So old Bob carked it (sorry – passed on..), did the journey and at last sighted the Pearly Gates, where, on cue, St Peter stood.
Bob approached and somewhat tentatively enquired how the judgment had gone, and his ultimate destination.
St Peter smiled and explained that up here the situation had radically changed. Evidently management consultants had been invited. As a result there was a whole reorganization of what was now Afterlife Inc:
Less hierarchy, newer flatter structures and amalgamation were key innovations; its most significant feature - the focus on consumer autonomy and choice. Given two temporary short term passes to both Heaven and Hell, Bob would visit both and make his own decision on permanent residency.
Bob opted for Hell as his first visit - felt he might even say G’day (hello) to a few of his old mates there.
And he couldn’t believe it – Hell was very much like a German beer Keller. Included a band playing subtle jazzy music with a steady pleasing beat. Lovely ladies on stools, eyes flashing, all at him. The beer was cool and very close to the German original.
Bob gloried in the first few days of his stay, but felt that if Hell was as good as this, then Heaven would be……..
He took the fast lift and checked in to Heaven.
Oh dear – where had it all gone wrong? Where to begin? His white garment was ill fitting rough and scratchy – something Stores had lost and found again; his harp constantly out of tune; his cloud under the flight path of squads of chattering angels who dropped feathers which he had to sweep up continually.
Bob didn’t take long to make his choice – Hell was to be his permanent residency.
But, but, but…… What had happened here in his absence? The band was louder by half and the beat was just a steady monotonous thump; the women preoccupied, with legs now tightly crossed, and the beer warm and flat.
Totally mystified, Bob put this to Lucifer during his weekly inspection.
“Ah” said the Devil, “but on your first visit you were a tourist….”