"Hello, John. Yes you are right, I am speaking to you now from the centre of the earth and it is rather "light" down here. I can float about and do just about anything and I feel fine. It is kind of hot and humid as you can expect and since it is very close to hell, quite noisy. There is a cacophony of screams and bangs and shrieks that sounds like, well, an inferno. You can hardly hear yourself think. I think I heard some late politicians making electoral promises and the odd TV evangelist complaining about the room service and the airconditioning but for the most part it is an undecipherable din of caterwauling. Apparently there are many husband and wives here, and girlfiends too in the same rooms. The husband is chained backwards to a TV with sports on it that the wife has to watch while he listens to the females make disparaging remarks about him or nag. We saw one demon run by chasing a teenage female rock singer and we stopped him to ask about the way out. He looked incredulous when we asked. "You want to go back upstairs?" he said, "What the hell for? People ask forever for what they deserve and now that they are getting it, they want something else? OK, just follow that staircase up there, the one that has all the good intentions written on every step. If you meet any Enron accountants, car salesmen, ministers, lawyers or politicians don't loan them any money, or sign anything, and whatever you do, don't hold their place in line while they go to the washroom as there is a substitution clause in their contracts with the chief, if they can find one more sucker before theIr time is up. We learned all we needed to know about running this place by following their example."
EC<:-} |
