Tea
Storage? I am Storage!
(Yup. Another one. I never tire of them.)
You know the scenario: the little old lady died last night and she is standing at the Pearly Gates talking to St Peter. So far, so good.
Suddenly there is a blood-curdling scream.
"Oh Goodness", says the little old lady, quite alarmed, "what on earth was that?"
"You mean 'what in heaven', my dear", says St Peter. "But don't worry, you'll soon get used to everything. That was just one of the new souls having the hole bored in his head so we can screw his halo on."
"Oh", says the little old lady. "I guess that's OK then."
They go back to filling out the forms and finding the right size angelic robe for her. But then there is another scream, even more spine-chilling than the first one.
"Oh Lord! What was that?"
"Oh just routine, my dear. It's a new soul being fitted with his wings. We have to bore holes in his shoulder-blades, you know. Perfectly normal. Now, about the sandals ..."
"No! I'm sorry St Peter, but I don't think I can go through with all that. Please, can't you send me to the other place?"
"Hell? You don't want to go to Hell, my dear. Trust me. It's a dreadful place! First thing that happens is you get raped and sodomised!"
"But I've already got the holes for that."
You know the scenario: the little old lady died last night and she is standing at the Pearly Gates talking to St Peter. So far, so good.
Suddenly there is a blood-curdling scream.
"Oh Goodness", says the little old lady, quite alarmed, "what on earth was that?"
"You mean 'what in heaven', my dear", says St Peter. "But don't worry, you'll soon get used to everything. That was just one of the new souls having the hole bored in his head so we can screw his halo on."
"Oh", says the little old lady. "I guess that's OK then."
They go back to filling out the forms and finding the right size angelic robe for her. But then there is another scream, even more spine-chilling than the first one.
"Oh Lord! What was that?"
"Oh just routine, my dear. It's a new soul being fitted with his wings. We have to bore holes in his shoulder-blades, you know. Perfectly normal. Now, about the sandals ..."
"No! I'm sorry St Peter, but I don't think I can go through with all that. Please, can't you send me to the other place?"
"Hell? You don't want to go to Hell, my dear. Trust me. It's a dreadful place! First thing that happens is you get raped and sodomised!"
"But I've already got the holes for that."
