A young man died somewhat before his time in a motor accident, and found himself in Hell.
He sat in a hot ante-room surrounded by swirling sulphurous gases as he gloomily awaited his fate. He’d heard all the jokes. “OK lads, tea break’s over, back on your heads.” Being forced to listen to a continuous Barry Manilow tape. The electrodes on the goolies. It made him shiver.
Finally Satan arrived, detected the young chap’s demeanour and said, “Hey, why so glum? Hell’s not so bad!”
The young man replied, “Well, frankly I’m a bit depressed because I didn’t really expect to be here. I know I’ve played up a bit, and led an arguably wasted life and deflowered a few sweet young virgins that deserved better from me, but I didn’t think I’d been an evil person.”
The horny devil grinned. “Look, you wouldn’t be happy in Heaven, it’s a dreadful place. Full of do-gooders with those ghastly beatific smiles, always telling you to ‘have a nice day’ and singing dreary hymns. It’s the tweed jacket and twin-set mob. The food’s crap too. God tells me he’s jealous because in Heaven he gets all the boring self-righteous creeps who’ve been bothering him all their lives asking for stuff. This is the place for a young bloke like you. For instance, take Mondays. D’you like a drink at all?”
“Well, people always told me I drank too much.”
“You’re gonna love Mondays. We have a huge pissup. Unlimited quantities of everything. There’s 43 different beers from around the world, the best wines, mostly from Australia, full range of spirits, liqueurs of every virulent hue. We stuff ourselves with good pizza and chocolate mud cake, and you even get a case of beer to take back to your room for a nightcap. It’s a blast. Everyone gets shit-faced and we laugh, and sing and dance all day. Tell me, do you smoke?”
“Two packets a day since I was 15.”
“Well you’re going to love Tuesdays. It’s our big smoko day. Australian, English, American, French, Turkish, we’ve got the lot. Foot-long Cuban cigars, hookahs, you name it, every taste is catered for, and you can’t get cancer and die ‘cos you’re already dead, OK?”
The young fellow is starting to brighten up a bit, and asks, “So what about Wednesdays?”
“Ah, well Wednesday is my personal favourite. Do you like a flutter? Good, you are just going to love Wednesdays - Wednesday is gambling day. We have everything down here. Horses, dogs, boxing organized by Don King, slot machines, roulette, baccarat, poker, keno, two-up, two flies on the wall, who’s got the biggest dick; shit, we just gamble on everything! And there’s normally plenty of grog and smokes left over from earlier in the week so it turns into the biggest party you’ve ever been to. And if you lose all your money it doesn’t matter because we refill your wallet for next week. Some of our folks get up at 5 in the morning so they don’t miss a minute! Now, did you ever do drugs?”
“I guess you could say I got into bad company, and, yes, I have smoked a bit and snorted a bit, you know, just the usual.”
“In that case you will get a big, big buzz out of Thursdays. After such a huge Wednesday, a lot of the folks like to take it easy and get in touch with themselves. So we have the best grass, hash, coke, smack, opium, LSD, the works, from all around the world. And you can’t get addicted and die ‘cos you’re already dead. Geddit? Hell is great! You will just love Thursdays!”
By now the young fellow is getting positively excited about his after-life and asks the question that’s been bothering him. “So, what about sex?”
“Yes, sex, knew you’d be interested. Well, Friday is our huge, horny, rampant wild-sex-all-day day! Now, you are gay aren’t you?”
“Well, actually, no, I’m not at all gay, I’m absolutely straight.”
“Ahh, you’re gonna hate Fridays.”
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