Hey Apocalypse!
It started the way many office distractions did: One person more interested in surfing the Web than working would come across an unusual/amusing/shocking headline/video/picture, say “Oh my God!” loudly enough to draw attention to him/herself, his/her neighbors would start rubbernecking to see what the fuss was about, they’d look it up themselves, make their own exclamations, and on it would go down the rows of cubicles until whatever it was had diverted the attention of most of the workforce.
The closer it got to the holidays, the more of these there had been at Barry’s office, and the dumber they seemed to get every day. It was to the point where a video of some guy slipping on the ice would be enough to prevent anything from being accomplished post-lunchtime.
And so it was with the news of the meteors. The difference being that this particular event warranted distraction.
Because, you know: The end of the world and what-not.
It was a curiously well-organized Armageddon. It started in the Far East and then made its way across the planet, a few time zones at a time in a remarkably orderly fashion. Throughout the day, the headlines rolled in, starting with “Meteors May Be Headed For Earth”, which was followed quickly by “Meteor Lands In Pacific, Triggers Massive Tsunami”, then “Meteor Hits, Obliterates Australia”.
From there, in fairly short order, it was “Western Asia, Eastern Europe Destroyed”, “Meteors Hit Iranian Nuclear Facility, Cause Worst Meltdown Since Fukushima Dai-ichi”, “Meteors Wipe Out Rest Of Europe, Most Of Africa”, “South America Destroyed”, and then, as the meteors closed in on North America: “That’s All, Folks”.
Barry’s colleagues were–understandably–freaking the heck out. Barry, however, just sat there amidst the sobbing, screaming, looting, and flying papers and debris. It had already been confirmed that the next meteor–the one that would likely take all of them out–was going to hit within minutes. Sure, he wanted to see his girlfriend, get drunk, have sex with a stranger–whatever you did when the end of the world was imminent–as much as the next guy, but the meteors had come out of nowhere and had come too fast for anyone on Earth to do anything about them but report the damage. So he wasn’t going to do any of that end-is-nigh stuff, and he decided he sure as heck wasn’t going to have a mental breakdown about it.
Instead, thanks to the song playing over the office Muzak system (barely audible above the weeping and gnashing of teeth), Barry found himself, in his last moments on Earth, preoccupied by a single, chilling thought:
If there’s an afterlife, will “Hey Santa!” be stuck in my head for all eternity?
8thdayfiction 
I was not familiar with the song so I looked it up. If this little gem is what you’re referring to, it would be a hellish eternity indeed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VO8NYJ0bZ1c I can see why Barry would focus on it being stuck in his head rather than saying goodbye to a loved one, etc. Makes PERFECT SENSE.
That’s EXACTLY the one I’m referring to. Probably the second-worst Christmas song ever (I think “Christmas Shoes” is still the worst).
Christmas Shoes IS awful, but also (and it might just be me) a portion of my dignity dies every time I sing The Little Drummer Boy, specifically “pa rum pum pum pum.” Even as a child it felt silly, and a disbelief grew over the bit about “the ox and lamb kept time.” I mean, I’m no farmer, but that’s some rather remarkable musicianship coming from livestock. Also, to try to suspend my disbelief even further, the whole premise of the song is flawed, as a mother of a newborn infant isn’t exactly begging to have DRUMS played after giving birth in a barn after an exhausting donkey ride.
All valid points. I’ve never been a big fan of “Little Drummer Boy” either, particularly the “ox and lamb kept time” line.
No, “You Light Up My Life” will be.
That would also make for a not-so-great eternity.