Drake Best is a newly decesed 22 year old man, despite his better wishes he is a guardian spirit for a 2 year old baby. He can only re-enter heaven when the child dies... nothing in the rules says he can't speed that date up a little.
Without a doubt this truly was a lovely die. A lovely day to die.
My name is, well was - Drake Best, and even at the age of 22 I pretty much despised everyother person around me, humans can be such arrogent and annoyingly fickle creations. which is a shame really as we always had such premise, but as if the devil was a small child adding that extra bit of salt to God's mixture of humantiy we have the capability for such evil. Now don't get me wrong here, I know there are the few out there who are good and you reading this now must have some good qualities in you, but it's the capability that was the reason for my death. Mugged for the 89 pence, ciggerttes and mobile phone in my pocket. It's great how God has a sense of humour, I only stepped out to get myself a sandwich and strole through the park, but oh no I get 22 yards from my university campus and I get stabbed by some illiterate hooded fellow. Don't worry though, soon after he stabbed me the guy ran across a road and got himself creamed by my ambulance. HA! Irony/Karma Bitch!
See this is why I dislike other humans they always seem to mess things up when times are looking at there best, by best i mean good and by good i mean bareable and by bareable i mean; scrapping my term paper grade, chatting up girls in pubs (yet not getting any) and owning noobs on the internet. now that i think of it my life wasn't so great after all.
So anyway, I'm dead and much to my surprise i begin to see the gates of heaven - yes thats right none believers there is a heaven, but by christ is it hard to get into, it's worse than a celbrity nightclub, there you could lie saying your Tom Cruies' sister's, brother's, cousin's twin, but here they've got everything on you like the CIA fax all their information up to Saint Peter. so there i was standing in front of a big, white bearded, sunglass wearing old guy who held a list in his hand. He spoke with a London accent which was nails on a chalk board cringe worthy.
"Ight so ur name is?" question O mighty Saint
"My names Drake Best... Gov'ner" I retorted
This turns out was a bit of a mistake, although i said God has an ironic sense of humour his underlings it would seem. do not. He quickly lost that stupid London accent, although in hinsight i wish he'd kept it.
"Right, you jumped up little snot, be snippy with me and i will bitch slag you straight down to hell. and don't think it's that type of hell where you get proded by stakes, Oh no! a man of your age, you will get your penis and testicles put in a vice and squeezed flat, as your teeth get pulled out through your arse." The somewhat over exagorating but still scarily effective threaterning Saint thundered.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry I guess I'm just a little excited that I got into heaven"
"got into? oh no my boy you've not gotten into heaven just yet, you see all this paradise through the bars of the gate"
The Saint gestured towards the gate and as i peered through i cannot descripe in accurate words what i saw. it is said that everyone has their own personal heaven for some it would be a banquet of delishous food, for others veloptuos woman pouring wine and for even some still, for instence a person like me it was a quiet room with a unlimitated Xbox live subscription with people like Al83rt 1Nst1ne, and M0th3r Th3r3sa online playing COD. Needless to say i wanted in then and there, but it would seemed the SAint had another idea and this was just to tornet me.
As it turns out you can only get into heaven on a 100% clean slate, however the way of working out your pecentile is mind boggerlingly strange: number of lies told - Truths x good deeds done / bad deeds = (number) + money given to charity X religous status - Heartsbroken x 100 = your percentage, unfortunately as i've already said I don't like people and me being a athiest, so my persentage number was the highest in the world, the Saint even made a remark that Hitler's pecentage was higher then mine, but he hated the jews so he's being taught hebrew and jewish eqitute in hell right now. However and rather luckily for me I didn't do anything so bad that i had to go to hell i was however told i had to work my way into heaven, and as a child of the 20th century i was hoping it was a John Constantine affair, bitch slapping demons to hell.
Oh no, it's not. Turns out to pay off this debt of types a soul has to become a guardian spirit for who you might ask. well as i said God has a sense of humour. The reason why i got stabbed was because i walked down a back alley (how stereotypical right) the reason why i took this back alley was because a woman and her 4x4 buggy was in my way and wouldn't move out of my way. yep you guessed it I'm her kids guardian spirit now, and i can't move more then 4 feet away from it at any point in time, which i don't mind whilst the kids being breast fed by the mother as she is rather stunning in a 'She'll be the only woman i ever see with her rack out ever again' but what annoys me is when this kids put to bed and the mother goes out clubbing or brings a guy/girl back with her but oh no i get stuck invisablly looking after her kid who almost never shuts up. As her guardian spirit i need to take care of her, which is really open to interpretation especially todays slang. after all i leave this kids service when it dies, no time limit has been placed on this job of mine why can't i just speed things up? I began my approach towards the baby's crib and reached down towards her.