Skipster: Ohmigod! It's the Doomsday Clock!
He is about to squeeze the trigger when he hears the unmistakable sound of Mr. Winter's soothing voice emanating from the P.A. system.
Mr. Winter's Voice: Barry. (pause) Barry. (Barry halts, and looks up, mystified.)
Barry: Who is that?
Mr. Winter's Voice: It's the Lord, Barry.
The audience, who assumes that this is a scheduled part of the show, begins to laugh. Barry, who now thinks this is a last-minute addition to the show, smirks and begins to play along.
Barry: (chuckling) And what is it I may do for you, oh Lord?
Mr. Winter's Voice: I command thee to bring out your special guest!
Suddenly the crowd goes wild as the Foxster comes staggering out onstage, totally drunk.
Skipster: Omigod! The Foxster!!!
Foxster: (looking around) I wanna see th'speshull guest...
As the spotlight swings over, the Skipster hurridly holsters his weapon, smiles and waves to the audience. Barry motions for the Skipster to approach the podium, and the Skipster slowly begins walking toward it. Offstage, Glory, Slate, and Buffy are trying to comprehend this weird spectacle, when Kittridge runs up to Slate, out of breath.
Slate: Of course I do! It's right here! (Slate produces the device from his jacket pocket.)
Kittridge: Take it apart!
Kittridge: Just take it apart, damnit! There's no time to explain!
The sudden roar of the crowd causes them to look up, as the four members of Cheese 'n Onions walk angrily onto the stage. Barry, who believes this is still part of the act, leans into the microphone.
Barry: Ladies and gentlemen! Let's have a big welcome to Mike Rotch as Dirk McQuickly, Jacques Strapp as Ron Nasty, Hugh Jass as Stig O'Hara, and Stu Pedasso as Barry Wom! Cheese 'n Onions!!!
The crowd roars. Mike Rotch angrily grabs the key out of Barry's hand. Jacques Strapp grabs the microphone, and glares at Mike Rotch.
Strapp: (mockingly) "Have Barry do it!" Oh, great plan there, Mike! We're gonna do this like we'd orginally planned it, and to hell with any of ENEMA's ransom demands! (to the audience and television cameras) We really hate you all. (The crowd, thinking he's doing his "Ron Nasty" impression, cheers.)
Slate: (to Kittridge) Okay! It's apart! Now what?
Kittridge: The guy who helped invent this thing told me something...
Mike Rotch grabs the microphone from Jacques Strapp.
Rotch: He's right! We hate you all! (The crowd cheers. Hugh Jass grabs the microphone from Mike Rotch.)
Pedasso: Listen! I'm Stu Pedasso! You can believe me! (The crowd cheers.)
Kittridge: (to Slate) And that little red button on the circuit board is the trigger!
The band members look at each other, then suddenly run toward the clock with Mike Rotch brandishing the key. The Skipster begins to draw his gun, but is stopped short by Mr. Winter's booming voice.
Mr. Winter's Voice: Let them go, Skipster! (pause) And by the way... duck and cover!
The Skipster is momentarily confused, but quickly regains his sense of discipline, honed by years of military -- and GLOBE -- training. He grabs both Barry and the Foxster by their collars, and with one swift kick, he knocks the bulletproof plexiglass podium over. He manages to wrestle every one of them to safety behind it.
Kittridge: In short... THE KEY IS A BOMB!!!
Cheese 'n Onions defiantly stand in front of the Doomsday Clock and raise their middle fingers to the cheering crowd. Mike Rotch begins to insert the key that will obliterate all life on earth.
Slate: A bomb? (brief pause) Oh. (brief pause) Cool. (Slate presses the red button.)
In the blink of an eye, Cheese 'n Onions and the Doomsday Clock are enveloped in a blinding white light and a loud explosion that rocks the stage. When the smoke clears, the only thing remaining is a large hole in the stage floor. The audience cheers.
Skipster: (to Barry) Wow! That was quick!
Barry: Ladies and gentlemen! We have all just witnessed an historical event! I must've read that script wrong, because what I meant to say earlier was that this will go in the Guinness Book Of World Records as the shortest concert in the history of the world! Thank you, and have a great day!
The music swells through the P.A. system, and after more wild applause, the audience dutifully begins to file out.