[ WP ] After death , you find yourself in a generic office cubicle with Todd , the case worker appointed to debrief you on your life and prepare you for your reincarnation .

He introduced himself as Todd but did not offer a hand shake. I seemed unable to talk. Todd was wearing an ill fitting, 1970's, pea green leisure suit. His white shirt had the biggest collar I had ever seen, they looked like wings. He was short, fat, balding, and struggled to stand up from his desk. He used his sausage like finger to point at a chair and I sat. Todd's cube was comprised of two metal office chairs, a grey metal desk and a rather thick manila file folder stuffed with papers. The file was the only item on his desk. There were no photos, awards, diplomas, or bookshelves, absolutely nothing that could tell me anything more about Todd. Todd's thick hands snatched the folder off the desk and he started leafing through the documents as if each only had a few words. Todd was resting the bottom of the file on his ample stomach. I pushed myself up from the chair a little to try and get a look. Todd's eyes locked on mine, as if I had insulted his mother. This lasted for at least five seconds. He flapped his fat hand indicating I should sit back down and I did. 
 
 After just a minute or two he finally spoke. Todd's voice boomed and echoed like we were in an empty warehouse, `` So I hope your transfer here was relatively painless.'' I nodded. He continued, `` Good, well I'm Todd and it's my job to find you your next assignment.'' I had a million questions but I could n't talk. Todd had onion breath that easily made the trip across his desk, his teeth were yellowed and his puffy, red, right eye may have been hit in the past 48 hours. I could faintly hear other conversations, but I could n't recall seeing anyone else on my way to Todd's desk. I was begging my mouth to form words, questions, but it refused. 
 
 The story of my life could fill volumes. Over 19,000 days filled with all sorts of people, conversations, feelings and adventures. Sure there was a lot of soul grinding monotony, but my life was an epic story and I was the main character. Todd was able to sum it up in just a few sentences. Todd said, `` So it looks like you were a decent kid, and a respectable adult with a little booze problem. You made a few women happy and a wife somewhat miserable. You were a good friend to a few guys and took decent care of your folks as they aged. All and all not a bad trip, well done.'' There was so much I wanted to say, I thought words were going to burst from my chest and cover his walls with random letters. My life was so much more than that. I was screaming inside, NO, WAIT! Todd was nearly to the end of the file when he stopped, grimaced, growled and locked eyes with me again. He ripped a page from the file, slammed it on the desk and stabbed it hard, several times with his stubby finger. `` What is this?'' He bellowed. It was me, in my Chevy driving on the freeway. I wanted to say it but I could n't. He replied as if he read my thoughts, `` Yeah, it's you. Driving in the left lane. Do you know what the left lane is for?'' He asked. He was clearly agitated. I glanced at the photo again looking for a clue, but all I could think of was driving fast. Todd screamed, `` No. Asshole. The left lanes are for passing. Passing slower cars. Assholes like you think you can just cruise in the left lane as long as you're going fast''. He made air quotes and continued, `` Fast is subjective, passing is not. If everyone would just get the hell over after they pass, traffic would be so much better. What a jerk. You're going back as a snail. Have fun being slow you inconsiderate prick.'' Todd waved his fat hand and I was floating inside an egg. Probably a snail. I still had so many questions.
