When I arrived in Hell I expected brimstone, fire and anguish. Well, that was all there in ready supply, but no one really ever bothered with it. Instead we all sit around waiting for the next delivery of half-used hand-me-downs from the Saints for Sinners program. Turns out all those goody goody charity types don’t really change when they get up there.

So about twice a week, they come down here in their majestic carriages with bags and bags of recycled, reclaimed, refurbished heaven trash. It’s not that bad, really, they live in splendor so their trash is literally our treasure. But they never let you forget that they pity you. That you depend on them. That no matter what you do, you can’t earn any of the good that comes your way.

What a hell.