A Politician dies and has to spend just one day in hell
A Politician ends up standing in front of the pearly gates. Saint Peter looks at him for a second, flicks through his book and finds his name.
"So you're a politician..."
"Well, yes, is that a problem?"
"Oh no, no problem. But, we have recently adopted a new system for people in your line of work and unfortunately you will have to spend a day in hell. After that however, you will be free to choose where you want to spend eternity!"
"Wait, I have to spend a day in hell?!" says the politician. Those are the rules replies Saint Peter. Saint Peter clicks his fingers and the politician awakes, curled up with his hands over his eyes and knowing he is in hell. Cautiously, the politician listens for the screams, sniffs the air for brimstone and finds nothing. Just the aroma of fabric softener and cut grass. The politician feels this can't be right.
The politician sees a smiling man in a suit holding a martini. "Who are you?" The politician asks. "Well, I am Satan and welcome to hell." "Wait, this is hell? But, where is all the pain and suffering?" the politician asks. Satan states, "We have been a bit misrepresented over the years and its a long story. Anyway, this is your room!The minibar is of course free, as is the room service, there's extra towels next to the hot-tub and if you need anything just call reception. But, it's a beautiful day and you should look outside" says Satan.
The politician wanders over to the window, through which the sun is glowing, and he sees a group of people cheering and waving to him from a golf course. "It's one of 5 pro-level courses on site and there's another 6 just a few minutes drive out past the beach and harbor!" says Satan, answering his unasked question.
So they walk out through the glittering lobby where everyone waves and welcomes the politician, as Satan signs autographs, shakes hands and exchanges pleasantries with well-wishers. As the politician walks out, he sees the group on the golf course are made up of every one of his old friends. And out of the middle of this group walks his wife with the body she had when she was twenty. After the politician and his wife return to their penthouse suite, they spend the rest of the night making love like they did on their honeymoon. After hours of passion, the politician falls into a deep sleep and is woken up by Saint Peter.
"So that was hell. Wasn't what you were expecting, I'll bet?" "No Sir," says the politician. "So then," says Saint Peter, "You can make your choice. It's Hell which you saw, or Heaven, which has choral singing, talking to God, white robes, and so on."
"Well, I know this sounds strange, I think I'd prefer Hell," says the politician. "Not a problem, we totally understand! Enjoy!" says Saint Peter and clicks his fingers again.
The politician wakes up in total darkness, the stench of ammonia filling the air and distant screams the only noise. As he adjusts, he can see the only light is from belches of flames far away, illuminating the ragged remains of people being tortured or burning in a sulfurous ocean. A sudden bolt of lightning reveals Satan next to him, wearing the same suit as before. "What's this?" the politician cries. "Where's the penthouse suite? Where's my wife? Where's the minibar? Where's the golf courses, the free drinks and the sunshine?"
"Ah," says Satan. "You see, yesterday we were campaigning. But, today, you voted".
Source: Conservative Byte, 20 February 2016