[ WP ] You die and are greeted in the afterlife by the all knowing God ( choose one ) , ready to judge you . However , for some reason he has no recollection of you ever existing .

So, this is Heaven, huh? Looks pretty accurate to me. All golden arches and white clouds— what is this, McDonalds? 
 
 I'm standing in front of the stereotypical God. Huge guy, jacked as all hell, long white beard and hair. He looks down at me with deep, all-knowing blue eyes. 
 
 `` Hi,'' I wave to him. 
 
 His thick eyebrows weave together in confusion. You'd think everyone in Heaven would have perfect eyebrows, but no. They're bushy and wild— come on, God, step up your game. 
 
 `` Who are you?'' he booms, voice like rolling thunder. Wow, that's cliché. Tone it down a bit, would you? 
 
 `` Uh, are n't you supposed to know that?'' I ask, scratching my head. `` You know, since you're all-knowing and all that.'' 
 
 God is frowning at me. Ah, shit. I'm gon na get smited or whatever now, are n't I? Three minutes into Heaven and I've already pissed off God. 
 
 `` Yes,'' he says slowly, puzzled, `` And yet I do not know you.'' 
 
 I lift my shoulders in a shrug. `` Well, damn. So how'bout this whole Heaven thing? Do I still get in?'' 
 
 Honestly, I do n't see the big deal about this. God does n't know me, so what? He's got a lot of things on his mind. 
 
 God shakes his head. `` How do I know if you've done something terrible in life? What if I'm letting a murderer in here?'' 
 
 I raise an eyebrow. `` Only things I've ever killed were bugs.'' 
 
 `` Not yourself?'' God questions. 
 
 `` Not myself,'' I confirm. `` Think I got in a car crash, honestly.'' 
 
 God produces a newspaper out of nowhere— he does n't have any pockets or anything, and from the way the paper is rolled up, I'm *really* hoping that did n't come from where I think it did. He unfurls it and his eyes skim over it. `` This you?'' he asks, pointing at the front-page story, a car wreck. 
 
 `` Sure,'' I say, `` That's my car.'' 
 
 God rubs his temples and sighs, reading the article. `` This name does n't ring any bells. Who— Jesus Christ—'' 
 
 Well, at this point, the guy who I assume is the literal fucking Jesus Christ pops up. `` Sup, Dad,'' he says, and his dad looks even more irritated. `` Whatcha want?'' 
 
 `` Who's this kid?'' God asks, gesturing to me. Jesus Christ looks me over, shrugging. 
 
 `` I dunno.'' 
 
 `` M'name's Jack,'' I supply helpfully. God shakes his head. `` So, are you gon na let me in?'' 
 
 `` I just— sure, whatever. Just go in, I don't— I hate my job,'' God sighs. 
 
 Jesus Christ waves goodbye to me. That's pretty fucking cool.
