[Somewhere high overhead a screaming, smoldering, slightly blowed up Siberian Sabertoothed Skwerl is on the way down from being blowed up to nearl orbital heights. He is falling so hard and fast that his dopplered scream arrives right after he crashes through the roof to squarely demolish the ACME ambulance. Shortly afterwards Wombat, Tom Cruise, and the Parametics (should have been Pathetics, as the correct spelling is Paramedics. Sheesh, the "t" is note even adjacent to the "d") wake up in the Green Room of Hell.]
Parametic #1: What happened?
Parametic #2: I don't know.
Tom Cruise: Again?
Parametic #1: Again? What again, you whinner.
Tom Cruise: Back in hell, again.
Wombat: Ohhhhh, skittles!
Parametic #2: Skittles? Oh boy! Skittles!
Tom Cruise: Somehow I doubt those are skittles.
Parametic #1: Why do you doubt, you whinny yappity yapper?
Tom Cruise: Because they came out of his head!
Parametic #1: So? His brain is skittle powered!
Beelzebub: What in the hell is all of the yelling about in here....Wombat? Tom? What in the hell are you doing back here?
Parametic #2: How are we supposed to know? Maybe you should ask the Skwerl hidding under the couch.
Beelzebub: The Skwerl under the..........crap. All of you! Get the hell out of here!
Wombat: Oh, Hi! Hey? Why should I leave so soon? I just got here?
Beelzebub: BEGONE!
[With a firey flash Wombat, the Parametics [ >:( ], Tom, and one more that slightly confused Siberian Sabertoothed Skwerl find themselves in the white room of heaven.]
Archangel Gabriel: What in the hell are you all doing here?
Wombat: We're Dancing!
[Wombat rips off his Wombat suit to reveal a white Elvis-like outfit, a disco ball drops from the ceiling and begins to do the funky lighting thing disco balls do as Wombat begins singing]
My baby moves at midnight—goes right on till the dawn.
My woman, takes me higher; my woman keeps me warm.
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, aah?
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, aah?
You should be dancing, yeah, dancing, yeah.
She's juicy and she's trouble; she gets it to me good.
My woman gives me power—goes right down to my blood.
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, aah?
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, aah?
You should be dancing, yeah, dancing, yeah.
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, ooh?
What you doin' LAYIN' ON YOUR BACK, aah?
You should be dancing, yeah, dancing, yeah.
Archangel Gabriel: Get Out!