[ WP ] You are a lawyer in God 's Court who and you must a find a way to get your newest client , Adolf Hitler , into Heaven via a loophole in the Lord 's legal system

`` His name is Adolf!'' Mr. Perry's voice echoed throughout the court. He instantly remembered who it was that he was talking to and adjusted his posture in an attempt to illustrate that it was passion and nothing else that aroused such an animated proclamation before his creator. 
 
 `` His name... is Adolf. This Hitler, this monster, this symbol of hate and evil, where is he? He is not beside me. Beside me stands a man. A man lost in madness. It is the man who is on trial. Not this image. This warped manifestation of horror that will forever be etched into history. They share the same face, my Lord. But please, judge the man and not the way that we, all of us, the world, see him.'' 
 
 The crowd simmered into a brief mutter. For fifteen years Mr. Perry had defended the most debauched and evil humans earth could throw up, and for fifteen years Mr. Perry had unsuccessfully defended every single one of them. Nearly 6000 souls sent straight back down and then sent down again much, much further to be processed by the endless administration offices of Satan. The crowd was not here to witness Mr. Perry ’ s defense. They were here for one thing and one thing only. Seeing the swift hammer of Justice being delivered by the Almighty was indeed impressive. Regardless of how many times you had seen it before, each time it felt a little more awe inspiring, a little more amazing, a little more… biblical. Naturally, Mr. Perry ’ s speech was of little interest next to such a spectacle. 
 
 “ It is Hitler! Look at his moustache! ” Cried a voice from the back. 
 Laughter rippled throughout the crowd. Even St. Peter gave a wry smile before addressing the room to call for order. 
 
 “ Thank you Mother Teresa but if we could keep that wit of yours concealed for today that would be greatly appreciated. ” 
 
 Mr. Perry ’ s momentum had all but entirely dissipated. Whilst he was sure God had no favourites, there were those who could get away with more than others, and Blessed Teresa of Calcutta was one of them. Her jibes had shaken his concentration for years, but they had become part and parcel of the entire affair. He shuffled his papers, looked at the disheveled dictator by his side and looked up at the dazzling light before him. 
 
 “ My Lor… ” 
 
 “ Send him to Heil! ” Yelled a familiar voice. An eruption of hysteria shook the building. All but Mr. Perry and his defendant and the Almighty were roaring and rolling in comic ecstasy. Composed and still, Mr. Perry turned to the crowd for the first time reacted to the heckling. 
 
 “ Mother Teresa! Did you not say yourself that those you cared for, those you looked after throughout the end of their lives, all came closer to God through their suffering? ” For the first time in his career Mr. Perry had silenced the room into an eerie sense of cosmic emptiness. Breaking the silence, St. Peter addressed Mr. Perry, all the while looking directly up and the silent observer. 
 
 “ This is true. ” 
 Shoes gently shuffled to create space between themselves and those saintly sandals. 
 
 “ And the charges against my defendant…? ” Mr. Perry asked, his shot now speeding through the sky seemingly certain to make a hole in one. 
 With an unnecessary glance at a paper, St. Peter, still looking for assistance in the eyes of God coughed out an answer. 
 
 “ Bringing insurmountable evil and suffering into the world. ” 
 
 “ Thank you. And how is it that we charge a man, condemn a man for bringing countless souls closer to their faith, closer to Christ… closer to you, my Lord? ” Mr. Perry stepped back ever so slightly from the table and embraced the bulging sense of anticipation that was suffocating the courtroom. He sat, awaiting his argument to be batted back and uttered his final line. 
 
 “ The defense rests. ” 
 
 St. Peter ’ s whispers into the ear of the almighty slowed and turned into nods. This was it. He had done it. His first success, Adolf Hitler. This was better than God ’ s wrath. This was… no one knew what this was. The masses that had gathered were ready to burst into an explosion of chaos and madness. St. Peter stood and looked down upon the ragged Austrian and into the fearful hope that was stirring within his eyes. 
 
 “ Hitler. ” He said softly, before taking one last look at God. “ Fine. But you still stole that spear. Guilty! ” 

