Heaven's Choices
While on his morning walk, Prime Minister John Howard falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency ward at his nearest
hospital is too understaffed to treat him in time. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by St Peter at the Pearly Gates.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there
is a problem. We seldom see a Liberal around these parts, so we're not
sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the PM.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God Himself, who says that since the implementation of His new HEAVEN CHOICES policy,
you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for all eternity."
"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," simpers Howard.
"I'm sorry but we have our rules," Peter says firmly. And with that he escorts Howard to an elevator, which goes down, down, down ... all
the way to Hell.
When the doors open Johnny finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course. The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a
perfect 24 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse, and standing in front of it is Bob Menzies and other Liberal Party luminaries who have
helped him out over the years - Harold Holt, John Gorton, Billy McMahon;they' re all there, and everyone is laughing, happy, and casually but expensively
dressed.
They run to greet him, hug him and start to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They
play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Howard with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, John!"
"Uh, I can't drink any more, I took a pledge," says Howard, dejectedly.
"Hell, son, this is Hell! You can drink and eat all you want without a worry, and it just gets better from there!"
Howard takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself
and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the Liberals pulled with the GST and the Free Trade Agreement promises.
They are having such a great time that, before he realises it it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as he steps on the elevator and heads
upward. When the elevator door reopens he is in Heaven again and St Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says,
opening the gate.
So for 24 hours Howard is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things
other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or short-arse joke among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster - and these people are all poor Johnny doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special.
"Whoa," he thinks to himself. "Bob Menzies never prepared me for this!"
The day done, St Peter returns. "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity."
With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Howard reflects for a minute ... then answers: "Well, I would never have
thought I'd say this - I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all, but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends." So St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell. When the elevator doors open he is in the middle of a barren, scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial waste. He is horrified to see his friends dressed in rags and chained together, picking up rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They groan and moan in pain, their faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Howard and puts an arm around his shoulder."Welcome, John!"
"I don't understand," stammers a shocked Howard. "Yesterday there was a golf course and a club-house, and we ate lobster and caviar, and drank
tequila; we lazed around and had a great time and now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us!"
While on his morning walk, Prime Minister John Howard falls over, has a heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency ward at his nearest
hospital is too understaffed to treat him in time. So his soul arrives in Heaven and he is met by St Peter at the Pearly Gates.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there
is a problem. We seldom see a Liberal around these parts, so we're not
sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a good Christian; I'm a believer," says the PM.
"I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from God Himself, who says that since the implementation of His new HEAVEN CHOICES policy,
you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for all eternity."
"But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," simpers Howard.
"I'm sorry but we have our rules," Peter says firmly. And with that he escorts Howard to an elevator, which goes down, down, down ... all
the way to Hell.
When the doors open Johnny finds himself in the middle of a lush golf course. The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a
perfect 24 degrees. In the distance is a beautiful clubhouse, and standing in front of it is Bob Menzies and other Liberal Party luminaries who have
helped him out over the years - Harold Holt, John Gorton, Billy McMahon;they' re all there, and everyone is laughing, happy, and casually but expensively
dressed.
They run to greet him, hug him and start to reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of 'suckers and peasants.' They
play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Howard with a frosty drink, "Have a tequila and relax, John!"
"Uh, I can't drink any more, I took a pledge," says Howard, dejectedly.
"Hell, son, this is Hell! You can drink and eat all you want without a worry, and it just gets better from there!"
Howard takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like himself
and pulls hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the Liberals pulled with the GST and the Free Trade Agreement promises.
They are having such a great time that, before he realises it it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as he steps on the elevator and heads
upward. When the elevator door reopens he is in Heaven again and St Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says,
opening the gate.
So for 24 hours Howard is made to hang out with a bunch of honest, good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things
other than money and treat each other decently. Not a nasty prank or short-arse joke among them. No fancy country clubs here and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster - and these people are all poor Johnny doesn't see anybody he knows and he isn't even treated like someone special.
"Whoa," he thinks to himself. "Bob Menzies never prepared me for this!"
The day done, St Peter returns. "Well, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity."
With the 'Deal or No Deal' theme playing softly in the background, Howard reflects for a minute ... then answers: "Well, I would never have
thought I'd say this - I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all, but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends." So St Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell. When the elevator doors open he is in the middle of a barren, scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial waste. He is horrified to see his friends dressed in rags and chained together, picking up rubbish and putting it into black plastic bags. They groan and moan in pain, their faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Howard and puts an arm around his shoulder."Welcome, John!"
"I don't understand," stammers a shocked Howard. "Yesterday there was a golf course and a club-house, and we ate lobster and caviar, and drank
tequila; we lazed around and had a great time and now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him, smiles slyly and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us!"