A guy arrives at the pearly gates, waiting to be admitted. 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
"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."