In Heaven We Trust
Setting: Another place, undefined
(lights up, Jenkins sitting on the stage, looking around)
Jenkins: Where am I?
Voice: Hello, Jenkins.
J: Who are you?
V: Your guide.
J: Where am I?
V: More or less.
J: Wait... what? I'm... I'm dead!?
V: Shhh-shhh-shhh.... there, there, we don't need to raise voices here.
J: But... I'm dead?
V: I didn't say that.
J: Then why am I in heaven?
V: Ummm... okay... alright, you got me... yes, you're dead.
J: I... I don't understand!
V: Nothing to understand, Jenkins. You were alive; now you're not. Poof! Heaven for you.
J: I mean, how? How did I die?
V: No idea. Not what I like to focus on.
J: I want to focus on it!
V: But, you're here. Why look back? You can't change the past.
J: I want to know! What happened.
V: Alright, alright, but you're going to kick yourself.
J: What!? Tell me!
V: Well, you know how you like to sky dive?
J: Yeah, of course.
V: Yeah... see...
J: My chute didn't open! Damn... I never thought that would ever ...
V: Your chute opened, Jenkins.
J: It did?
V: Yeah. But, the wind was a little unpredictable, a sudden front moving in.
J: O... kay.
V: Well, you made it most of the way down, until you ran into the angry end of the Channel 22 WeatherMax StormTracker Chopper Team.
J: What?! I got... a helicopter...?
V: Fffttt! You caught 22! Like paper doll versus lawnmower.
J: Man! I... I don't remember a thing.
V: That's probably for the better.
J: How come I'm so... I mean, how come I'm not, you know...
V: Ground chuck?
J: Yeah. That.
V: Oh, you've been through make-up and wardrobe. They can do anything in those departments.
J: Make-up and wardrobe?
V: Pure brilliance... they made Nixon look barely surly again! That's how good they are.
J: But... I... I don't really believe in heaven.
V: Hey now! Watch yourself! Boss man might be listening!
V: God? No. Paul. Paul Orton, he's the supervisor.
V: Yeah, good guy, but he get's a little testy with people questioning heaven's existence. He's put a ton of time into this place.
J: But, why would I be in heaven, if I don't believe in it.
V: Well, to be perfectly honest, it's because we get paid on a per resident basis.
V: Sure, the big man pays us on daily intakes and weekly and monthly inventory reconciliations.
J: The big man? Paul?
V: What? No, God. God's the big man; he pays Paul. Paul pays his employees. Like me.
J: Listen, I don't know what's going on here, but I already told you, I don't believe in heaven.
V: Fine! Fine... Relax.
J: Don't you have to let me go or something?
V: Let me level with you, the only things we have to do are stipulated in the yearly contract and that was just renewed last month.
J: What contract?
V: The contract between God and us: HeavenCorp.
V: The real heaven's full, has been for centuries. Paul made a business deal with God: provide permanent storage for the souls and their vessels, and God will reimburse on a per resident basis. Hence, HeavenCorp was born.
J: Heaven is a frickin' outsourcing company?
V: Corporation, providing all your afterlife services. (singing as if a tag from a radio jingle) "Hevvv-ennn-corrrr"
J: Jesus Christ!
V: He's not around right now, but he's calling BINGO next Wednesday. Get there early!
J: So, I'm dead, and my soul is here in a repaired body, living out eternity in some corporate-planned afterlife community?
V: You got it. But hey, what other heaven is going to give you free golf on Sundays after 4?
J: I don't want to golf! I want to live!
V: Weird, you're one of the first white guys to say that.
J: Just get me outta here!
V: Where to?
J: How about the real heaven?
V: It's full, and you don't believe in it anyway.
J: Back to Earth then.
V: Actually, you're still on Earth.
V: You didn't think we just float around in the sky, did you? Come on.
J: Where are we?
V: Not important, and you'll never find out.
J: Yes, I will!
V: You'll be so happy and satisfied with all HeavenCorp has to offer today's busy and active dead citizens, that you won't have time to think of escaping.
J: This is horrible; you can't let them do this to me!
V: Hey, now. I can't let them not do it to you. You're going to love it here, Jenkins. So much to do! You do play Bridge, right?
J: Help! Someone help!
V: Well, we'll find something...
(lights fade on Jenkins screaming for help)