sauce for the goose

My feminist cousin Pauline accosts me on Main Street.
"If I'm ever unconcscious and hovering on the edge of death," quoth she, "under no circumstances are you to get your religious maniac prayer women to sing for me."
"Pauline!" cries I cheerfully, "The Judaeo Christian tradition about the sanctity of life notwithstanding, if you're unconscious and on the edge of death, and I'm keeping vigil at the bedside, I can assure you, I'll be pulling the plug."
"No prayer women," persists ye cousint.
"I might try getting you Led Zeppelin," I reply mollifyingly.