3 Days in Heaven
You spend your whole life following the Bible, condemning homosexuals and abortion and alcohol and swearing and pagans and masturbation and happiness, and then you die. When you resume consciousness, you are in Heaven. But so are the Hendersons, who only go to church once a year for Easter. And the Donovans, who let their children dye their hair green and have only been to church a dozen times. They claim to be "agnoistic" or some New Age bullshit.
"This isn't fair," you say. "I gave my entire life serving the Lord," making sure everyone can hear that you are capitalizing Lord, even in speech, "and these half-hearted heathens get to Experience the Eternal Life of Heaven just as much?" You make sure you get in all the other capital letters, too, for good measure.
On the first day, you take your time to enjoy the wonders of Heaven. You come across a tiki bar made of bamboo among the fields of clouds and the bartender is wearing nothing but a vest and bowtie. He is selling piña coladas for smiles. You ask for a virgin piña coladas but he tells you that they don't make those in Heaven. At first you are reluctant, but then you trust that God wouldn't tempt you in Heaven. However, after your first sip, you begin to worry and put down the drink. You curtly thank the man and head off to the cafeteria. There, you find a few others to eat lunch and compare your numbers: hours spent volunteering at the church, number of heathens converted, dishes contributed to church potlucks, percent of salary donated to the church. You have the highest in every category by far.
On the second day, you walk to the beach, into an alpine meadow, across the desert, and through salt flats, ice fields, farmland, and rain forests. That night, you watch the Aurora Borealis after the most brilliant sunset you've ever seen. Or maybe it's the Aurora Australis. You're not quite sure because you don't know if Heaven has North and South.
On the third day, you schedule a meeting with God. He's pretty chill. He tells you that you should have finished the piña colada. Then he tells you that you can do whatever, really. Skateboarding or making some ceramic bowls or reading comic books; it's up to you. So you do all of those things and enjoy yourself.
At the end of the third day, you are very happy and content and are looking forward to an eternity in this place. You're still pretty bitter that almost everyone gets in and a little upset that God is telling you that everyone is equal and deserves to be loved, but figure you'll convince him otherwise in the morning. And then everything around you melts away.
Panicking, you look around a see a man wearing a long coat standing a few feet away. You ask him what's going on and he tells you that you are only allowed in Heaven for three days. Then they have to move you somewhere or else things would get too crowded. You spend the rest of eternity in Limbo--or some place like it--and think back to your boring life and the three days it led up to. Three magnificent days filled with freedom and fun which you will never again get to experience.