St. Peter is reading through the
Big Book to see if the guy's name is written in it. After several
minutes, St. Peter closes the book, furrows his brow, and says, "I'm
sorry, I don't see your name written in the Book."
"How current is your copy?" he asks.
"I get a download every ten minutes," St. Peter replies, "why do you
ask?"
"I'm embarrassed to admit it, but I was always the stubborn type. It was
not until my death was immanent that I cried out to God, so my name
probably hasn't arrived to your copy yet."
"I'm glad to hear that," Pete says, "but while we're waiting for the
update to come through, can tell me about a really good deed that you
did in your life?"
The guys thinks for a moment and says, "Humm, well there was this one
time when I was drivin' down a road and I saw a giant group of biker
gang members harassing this poor girl. I slowed down, and sure enough,
there they were, about 20 of 'em torturing this poor woman. Infuriated,
I got out my car, grabbed a tire iron out of my trunk, and walked up to
the leader of the gang. He was a huge guy; 6-foot-4, 260 pounds, with a
studded leather jacket and a chain running from his nose to his ears. As
I walked up to the leader, the bikers formed a circle around me and told
me to get lost or I'd be next.
"So I ripped the leader's chain out of his face and smashed him over the
head with the tire iron. Then I turned around and yelled to the rest of
them, "Leave this poor innocent girl alone! You're all a bunch of SICK,
deranged animals! Go home before I really teach you a lesson in PAIN!"
St. Peter, duly impressed, says "Wow! When did this happen?"
"About three minutes ago."
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