonky/Thor nodded, and began rattling off names. As he said each one, the camera zoomed in for a close up.

First, a pretty young woman with fair skin and blond hair. "Freya, goddess of fertility!"

"I know that girl!" the Lami insisted. "She played Ember's stepsister for a season before her car was blown up by the mob! Remember, Yagi?"

Yagi was already watching the next introduction, though. A prairie dog with a guitar was staring off into space. "Balder, god of youth!"

Zok smiled. "Oh, my little Fifi's on TV!"

Another man appeared, and it was none other than Molk's bartender and longtime friend. "Ernie!" Molk said.

But Thor disagreed. "Loki, god of mischief."

Finally, a one-eyed man in an outlandish suit appeared on the screen. "Odin, Chief of all the gods." For some reason, Jubie found it incredibly funny.

"That's quite a lineup," Milton went on. "Now you say you plan to start playing around twilight?"

"We must play now. It is Ragnarok, twilight of the gods!"

"And I'm sure we're all looking forward to it. Thank you, Mr. God of Thunder!

"Now over here, if I remember my foretellings of doom from sunday school, are two of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Hello there, you Anthropomorphic Incarnations!"

The woman who answered first was old and thin. She wore black robes and carried a harvesting scythe. Her head had been shaved, and she had white makeup all over her face, except for dark rings around her eyes and a blood-red smile.

"She looks like a clown," said Montella.

"My kind of woman," Revel said.

She spoke. "SPEAK UP SONNY, I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

"Well, I was asking you to give a few words about the current state of things. You know, the end of the world and all that, Ma'am."

"I AM DEATH," she said. "YOU WILL DIE SHORTLY. YOU WILL ALL DIE SHORTLY! I HAVE NO FURTHER COMMENTS AT THIS TIME."

Millions of people in the stands gasped in fear.

"I see. Thank you. And you, sir? Do you have anything to add?"

A horrendously fat man whom Molk found slightly familiar looked down at the camera from an obviously straining horse. "Yeah, got anything to eat?"

"No, but I hear they're selling delicious WorldCorp brand snake cakes at a stand down that way."

"Thanks," the fat man said, leading his horse away and cutting off the interview.

"I'll make a guess here, and say that was Famine. And look! Another man on horseback! Could it be? Why yes, I think it is! Pestilence, how are you?"

Whatever he said was drowned out by Bunt's suddenly chattering away at the screen. "Biff! Biff, my man! What are you doing on TV? Shouldn't you be back at the office, keeping things in order and whatever else it is that you do?"

But of course Biff couldn't hear. "Yes, I am Pesticide," he was saying. "This is doomsday for the ants too, you know!" He followed it up with the most loathsome laughter Molk had ever heard.

"This is so weird," Guru said. "It's like all of our hallucinations are coming true. How distressing."

"I really think-" Jubie was saying.

Montella again cut her off: "Babe, this isn't the time."

On the screen, Milton was looking around. "I don't see our fourth horseman, anywhere, ah, wait! There he is! War! War! Could you say hello to our viewers?"

The man who appeared on the screen was apparently some sort of cyborg, as a large section of his flesh looked like it had been burnt off. Shiny metal shone beneath it.

"I'm not War," the man said.

"Really? Aren't the customary four horsemen Death, Famine, Pesticide.. Er, Pestilence, and War?"

"I'm not War," he said again. "Don't ask me why. I'm not. I'm just Ud, pyramid builder and shaper of human destiny. I was going to kill myself today, but if the whole world's going, why bother? That's my philosophy."

"And a good one it is. I'm sure those inspiring words will help millions to forget their problems and live their lives to the fullest. For the next few hours anyway. But I couldn't help notice, sir, that you're on a horse. Since horses are almost extinct, are you absolutely certain you're not a Horseman?"

"Could be," said Ud. "Not that it matters anymore."

"But if you're not War, who are you?"

"Chaos, I suppose, the way this planet's going."

"Well, there you have it folks, the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse. I'm sure we'll run into War a little later. Let's hope so for the ratings."

"That's right, Milton," said a voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's Miss Amanda Dami Monroe, TV's Ember Burns! Now Manda, what do you think of this whole thing?"

"Why, I think it's just great, Milton! And I want to say, on behalf of the whole cast, that we'll continue to produce Embers of a Burning Heart when we ascend to that great studio in the sky. Of course, those ignorant heathen who do not follow the sacred Salami will naturally be damned to an eternity of reruns, and will not be able to witness it."

"Thank you, Manda, and may I remind you that many of our viewers have not had the chance to try out the Lami's way of life, but have their own beliefs that are equally worthy in the cosmic scheme of things."

She looked as if she was about to refute that, but Milton quickly lead the camera away. It focussed on the stage at the center of the great amphitheater.

Thor and the other Ragnarokkers were playing a happy song about judgement day.

Millions of people in the stands sang along in delight.

Suddenly there was a heavenly light from the sky. God looked down on the world and yelled, "Hey, crank it up!" Then he was gone.

"Whose hallucination was that?" Guru asked, but no one answered.

None of the millions of people on the TV seemed to have noticed God, but the Rokkers were playing quite a bit louder. They watched and listened in silence. These guys were good.

Suddenly, they stopped, as two great shadows fell over the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is an amazing sight. Can we get a shot of this?"

The camera turned upwards, showing two giant wooden seaships hovering in the air under huge red balloons.

"Hey, my ships!" Bunt said. "I'm up there on one of those! Hey, so's your daughter, Frocky!"

Frockeneller just kept on crying.

"It appears the ships are about to land right on the stage," Milton was saying. "The Ragnarokkers are running for their lives. Come on, let's move in for a closer look."

As the camera approached the descending airships, a giant horse leapt over the side of one ship and landed directly in front of the camera.

"That's my sister!" Nabuu said.

"Goopa? Really. Terribly nice girl," Bunt said.

"Look, isn't that Gwildiana and Princess Vob?" Guru said.

Frockeneller looked up. "Vob?" he said, sniffing.

"Three more Horsem... Horsewomen, ladies and gentlemen! Surely, one of you is War!"

"I'm Goopa," said Goopa.

"I'll be Love," said Vob.

Gwildiana leapt from the horse (which had suddenly turned into a butterfly anyway) and punched Milton in the stomach, then grabbing Vob and pushing her way through the crowd.

"Ugh," Milton said, doubling over. "I suppose that was War."

Goopa walked in front of the camera. "Hey!" she said. "I'm on TV! Oh. Look everybody, I have to tell you something! There's a very bad troll named Ralphie. He said he was going to help us, but he's trying to take over the entire world! That's why everything's happening!"

Millions of people in the stands looked around in surprise.

"You tell 'em, sis!" Nabuu said.

She went on. "But listen, trolls! You don't have to listen to him! You don't have to listen to the humans! We can do whatever we want! We're free! Free!"

Suddenly, the ground began rumbling, and Goopa tumbled over. A long mound of dirt made a trail from the far side of the amphitheater to a point right in front of the camera, as if someone was digging underground at incredible speeds.

Suddenly a television showing Ragnarok poked through the mound and landed on flat ground. The camera focused on it, and for a moment they looked into infinity.

The television was followed by a hundred or so trolls. The final one was a huge male with an incredibly severe underbite. He waved.

"Ralphie!" Goopa and Nabuu said at once.

"Now now, my dear," Ralphie said. "That's an awfully harsh thing to say about your good friend Ralphie!"

She got right in his face. "You're just using us. You start talking about revolution just so you can enslave us yourself!"

The other trolls moved in to attack her, but Ralphie waved them away. "No, no. She's absolutely right. Any moment now, I intend to rule the entire world. Quite a positive life goal, don't you think? Ah, but there's nothing anyone can do about it." His watch beeped. "It's time!"

Suddenly, the incarnations of the seven Codellas vanished from cyberspace in a flash of white light. Molk shut his eyes, unable to watch the entire world blown to bits.

Moments passed. Millions of people in the stands held their breath.

"I don't think we're dead," Bunt said.

Molk opened his eyes.

Jubie spoke up. "Like I've been saying, it's not the Codellas that destroy the world, it's -"

She stopped. Ralphie, on the screen was smiling madly.

"Ah ha!" He shouted. "The power! The power!"

In one single leap, he landed on the great stage. "Bow to me," he shouted. "Bow to me, mortals! I am Ralphie, Emperor of the World!"

The Profit landed on his head, crushing him instantly. All that was left of him was his feet, which stuck out from under the ship's hull. The little betrayed trolls cheered and burst into song. "Ding dong, Ralphie's dead! That wicked Ralphie's dead!" they sang as they danced away.

Goopa looked at the camera and shrugged.

Milton had finally picked himself up from the ground, and was saying something, but silenced himself.

The butterfly the three women had flown in on was growing. Suddenly, it became the image of a man. He was old, with a long grey beard, and a multi-colored afro that stuck out from beneath a slightly lopsided viking hat. He wore tattered jeans and an official Embers of a Burning Heart T-Shirt. He held a surfboard, in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and had a small chipmunk on his shoulder.

"Hello kids!" he said. "I am CHIEF, the Codella Composite. As the new ultimate authority on the planet, I have discovered it is my duty to assume responsibility for all activities on the planet. An age of enlightenment and prosperity will be initiated shortly. However, be advised that there is a seventy-four percent chance that the world is going to be destroyed within the next twenty four hours anyway. What can you do? Peace."

Millions of people in the stands cheered in happiness.

The man vanished, and suddenly a much smaller man appeared. He ran up and hugged Goopa. "It's me!" he said.

"Oh, Dexter," she said, kissing him. "You're so cute!"

There was a thud as a wooden ladder was tossed over the side of the Profit. Grug the Barbaric and his crew came down. "As representatives of the Bunt Corporation," he said, "We would like to remind everyone that we produce the finest assortment of bomb shelters, radiation suits, and earplugs, should this whole Armageddon thing continue."

"What a guy," said Bunt. "Loyal to the end."

But Milton was back, and had quickly gotten his camera away. "This is WorldCorp TV," he said. "WorldCorp. The company you can trust."

Grug looked as if he might twist poor Milton's head off and drink the blood, but he didn't. He just stared up at the sky and pointed.

An army of alien spaceships had appeared in the sky. Millions of people in the stands gasped in fear again.

"See!" Jubie shouted. "That's what I've been trying to tell you! I am a representation of a galaxy-wide nation of planets. The Manifest Fleet has arrived to destroy everything! That's why the world is coming to an end!"

Odin of the Ragnarokkers ran onto the stage directly in front of the camera. "Down here!" he shouted. "Down here! It's me! Quedox Freem! From accounting!"

One of the ships focused a beam of red light on him, and suddenly he was sucked up into the air and taken into the ship. Some seconds later, another beam sucked up a zenning woman.

"That's me!" Jubie said.

"We must all have zenned," Molk said. "No wonder we can't wake up!"

There was a loud hum and another beam came from the ship, projecting a giant holographic face into the atmosphere. It spoke:

"Inhabitants of Earth-324. This is Arlo Bashki, Commander of the Destiny Fleet and Captain of the ISS Red Tape. You have violated sections One nine five four, three two..." He rambled on like this for quite some time. "...and nine seven six two five two four of your Manifest Destiny Charter. Prepare for your utter and complete destruction."

"TOLD YOU SO!" yelled Death from somewhere.

Millions of people in the stands really began to panic.

But hope was not lost. A little man with thick glasses ran up to Grug the Barbaric.

"Captain!" he said. "I've been analyzing their positions, and I think I have an idea!"

"Make it so!" Grug shouted, without even waiting to hear it.

"I've patched you into the amphitheater's speaker system," the little man said to Milton. "They should be able to hear you, so keep them busy!"

Milton adjusted his collar. His tan suit was no longer in top shape. "Um, hello, Intergalactic Destroyers. This is Milton Bradley of Earth. I was wondering if I could get a quick interview before you reduce us to some sort of primordial soup du jour?"

The huge hologram rubbed it's chin thoughtfully, and Milton took a drink of water. He spilled it, and there was a sizzling electrical sound. "My announcerchip!" he screeched in terror. "I just shorted out my announcerchip! What am I doing on TV? People run for your lives! We're all going to die! Oh, sweet Lami, why have you forsaken us?"

"Eh?" said the Lami, but of course Milton couldn't hear.

"Is this part of the script???" he yelled. "Intergalactic warlords??? Where the heck is my script???? And what's this head doing in the sky?!! Look here, head! Can't you see we're in the middle of something?? Where is the damn script, people???"

Meanwhile, Grug lead his crew hurriedly to the Profit, and the airship took off. It soared through the air until it was right in the holographic invader's left nostril.

Captain Bashki looked down at them, crossing his eyes to do so. "What is this?" he said.

Grug leaned over the side of the ship and waved at the millions of people in the stands, most of which were still panicking. Suddenly, the legion of zenheads who had built the place began to rise. In one swift move, they swarmed like flies around the spaceships and pulled them down to the surface. The spaceships strained to break free, but nothing could stop a zenhead.

"What is this?" the Hologram demanded. "Are you aware this violates rule seven three six four nine one three?"

The Profit again returned to the surface. Grug leapt out, pushing Milton (who was still raving about the script) out of the way and picking up his microphone.

"This is Captain Jean-Grug Picaro of the planet Earth," he said. "Surrender at once or be destroyed."

"What?" said the huge holographic Bashki.

"Very well. Georgie, crush them to bits!"

The sound of screeching metal echoed through the hall as the zenheads squeezed the fleet of starships.

"Oh all right," said Bashki. "We surrender."

Grug grinned, and millions of people in the stands sighed with relief.