Prologue
The performance had been a success and Crowley led them all through the back aisles of the concert hall to find their bus.
"Well done, girls, excellent performance," he said.
"What are you talking about? You weren't even watching, Clifford!" Uriel snapped back at him, and Crowley vaguely wondered why Uriel didn't know his name until remembering that he was talking Uriel; at least this time it had begun with a C.
"Yes I was!"
"Don't lie, no you weren't," Michael scoffed back. That's when Crowley noticed that both of them had spoken with thick British accents. That was odd – none of the Archangels had British accents, for obvious reasons.
"I sensed the vibes!" Crowley protested, suddenly noticing that all five of them were wearing extremely tight, revealing – wait, five? "I have an excellent vibe-sensor right here!" He pointed to his sunglasses.
"Yeah right," Raphael retorted with a smile.
"He just doesn't love us anymore!" Aziraphale – whoa what is Aziraphale doing here and why is he wearing pigtails and is that a dress he's got on?* - exclaimed dramatically.
"Oh yes I do! I love you like a wildebeest loves five lionesses chewing at his legs," Crowley replied with a sigh that did not match the internal panic he was feeling.
One of them fake roared at him.
This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. Why were they all dressed like young women? Why did they all have very thick accents? And Gabriel's high heels had made him taller than Michael now! Why was he -
Crowley desperately tried to put together where he had seen this scene before. Some movie… Some movie that was so bad it was horrible…** Starring five pop starlets, from some girl group in the 1990s…
If only he could remember… It involved something about "what you really really want-"
"NO!" he screamed as he figured it out, the hallway echoing his voice back at him.
Crowley woke up in a cold sweat, and turned to Aziraphale to assure there were no bows anywhere in that mass of curls he called hair. Aziraphale didn't seem to notice, as he was deeply asleep still.
He caught his breath and took in his surroundings. Ugh. What a horrid nightmare.
He instantly lost any calm he might have gained when he realized that they were going to a concert that night… going to see them, to be more precise…
He had a bad feeling about this.
* And why was Crowley turned on?
** Opinions may vary as to whether it was so bad it was horrible, or so bad it was awesome.
"Are you sure you're not going to go onstage?" Crowley demanded as he and Aziraphale found their seats in the front row of the stadium, "I mean, not even as a surprise? And they're not, you know, going to try dancing or anything are they?" And Crowley had assured that Aziraphale hadn't worn anything approximating a dress; not that he had had to do much, considering Aziraphale's fashion sense wasn't that off-base.
Well, it was off-base just a bit, as it was twenty years post Armageddon't Two™ and nearly thirty years after the first one and Aziraphale still dressed as if he was living in the 1950s. Never before had Crowley considered Aziraphale's fashion acceptable, but the old tartan vests and Oxford shirts with too much tweed involved were far, far beyond dresses.
"Oh hush," Aziraphale chastised, sitting in his seat with popcorn that suddenly found itself of much higher quality. "You know full well nothing of the sort is going to happen. Now be good or else you'll be the one writing the thank-you note for the tickets."
Crowley wisely went silent.
He and Aziraphale had arrived just in time. With plenty of fanfare – fog machines, laser lights, and thousands of screaming fans – they appeared on stage, the hit rock band Foreigner; all other sounds and distractions were cut off by a steady drum beat and the accompanying bass.
"Standing in the rain, with his head hung low, couldn't get a ticket, it was a sold out show," the lead singer sang, tapping his foot to the beat, his own head and the heads of his band hung low, "Heard the roar of the crowd, he could picture the scene, put his ear to the wall, then like a distant scream…"
Uriel, Archangel of Redemption and the Presence, began to play the drums with increased enthusiasm. Gabriel, Archangel of Revelations, played the keyboard to match the quicker tempo. Raphael, Archangel of Knowledge and Healing, finally began to play his electric guitar. Michael, Archangel of Warriors, with a bass guitar in his hands, sang out with the charisma that had charmed millions.
"He heard one guitar! Just blew him away! He saw stars in his eyes, and the very next day, bought a beat up six string, in a second-hand store, didn't know how to play it, but he knew for sure… That one guitar! Felt good in his hands! Didn't take long! To understand! Just one guitar! Slung way down low! Was a one-way ticket! Only one way to go! So he started rockin', ain't never gonna stop, gotta keep on rockin', someday he's gonna make it to the top!"
"And be a jukebox hero, got stars in his eyes, he's a jukebox hero!
"He took one guitar!"
"Jukebox hero, stars in his eyes, jukebox hero,
"He'll come alive tonight!"
Crowley had to admit, even as he sang along, that knowing the Four in question made the concert a little bit ridiculous feeling – seeing them in their "rock getup" and knowing they'd be more comfortable in robes; and that Michael was only the lead singer because he was the biggest ham; and that Gabriel was always that passionless whether playing the keyboard or drinking tea; and that the lights weren't what made Raphael seem like he was glowing, as that was just his happiness; and Uriel had to play the drums because he always cut himself on the guitar strings.
Ridiculous maybe, but certainly better than his dream…
The gunshot was drowned out by the singing and the music, but Crowley and Aziraphale heard it and turned to where it came from. The bullet whizzed past them up towards the stage, and Michael, not missing a beat, daintily stepped out of the way. Unseen by the humans' eyes, the bullet harmlessly embedded itself in the backdrop.
Aziraphale turned to Crowley. "Another one." No humans could hear them over the unceasing concert.
"They're going to have to end their tour," Crowley agreed, "if people know what they really are. It's too dangerous otherwise."
Aziraphale nodded grimly. "What is the world coming to…"
"An End."
Aziraphale smiled even as he held up his hands. "No matter how hard times have become," he said in his most placating voice, "armed robbery is not something you ought to lower yourself to, Mrs. Priester. If you would but put the gun down, I'm sure we can discuss this-"
"There's nothin' to discuss, Mr. Fell!" Rose Priester cried, her hands and voice shaking in equal measure, "You act all innocent but I know better! You killed Betsy, I knows it!"
Aziraphale was genuinely shocked at the allegation. "Betsy died? Oh, that poor girl-"
"I don't want your fake pity!" she screamed, "It was one of your angel friends! It had to've been! Well," the gun clicked ominously, "I won't let any more of you, you feathered bastards mess with us!"
Aziraphale's eyes widened drastically. "How-"
A shot rang out.
Paradise Thwarted
A humble fanfiction sequel to Manchester Lost by the authoress
which in turn was a humble fanfiction sequel to Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
still not written for profit (unless you include reviews (which the authoress does))
all characters are property of Messrs. Pratchett, Gaiman, God and Satan
Dramatis Personae
Team Heaven
God (God)
Jesus (God's… we'll just say "Child")
Metatron (Voice of God)
Michael (Archangel of Awesome and Badass of God)
Gabriel (Archangel of Revelations, who is surrounded by Michaels)
Raphael (Archangel of Healing, with more enemies than is healthy)
Uriel (Archangel of Redemption, previously thwarted by a chocolate muffin)
Raguel (Archangel of Angelic Harmony, and kind of superfluous)
Zerachiel (Archangel of Watchers, and Children… … …)
Chamuel (Archangel of Love and newly of Hope (replacing Ramiel))
Aziraphale (Angel of Tea and Chocolate)
Crowley (A Demon who did not so much Rise as Get Dragged Up By the Scruff of His Neck)
Team Hell
Lucifer (Emperor of Hell, who is evil and loving it)
Belial (Archdemon of Sloth and Lust, who has already brought sexy back)
Samael (Archdemon of Strife and newly of Pride (replacing Beelzebub), who has given up giving a crap)
Azazel (Archdemon of Avarice and newly of Wrath (replacing Moloch), who can really hold a grudge)
Dagon (Former Duke of Hell and part time produce deity, new Archdemon of Gluttony (replacing Mammon))
Adam (former Antichrist)
Pepper (Interior Decorator to the current Prince of Hell)
Brian (Planning General to the current Prince of Hell)
Wensleydale (Accountant to the current Prince of Hell)
Steve (A demon)
Team Apocalypse
War (the happiest personification of Humanity's evils ever!)
Famine (Biker rather unimpressed with how the Apocalypse Round Three is going)
Pollution (very paranoid bishonen)
Death (Biker about to fulfill his quota)
Pestilence (Horseperson who proves retirement =/= not working)
Team Earth
Johnny McWhistle (A mycophagist)
Hazel Prue Fair-Alsip (Leader of Manifest Destiny)
Dämonverderben (Demonsbane, a demon slayer)
Evilosoth the Detroyer, Conqueror of Worlds (The New Antichrist)