sat back to watch the show.

At that precise moment, in a tippytop secret facility, deep in the Mojave Desert....
"Allright you bastards, Earplugs in!!!" The vast ranks of American teenagers moved with one accord. General Curtis le Mayhem smiled grimly in the 105 degree heat.
"Instruments ready!!"
Seventy six thousand trombones glittered in the air, with a hundred and ten thousand cornets right behind.
The General turned and loudly shouted: "All you civilians and observers, get behind your blast shields!!" They meekly obeyed. All was in readiness. There was brief, shimmering silence.
"Play Music!!!!!"
"Tie a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree!!!" erupted from every orifice, every instrument, ponging, pinging, high stepping, high thrusting, baton twirlers, parade masters!!!!!
At the National Centre for Geophysics in Sacramento, the Richter scale leapt to 9. In the central Band Zone, cactus vaporized, the dummy houses crashed and fell, tanks withered and melted. Behind the blast shield, which bulged but did not break, everyone could feel the devastation. It was Siva, destroyer of worlds at play again.
Dr. Unscrupulos, head of the Welk Memorial UltraBand Lab, witnessing the musical apocalpyse he had had such a hand in creating. smiled to himself as he wiped off his smoked dark glasses, and shifted slightly from his crouching position behind the wildly registering instrument sensors.
On the podium above him, the charred General smiled a thin vicious smile. "And for our next selection, we would like to play for you....