So, I took the possibly ill-advised action of jumping off a bridge.
In retrospect, this was not the greatest idea.
For one thing, it broke some bones. That might have been the end of it, but those bones then pierced some of my more precious organs (most importantly, my gall bladder) and my skin, and this led to a lot of gasping and bleeding and flopping about until I died around 3 minutes later.
Buyer's remorse X 1000.
When I woke up I was in a poorly lit room. A familar face stepped from the gloom and into my line of sight.
"Sup, Satan?" I asked.
"Same shit, different day. Oh, and you're dead."
"Oh," I said. It kind of hadn't sunk in yet. "Am I in heaven?"
Hitler stepped out of the shadows - his cold steely eyes met my own, and he opened his mouth to answer:
Crap, I was in Hell.
I got pretty used to Hell after a while... Sure, the genitalia disfigurement and miscallenous torture routines were, at best, crotch-spearingly painful, but on the other hand, all my favourite people were here!
Keith Moon: Assassinated Pope John Paul I.
Chuck Berry: Beat a mime to death with his guitar.
Ronnie James Dio: Stole a $20 note from an unconscious priest.
We all had a great time, and I was sad when I had to leave, but I was the Messiah, and my place was not in Hell with these SUCKERS! LATER, ASSHOLES!
To cut a long story short, I rose again after around half a week.
Everyone was really surprised to see me up and about.
"Dude, I thought you were dead," said SteveSteve, "We buried you and everything."
"I wrote you a poem, man," said Vegie, "about how you were such a great person and how I really valued our friendship."
"And also about how you were a fag and you died of aids, ala Derryn Hinch," added SteveSteve.
"Oh yeah," said Vegie, "I forgot about that. I am the all-new Human Headline. Look, I have a nametag!"
And he did... it was even laminated!
"Wow, it's laminated!" I exclaimed with a little squeal and perhaps a small jump in the air, so impressed was I.
"Thanks, hombre," he replied, "I got it done at that laminating place."
"So, Cam," Steve brought us back to the topic at hand (deftly!), "You're alive again."
"Oh, I'm so alive. Totally resurrected, guys! Hell was a blast, but you know how these things are."
"No, not really," said Veg.
"Not as such, no," was Steve's answer. Note that it is slightly different from Vegie's answer.... this made me a little suspicious. Could it be... no... not these two dunderheads... surely... surely not... it couldn't have been them who orchestrated this whole sordid mess...
"Ah, but it was, Cameron!" shouted SteveSteve triumphantly.
"That's right," Vegie continued, "we can read your thoughts!"
Suddenly they both burst out laughing. I had been thinking of a particularly humourous Dilbert.
"Ahahahaha," chortled Steve, "Scott Adams takes everyday office situations and totally subverts their paradigms!"
"I agree," guffawed Vegie.
"You know what," I suggested, "I think everything is going to be fine."