"Would you care to take a guess as to how many beings, in all the universe, were accepted into Heaven last year? Hmm?"
Bartleby shrugged. "No idea."
"Come on now. All last year. Three hundred and sixty-five day's worth of deaths. Out of all the octillions of life forms in the universe, how many do you think He decided were pious enough to enter His kingdom?"
"Um.... A million?" Bartleby guessed, thinking that would be pretty low.
The demon was wearing a sick grin. "Six."
"Six million?"
"No. Six."
Bartleby's eyes went wide in horror. "Please tell me you're kidding."
"I'm not. Six. Six souls, out of an uncountable number of newly dead. That's unconscionable, of course, but what frightens me even more is trying to imagine what sort of torturous, masochistic, impossibly repressive lives those six must have lived in order to obey every one of his thousands of contradictory rules... And, oh my soul, what must that twisted, omnipotent madman consider Heaven to be now?"
Bartleby shrugged. "No idea."
"Come on now. All last year. Three hundred and sixty-five day's worth of deaths. Out of all the octillions of life forms in the universe, how many do you think He decided were pious enough to enter His kingdom?"
"Um.... A million?" Bartleby guessed, thinking that would be pretty low.
The demon was wearing a sick grin. "Six."
"Six million?"
"No. Six."
Bartleby's eyes went wide in horror. "Please tell me you're kidding."
"I'm not. Six. Six souls, out of an uncountable number of newly dead. That's unconscionable, of course, but what frightens me even more is trying to imagine what sort of torturous, masochistic, impossibly repressive lives those six must have lived in order to obey every one of his thousands of contradictory rules... And, oh my soul, what must that twisted, omnipotent madman consider Heaven to be now?"
— Bartleby Tales
"Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat; Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it."
— Matthew 7:13-14 (KJV)
Michael: All along, I've only been looking at one Doug, but there's millions of Dougs in here. In 1534, Douglass Wynegar of Hawkhurst, England, gave his grandmother roses for her birthday. He picked them himself, walked them over to her, she was happy, boom, 145 points. Now yeah, here we go: In 2009, Doug Ewing of Scaggsville, Maryland, also gave his grandmother a dozen roses, but he lost four points. Why? Because he ordered roses using a cell phone that was made in a sweatshop. The flowers were grown with toxic pesticides, picked by exploited migrant workers, delivered from thousands of miles away, which created a massive carbon footprint, and his money went to a billionaire racist CEO who sends his female employees pictures of his genitals. Whoo!
Tahani: That is a very odd thing to cheer.
Michael: Don't you understand? The Bad Place isn't tampering with points; they don't have to. Because every day the world gets a little more complicated, and being a good person gets a little harder.
JP: Oh no! Am I to suffer my eternal punishment for my bottomless greed, endless arrogance, two-faced nature, and excessively long ad segments?
Demon: Actually, there's this small backwater church in Minnesota that is the only correct religion. But don't feel too bad. I'm pretty sure even in the most lax interpretation of divine law, you would still have ended up here.
Burnie: Why did you go to hell instead of heaven anyway? You've always been a pretty good guy.
Matt: All Mac users go to hell.
Burnie: Really?!
Matt: You know, it's the whole "forbidden fruit" thing.
Burnie: But that was like...a hundred years ago!
Matt: That guy can really hold a grudge.
Matt: All Mac users go to hell.
Burnie: Really?!
Matt: You know, it's the whole "forbidden fruit" thing.
Burnie: But that was like...a hundred years ago!
Matt: That guy can really hold a grudge.
"Nobody's perfect! That's why everyone goes to Hell!"
Charlie: Grandma? What are you doing here?
Charlie's Grandma: OH I cursed and said DAMN in 1958 when I saw your grandfather getting shot in the head by that ROTTEN burglar.
Charlie: That seems a little bit unreasonable, I don't think you should be in Hell for that.
Charlie's Grandma: OH I cursed and said DAMN in 1958 when I saw your grandfather getting shot in the head by that ROTTEN burglar.
Charlie: That seems a little bit unreasonable, I don't think you should be in Hell for that.
"The fact that there is a Stairway to Heaven and a Highway to Hell says a lot about expected traffic levels."
— Kerry Hoath, Twitter.
Woman: Don't all roads lead to the same place anyway?
TradBoi42: Yeah... but it's not heaven.
TradBoi42: Yeah... but it's not heaven.
'Cause in the eyes of the organization I was raised in,
Aes is just another sinning brick in Hell's basement
Cubicle adjacent to the killers and rapists,
And for what? Drugs and fuckin' is part of growin' up
Aes is just another sinning brick in Hell's basement
Cubicle adjacent to the killers and rapists,
And for what? Drugs and fuckin' is part of growin' up
— Aesop Rock, "Holy Smokes"
Hilgya: Humans, you have it easy. When you die, you go to whichever Outer Plane best fits your beliefs or whatever. For us, we have to be "honorable" or we end up enslaved by Hel — even if we think the concept of honor is a steaming load of gorgon poo.
Elan: That doesn't sound fair.
Hilgya: Exactly! It's not. It's not fair at all. It's a totally bogus deal we didn't choose, and it shapes everything about our lives and culture.
Elan: That doesn't sound fair.
Hilgya: Exactly! It's not. It's not fair at all. It's a totally bogus deal we didn't choose, and it shapes everything about our lives and culture.
