The Road
A Few Words of Clarification from a Biblical Stalwart
by Kevin O'Cuinn
It's become so tiresome, souls griping and slowing down the line. I'm sick of it. So listen up, once and for all: The Road to Hell is not an actual road per se. Fact is, it's a toasting-hot river of foul-smelling chemicals. A river, okay? Whose name just happens to be The Road to Hell . . . Clear so far?
It isn't, wasn't, and as long as my name is Satan, won't ever be paved, with good intentions or anything, ever. So quit complaining, and keep that line moving.
It isn't at all difficult to find, The Road to Hell.
In fact, it's extremely well lit; upon dying, just follow the light. Chances are, you'll see already-deceased loved ones along the way, and old pets, . . . grandparents. And I suppose you'll want to join them for choir practice, or, I don't know—the trying on of wings, or just to catch up, you know, chit chat. Well, guess what? They are actually not the wispy remnants of your clan, but images that you projected from the earthly realm. Boo-hoo. Sure, it's generally a huge disappointment, but lighten up, most people do meet again, later, under much more interesting circumstances. So don't worry about not saying goodbye, and follow the light. Bitching and traffic permitting, The Road to Hell shouldn't take too long to navigate. The dragons and behemoths you'll see along the way are purely for dramatic effect—feel free to pet one if you so please. The real misery doesn't start till we've checked you in and got better acquainted. As custodian of your soul, I'm a hands-on type of tormentor. And remember, The Road to Hell may be hell to you, but for me, it's the way home. Absolutely no loitering, or there'll be hell to pay.
Sorry, I couldn't resist. That's it then, see you at The Gate. That's when the real fun begins.  |
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