Patrick awakens, seeing nothing but fluffy white, light blue, and a big golden fence. He gets in a long line of people, gradually getting closer and closer to the gate. Finally, Patrick's turn nears, and the bearded winged man with a large book before him speaks.
"Thank you for your patience, my son. Might I ask your name?"
*scoffs* "I am not going to just give you my name, child. That is none of your business."
"It really is, but in any event- "child," prissy mannerisms, obese, reeks of stale beer and bar food... Patrick Tomlinson, I presume?"
"You must be a fan of mine! Would you like an autograph on your copy of In the Black? Who do I make it out to?"
"That certainly won't be necessary, but my name is Peter."
"Well, if you're not a fan and you know me, that must mean... YOU'RE ONE OF THOSE STALKERS! I hope you like prison, little baby Peter child. Stay where you are and wait for the knock."
sigh "I'm not a stalker, I'm the gatekeeper of Heaven. Please, can you at least tell me how you died?"
"I'm obviously not dead, stalker. If I was, how would I be talking to you? That is not how death works."
"Okay, look, I'm gonna level with you, we know exactly how you died. We just ask because we want you to feel a bit more in control as you make peace with things. It says here you were making chocolate toast in a bathtub and it fell in and electrocuted you, further knocking out electricity to the Milwaukee Children's Hospital."
"THAT WAS A WATER-RESISTANT TOASTER, CHILD! SUCH A THING WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED, NOR WOULD I BE SO WEAK THAT THAT WOULD HAVE KILLED ME! IF THAT'S TRUE AND YOU KNOW THAT, YOU REALLY MUST BE A STALKER!"
"There's no such thing as a- okay, that's not important. Look, this is the good place. Can you please tell us why you believe you would belong here and not the other place, the bad place?"
"My books have brought joy to thousands of people, if not millions."
"Let's see... it says here you actually sold 875 books total between five publications, and only seventeen people total read them, of which 2 of those genuinely enjoyed them, one of them being you and the other being your mother?"
"False, little stalker child. I'm not sure where you source your information, but it's clearly nonsense."
*exasperated sigh* "Okay, look. We both know you're not coming here between threatening the lives of your ex-wife and unborn daughter, the company you kept, and the general hatred and stupidity you brought into the world. Just go get in the other line. You're wasting time for those who actually have a shot."
"I will do no such thing. You go wait in the other line, Peter child. You have been instructed, many thousands of times, to cease contact with this ethereal spirit. Continuing to do so constitutes felony grave robbery. Do not contact this ethereal spirit again."
"Security..."