Hey, stop that! It's those kind of thoughts that kept you out of heaven in the first place!
You kick down your own door - you'll regret that later - and burst into the kitchen to pour yourself a shot of whisky. And another. And another. And then you hear a ruckus outside...
You cautiously peer out the window, your face a carnal prize between the legs of the curtains. You're not the only one left! All the crazies didn't get into heaven, either. Figures. Why did you kick your door down? Most of them are running through the streets with crowbars smashing up parked cars but some are meandering a bit more slowly, a tad more threateningly. What do those guys want?
Foolishly you continue to stare, fascinated by the unfolding anarchy in your once-quiet neighbourhood. Suddenly you realize that someone is staring right back at you - a very big someone with a lot of tattoos and a long rope. He smiles at you, winks, and begins to head for your door.
Search for a weapon in the cabinets! There might be a knife, or an axe, or maybe even a gun! No harm in killing people in self-defense now, you're not getting into heaven anyways.
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