A politician died and ended up standing in front of the pearly gates.

Saint Peter looked at him, flicked through his book and found his name.

"So, you were a politician," said Saint Peter.

"Well, yes, is that a problem?" The man asked.

"Oh no, no problem, answered Saint Peter. "But we've recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work and unfortunately you will have to

spend a day in Hell."

After that however, you're free to choose where you want to spend eternity," Saint Peter replied.

"Wait, I have to spend a day in Hell??" Demanded the politician.

"Them's the rules," answered Saint Peter,clicked his fingers, and WOOMPH, the guy disappeared.

He awoke curled up with his hands over his eyes, knowing he was in Hell. He listened for screams, sniffed the air for brimstone.Just the smell of...is

that fabric softener? And cut grass.

"Open your eyes!" said a voice. "C'mon, wakey wakey, we've only got 24 hours!" Nervously, the politician uncovered his eyes, looked around and saw

he was in a hotel room. A nice one too -a penthouse suite with a smiling man in a suit, holding a martini. Who are you?" the politician demanded.

Well, I'm Satan!" said the man, handing him the drink and helping him to his feet. "Welcome to Hell!"

"Wait, this is Hell? But.. Where's all the pain and suffering?" the guy asked. Satan threw him a wink.

"Oh, we've been a bit mis-represented over the years, it's a long story. Anyway, this is your room. The minibar is of course free, as is the room service,

there are extra towels next to the hot tub and if you need anything, just call reception. But enough of this!

"It's a beautiful day, and if you'd care to look outside..." Slightly stunned by the opulent surroundings, the man wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling

windows, looked down and saw a group of people cheering and waving at him from a golf course.

"It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site, and there are another 6 just a few minutes' drive out past the beach and harbor," said Satan, answering his

unasked question. They headed down in the lift and walked out into the lobby, where everyone waved and welcomed the man as Satan signed

autographs and talked shop with the staff. The man walked out, he saw the group on the golf course was made up of of his old friends, people he'd

admired for years but never met or worked with, and people whose work he admired but who died long before his career started.

Out of the middle of the group group came his wife, with a smile and the body she had when she was 25. She threw her arms around him and planted

a delicate kiss on his cheek. Everyone cheered and his worst political enemy showed up as a 2 foot tall goblin-esque caddy.

He spent the day on the golf course, having the time of his life, laughing at jokes and carrying on important discussions, while holding his wife next to

him.

Later they returned to the hotel for dinner and had an enormous meal, perfectly cooked, which descended into a food-fight when someone threw a

bread roll at the next table (where Ghandi was having a game of truth-or-dare with Marilyn Monroe).

Not long after he and his wife returned to their suite and spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon.

After 3 hours of intense passion he fell asleep, wrapped in the 100% Egyptian cotton sheets.

He was awakened by Saint Peter.

"So, that was Hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I bet?"

"No sir!" said the man.

So then," said Saint Peter, "make your choice. It's Hell, which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on."

"Well...I know this sounds strange, but on balance, I think I'd prefer Hell," said the politician.

"Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" said Saint Peter, and clicked his fingers again.

The man woke up in total darkness. The stench of ammonia filled the air and distant screams were the only noise. As he adjusted he saw the only

light was from belches of flame far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulphurous ocean.

A sudden bolt of lightning revealed Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before and grinning, holding a soldering iron in one hand and a coil of

razor wire in the other.

"What's this?" cried the politician. "Where's the hotel? Where's my wife? Where's the minibar, the golf courses, the pool, the restaurant, the free drinks

and sunshine?"

"Ah", said Satan. "Yesterday we were campaigning. But today, you voted."

Last edited by Sportster; 21/11/23 12:54 AM.
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