Verrily, I was hit by the Town and Country bus serving our local area. Before the paramedics could arrive I was summoned to His Kingdom in the sky, where I was greeted by our Lord.
"Name?" Spake He, in bounding tones.
"Terry" Spake I, after which I quoted my staff number.
"Verrily, you are individuals in the Kingdom of Heaven, not merely seen as numbers" Advised our Lord, before he rolleth his eyes.
"Am I to be taken in?" Enquired I with much concern.
"Pardon?" Spake our Lord, genuinely requesting my repeating of the question.
"Have I done thy deeds worthy of an entrance to your pad?" Paraphrased I with increasing anticipation.
"Please furnish me with said deeds, humble follower" replied Our Lord, leading me on but a little for he had heard this much before.
"That stuff in the Bible, don't do stuff and stuff" stumbled I, trying to recall the few stories I had entrusted to memory as a child. "Don't kill and maim and that" I continued.
"Stop, my child" laughed The Big Man, knowing that I was as naive as he perceived me humble, naive being a polite way of him thinking me stupid.
Then it hit me harder than the original transport facility; I had become wealthy due to my unfortunate purchase of a lottery ticket.
"Does it not say" I pressed, "That it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to make his way into Heaven?"
The Lord squinted unto my face. "Say again?"
"In the Bible..." I continued, his face finally showing some recognition.
"Ah, that again" spake Dad, Son and Holy Buttered Toast. "It's open to interpretation. Does it not say in that same text that fish must be dined upon each Friday?"
"I'll be honest" replied I, "I hadn't got to that part yet."
"For what reason should I ask you all to dine upon fish every Friday? It makes as much sense as telling you to put your rubbish out on a Wednesday" chuckled The Almighty.
"Yay, the binmen come only on a Wednesday" Retorted I, wondering if he would put a slap across my face for such a suggestion.
"That makes sense" He said unto me, making a note in his binder.
Alas, my conversation with the Lord was brought to an end by the paramedics, keen as they were to add another notch on their proverbial bedposts.
"That's put another notch on our bedposts" Suggested they, looking uncomfortably towards each other before encompassing the silence having missed the essential detail of 'proverbial'. I was alive once more.
Verrily my questions on gaining entrance to Heaven on High remain unanswered, though I will be interpreting the Holy Text a little differently from now on.