One day, a guy dies and finds himself in Hell. As he is wallowing in despair, he meets a demon.

Demon: "Why so sad, my friend?"

Guy: "What do you think? I'm in Hell!"

Demon: "Hell's not so bad. We actually have a lot of fun down here. You a drinkin' man?"

Guy: "Sure, I love to drink."

Demon: "Well, you're gonna love Mondays then. On Mondays, that's all we do, is drink. Whiskey, tequila, vodka, beer... We drink till we throw up and then drink some more."

Guy: "Gee, that sounds great!"

Demon: "You a smoker?"

Guy: "You better believe it."

Demon: "Alright! You're gonna love Tuesdays. We get the finest cigars from around the world and smoke our fucking lungs out. If you get cancer, it's ok, you're already dead!"

Guy: "Golly"

Demon: "I bet you like to gamble."

Guy: "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do."

Demon: "Good, because Wednesday is gambling day. Craps, blackjack, horse races, you name it."

Guy: "Wow."

Demon: "You like to do drugs?"

Guy: "Well, I love to do drugs. You don't mean..."

Demon: "That's right! Thursday is drug day. Help yourself to a great big bowl of crack. Smoke a joint the size of a submarine. You can do all the drugs you want, and if you overdose, it's ok... You're already dead!"

Guy: "Neat! I never realized Hell was such a swingin' place!"

Demon: "You gay?"

Guy: "Uh, no."

Demon: "Ohhh... You're gonna hate Fridays...."

A Pagan dies and, to his great surprise, he finds himself standing before some pearly gates. The Pagan asks, "Where am I?"

Peter says, "You're at the gates of Heaven."

The Pagan says, "But I don't believe in Heaven."

Peter frowns at him. "You're one of those Pagans, aren't you?"

"Yes. I believe I'm in the wrong place; I'm supposed to go to Summerland."

Peter says, "Sorry. We took over Summerland, and it's temporarily closed for remodeling."

"What should I do now?"

Peter says, "Well, since we don't allow Pagans in Heaven, you have to go to Hell. Sorry. Just follow that path that leads downward and to the left."

The Pagan walks down to Hell, where the gates are standing open. He walks in and finds beautiful meadows, happy animals, and clear streams of water.

He walks on in and begins exploring, and after a few minutes a courtly gentleman walks up to him and bows politely. "Hello, I'm Satan. You must be the guy that St. Peter phoned me about. Are you a Pagan?"

"Yes, I am. What's going to happen now?"

Satan says, "Well, the fishing's pretty good, if you enjoy that sort of thing. There's a little refreshment stand down the road. And I believe the Pagan meeting grounds are right over the next hill."

Suddenly, a hole opens up in the sky above, and a yawning chasm opens directly underneath it. The stench of sulfur fills the air. Hundreds of screaming, tortured souls drop down into the flaming pit, which immediately closes up with a thud.

The Pagan, hardly believing what he just saw, asks Satan, "And what was THAT ???"

Satan rolls his eyes. "Oh, just ignore them. They're Christians; they wouldn't have it any other way."