Ah, Thomas! You're awake! Welcome to your new home!
Thomas rubs his eyes and looks around at the sumptuous surroundings. He seems to be in something like a five-star hotel suite, where the decor all matches or coordinates with the silver suit worn by the suave gentleman speaking to him now.
New home?
Yes! Your new Home. I'll be at your beck and call for the rest of your time here. You may call me The Master.
The "Master"? The "rest of my time here"? Where IS this place? It doesn't seem like any "home" I've ever seen before - in fact, it doesn't look like ANYWHERE I've seen before!
Where AM I?
Where do you think you are, Thomas?
Am I...dead?
The smile on The Master's face indicated accuracy.
This is, well, your eternal reward for your well-lived life, Thomas. Congratulations, and Welcome, from All of Us.
Then, You're....
Yes,
Wow! I'll be honest, um, 'Master', I wasn't sure I was going to get to Heaven when I died. I mean, I really wasn't much of a Bible reader or a church goer, you know? Yeah, of course you know! You wrote the thing, right?
Yes. But hey, I'm not that strict on rules like that. Sure, you were supposed to be reading that book, but it's not really important, you know?
Yeah....So, like wow, man, I can't believe I'm here.
Indeed, Thomas, you are here. Say, would you excuse me? I just need to turn the thermostat back up a few degrees. It seems a bit chilly in here to me.
It does? Oh, Master, I don't think so. It's already plenty warm in here, don't you think?
Oh, not to me, Thomas. Not for us...
Realization dawns on Thomas, and he screams.
☀
Where - huh? Where am I?Richard! I'm glad you woke up while I was here! Welcome to your new home!
New home? I was sleeping just now - how could I have a new home?
Make yourself comfortable, Richard. Look around and enjoy! You may call me... The Master.
The Master? The Master of what?
Of here, Richard! The house of many rooms!
And now, Richard's memory of his Bible study came back to him. "In My Father's House are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?" John 14:2.
I'm dead?
That you are, child. That you are. Heart attack in your sleep, dead as a doornail. All that over-eating, smoking, and other abuse to your body took its toll on you, child. Fortunately, that stuff isn't that important to Me.
But, so, you must be...
I must be, yes.
And this is the....
House with many rooms? The same. Welcome. Take a look at your new eternal home, Richard.
It was utterly beautiful. The lush reds and browns worked together immaculately, and the entire place looked like a penthouse suite at the Ritz Carlton. Richard rushed around to find a window to look out of, assuming it was a penthouse, but there were none to be found.
"Master"? Why are there no windows, only fireplaces? If this is Heaven,....
....then what would be out there that would be better than what you have in here? The view would just be of more of the same house, to be frank.
And why all the fireplaces? It's plenty warm already, and none of the fireplaces are even lit!
Oh, they're lit. Watch this. The Master snaps his fingers, and all six of them snap to life. And now, our home can start to warm up to its, ah, more appropriate temperature. Right?
What? Why? Isn't this Heaven?
And now a smile crept across the Master's face, one that didn't match the joviality he'd shown before.
Heaven? Whatever gave you the idea that you deserved Heaven, Richard? Just because you open a Bible once in a while doesn't mean you followed what it told you to do, does it?
Oh, my G....And I found I couldn't utter His Name now. Proof that I must really be in...
HHHEEELLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!..........
☀
This is a really weird dream. Usually I can tell when I'm dreaming, but here... Pinching doesn't seem to change anything. Maybe I'm really here? Wherever "here" is....
Ah, Harry! Welcome back to the land of the living! Ah, so to speak! Here's hoping you're comfortable so far, yes?
What are you talking about? Where are we? And who are you?
Mmmmm, you don't remember what happened to you? The car accident?
What car accident? I was sleeping,... I thought....
Ah, well, yes, you were sleeping, but you were also driving at the time. Does any of that ring a bell?
Oh...Oh my g... yes, yes, now I remember. So - what happened? Am I dead? Is this Heaven?
And you may call me The Master. Yes, Harry, you are indeed dead. But to ease your conscience, no, you didn't kill anyone else when you crashed. Your criminal record is clear.
Oh, that's a relief! Thank go - goodness! I always wondered if I'd make it to Heaven or not. You see, L...
Call me Master, please.
As you wish,... Master. I worried that my drinking would be a problem with God. I went to church faithfully, I always put my twenty in the pot every Sunday, I read along with the pastor every week. I thought I was a good Christian. But my wife kept harping at me about my drinking, that it was a sin in the eyes of the ...
Well, as you can clearly see, you're here. Proverbs 23:20 just says, "Be not among drunkards," and that wasn't you at all, was it, Harry?
No! No... I, ah, I usually drank alone. Down at the end of the bar, night after night. I didn't see the problem! But she just kept harping on it whenever I came home late. And I was damned if I was going to listen to it tonight! Er... whatever night it was...
"Tonight" is fine, Harry. Go on.
Well, it was half past eleven, and I was going to make it home tonight, y'know? But - aw, I don't know what happened, Master. You must be right - I must've fallen asleep.
Fallen is such an appropriate word, Harry... Do you know the ending of Proverbs 23? Verses 29 through 35?
Wh-? No. No, I don't. I mean, I tried to read more, but I...
Who has woe? Who has sorrow?, the Master begins.
Who has strife? Who has complaining?
Who has wounds without cause?Who has redness of eyes?
Those who tarry long over wine;those who go to try mixed wine.
Do not look at wine when it is red,when it sparkles in the cupand goes down smoothly.
In the end it bites like a serpent (suddenly, the Master hisses like a serpent, and transformsssss...)
and stings like an adder.
Your eyes will see strange things,
and your heart utter perverse things. (What is going ON, Master? I thought this was...)
You will be like one who lies down in the midst of the sea,
like one who lies on the top of a mast.
“They struck me,” you will say,i “but I was not hurt;they beat me, but I did not feel it.When shall I awake? (I am dreaming...I must be...)
Do not look at wine when it is red,when it sparkles in the cupand goes down smoothly.
In the end it bites like a serpent (suddenly, the Master hisses like a serpent, and transformsssss...)
and stings like an adder.
Your eyes will see strange things,
and your heart utter perverse things. (What is going ON, Master? I thought this was...)
You will be like one who lies down in the midst of the sea,
like one who lies on the top of a mast.
“They struck me,” you will say,i “but I was not hurt;they beat me, but I did not feel it.When shall I awake? (I am dreaming...I must be...)
I must have another drink.”
Another drink - yes! - I must have - another - dra...AAAAAAAAAGGH!!!!!!!
☀
What IS this place? It looks like - Ah mean, it looks laike the farm Ah grew up on, but it cain't be that!Why not, Tommy?
What?! Who!? Who are you, 'n where are you?
I am the Master of this ... place.
"This place" looks like the farm ah grew up on, Master, sir. You'ze the Master of this here farm?
I am, yes.
Beggin' yer pardon, then, Mr. Master, sir, but, ah... why am ah here?
You, my friend, are dead, and this is where you've come now that you're dead. Do you remember dying?
Do ah remember dyin'? Shoot, if ah'd died. ah think ah'd remember that, right?
One would think, yes. But you'd be surprised by what we don't know... What DO you remember, Tommy?
Well, lessee. Ah remember haing'n out back o' the shed with MaryLou...an' Tina...
I see. And these women were whom? Your sisters, perhaps?
Sisters? Aw, heck no! They're jus' two pieces o' tail I wuz hitt'n on while Jenny was off at work.
Ah. "Two pieces of tail". So, they were animals, then?
Animals? What kinda person are you, "Master"? Naw, they'ze two hot babes I met at the bar that night. I don't do it with no animals! Whadda I look like, man?
Indeed. So, you were fraternizing with these two women while your - wife? Girlfriend? Sister? - was at work.
What is it wit' you and sisters, man? Jenny's mah wife, o' course! Works at the bar on th' other side-ah town night shifts. That's why ah come down to the bar down on the north side o' town to mess around, so she don't ketch me mess'n 'round.
Say...this is the farm ah grew up on. There's the milk'n shed, and this must be th' pig sty. Ain't no pigs in it, 'course...don't see no animals anywhere, now that ah think of it.
Tommy, do you know where you are and what's happened to you?
Well, far as ah can reckon, Ah'm dead, lak you says I am, and this is Heaven.
And what makes you conclude this?
Wail, Master, sir, it seems you done re-created mah entire childhood here - the farm, the barn, the fields, everythin' down to the blades of grass 'cept for the animals, ah reck'n.
Oh, the animals are accounted for.
So, am ah right? Am ah dead? Is this Heaven?
Let's assume for the moment, Tommy, that you are dead, that Jenny did catch you behind the shed in back of the north-end bar you hung out at, and she did shoot you with her father's shotgun. Both barrels.
Wha...?
Then the question would remain, why do you believe you'd be going to Heaven when you died?
She done shot me? Shot me dead?
Answer my question, Tommy. Why would you go to Heaven?
Wail, why wouldn't ah? Ah was a good person! An' good people go to Heaven when they die!
No, Tommy, they don't. Forgiven people go to Heaven. NO person is truly good, not one, and you are hardly a "good" person by anyone's standards, Tommy, let alone His.
Whaddya mean? I'm a great person by G... by Guh... whah cain't ah say His Na....
You're not in Heaven, Tommy. Take a good look around.
It's the farm, I know it! And there's Papa's ol' farmhand! Comin' this way with all the carvin' gear! Wait, but there ain't no pigs in here...what's he gonna...
And then he saw himself reflected in the puddle, and knew the butcher was coming for him.
And if this really is Hell, he'd have to relive that swine butcher's work over...and over...and over...
☀
Wake up, Dick. Dick? Dick, wake up!
Mmmm, that's what I keep askin' it, but it doesn't seem to respond to me. And you're not nearly female enough to get it to wake up for you, Mister.
That's Master, please.
Mister, Master, whatever I can muster, Mister Master. Hey, if I mess'd-her up, can I keep her?
Enough with the crude vulgarity, please.
What? If I can't be crude and vulgar, what am I going to do with my life?
Well, it's too later for that, Dick, because now your life has ended.
Hey, it's never too late for this dick, Dick, Master. Whatever. (Pause.) Wait a minute. You're serious. You're saying - I'm really dead?
Yes. You are really dead.
Aaaah, Hail Mah....maaaaaare... aw,. whatever. Said it enough over the years.
Said what, Dick?
Repented for my foul mouth, of course! I can't go around swearing and making dirty jokes all the time without asking forgiveness, now, can I?
I don't know. Can you?
Laughter from the deceased. Well, 'course, I can't, "Master" - don't "bait" me, Master! Heh-heh... No, that's how I get away with all my foul mouthed ways, you see? I'm constantly repenting of my speech and jokes and the like. Hey, being in this joint's living proof that it works, so don't be telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing!
I wouldn't call it "living" proof, but I see where you're going with this conversation. The fact that there's a luxurious bedroom here, plush carpets, mirror on the ceiling, hot tub in the corner, all of that tells you that you're, what, in Heaven?
Well, yeah! What else should it tell me, "Master"? Apparently, even Heaven wants the D! Hey, bring on them angel babes, G... Gah... G.... hey, that's weird.
What is, Dick?
Well, I'm not sayin' it's necessary, but I don't seem to be able to say the Name of G....Gah,... yeah, you know Who I mean. Hey! "Master!" Are you really Hi... Hi.. you know?
Am I God? Is that what you dare to ask? No - no, I'm afraid that ship has sailed, young man. I'm just a lowly outcast, welcoming guests who come my direction as best I can. Make them comfortable, give them a new home, something to occupy their time. And given your predilection for double entendres and dirty jokes, Dick, I think this might be a great accommodation for a man of your discerning tastes.
Whuh... uh, what do you mean, Mister Master sir?
Oh, simply that "the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell." James 3:6, you know. Your tongue is what brought you here, Dicky old boy!
But...but I apologized! Every blasted time!
Yes. but that's not repenting. Repenting means changing your ways. Grace is no "get out of jail free" card, Dicky. It's a cushion when you fall. But If you keep climbing back into the burning building expecting the firemen to catch you every time you jump, eventually, the firemen tire of saving you. Even God gives up after a while if you refuse to change. And guess what?
H...h...
Gave up, because you never tried. Welcome to Hell, Dicky-boy. Bring in the "angel-babes", please...
Holy S...those ain't no angels...and they sure ain't no babes. Dicky boy, you've met your match...it's your turn in the barrel this time.
I wouldn't call it "living" proof, but I see where you're going with this conversation. The fact that there's a luxurious bedroom here, plush carpets, mirror on the ceiling, hot tub in the corner, all of that tells you that you're, what, in Heaven?
Well, yeah! What else should it tell me, "Master"? Apparently, even Heaven wants the D! Hey, bring on them angel babes, G... Gah... G.... hey, that's weird.
What is, Dick?
Well, I'm not sayin' it's necessary, but I don't seem to be able to say the Name of G....Gah,... yeah, you know Who I mean. Hey! "Master!" Are you really Hi... Hi.. you know?
Am I God? Is that what you dare to ask? No - no, I'm afraid that ship has sailed, young man. I'm just a lowly outcast, welcoming guests who come my direction as best I can. Make them comfortable, give them a new home, something to occupy their time. And given your predilection for double entendres and dirty jokes, Dick, I think this might be a great accommodation for a man of your discerning tastes.
Whuh... uh, what do you mean, Mister Master sir?
Oh, simply that "the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell." James 3:6, you know. Your tongue is what brought you here, Dicky old boy!
But...but I apologized! Every blasted time!
Yes. but that's not repenting. Repenting means changing your ways. Grace is no "get out of jail free" card, Dicky. It's a cushion when you fall. But If you keep climbing back into the burning building expecting the firemen to catch you every time you jump, eventually, the firemen tire of saving you. Even God gives up after a while if you refuse to change. And guess what?
H...h...
Gave up, because you never tried. Welcome to Hell, Dicky-boy. Bring in the "angel-babes", please...
Holy S...those ain't no angels...and they sure ain't no babes. Dicky boy, you've met your match...it's your turn in the barrel this time.
☀
Howard, you old scamp, where have you found yourself now? Did you sweet talk your way into the penthouse suite while doing lines or something? This place is awesome!
Ah, Harold. Welcome home.
Harold? I thought I was going by "Howard" since the last move. I mean, Harold's my real name, and I can't be using that one very often, know what I mean?
Um, yes? To whom are you speaking, good sir?
Come, Harold Varney. No reason to act around us, now, is there? After all, Harold - you're dead.
I'm what?
Dead, sir. Dead.
Dead?
Yes, sir. Now, given all the aliases you had while you were living...
Hey, now! "Alias" is such a harsh word. I simply had different, eh, personalities depending on whom I was dealing with! I always treated them fairly - nobody ever got hurt, now, did they?
You had very little control over who got hurt, Harold. You only had control of your lies. Your many, many, many lies.
Oh, come on, mister, eh....
Call me The Master, please.
"The Master"...and you criticize my aliases! All right, Master, go ahead, since obviously I'm in Heaven here, how many lies did I tell? A few dozen, perhaps? A hundred?
Even a few dozen would be too many were you not saved, which you were. But as you claimed to be a Christian...
Baptized at birth, baby! My get-out-of-jail-free card! God forgives a sinner!
Perhaps a sinner who makes an attempt to stop sinning. You, however, took it as a license to ill. To sin, to lie incessantly in order to win the favor of whomever you were with at the time.
So, sue me. I'll tie you up in court so long...
There are no courts here. There is only God. And He has already convicted you. And, by the way, that list of lies is longer than one hundred. Would you like to know how many there were?
Er, ah, sure. How many?
Let's find out, Harold. Through that door, please.
What's through that door? What's this "Master's" angle, anyway?
Just, what, open the door?
Open the door, please, Harold, and step inside.
Okay... Hey! There's nothing IN here!
(The door slams behind Harold. Soon, the voices start: all the voices of Harold - nee Howard - nee Hiram - nee Hubert - and several other names he's used over his seventy years of life. All his voice, repeating all his lies. All 613, 247 of them, on a continuous loop, playing in the dark, forever... forever...)
Yes, sir. Now, given all the aliases you had while you were living...
Hey, now! "Alias" is such a harsh word. I simply had different, eh, personalities depending on whom I was dealing with! I always treated them fairly - nobody ever got hurt, now, did they?
You had very little control over who got hurt, Harold. You only had control of your lies. Your many, many, many lies.
Oh, come on, mister, eh....
Call me The Master, please.
"The Master"...and you criticize my aliases! All right, Master, go ahead, since obviously I'm in Heaven here, how many lies did I tell? A few dozen, perhaps? A hundred?
Even a few dozen would be too many were you not saved, which you were. But as you claimed to be a Christian...
Baptized at birth, baby! My get-out-of-jail-free card! God forgives a sinner!
Perhaps a sinner who makes an attempt to stop sinning. You, however, took it as a license to ill. To sin, to lie incessantly in order to win the favor of whomever you were with at the time.
So, sue me. I'll tie you up in court so long...
There are no courts here. There is only God. And He has already convicted you. And, by the way, that list of lies is longer than one hundred. Would you like to know how many there were?
Er, ah, sure. How many?
Let's find out, Harold. Through that door, please.
What's through that door? What's this "Master's" angle, anyway?
Just, what, open the door?
Open the door, please, Harold, and step inside.
Okay... Hey! There's nothing IN here!
(The door slams behind Harold. Soon, the voices start: all the voices of Harold - nee Howard - nee Hiram - nee Hubert - and several other names he's used over his seventy years of life. All his voice, repeating all his lies. All 613, 247 of them, on a continuous loop, playing in the dark, forever... forever...)
☀
Tom? Dick? Harry? WAKE UP!!!!
The world slowly stopped spinning, and the man sat up in his bed, slowly parsing his waking reality from the apparently-a-dream he was emerging from.
Are you all right, honey?
Darling? Where's the pool table I was just at?
Pool table? Honey, you've been asleep since we came to bed. You were screaming in your sleep! Are you alright?
In my....in my sleep? It was a dream?
Guess it was a bad one, too. Are you alright?
I am now.
(Wow. It was just a dream. More than a dream, even. It was a warning to fix my life while I still have time... Thank you, God. Or Satan. Or - well, whomever.)
In my....in my sleep? It was a dream?
Guess it was a bad one, too. Are you alright?
I am now.
(Wow. It was just a dream. More than a dream, even. It was a warning to fix my life while I still have time... Thank you, God. Or Satan. Or - well, whomever.)
☀
Hey there, Gabriel - how are you? What've you been up to, dressed up like that?
Oh, just doing the Lord's work, Raphael. Saving souls that needed saving.
Oh, yes? Dressed like that? What are you doing, hosting a game show?
I suppose you could say that. "This is your life!" or something like that. Now, if you'll excuse me, friend, I need to get the smell of brimstone off my clothing....
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