Where do You Go When You Die?
The fantasies of a young boy.
When you die you go to hell.
It’s red and it’s rocky and all the water’s made of boiling blood and magma and the sun’s a giant screaming face and the moon’s always cracked into a crescent.
There’s a bunch of monsters there, too. Dragons fly around and blow giant blasts of screaming fire out their mouth at hordes of zombies. And giant demon bats are hunted down by naked chicks with bat wings using massive swords. Every cow there’s a Minotaur, every chicken’s a Basilisk and every sheep there’s got 6 eyes and shit.
But hell’s not that bad. There’s some pretty fucking bad dudes down there. Merlin, King Arthur, John Brown, Marsha Johnson, Emma Goldman and Cain are all there and they’re partying down in huge ass mead halls where they can eat all the Junk Food and Dr Pepper and Beer they want.
But hells full of bad dudes too. Hitler, Nero and Dracula are all there whining and bitching about death and are throwing Nazi Zombies and Roman DeathMechs at the mead halls of the awesome, but that’s where the fun comes in.
Every morning you get to wake up and party, and in the afternoon you get to punch Nazis and then party, and every night you get the best sleep after partying just to keep punching Nazis again.
All the battle hymns are done by Freddie Mercury and Mark Shelton and all the war-sagas are written by Robert E. Howard and all the swords are made by Miyamoto Musashi and all the paintings are made by DaVinci and shit. It’s awesome
Yeah, that’s where I wanna go when I die.