Pearly Gatekeeper
21/8/98-25/8/98
21 August 1998 - PEARLY GATEKEEPER
I've got a new job now, replacing Saint Michael, or whoever it was, as the angel who stands at the Pearly Gates admitting people to Heaven. At this point, however, I'd like to raise the issue of the Pearly Gates themselves, which are not so much pearly, and a sort of metallic silver.
While I won't let this misnomer affect my work, I do feel something of a fraud when I welcome people to the Pearly Gates, when the gates don't even look 10% pearly.
22 August 1998 - PEARLY GATEKEEPER
Admitting people through the Pearly Gates can be a depressing task: how would you like having to deal with millions of people every day, who'd just found out that they've died?
The ones I hate most are the ones who whine: "But I'm not ready to die, blah, blah, blah." They make me sick: it's not as if dying is something you can get a refund on. You can't march into Marks & Spencer and demand they exchange your death for a new life. Ignorant, whingeing ingrates.
25 August 1998 - PEARLY GATEKEEPER
I got into trouble with Archangel Batterstein last night, for spitting over the edge of Heaven onto the heads of people coming up Jacob's Ladder.
Apparently, this isn't the behaviour expected of a Pearly Gatekeeper. I explained that I was bored out of my mind welcoming dead people into the Afterlife all day long, and that I'd do my job a lot better if they gave me a bottle of gin and some nude playing cards, but Batterstein just threatened to send me to Hell.
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