Going to Heaven. Humor. (standard:humor, 1829 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jun 30 2020	Views/Reads: 1272/934	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Alonzo and Antonio met at the Free Clinic in Rome. They had both been let out of prison due to terminal cancer. The Italian prison system didn't want the expense of treating them, passing them off onto other social services.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“Guess she don't want none,” Antonio whispered. 

They finally found a priest sitting behind the podium, reading a Bible.
“Hey. You the boss around here?” Antonio called out, not bothering to 
whisper. "We gotta talk to the boss about something important.” 

The angry priest put a finger to his lips and motioned them over. 

“Father Jamison is in his office with the bishop,” the priest whispered.
“Maybe I can help you?” 

“Yeah? Well, we both of us have the big ‘C' and are goin' to die. We
want to know how to get into heaven.” Alonzo was better at whispering. 

“I'm sure that if you've lived a good life and believe in the Lord, you
will get there, my son.” 

“Actually, we both been very bad,” Alonzo admitted. “We've robbed,
whored around a lot, and even killed people.” He paused a moment, 
thinking, then continued, “On the good side, we do believe in God and 
heaven, though.” He finished with a grin. 

“I have time to hear your confession, if you so desire.” The priest put
down down his Bible and stood. 

“Yeah, okay. I can do that,” Antonio told him, “I did it once, when I
was a kid.” 

“I never did that stuff before,” from Alonzo, “my family was baptist, or
something. I don't remember anymore.” 

The priest sighed at Alonzo and led the pair over to a row of doors. He
motioned Antonio into one section and went in an adjoining door 
himself. 

A little later, a pale-looking priest came out and leaned against the
door, hacking up his lunch. He gave Alonzo a funny look, as though he 
was the one that was sick. Antonio looked all right as he exited with a 
grin. “It felt good to get all that stuff off my chest and brag a 
little.” 

“Well, do we go to heaven, or not?” Alonzo was impatient with all the
crap. After all, he hadn't had a chance to tell his story. Maybe 
Baptists had to see another guy, or use another room or something, he 
thought. 

“Mr. Antonio told me he couldn't change his ways. Since I can't help
you, sir,” the priest admitted, “I don't know what to tell you, except 
to pray. I'll say my own prayer for your souls -- if that will do any 
good.” 

“Hey then, fuck you, Jack. Where did you say the boss was?” It had been
fun talking through that little screen, but he had to have a promise of 
heaven before he left. No more of this bull. 

“Father Jamison is busy right now. I can ask him to see you when he
finishes his talk with the bishop. Please wait out front. I'll let you 
know if he has the time.” 

Alonso was also tired of all the talking. He grabbed the priest by the
collar and jerked him forward, off his priestly feet. 

“I got a better idea.” He looked the priest in the eye, noses almost
rubbing. “You take us to him right now, without any more bullcrap.” 

The priest seemed to lose stature. When released, he led the pair to a
door in the rear. Without a word the two shoved the priest through and 
into a small room. 

Inside, there were two men in business suits sitting in stuffed chairs
with drinks in their hands. The men stopped talking and stared, in 
silence, at the three interlopers. 

“I'm sorry, father. These men forced me, sirs.” 

The priest was in tears, but the other man only stared at the uninvited
guests. 

“That's all right, Father Jacobs,” one of the suits told him. “And what
can I do for you gentlemen, that's so important you couldn't wait?” 

“We got us a big problem, father, or whatever. We're dying and need to
get to heaven when we do. This guy was just giving us a lot'ta 
bullshit,” Alonzo told him. 

“That will be all, Father Jacobs,” Father Jamison told the priest, with
a wink. “You may go now. Thanks for bringing this to my attention. I'll 
handle it.” Another wink. 

The priest left, quickly, backing out without taking his eyes off the
intruders. He closed the door behind himself. 

Turning back to the two ex-cons, the father introduced Bishop Adams and
asked again, “And what can I do for you two?” 

They explained their problem to Father Jamison and the bishop. The
father sat in his chair, head laid-back, and thought about what to tell 
them. Bishop Adams, however, had no problem telling them HIS thoughts. 

“I would say, off hand, that you have very little chance. You would have
to change your attitudes, and that doesn't seem likely.” He stood up 
and looked Antonio in the eye. “Now I would strongly suggest that you 
get your sorry unrepentant asses the hell out of here.” 

About that time, Alonzo, standing near the door, heard a commotion
outside. It sounded like whispering and moving around out there. 

“Antonio, I think the cops are outside. Hurry up. We gotta finish up and
get the fuck out of here.” 

“Not until these guys promise us we'll get to heaven.” Antonio turned to
the bishop and, grabbing him by the left ear, bent his head forward. 
“You gonna do that, buddy?  Or would you rather lose an ear?” 

“Yes, yes ... alright. You can go to heaven,” Father Jamison screamed.
“Just let go of Bishop Adams.” 

“You promise?” 

“He's right, we promise.” The bishop reached for his ear. “We promise
that you'll go to heaven when you die.” 

“Make them put it in writing, Antonio.” Alonzo was holding his back to
the door, expecting it to be kicked in at any moment. “Hurry up.” 

“You heard him. Write it down, and hurry up.” Antonio released Bishop
Adams and shoved him back into his chair. “Two copies, hear?” The 
bishop rubbed his sore ear and glared at the pair. 

Father Jamison sighed and then wrote it all out on blank pieces of
paper. He showed them to Antonio, who motioned him back to the desk. 

“Now we all have to sign. You two first.” The two theologians hurriedly
signed the papers. Antonio then added his ‘X' and motioned Alonzo over. 


As Alonzo finished signing his name, the door exploded inward. The room
was suddenly filled with police. They quickly handcuffed the pair of 
hoods and took them away. 

That created a dilemma for the authorities. They were again stuck with
medical expenses for the pair of felons. The press also grabbed the 
story and ran it on the front page, with a photo of a signed contract. 
As for Antonio and Alonzo, they were happy in going home to prison to 
spend their last few months with their friends. 

Sadly, Antonio was the first to die of cancer. When the priest came to
give him his last rites, he waved his contract. 

“I don't need none of those confessions, no more. See,” he told the
priest, “I have a free pass.” 

*** 

Alonzo woke to find himself sitting on a bench in a long line of others,
all waiting to see St. Peter.  Time had no meaning for the souls. 
Eventually he reached a plain wooden table where an angel was checking 
names off a long list. 

“Oh, yes. I see your name, Alonzo,” he was told. A heavenly worker came
over. “Go along with this angel. She'll issue you your supplies.” 

Happily, Alonzo followed the angel through a doorway in the cloud. They
went to a room where he was handed the items he would need in Heaven. 
He was given his wings, golden slippers, and cleaning supplies. 

You see, he'll be on probation for the next few hundred-thousand years.
Somebody has to clean the heavenly toilets. 

The end.


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