I sensitively applied pressure to the rusty

I sensitively applied pressure to the rusty door which then fell out of its frame and hit the ground with such a bang that might wake the hounds of hell.

I didn't wake the hounds but I sure as hell woke the devil cats. They moved as night and had eyes like distant bonfires. They took me to Cerebus within their jaws.

Delicately dangling from lightly clasped jaws my head and heels scraped the narrow tunnel. Oh lord, I thought to myself why didn't I just

buy a bus ticket to the underworld, like my Ma had suggested? After what seemed like (and in fact, was) eternity, the beast dropped me gently on the shores of the lake of fire. I

rented a houseboat beside the lake of fire and I waited another eternity or two. (One eternity looks pretty much like every other eternity, or so it seems to me.) When the Infernal

fire died down a bit during a glacial period, I made for the mountain of fire to try and escape Hell. They say the ones who reach the top get to Heaven, but I found only

the corpse of a frozen Sherpa laying next to a pile of depleted oxygen bottles; nothing else of biblical importance. Was I to die of exposure or head back down to Hell?

The answer was obvious, crawled back down from the rarified peaks of Heaven, towards the sulfury depths of Hell and warmed my bones in the first scalding hotspring among the damned

This. This is where I truly belonged. The fountain of bile in which I bathed seeped through my skin, turning it green. Hell's waters penetrated so deep as to touch my soul. That

would show those idiots back at home. I'd prove to them that I was the best, that there was nobody else like me, and ... then I died. Oops.