Well, I definitely know I'm not in Heaven right now. I don't think they let people as flamboyant as me in. Not to mention all the sins committed (most of it relating to nose picking), all the pork eaten, and my failure to memorize the genealogy of crusty old sheep herders. I could have made some desperate attempt to repent today, but unfortunately I spent all my time attending various church services and stealing money out of the collection plates of each (PROTIP: Sit near the back, with at least two people between you and the ends of the pews).
So, therefore, I must be in Hell. It's kind of like I expected it to be (that is, like Earth), except that it has slightly more mild discomforts. Like, there's this annoying clammy taste in my mouth, and my pants have a new hole in one of the legs. I'm guessing that the Prince of Darkness is also the Master of Trivial and Slightly Awkward Trials.
Oh, yes, and as I type this I am trapped underneath an intolerably smarmy, obese, immobile, and sweaty man, who continues to prattle on why Mike Huckabee is a viable Republican presidential nominee. Said fat man is immersed within a large depression filled to the brim with honey. And the green wisp theme from Sonic Colors is playing over and over and over and over...