Title: "The Three Horse Women of the Apocalypse"
We see them approach separately, War and Pestilence arrive first on black horses.
Pestilence: Hi War.
War: Hi Pestilence!
Pestilence: Where's Death?
War: Here she comes.
Pestilence: Oh no what is she riding?
War: I wouldn't bring it up, she gets pretty touchy about it.
Pestilence: Yeah its probably for the best.
Death arrives riding a white sheep.
Death: Hello Ladies!
War and Pestilence: Hi there. How are you.
Death: good good.
They all remove their masks. And fill glasses of wine.
War: I've always wondered, why are there only three of us?
Pestilence – Horsewomen of the apocalypse?
War - Yes
Pestilence: I don't know. Maybe it's because we're the only ones who can handle the power.
Death: Or maybe it's because we're the only ones who are willing to do it.
War: I think it's because we're the only ones who are crazy enough.
Pestilence: Whatever the reason, we're the ones who bring the apocalypse.
Death: And we're damn good at it.
The three horsewomen clink their glasses together and laugh.
War: Ladies, focus! The real question is, why do people always think we're male? We're clearly female!
Pestilence: Maybe they're just blinded by my aura of death and decay. It's hard to tell gender when you're choking on toxic fumes.
War: No, no, we've been mistaken for men because our names are a bit ambiguous, asexual even.
Death: But we're the Horse Women of the Apocalypse! It's in our title!
Pestilence: (coughing) I think they hear “horse” and think "man." It's a common mistake. Should we change our names to something more feminine?
War: Absolutely not! We're not changing our names just because some mortals can't handle a bit of gender confusion.
War: So, why have we always been mistaken for male?
Pestilence: I don't know. Maybe it's because we're so powerful.
Death: Or maybe it's because we're so feared.
War: I think it's because people don't expect women to be so dangerous.
Pestilence: Well, they're wrong. We are the most dangerous creatures in the world.
Death: And we're not afraid to show it.
The three horsewomen stand up and raise their glasses in a toast.
War: To the three horsewomen of the apocalypse!
Pestilence: May we bring an end to all worlds and crush the hope of all who oppose us!
Death: And may we never be mistaken for male again!
The three horsewomen clink their glasses together and laugh
They replace their masks and declare.
War: I can't wait to see the look on their faces when we destroy everything they've ever loved!
Pestilence: I'm going to enjoy spreading corruption and disease throughout the land!
Death: And I'm going to collect the souls of the damned!
They rear their horses! and one sheep.