Nautilus watches Saint Peter, sitting at his desk on the neighbouring cloud. Occasionally, he lifts his right hand slowly and throws into the air a chain with three golden keys. From the rumours of souls that have passed him by unawares, Nautilus has heard that the keys are to secret doorways in Heaven. One is the main gate-key; the other, apparently, is Peter’s room-key; but the third, it is said, is able to unlock the doorway into the ‘room of dreams’.
Nautilus sighs and swings his legs off the cloud, wondering what dreams he would find realised within those walls.
As he glances over, Nautilus sees something that interests him. The Saint checks his watch, gets up, and Nautilus sees his chance. Jumping- or possibly floating- over to the other cloud, Nautilus gets into a roll and sneaks to the desk whilst Peter is off elsewhere.
Unfortunately, as Nautilus’ hand is sliding across the wooden counter, another hand comes –splat!- down upon it, crushing some of the bones. If he wasn’t sitting on the cloud, already dead and therefore free of Earthly pains, Nautilus would have cried out in agony.
Nevertheless, knowing that he is in trouble, he cautiously looks up, feeling rather sheepish. In fact, he is so sheepish that he suddenly morphs into a sheep.
There stands Saint Peter, miffed. One hand on Nautilus’ hoof and the other on his hip, Peter rolls his eyes.
What does he say first?