The end of the world was preceded by diligent rehearsal. The messiah was bathed, dressed, equipped with a handkerchief to wipe snot and then trotted out in processions to announce intentions learnt by heart from a piece of paper.
The divine father brought in as a replacement for the one who had died of a heart attack was extracted from the garbage bins, given a hangover cure and told to keep awake.
They knew there would be a voice from on high, but just to be sure, they played recordings of artistic impressions of the same. These were interspersed with music for easy listening.
The final day started late because the avatar’s car broke down en route. He had been riding on the bonnet with his flaming sword, and he fell on his face and broke his nose when the car stopped, so the maniacal laughter had to be done by someone else in the wings while the avatar lip-synced.
All in all, though, it went well. The world ended, so there’s that.