12 1/2 Angels
Mario Flagstaff was dead. No one, not even his best friend, Harold, could have ever predicted that the multi-billionaire would meet his maker by choking on a gouda-stuffed olive. Non-believers snickered, thinking it to be a hoax – Mario pulling one of his funnies – though his jokes were never a laugh. No one believed that Mario, a man so full of life and his own big ego, would ever die.
After his death he made the long climb, up the staircase to heaven, taking his time, certain that the pearly gates would be swinging wildly, welcoming him into heaven. But, shockingly, the gates were locked up tight and Mario saw no way of getting through to the other side. Somewhat befuddled, he looked around and realized that he was not the only soul on the wrong side of the gate. Mario was in purgatory – limbo – awaiting Judgement Day. Finally, Mario sat before Archangel Jeremiel and was given a task to perform. Mario snickered and thought, ‘How difficult could a little task be? And if the job should become too bothersome I will simply hire it out – employ someone to take care of it.’ Mario came from dirt poor, had amassed immense wealth, and liked to be in charge. He knew how to delegate.