British man goes to Heaven
A British man dies and finds himself standing in front of the Pearly Gates.
St. Peter looks him over, flips through a clipboard, sighs thoughtfully.
"Well… you weren't perfect," he says. "But you were decent. Paid your taxes, helped old ladies, didn't microwave fish at work. Minor issues."
The man nods nervously.
"So," St. Peter continues, "one month in Purgatory, then you're cleared for Heaven."
Before agreeing, the man asks, "Would it be possible to just… have a look first?"
St. Peter shrugs and opens the gate a crack.
Inside Heaven: white sand beaches, crystal-clear water, sun that's warm but never uncomfortable. People are relaxed, laughing. Cold beer everywhere. Beautiful women in bikinis, no queues, no hangovers. The man smiles.
"Looks lovely," he says. "But, uh… could I also see Hell? Just to compare."
St. Peter hesitates, then waves him through a different door.
The man steps into Hell.
Same beach. Same water. Same weather. Same beer. Same women. A barbecue is going. Music is playing. People are laughing even louder. There's a huge red sign over the entrance that reads:
WELCOME TO HELL — NO PURGATORY REQUIRED
The man walks around in disbelief. Eventually he spots the Devil himself, leaning against a palm tree, drink in hand.
"Excuse me," the man says, "but I've just been to Heaven… and this looks exactly the same."
The Devil smiles. "Oui, monsieur?"
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