While on her morning walk, Prime Minister Helen Clarke falls over, has a
heart attack and dies because the accident and emergency dept at her
nearest hospital is too understaffed to treat her in time.
So her soul arrives in Heaven and she is met by Saint Peter at the Pearly
Gates.
Welcome to Heaven,' says Saint Peter, 'Before you settle in, it seems
there is a problem. We seldom see a Socialist 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. He 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 eternity.'
'But I've already made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven,' replies
Clarke.
'I'm sorry .. But we have our rules,' Peter interjects. And, with that,
St. Peter escorts her to an elevator and she goes down, down, down...all the
way to Hell.
The doors open and she finds herself in the middle of a lush golf course.
The sun is shining in a cloudless sky. The temperature is a perfect 22
degrees Celsius. In the distance is a beautiful club-house. Standing in
front of it is David Lange and thousands of other Socialist luminaries who
had helped her out over the years --- Norm Kirk, Bill Rowling, etc. The
whole of the Labour Party leaders were there. Everyone laughing, happy,
and casually but expensively dressed.
They run to greet her, to hug her and 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 Clarke with a frosty drink, 'Have a tequila and
relax, Helen!'
'Uh, I can't drink anymore, I took a pledge,' says Clarke, dejectedly.
'This is Hell, Helen. You can drink and eat all you want and not worry and it
just gets better from there!'
Clarke takes the drink and finds herself liking the Devil, who she thinks
is a really very friendly bloke who tells funny jokes like herself and pulls
hilarious nasty pranks, kind of like the ones the
Labour Party pulled with the Education, Immigration, Tough on Crime
promises.
They are having such a great time that, before she realises it, it's time
to go. Everyone gives her a big hug and waves as Clarke steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, she is in Heaven again and Saint Peter is
waiting for her. 'Now it's time to visit Heaven,' the old man says,
opening the gate.
So for 24 hours Clarke 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. She
doesn't see anybody she knows and she isn't even treated like someone
special!
'Whoa,' she says uncomfortably to himself. 'David Lange never prepared me
for this!'
The day done, Saint Peter returns and says, '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, Clarke
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 Saint Peter escorts her to the elevator and she goes down, down, down,
all the way to Hell.
The doors of the elevator open and she is in the middle of a barren
scorched earth covered with garbage and toxic industrial wasteland, looking a bit like the eroded, rabbit and fox affected Australian outback, but worse and
more desolate.
She is horrified to see all of her friends, dressed in rags and chained
together, picking up the roadside rubbish and putting it into black
plastic bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Clarke and puts an arm around her shoulder." I
don't understand,' stammers a shocked Clarke, 'Yesterday I was here and 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. Now there's just a
wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!'
The Devil looks at her, smiles slyly and purrs, 'Yesterday we were
campaigning; today you voted for us!
( A old joke re-worded, but still very good. To All have a great weekend..dasser )
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