I had nothing left to live for. But I wasnt

I had nothing left to live for. But I wasnt going to kill myself. Mainly because I hated the thought that I might get stuck in some sort of purgatory or limbo for eternity. Instead

I trained to become a high sensation seeker. I actively pursued dangerous situations & activities that could get me killed, to save me the trouble & cover myself morally. First, I

went to a Tea Party demonstration with a Pro-Life pin. They sure didn't like that, but somehow I managed to survive. So after that, I decided to try my luck at

Casinojo, where I mulled over how those politicians could be so hypocritical about shirking responsibility. Just then the one-armed bandit goosed me, and I failed to duck in time.

So I died. It took three years for my soul to float up to heaven's gates. When I got there, there was no Saint Peter, instead there was a Mech Warrior standing in front of heaven.

This wasn't the heaven I had read about or heard preached. I was unprepared. But I climbed up into that mech suit and began pressing buttons, full of hope and confused awe.

The mech suit started up with a low hum, and a display of information lighting up on the sealed helmets screen. I started up the jetpack, and began to fly up, smoking trailing

Plasticene droplets which made all of us cough. I was coughing too. The parachute became nervous and threatened to let me drop into the taxis below on Sixth Avenue. I stopped and

the "end this fold" option. Jeremy found himself floating silently in nothingness, a character without a story, but is he really any worse off than the rest of us? I think not.