A/N:

Hello again! I was so excited to start writing this fanfic, you have no idea. It's so much happier than my last one – Bad Parenting – and I'm trying to make it as funny as possible. This one will be about 3-4 chapters (I promise I won't go over that this time), and is pure bizarreness. I got the idea for this when I was watching the X-Factor and my mind was drifting, so I hope you enjoy it!

P.S. This fanfic is dedicated to blackrabbitkani, who helped by giving me a few ideas for various things. Thank you!

It was a rather tedious day in Heaven and in Hell. The angels (in particular, Michael and Castiel) were not really doing much, mostly paperwork or reading up on various holy books, as that is the only form of leisure in Heaven, other than aimlessly wandering through arbitrary residents personal Heavens, which some younger, more adventurous angels prefer to others. On the other end of the spectrum was Hell. An equal, if not increased amount of paperwork was demanding to be filled out for many demons, and it always caused them to be down in the dumps – well, for a demon, being 'down in the dumps' consisted of being extra snappy and threatening to agonisingly torture fellow demons left, right and centre. The King of the Crossroads was particularly bored, having excessive amounts of forms to fill out far above the regular demons. Many souls had been converted into demons too recently; therefore there was a significantly depleted amount of human souls left to torture, which was another reason for the immense boredom concerning the citizens of Hell. Up in the definitely more celestial kingdom, a few angels situated in separate areas of Heaven sighed collectively, as did many demons in Hell, however the latter was accompanied by simultaneous sassy eye-rolling.

Michael, the big-daddy archangel, was perched at his clean white desk, which he had already tidied up several times. He stared at the pure (also white) walls of his office and dreamed about the day that he would inhabit his true vessel and wander the Earth again. It was a far-fetched dream, though.

Castiel, the trench coat-clad seraph, was currently observing the 'righteous man', who appeared to be arguing with his brother about which Led Zeppelin album was the best, to which the younger brother was replying with the counter that he wasn't even particularly keen on the classic rock band, then the older brother retorted by claiming how weird he was, since 'classic rock is the best genre in music, you freak' (quote unquote). The angel smiled to himself. Although he didn't understand what they were talking about, being unbelievably oblivious to human traits and hobbies, he always enjoyed watching and listening to the Winchesters.

Balthazar, the sassiest angel in the garrison, was also situated on Earth. He could be found in a nightclub in Russia by the name of 'Небо и земля' ('Heaven and Earth'), which he himself had actually created. The angel was having a rave party with a group of newfound companions (they were extraordinarily laid-back for Russians, and Balthazar did have a sneaking suspicion that they were, in fact, werewolves, however they were great company, so what the hell) who had offered him some interesting looking glow-in-the-dark drugs. Naturally, he gladly accepted. And so he remained partying, planning on doing so until the early hours of the morning.

Samandriel, the adorable angelic baby, was simply reading in a little corner of Heaven, a beautiful garden in which he loved to relax in his spare moments. The book he was currently reading ('Good Omens') was one which his big brother Gabriel had smuggled into Heaven for him from down on Earth, since any form of enjoyment seemed to be banned up there, plus the trickster had said it was a particularly amusing story. Humans made the best literature, in his opinion; Samandriel's personal favourite was 'The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.' A faint smile played upon the angel's lips as he read through the book, occasionally peering out and gazing at the pure tranquillity of the garden in which he sat.

Crowley, the most awesome crossroads demon there has ever been and ever will be, perched at his mahogany desk that was splashed with the periodical drop of blood from a demon he killed for his incompetence earlier on in the day, closely cradling a glass of Craig. He sighed at the stack of paperwork that was almost out-facing him, and continued his work, reluctantly picking up the next piece of paper on the pile.

Meg, probably the most loyal of Lucifer's loyalists, was attempting to train some hellhounds in the hellhound-training area of Hell; however one of them, who she had named Romeo, was being particularly rebellious. He refused to obey a word she said, so eventually, she simply uttered a brief incantation that would cause the puppy to yelp in pain every time he did the opposite of what she told him to do.

Abaddon, the only remaining Knight of Hell and world's angriest ginger, stood tall over an excessive pile of corpses, entrails dripping from her clawed hands. She was on Earth, and had just massacred a small village of people in order to vent her anger. She figured they wouldn't be missed. After doing such a thing, she had nothing left to do, therefore teleported to a main street in New York and aimlessly wandered down it, freaking out various people she passed on the pavement due to the fact that she was still covered in the crimson of her victims.

Lucifer, who art still locked up in the Cage, sighed despairingly as he felt a particular sense of boredom. All he longed for was something to do; he wished he had some good literature to re-read, for example 'The Shining', or 'The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde', his personal favourites. But he didn't, therefore he simply slumped against the wall of his cell and stared into the worst corner of Hell.

All of the aforementioned angels and demons simultaneously heard a slight chuckle as they were doing whatever I said they were doing before shortly finding themselves in a room together. Well, not so much a room, as a giant indoor stage which was surrounded by thousands upon thousands of tiered chairs, yet one row was in front of the rest, directly in front of the stage, and consisted of four chairs only.

"What the devil is going on here?" Balthazar was the first to comment as the unlikely group of supernatural beings glanced around in confusion and slight fury, in some cases.

"Oh, I'm right here." Lucifer replied, taking the angel's expression literally. On realising that Satan himself was beside them all, everyone's reactions were instantaneous.

"Brother…" Michael whispered ominously.

"Daddy! You're home!" Meg ran up to Lucifer, throwing her arms lovingly around him.

"Oh no." Castiel and Samandriel muttered in synchronisation, then glanced at each other and said 'hi.' Meanwhile, Crowley screamed by accident, yelled 'bloody hell', and almost ran away while Abaddon simply rolled her eyes, as if she still found the whole thing tedious and clearly thought everyone else in the room was an idiot. Once everyone had vaguely got over Satan's presence, they tried to turn to the situation at hand, yet the subject soon changed back to argument.

"Was this you, brother? Did you summon us all here?" Michael inquired, sounding more offended than genuinely curious.

"Why would I do that? You all despise me, and I you. Plus, how could I if I was still in the Cage?" Lucifer made a good point.

"And we all know whose fault that is, don't we? Fool…" Balthazar added. Normally, he would have realised that blatantly insulting the Devil was a terrible mistake, however he was still slightly tipsy from clubbing, and Lucifer ignored him nonetheless.

"May I ask, why did you fall, Lucifer?" Samandriel asked politely, his shy voice quiet and strangely nice, considering who he was speaking to and what was actually happening.

"Really? You're gonna ask a question like that at a time like this?" Abaddon raised her eyebrows and shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm sorry – I-I just… I always wanted to ask you that question personally, and now you're here, I just thought I would maybe- I don't know…" The adorable baby angel trailed off and melted into the background, suddenly aware of how ridiculous he sounded.

"Seriously you guys, I think we should concentrate on who put us here." Meg piped up, finally pulling away from Lucifer, yet making sure one hand lingered in the air halfway between them at all times.

"I agree." Castiel defended the demon, glancing at her confusedly as she winked at him.

"The whore has a point. I blame the Winchesters." Crowley added, standing as far away from Satan as humanly (or rather, demonically) possible and constantly snatching hesitant glances at him. Lucifer still ignored him, and everyone else for that matter, instead staring intensely down at his hand.

"Sam and Dean did not do this. I would assume it's one of your kind. You tend to be the ones that mess everything up." The seraph retorted with a sassy tone, glaring at the King of the Crossroads as he leapt to defend the Winchesters and simultaneously managed to insult demons in general. He clearly had had enough of Crowley already, which wasn't much of a surprise.

"Whoa, whoa, hold up there! You're giving humans and demons credit for my doings? Try again, bro." A different yet instantly recognisable voice resonated throughout the theatre. The group all looked around the stage, scrutinising the darkness in the wings in the hope of finding a certain archangel, but with no luck. However, a moment later, said archangel appeared in the audience, sauntering casually down one of the aisles, munching on a chocolate bar as he approached his brothers and enemies with a supercilious grin plastered across his face.

"No, no, no. This is my own handiwork. Awesome, ain't it? It's actually based off the Grand Theatre in Leeds, England, but details, am I right?" Gabriel blabbered on as the various angels and demons before him simply stared, expecting him to carry on (my wayward son). So he did.

"Weeeell, I'm sure you're wanting to know why I brought you all here. The thing is, I'm bored with the whole Heaven and Hell malarkey. It's just angels pussy-footing around, waiting until the Apocalypse is upon us to finally make their move, while the demons do whatever the hell they want, if you'll pardon the pun. So I've come to settle it." A murmur rippled through the small crowd in response to the trickster's proposition.

"Gabriel…" Michael and Castiel both muttered, Cas sounding concerned, Michael somewhat more threatening, yet the youngest archangel silenced them.

"Don't worry, you'll live. Maybe." At that comment, coupled with Gabriel's jokey smirk, Michael prepared to smite him, yet the younger brother interceded, the grin falling from his face in fear; although Gabriel was the trickster, he knew the oldest archangel was more than capable of wiping him off the board if he so wished. "JK, JK, you'll live, okay?! Jeez, someone's touchy today…" Michael stood down, realising he was treating Gabriel in a similar way to how he also treated Lucifer. The only difference was that he would never in a million years hurt Gabriel. Regardless of his brother's thought process, the trickster continued addressing everyone.

"This is how it's gonna work: I've designed a talent show 'specially for you guys. There'll be one for Heaven and one for Hell. Basically, you lot" – Gabriel gestured to the angels – "have to invite the other peeps in the garrisons to participate in Heaven's talent show, and you lot" – Gabriel then switched his gaze to the demons – "invite all of your demon minions to take part in Hell's version. Make sure to tell them it can be any act, such as singing, dancing, hell, even summoning a cute little human out of a hat. They can use supernatural powers, but not to harm anyone. For once, I'm being a pacifist. That takes us to your job. Michael, Cas, Balthazar and Sammy, you will be the judges for Heaven, and Crowley, Meg, Abaddouche- I mean Abaddon and Luci, you are the allocated judges for Hell. You have to choose a winner, whichever act is the most fabulous and awesome and- what I'm saying is, pick the act that reminds you most of me. Capiche?"

"Wait – what happens to the winner? There will be two, so what will they do?" Meg inquired, evidently believing in asking relevant questions. Although she usually despised anyone who stood in her way and insisted on playing games with her, she actually kind of liked the guy. He certainly had style.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out, missy. But I'll give you a hint: only one side can win. Have fun judging, droogs. And may the best man, woman, angel, demon, supernaturally powerful or nerdy weakling supernatural dude win. Adios." After a seductive wiggle of his eyebrows, Gabriel clicked his fingers and disappeared.