***
A normal day in Apocalyptica land. A tour was pending and they had gathered, complete with Antero, to rehearse the new songs. This, however was being problematical.

"I'm bored with just sitting there and playing," Perttu yawned, scraping rosin onto his bow. "Can't we do something a bit showy?"

Paavo, Antero and Eicca looked at him. "Just sitting there?" Eicca asked in disbelief.

"Just playing?" Paavo echoed.

"Showy?" Antero shuddered.

Perttu pouted.

"We don't just sit there and play," Eicca argued. "At least we don't." he motioned to himself, Paavo and Perttu. "Mr. 'I'm so cool, I pee ice-cubes' over there is another matter.

Antero looked offended. "I don't pee ice-cubes," he objected. "Besides, I'm a 'serious' player. I leave all this dancing around and cello killing to Mr. 'hot and wild' there.

Perttu grinned and buffed his nails. "I am, aren't I?"

Eicca rolled his eyes.

"But why can't we do something as a band?" Paavo spoke up. "We ought to do something really cool and really unexpected - something together."

"Get up and dance the can-can?" Eicca suggested in a sarcastic tone.

"Synchronised cello killing?" Perttu said hopefully.

"Cooler than that. Something where Mr. 'Someone put super-glue on my chair' doesn't have to get up, and something so cool even he won't object."

"How about... we spin our cellos," Antero said.

"Spin... our... cellos." Perttu gave him a hard stare.

Antero demonstrated, spinning his cello once.

Perttu pouted. "That's not very cool."

"It will be if we all do it together," Eicca said slowly.

"And very fast," Paavo grinned.

"I like it." Eicca nodded.

Antero smiled in a completely cool and sunglassy kind of way.

"So where do we do it?" Paavo asked.

There followed a long, torturous moment of hard thinking, then finally, Eicca said, "Path. That rest in Path. It should be long enough, but not too long."

"You're kidding," Perttu said, aghast. "Two beats? Two FAST beats?"

Eicca smiled evilly.

The next hour was taken up with cello spinning. They all tried it on their own first. This wasn't too much of a problem. All of them were competent cello spinners. (a result of boredom while studying at Siba) but doing it in unison - and in time - was another matter. They played the four bars running up to the gap in Path, then Eicca shouted 'Spin!'

The result was variable. Antero, of course, executed the move perfectly. Perttu's cello spun wildly, almost taking off like a helicopter. Eicca's wobbled and fell over with a crash. Paavo's did a good impression of a spinning top and went walkabout across the room, with Paavo running after it. Chaos ensued.

"That was successful." Paavo said, retrieving his instrument and sitting back down.

They tried it again. This time, the result was better. Three cellos ended up on the floor, but at least they were no longer halfway across the room, or embedded in the ceiling. The third time, Eicca's hair got caught in the pegs and both he and his cello ended up on the floor.

"Who's idea was this?" Antero asked finally, watching in resignation as the other three struggled to control their escaping cellos.

All three looked at him. All three were hot, sweaty and bad tempered. All three yelled in unison.

"YOURS!"

The day might have ended badly, with tempers and cellos frayed beyond repair, but, suddenly, Eicca let out a scream and fell on the floor. At the same time, Paavo yelled and writhed, holding his head. Perttu whimpered and keeled over, curling up into a ball. Antero watched, alarmed.

"Um.. guys?" he said. "Um... this isn't another Abba thing is it?"

With a low, throbbing 'whuff' of displaced air, a huge pair of black wings abruptly appeared from Eicca's back. Huge they were and black like a dark angel's. Antero leapt up, fighting the urge to scream in a most uncool manner.

Then the same happened to Perttu - his wings were also black, but leathery, like bat wings. Finally, Paavo let out a most un-Paavo like shriek and two long, wicked horns sprouted from his forehead. At the same time, wings appeared from his shoulders - wings of steel, silver and cruelly barbed.

Antero blinked.

The other three stopped screaming and got up, all looking at each other.

There was a long silence, then three sets of scarlet eyes swivelled to stare at Antero.

"Oh bugger," Antero whispered.

***

Eicca advanced, his wings spreading ominously. He folded his arms and looked down at the pale and trembling, not-so-cool-anymore Antero.

"Guys, he hasn't changed," he said at last.

Antero whimpered. "What are you?" he asked in a trembling voice.

"We are the Riders of the Apocalypse - Death..." Eicca motioned to himself. "War -" he pointed to Paavo, who growled, "and Pestilence."

"Beast," Perttu corrected with a sniff.

Eicca ignored him. "But we're supposed to be four. You're supposed to change too," he continued.

"Me?" Antero squeaked.

"You're supposed to be Famine," Paavo said.

"But something's gone wrong," Eicca sighed. "Max was the fourth rider but now he's no longer one of us."

"That's the problem," Perttu said. "Antero isn't one of us - not really."

"You have a point, Pestilence," Eicca said stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Beast!"

"So how do we get him to change?" Paavo asked.

"Easy - initiate him into the group," Perttu said with a shrug. "It only involves a hamster, a vacuum cleaner and three ping-pong balls."

Paavo growled.

"Um... I'm not sure I want to be Famine..." Antero quavered. His cool was well and truly gone. It was in the coop with all the other chickens.

"You have to." Eicca's wings flapped and Antero held onto his chair to avoid being swept away. "The time is at hand. Our domination is come. We must carry out that which we were made for - the ritual of Harmageddon."

"Very poetic," Paavo said in admiration.

"Kiitos... anyway, we can't do it without you. You have to join us."

"But I don't want to be Famine. It's just not cool." Antero trembled.

"Famine's pretty cool." Perttu grinned. "And you get these really cool wings and a horse... which is cool..."

"Times have changed," Eicca said sternly. "We no longer ride steeds of flesh. Now we have steeds of iron."

Perttu blinked. "Steeds of..." Understanding dawned. "Oh no. No way are you getting me on a motorbike! Remember what happened last time? My jaw still aches in cold weather."

"Hard luck," Eicca said heartlessly. "Antero - you will be Famine. You will join with us and help us carry out the ritual of Harmageddon on the Cello of Doom."

"Doom?" Antero asked, eyes widening behind his glasses. "Cello of... doom? That sounds nasty."

"It 'is' nasty. It's Doom," Paavo said.

"Can't get more Doom-like," Perttu agreed.

"Except maybe DOOM," Paavo added.

"Okay, okay, we've established it's pretty Doomy," Eicca sighed. "Now can we get on with the story?"

"Sure."

"So you must join with us," Eicca continued. "You will be one with the Riders and become that which you were made for. You will be Famine," he announced in a... Doom-laden voice.

"That was really Doomy," Perttu sniggered.

Antero paused. He looked round at the alien creatures his friends had become, at their huge wings, their blood red eyes, at the curved, evil horns that sprouted from Paavo's forehead, at the smaller, but just as evil-looking horns that poked from Perttu's hair.

He sighed. "Do I get to keep my sunglasses?"

******

An hour later, Antero looked at himself in the mirror. The initiation rite hasn't been too horrific, though he didn't think the vacuum cleaner would ever be quite right again. Now he was one of the Riders.

He had wings - twas true and, yes, they were rather cool - if one ignored the tattered, almost see through quality of them. He wondered if he could actually fly. The horns, however, were annoying.

Try as he might, he couldn't get his sunglasses to fit around them. They sprouted from the side of his head like bison horns.

After a few minutes of bending the wire in his glasses, he gave up. Wordlessly, Paavo gave him some duct tape.

"Had the same problem," he said.

"I can't be cool wearing duct tape on my glasses," he sulked.

"Take them off. It won't kill you," Perttu shrugged.

***

"Put him down!"

"No."

"Tero...!"

"He told me to take off my glasses."

"I don't care. Put him down!" Eicca glared.

Antero put Perttu down, marvelling at the new strength in his arms. He spent a while longer examining himself all over to see what other changes there were, but, apart from a terrible hunger and a kind of gauntness to his features that hadn't been there before, and of course the wings and horns, he looked the same as always.

"Any body got anything to eat?" he asked.

"Eggs," Paavo said, motioning to the fridge.

Antero helped himself to eggs and stood there peeling and munching as the four Riders gathered. Eicca gave him another glare. "Must you?"

"I'm hungry!"

"He 'is' famine," Paavo said reasonably.

Rolling his eyes in an exasperated manner, Eicca shook his head, then a serious expression came over his face. He raised his arms and spread his wings.

"The time has come. The end of the world is nigh. We four must carry out our task before the father of time can blow his horn and put an end to the lives of the miserable minions of this planet."

"Minions - there are always minions," Perttu muttered.

"Hold on," Antero mumbled with his mouth full of egg. "Destroy the world? We can't destroy it!"

"Why not?" Eicca asked pointedly. "We ARE the Riders of the Apocalypse"

"But can't we be the Good Riders of the Apocalypse?"

"GOOD Riders?" Eicca asked in a scathing tone. "Like, perhaps.. the four Riders of the Rainbow or Flowers, maybe? Bow down in obedience to the four Quite Nice Actually Riders of the Apocalypse - Bunny, Daisy, Teddy bear and Kitten! I DON'T think so!"

"Who's going to be Kitten?" Perttu spoke up.

"NO ONE! " screamed Eicca! "WE'RE THE BAD ASS RIDERS OF THE APOCALYPSE AND WE'RE GOING TO DESTROY THE WORLD"

"Shame... I quite liked Kitten," Perttu sulked

"It's better than pestilence," Paavo snickered

"BEAST!" Perttu pouted

"Besides," Antero said, "I'd look silly in a bunny suit."

"Who said you could be Bunny?" Eicca glared... then caught himself, "uh... I mean..." He took a deep breath. "Enough!" he roared. "Let's get moving. We must follow the Hamster of Prophecy to where the Cello of Doom can be found. And there, we must carry out the Ritual of Harmageddon."

"Hamster of Prophecy?" Paavo looked a little worried.

"Yes. It should be turning up at any moment."

"Um... you mean... that hamster we used in the initiation ritual?" Paavo pointed at a small smear of bloody fur in the corner.

Eicca glared at him. "Please don't tell me you killed the Hamster of Prophecy?"

"It was nibbling my nuts!" Paavo protested. "I had to do something."

"Your own fault for leaving your pistachio nuts out on the table," Perttu snapped.

"Nuts? Where?" Antero looked around hopefully for something more to eat.

"War killed the hamster of Prophecy!" Eicca clapped his hands over his eyes. "Now we can't find the Cello of Doom."

"War! Huh! What is he good for?" Perttu shook his head.

"Absolutely nothing," Eicca replied, "except killing hamsters."

"What shall we do?" Perttu flapped his wings in agitation.

"We could always follow the sign," Antero said, popping another pistachio nut out of its shell and eating it hungrily.

"What sign?"

"That sign." Antero pointed. In front of them, stuck in the middle of the carpet was a large sign in the shape of an arrow. On it was red writing.

'THIS WAY TO THE CELLO OF DOOM."

"You're kidding me!" Eicca stared at it. After a moment, he shook his head. "All right. Let's get on our Steeds of Iron and find that sucker."

All four trooped out to the front of the studio. Before them were three beautiful, black Harley-Davidson's, chrome gleaming, engines already purring as if possessed with their own life force.

"There's only three," Paavo remarked.

"It's okay. I've got my own transport," Perttu said, disappearing round the corner. A moment later he reappeared riding a bicycle.

The back wheel squeaked.

Eicca groaned.

****

The sun was setting; blazing blood on the horizon. The air froze the bones, creeping, like the chill of death, into the lungs of all who dared to venture out. A dark, lonely road, girded by trees, their branches stretching overhead in phantom fingers; was lit by stark white light.

An unearthly noise hit the silence of the night.

VRRRROOOOMMMMMMMMM!

VVVVVRRRRROOOOMMMM!

VVRRROOOOOO^OOOOOMMM!

SQUEAKY-SQUEAKY.

***

Eicca halted his steed of iron and the engine purtled to a halt. Beside him the other three came to a stop as he dismounted his steed.

"You're a bloody Rider of the Apocalypse! you can't Ride around on a vittuun bicycle!" he screamed at Perttu.

Perttu pouted.

His lip trembled.

"Leave me alone... I've got a spork and I know how to use it," he said at last.

"A what?"

Perttu sighed. "Never mind"

Eicca groaned. "I worry about that boy," he told Paavo.

Paavo shrugged. "Maybe we should do the Robe of Despair thing. It might make him more intimidating.

Eicca nodded and raised his arms in a melodramatic manner. Abruptly, he was clothed in a black robe, his wings flapped behind him, leaving a wake of sorrow and mourning, a loss, a grief of death, or something poetic like that.

"I AM DeaTh. SeE ME And BewarE!" he intoned.

Paavo blinked. "What's wrong with your voice?"

Eicca cleared his throat. "Just getting the... uh... I mean, JUST GETTING THE HANG OF IT!"

Paavo shrugged. "Suits you."

Antero spoke up. "What does this Cello of Doom look like, anyway?"

Eicca cleared his throat again. "LIKE A SKULL!"

"Why does it always have to look like a skull? Why can't it look like something else for a change?" Perttu muttered.

Eicca just had to ask. "Like what?" he enquired in his normal voice.

Perttu thought about this. "A cello?" he said at last. "I mean, it IS a cello... so why does it have to look like a skull?"

"Because it's the Cello of Doom you idiot!" Eicca sighed.

"Doom, Doom... always Doom," Antero muttered. "Why can't it be the cello of something nice?"

Eicca gave up. "Fine... let's be the four Very Pleasant Riders of the Apocalypse and go look for the Cello of Sunshine. Vittu. When they wrote the Bible, I bet this wasn't quite what they had in mind!"

"We can't be the riders of the Apocalypse," Perttu argued.. "Not if we're 'not' ending the world"

"Semantics!" Paavo rolled his eyes.

Eicca curbed the urge to jump up and down and scream.

Instead, he took a deep breath...

...counted to ten...

...got to Yksi...

f**k it...

"YOU IDIOTS. WE'RE THE RIDERS OF THE APOCALYPSE AND NOTHING CAN CHANGE THAT, SO GET ON YOUR STEEDS OF IRON AND CLOTHE YOURSELF IN YOUR ROBES OF DESPAIR AND LET'S KICK SOME SORRY EARTH ASS!"

"Okay, okay... I only asked..." Perttu pouted as he kicked the stand from his bicycle of terror and started pedalling.

"Give me a head's start," he called back.

************

Through the night the Riders rode, Death, War, Famine and Pestilence...

"BEAST!"

Oops, sorry... Beast. In search of the Cello of Doom, they were, on their steeds of iron...

"Aluminium - an iron bicycle wouldn't be very lightweight!"

Look - who's telling this story.... Pera?!

"Don't call me that! You know I hate it."

Sorry. Um, where was I? Oh yes.... on their steeds of iron and aluminium, they rode, cutting through the knife edge of the night...

"Get on with it. We don't need flowery description..."

I'm setting the scene. Anyway, who's the writer around here?

"I bet I can do better! Besides, this is 'my' idea you hijacked!"

Go do it then, but leave me to tell 'this' story. Hmmph... Cellists!

Abruptly a blue light stabbed the Rider's eyes. (Except for Famine, who was still wearing his glasses) then an unearthly howl filled the air, bringing the Riders to a standstill.

A dark figure, a black hole in the sudden silence emerged from the darkness, pinning the Riders where they stood. Each one looked nervous, each one felt himself sweat. Black feathered pinions rustled nervously. Pestil...

"I told you, it's BEAST!"

<sigh>

...Beast, lagging behind the others, drew his weapon of mass destruction....

A spork.

"Just what is a spork anyway?"

Half spoon, half fork. You think I'm letting you anywhere near a scythe with your track record of klutziness? Now shut up and let me get on with this!

Forward, the dark figure came. Death swallowed hard. What was it that could even strike fear into the black heart of Death himself? Even War was shaking.

At last, the figure walked into the lights of the steeds of Iron. In a basso-profundo voice it spoke, and the Riders quailed in their boots.

"Good evening, sir's? Do you realise you were travelling at 70 kph in a 40 kph zone?"

"Sorry, officer." Death spoke meekly. "We're late for the end of the world."

"I don't care if you're late for your grandmother's funeral. No speeding. I'll let you off this time, but you boys had better behave. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Yes, officer, thank you, officer." The Riders babbled and mounted their steeds.

Watching their speedometers carefully and observing the speed limit, the Riders of the Apocalypse continued on their quest to find the Cello of Doom. In order, they rode, Death, War, Famine and Pest.

"Pest? What happened to the '-ilence' part?"

You say what you mean, I'll say what I mean....

...and stop pouting!

Always, they searched, for the Cello of Doom, following the signs foretold in the mists of time, (mostly by the side of the road, but now and then, overhead when they rode an autobahn.)

And the steeds of iron shook terror into the hearts of men as they passed. Something was beginning. Something was building like thunderheads in the sky. The Apocalypse was nigh...

***

The Riders rode forth...

VRRRROOOOMMMMMMMMM!

VVVVVRRRRROOOOMMMM!

VVRRROOOOOO^OOOOOMMM!

.............................

..................................

........................................

SQUEAKY-SQUEAKY.

But Death called a halt, stopping his steed of iron in the middle of the road. War and Famine drew to a halt and, several minutes later, Pesti... dammit - I mean Beast - caught up with them. With a tinkle of his bell, he stopped and dismounted.

Everyone looked at him.

Pest looked behind him. Nothing. He looked around carefully.

Nothing.

"What?" he said at last.

"YOU'RE TOO SLOW." Death intoned in a doom-laden voice. He cleared his throat and spoke normally. "How can we be the Riders of the Apocalypse if we're LATE!"

Pest shrugged. "I can't help it. I'm not riding one of those things."

War suddenly snapped his fingers. "I have an idea," he said and handed Famine his chainsaw. Famine took it gingerly, not knowing what to do with it.

"I'm hungry," he said mournfully.

"Don't eat the chainsaw," War warned. "Or I'll just have to get violent." He rooted around in one of the panniers at the side of his motorbike.

Death glared. "Panniers?"

"I like to be prepared." War dragged out a couple of swords, a monkey wrench, a roll of gaffa tape, a half eaten egg sandwich - which Famine immediately snatched and scoffed - a spare wheel, another monkey wrench, bubble wrap and a stuffed porcupine.

"What's with the porcupine?" Death enquired sweetly.

"I can use it as a club if I run out of weapons," War said and threw it over his shoulder. "Never was much use."

Finally, after some searching, War found what he was looking for - a bungee rope.

He twanged it experimentally. "This will do." He hooked one end of the bungee onto Pest's....

"Stop calling me that!"

...Beast's handlebars and the other end, he fastened around the grab bar on the back of Death's steed of iron.

"We can tow him behind us now," he said standing back and rubbing his hands together in a satisfied manner.

"Good idea!" Famine grinned.

"Very good," Death beamed.

"I'm not sure..." Beast started.

"Oh shut up. Get on your bike and enjoy the ride." Death scowled and mounted his own machine.

A glowing sign appeared in front of them bearing the legend 'YOU'RE GETTING CLOSER TO THE CELLO OF DOOM'. Death pointed.

"LET'S GO," he announced in his doom-like voice.

They set off. The three machines roared off first (keeping to the speed limit) then the bungee tightened, started to stretch to its limit, and Beast was tugged gently along...

...to begin with.

'This is great!" Beast laughed, lifting his legs and putting them on the frame. The pedals starting moving round on their own, faster and faster. The bike started moving faster and faster. Suddenly, he wished he was wearing goggles. The wind was bringing tears to his eyes.

But the Riders were advancing towards their goal, relentless, with ever increasing speed - although still keeping to the speed limit.

VRRRROOOOMMMMMMMMM!

VVVVVRRRRROOOOMMMM!

VVRRROOOOOO^OOOOOMMM!

.............................

"VOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIII-VVVVIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTU!"

Then...

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!"

Once more the Riders ground to a halt.

But Beast kept going.

The bungee, having done its job and contracted, now, thanks to the force of gravity, expanded once more and Beast shot past the puzzled Riders. He held on grimly, shrieking at the top of his voice.

"Wheeeeerrrrrre arrrrrrrre the braaaaaaaaaaaaaaakes!"

Then, once more a siren filled the night air. Beast finally found the brakes on his bike and came to a sudden halt, ending up in a ditch. He lay there, dizzy but unhurt.

He fingered his jaw just to make sure.

A dark figure appeared above him.

"Good evening, sir. Did you know you were doing 200 kph in a 40 kph zone?"

***************

"Just don't mention the speeding ticket...."

"How can anyone get a speeding ticket on a bicycle!"

"I told you not to mention it! I could lose my license!"

"What license? You don't have a license. You take the bus!"

"If we bring the world to an end, we won't have to worry about it."

"I'm STARVING!"

Death pulled into a roadside restaurant. "Stop arguing!" he yelled to the bickering Riders. "The Riders of the Apocalypse don't argue!"

"Why not?" asked Famine, clutching his stomach. "Can we argue over dinner?"

"A good argument clears the air!" War said. "And war starts with arguments." he grinned maniacally.

Death looked around at the lowered clouds, the forks of lightning that followed them wherever they went, the rising wind. Nature knew that the end was nigh. He waved away the clouds of mosquitoes and flies, that, drawn by the presence of Pesti... Be... Pe... (you know.. I'm just going to call you Pestilence and have done. I'm the writer here!) Pestilence, were beginning to swarm. As his hand cut a swathe through the insects, hundreds fell to the floor, dead.

"Yeah, right!" he sighed. "Clear air."

War gazed down at the dead insects. "Our power is building," he said.

"Can we eat?" Famine asked plaintively.

"Go and get something. We'll wait out here," Death said.

The three remaining Riders loitered outside the restaurant, waiting for their hungry fourth member. War leaned on his Steed of Iron, whistling, as he cleaned his chainsaw. Pestilence wandered around, smoking, his wings keeping the flies away. Death stood sternly, arms folded, trying to look Death-like.

They waited.

Famine did not appear.

They waited some more.

Finally, Death threw up his hands. "War - go in and get him!"

"Why me?"

"Death does not walk into a restaurant and tear a missing Rider away from his breakfast."

"La-di-da, look at you!" Pestilence teased.

"Oh shut up!"

War sighed and wandered into the restaurant.

They waited.

Pestilence began to hum some unidentifiable tune. Death tried not to listen, but the words came to him.

"Money, money, money... must be funny..."

"Stop that!"

Pestilence pouted.

"Stop that too!"

"Spoilsport."

They waited.

On the air, Death could hear muffled shouts. He sighed. "Go in and see what's keeping them."

Pestilence opened his mouth to object, but the look in Death's eyes made him think again. He opened the door and went in.

Death waited.

Death waits for everyone.

It's his nature...

He's good at it.

Really good at it!

But now Death was getting REALLY pissed. Muttering ancient Finnish swear words under his breath, he walked into the restaurant.

And groaned...

*****************

Famine was sitting at a table with five plates of food in front of him, eating as if there would be no tomorrow (which, in fact, if the Riders got a move on and found the Cello of Doom, there wouldn't be) War was leaning up against the counter, looking casual, watching, with interest, a group of five truck drivers all beating the hell out of each other. Pestilence was waving away his now ever-present flies, standing by a bunch of people who looked to be very ill. As he looked up at Death, yet another broke out in huge red spots, gasped and keeled over, dead as a doornail.

"Get out of here!" shouted the woman behind the counter. "You're killing my customers. Bloody Riders of the Apocalypse... coming in here, giving my customers diseases, eating me out of house and home, causing punch ups! Go and annoy some other poor restaurant owner. And get those flies out of here. It's not hygienic, you know! Damn Pestilence."

"Beast!"

Death glared at her. She turned white, clutched her throat and collapsed into a large bowl of custard. Famine, having finished all his food, shoved her out of the custard and drank it.

Just then, the radio that had been playing in the background, started playing 'The Four Horsemen' by Metallica. Pestilence jumped over the counter, turned it right up and started head-banging maniacally whilst jumping around the room. In his wake, he left those customers that were still healthy (but perhaps a little bloodier than usual) collapsing with flu, plague, pneumonia and, in the case of one, a really bad case of acne.

Unfortunately, Pestilence got a little carried away. He ran, bang, right into a wooden door, unnoticed by the others.

"Are you quite finished?" Death asked.

"Um..." Famine looked around hopefully for more food.

"Let's go!" War said, tearing himself away from the truck drivers, who had beaten each other bloody and were now starting on the furniture.

"Um... guys... I can't move," Pestilence said in a muffled tone from the door."

Death sighed. "Why not?"

"Um... my horns are stuck..."

Everyone went over to see what had happened. Pestilence, carried away by his favourite song, had managed to embed his horns in the wood of the door. With a long suffering look on his face, Death grabbed Pestilence by the waist. War joined him and, still chewing, Famine grabbed his head.

They tugged.

"OWWW!"

They tugged again.

"Be careful. These are attached, you know!" came the howls of the Beast.

And once more they tugged.

The door came off its hinges.

Everyone looked at Pestilence, the fearsome Rider of the Apocalypse with a door on his head.

"Now what?" he asked in a pissed-off tone of voice.

"Suits you," said Famine.

The door was soon dealt with, however, with the trusty aid of War's chainsaw, Death's sythe and a bit of hard sporking.

As the Riders trooped out of the restaurant, Famine snatched up a left over sausage from one of the dead people slumped at a table.

"That's disgusting," War said.

"He didn't need it anymore," Famine replied, getting on his Steed of iron.

"Guys, we're being followed," Pestilence said.

Everyone looked round to see a group of girls standing there at a distance, holding 'Go Riders, Go' banners and wearing Cello of Doom T-shirts. One even had a banner reading "Beast, destroy the earth naked!'

Death made a face. "We'd better leave, before they want our autographs. We've been delayed enough..."

"But I like fans!" Pestilence pouted. "Can't we talk to them, just for a while? Pleeeeeeeese?" He batted his eyelashes at Death.

"The Riders do not sign autographs, neither do they pose for cute photos!" Death said sternly. He gunned up his engine, picked Pestilence up by the scruff of the neck and put him on the back of his own Steed. "No more bicycles for you, Pest. You're riding with me."

He sniffed and waved away a small horde of flies. "You're not wearing underwear again, are you?"

He didn't have to look round at Pestilence to see his reaction.

"And stop pouting!"

*****************

"Is that it?" Death asked.

War frowned, shrugged and looked at Pestilence.

"Dunno," said Pestilence.

"It says 'HEREIN LIES THE CELLO OF DOOM'," Famine said reasonably. "What do 'you' think?"

"Might be a trick."

"If it is, I'll spork whoever's responsible!" Pestilence was not in a good mood.

Death sniggered. "I think I want to see you sporking the Almighty."

"Oh shut up!"

"Shall we go in then?" War asked. "Time waits for no Rider."

"I suppose so," Death sighed.

Into the cavern they went, down deep into the depths of the earth where, according to legend (and the very large neon sign outside) the Cello of Doom lay hidden from the eyes of Mankind.

And short sighted Riders.

"OUCH! My toe! Someone get a light!" said War.

Death raised a torch that suddenly appeared in his hand.

"How does he do that?" Pestilence asked Famine in admiring tones.

"I'm Death," Death replied. "That's how."

The light from the torch glea...

"of Destruction..." Death added.

<sigh>

The light from the Torch of Destruction gleamed...

"Is 'gleamed' a good word?"

?

"I mean, it's not very dramatic, is it?"

Don't you start. It's bad enough with Pesti...

"BEAST!"

See what I mean! I just want to get this over with already. Stop trying to string it out!

"Suit yourself, but gleamed isn't a good word for the Torch of Destruction."

<sigh>

...burst forth into the cave, shedding...

"Cave of Echoes..."

What?

"It's called the Cave of Echoes!"

Look! Do you want to write this, or would you like me to write Death wearing a pink tutu?

"I just said..."

I know what you said. Shut up and do Death-like and Doomy things. Leave me alone!

........

........

.......

Have you shut up now?

"Yes!"

Sure?

"Yes!"

Good. Shall I get on with the story?

"YES!"

The Torch of Destruction burst forth with a bright light into the Cave of Echoes.

"Jumalauta!"

"Paskat!"

"Voi vittu!"

"I'm hungry!"

Everyone looked at Famine. He shrugged. "Well, I am!"

"Shut up complaining and make some kind of noise of amazement will you?" Death asked.

Famine sighed. "Oh bugger?" he offered helpfully.

"How do we know which one it is?" Pestilence asked, looking around the giant room.

"The Cello of Doom cannot be destroyed except with the ritual of Harmageddon," Death said.

"How do you know all this?" Famine asked.

"I read the script," Death replied

"Saves time," Pestilence agreed, nodding sagely.

"But there's millions of them," War said, looking aghast at the huge room, filled from floor to ceiling with cellos.

"But we can't go through them all," Famine said, looking worried. "We'll be here forever."

"That's why we have Beast, lord of cello killing," Death pointed out.

"Oh... so NOW I'm Beast," Pe... uh... Beast replied huffily. "I was Pestilence before..."

"Either kill them or give them a bad cold. It doesn't matter, as long as you find that cello!" Death yelled.

Beast picked up the first cello. raising it over his head he smashed it to smithereens on the floor. "Some help would be nice," he said after a few minutes.

At last, they were down to only a few cellos.

"Got to be one of these," Beast said, busily smashing yet another cello to tinder-wood

But he went through them all, one by one. One by one they joined the mass of woodchips on the floor.

At last...

None remained.

They looked at each other.

"We're buggered," War said at last.

"All that's left is this viola that someone accidentally put in with the cellos," Beast said, holding up the offending instrument.

"EWWWWW!" Everyone quailed in fear.

"Kill it! Kill it!" Death yelled, holding his wings up to shield himself from the loathsome object.

Beast obligingly threw it on the floor and trod on it

Nothing happened.

He jumped up and down on it.

It didn't break

He picked it up and smashed it against the wall.

Nada

"I don't believe this..." Death groaned, covering his eyes. "The Cello of Doom is a viola!"

Everyone looked at everyone else.

"Who can play viola?" War asked at last.

"Ick!"

"Not me!"

"Don't insult my intelligence!"

Eicca, otherwise known as Death, leader of the four riders shrugged. Slowly, his wings shrank, his eyes went back to their normal blue colour. As he changed back into Eicca Toppinen, the others, too, returned to human form. The wings vanished, the horns disappeared. Antero unstuck the gaffa tape from the side of his head and replaced his glasses.

Eicca sighed. "Let's go and work on that cello spinning trick we came up with," he said.

The four riders, Death, War, Famine and Pestilence...

"BEAST!" Perttu yelled.

... Beast rode into the sunset and the world took a deep breath, knowing it would live for an other million years...

Or at least until one of the Riders got their asses in gear and learned viola.

***********
END