DAY TWO:

Saten: Let's just try stepping in the rhythm. Now I want everyone to stand in straight rows of five.

Blitzo: Is this the part where we start kicking?!

Satan: No, Blitz, that's a chorus line.

Micah: Kicking?! I wanna do some kicking! [kicks Betty in the leg]

Betty: Ow! Why, you... [jumps them into a fight cloud which rolls outside and the doors slam shut]

Micah: Aaaaaah-ho-ho-ho-ho-aaah!

[Everyone silently stares at the door]

Micah walks in with Betty's trombone was shoved though his neck, being immortal now he barely even seems fazed. The Trombone notes are heard as he walks towards his seat. As he sits down, he makes a loud trombone noise as he opens his mouth].

DAY THREE:

[shows the band walking down a street playing Semper Fidelis, badly.]

Satan: Okay, that's perfect, everybody. Bubble Bowl, here we come. Flag twirlers, really spin those things. Okay, turn. Flag twirlers, let's go. I wanna see some spinning. (they spin harder) Flag twirlers, let's move! (spin harder) C'MON MOVE!

[The flag twirlers spin so hard that they take off into the sky and crash into a blimp, which causes an explosion. Micah plays Taps while everyone gives respect symbols, even Ogdan, Satan just lies down on the ground and curls into a fetal position.]

DAY 4:

Satan: Well, this is our last night together before the show. And I know that you haven't improved since we began... [Freddy chews on a trumpet] ...but I have a theory. People talk loud when they wanna act smart, right?

Hitler: CORRECT!

Satan: So, if we play loud, people might think we're good. Everybody ready? And a one, and a two, and a one, two, three, four! [screen cuts to the outside of the music school and a blast of noise ensues, breaking the windows. Cuts back inside the music school, where Satan's face is deformed beyond recognition, his shirt's been ripped, and his baton breaks] Okay, new theory. Maybe we should play so quietly, no one can hear us.

Demon: Well, maybe we wouldn't sound so bad if some people didn't try to play with big, meaty claws!

Ogdan: What did you say, punk?!

Demon: Big... meaty... CLAWS!

Ogdan: Well my claws will still fuck you up!

Demon: Bring it on, old man! Bring it on!

Satan: Wait, wait. I know tensions are high... [everyone gets into a fight. Freddy and Betty are yelling at each othe til another Demon slams Freddy into a drum.] There's a deposit on that equipment, people! [Ogdan and the demon charge at each other with large woodwinds) Settle down, please!

Demon holds xylophone at Betty.

Betty: HAA! (uses drumstick to break the xylophone and the Demon runs off. Micah comes up behind her and kicks Betty again) GRRRR! (pulls trumpet with an evil grin).

Micah: Ahhh! (runs away but Betty chases him)

(The scene cuts to the clock which shows it being 10 o'clock and everyone stops fighting, Blitzo seen trying to stab someone in the freeze frame.]

Striker: Hey, class is over.

[The band members walk are suddenly friends again and walk to door, where Satan slams it open.]

Satan: Well, you did it. You took my one chance in happiness... and crushed it! Crushed it into little, tiny, bite-size pieces. I really had expected better of you people. I guess I'm a loser for that, too. Don't bother showing up tomorrow. I'll just tell them you all died in a marching accident. So, thanks. [sobs] Thanks for nothing! [leaves]

Micah: You're welcome.

Blitzo: What kind of monsters are we? That poor creature came to us in his hour of need, and we failed him. Satan's always been there for us when it was convenient for him. Sort of, not really.. Freddy, when your house burnt down who allowed you to live on as a demonic entity?

Freddy Krueger: Wes Craven.

Blitzo: And Ogdan, who let you get away with murdering everyone in the village.

Ogdan: Boss did.

Blitzo: Right. So, if we can all just pretend that Satan was the director of Scream, or some dude who's name who's actual name is Boss, then I'm sure that we can all pull together and discover what it truly means to be in a marching band.

Striker : Yeah, for the movie dude!

All: Hooray!

Blitzo: Now let's make Satan proud. A 1, a 2, a skiddly diddly doo.