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Welcome To Paradise Mr Jones. |
| Written by Robert Black | |
| Monday, 05 November 2007 | |
“Welcome to Paradise International© Mr Jones,” said the blonde angel behind the large modern desk. “We are so glad to have you here, now if you will please fill in this form we can go on right ahead and check you in!” “I think I have already filled in that form at the gates, Mrs…?”
“Its Miss, Miss Roberts but you can call me Cathy, everyone calls me Cathy here,” she said with an angelic smile, after all she is an angel. “Yes, um, I believe Cathy I have already filled in that form at the gates,” I said. “I think you filled in form B1-12 at the gates, that’s different, this is form A13, it’s required for processing, and it shouldn’t take more than a minute Mr Jones,” she said, and handed me a pen. “I see, no problem, just making sure Cathy, I wouldn’t want to fill in a form twice and make the employees’ lives any harder now,” I said with a grin. “Then the people at processing have to file me twice and- no problem just making sure.” “That’s very considered of you Mr Jones; I see now why you have been chosen by the management, congratulations once again Mr Jones,” she said. “Thank you, I am glad to be here,” I said and continued filling in form A13. Although, Cathy wasn’t entirely honest I thought. Filling in form A13 took more than one minute, I reckon it had taken me about five minutes to complete it. But, I didn’t complain, and why should I? I was grateful to have been accepted in “Here you are Cathy,” I said with a smile, “form A13 is now complete.” “You are sweet Mr Jones. You can take a sit now, there at the lobby,” she said, pointing towards the far end of the room where there was a set of blue velvet sofas. “Err, aren’t we done yet? I mean I filled in the form and everything, what’s the procedure now?” I asked. “You are almost finished Mr Jones, in a few minutes they will call you in, so if you will be kind enough to take a sit-“ “Call me in were?” I interrupted. “For your interview with Mr Clark,” she said. “Mr Clark?” I asked. “Mr Clark is our ‘new members’ supervisor,” she replied. “I see, well, in that case I better take a sit, a few minutes right?” “That’s right Mr Jones.” I walked a few steps over to the lobby area. The whole quarter was very clean and spacious. Between the modern couches there were small neat tables stacked with magazines and other reading material. The whole lobby area was surrounded by large pot plants of exotic varieties, and just behind the sofas were glass walls letting in the sun. Over the speakers, which must have been hidden in the pot plants I concluded, played relaxing instrumental contemporary music. There was a light, manufactured, breeze coming out of the air-conditioning system. All in all a very relaxed, modern, and clean atmosphere I thought. I took a sit next to a large man with round spectacles and a baseball cup. There were a few others sitting around, some reading magazines and others just sitting there silently, waiting like me to be called in Mr Clarks office. “Hey there buddy, how you doing? Name is Bob,” said the large man. “Well, thanks. I am John, John Jones,” I said, and shook his hand which seemed to have been out there in front of me for a while now. “John, nice to be here isn’t it, I sure am happy I’ll tell you that much. Of course I knew it all along, told folks all the time. Sure did.
“Tell you the truth Bob, between you and me,” I said, “I didn’t expect to make it here but hey… I am not complaining. Have you been waiting long now?”
“Yeah, all my life, been waiting. Sure did,” he said with a smile. The kind of smile you get when you have finally arrived at your hotel room in a strange country after a long journey through rough and dirty roads.
“No, I mean here, now, in the lobby have you been waiting a long time?”
“I guess it’s been an hour now,” he said.
“An hour, really?”
“More or less,” said Bob.
“Oh God, I hate waiting, damn it, and you know what man, that girl said it was only going to take a few minutes,” I said and crossed my arms and tried to make myself comfy for the long wait, but I think those couches weren’t designed for comfort, no matter how hard I tried.
“You know John,” whispered Bob, “you aren’t supposed to say that.”
“What?” I asked.
“What you said, it’s not allowed. Taking the lords name in vain and cursing, it’s not allowed, rule number fourteen and seventeen if I recollect,” he said, and gave me something similar to a brochure.
“What’s this Bob?” I asked.
“The rules are in there, well the main ones I think, and once you check in they give you a file with all the rules and regulations, Cathy told me.”
Paradise International© Prospectus: a colorful brochure filled with pictures of smiling couples walking hand by hand and happy children playing in the background. Filled with catchy slogans such as ‘It is our belief that a clean and organized environment makes for happy souls’… ‘We take your wellbeing here in There was even a mission statement by Chief Manager ‘Paul’ and several testimonials by satisfied souls, one in particular caught my eye by a certain Julie (‘departed’ from London, UK): ‘At first I was not sure if paradise was the right choice for me, I heard the rumors, that other companies offer more adventure and fun, but after three years in paradise I am convinced this is the best place to spend eternity! I would definitely recommend it to everyone.’
And, flicking through the colorful booklet, I came upon page five, with the list of the ‘basic rules’ of Paradise, ‘To make your experience in
“Well, that’s me, see you later buddy,” Bob said.
“Huh?”
“They called my name, am going in now; I’ll see you on the other side buddy,” he explained and got up.
“Okay Bob, good luck,” I said and went back to my reading.
It seemed like a well organized club this Paradise, at least from what I could see from the ‘official brochure’, and I thought what a welcomed change that would be, from my unorganized ‘life’ on Earth.
“Is this sit taken?” she asked.
“No. Bob was sitting here but he was called in, so I guess its okay,” I replied.
“Thanks,” she said. “I am Olivia, and you are?”
“John Jones.”
“Okay Johnny boy, you don’t mind do you? Of course you don’t.”
“Mind what Olivia?” I asked.
“Calling you Johnny,” she said, with a slight tilt of her tiny head. Everything on her was tiny I thought. Tiny head, tiny feet, tiny hands, tiny breasts (from what I could tell from my angle and the way the fabric of her dress dropped flat on her chest) but I didn’t hold that against her. But, I wished I could.
“Well, Olivia. I guess I don’t,” I said. She could call me John, Johnny, or Joseph Stalin if she wanted, it didn’t make any difference to me.
“Oh, I am dieing Johnny! Aren’t you?”
“I am already dead. And, Olivia, so are you.”
“I am dieing for a smoke Johnny boy, for a smoke,” she elaborated, with the help of a smoking gesture using her fingers and lips.
“I’ve given it up some time ago,” I said.
“Really?”
“Yeah, three years now, but if I knew I only had three years left I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“Did you gain weight?” she inquired.
“I think a couple of pounds.”
“See, that’s why I don’t quit. Eliza, she quit and gained-“
“Eliza?” I interrupted.
“My roommate Eliza, quite gal, I think she is a teacher or something. Anyway, she gave it up, and she gained like three pounds, oh my God! She looked like freaking Shrek!”
“How did she look like before?” I asked.
“Like Shrek, but you know, not that much. Three pounds makes a huge difference, especially when you put it all in the face,” she said, “that’s why I am not giving it up.”
“Hmm, I guess you are in for a surprise then,” I said grinning.
“What?”
“Rule number twenty-two: no smoking,” I whispered for effect, and I wasn’t disappointed, the look on Olivia’s face was worth a million dollars.
“What the hell, rule, what rule?”
“Look. Here. The rules; Read them because you have been breaking a few already. Read,” I said, and gave her the booklet.
With her tiny bony finger on the rules page she was going through each rule. Pausing every now and then, sighting loudly, and cursing under her breath. Which was great fun for me to watch; it made the whole waiting process so much more bearable.
“Don’t worry Olivia, I think the Shrek look will suit you,” I teased.
“Oh shut up Johnny, shut up,” she said, and threw the brochure on the table which I think made some of the others uncomfortable.
“Relax, am only playing with you.”
“I am not angry about that, well I am a bit. But, nobody told me.”
“I didn’t know about the rules either, I read them here.”
“Yeah but they lied to me, those devils. They lied.”
“Yeah, people lie all the time.”
“What people? Those were devils, real devils, they lied to me Johnny to get me to switch,” she said. “You know the other place there aren’t many rules, and I liked it there, but those devils lied. Bastards! I should have known.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Hell!” she screamed, and an old woman sitting on the sofa opposite us started shaking her head in condemnation. “Hey grandma, mind your own business,” said Olivia, and at that point the old woman got up and walked off, probably to make a complain at some office I thought.
“You forgot, swearing isn’t allowed,” I said.
“I wasn’t swearing, I just told her to mind her own business, who does she think-“
“Before that, you said ‘Hell’,”
“So?”
“So, that’s not allowed, I mean I don’t care myself but-“
“I was just answering your question Johnny boy. I was talking about Hell, and how those no good devils cheated me into signing into this.”
“What?”
“Are you retarded?”
“What? I mean no, I am not retarded, what the hell are you talking about? Are you saying that you just came over from Hell? I mean real Hell?”
“Yes! Boy you are slow.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Look here, I don’t care if you believe it or not, but it’s the truth.”
“I’ll play along, what happened then. Why are you here?”
“Well, there I was minding my own business, living my eternity-“
“In Hell?” I asked.
“Yes! And stop interrupting me Mr.-Now where was I?-“
“Hell,” I said somewhat loudly and another woman got up, shook her head, grabbed her two children and left. The people by the complaints office will have a ball I thought.
“Hell,” continued Olivia, “yes, let me start from the beginning, and pay attention you! I don’t want to repeat this. Now, three years ago I passed on. I was stabbed in the back, literally. I think it was Shrek, that ***** I told you about. Anyway, I passed on and went to Hell. Now, about three weeks ago I was approached by three ‘Area C’, my area, senior administrators and they told me that I was the lucky winner of the ‘Eternity Exchange Program’-“
“Eternity Exchange Program?” I interrupted.
“Yes, it started about three hundred years ago; basically it is an agreement by the two sides to transfer souls every five years,” she explained.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because mistakes happen.”
“That is ridiculous.”
“You are ridiculous! Okay, sorry, let me explain. Now imagine somebody who isn’t really meant for Hell to end up there. That is bad for both the soul that ended there and bad for Hell. Imagine a ‘goody good’ person running around Hell, preaching to everyone ‘stop this’ and ‘stop that’ it’s really annoying for the other souls. And, visa versa; imagine a ‘baddy’ ending in
“I think you are making all this up as you go along.”
“Whatever,” she said, and shrugged.
“Okay, why did you want to switch?”
“Honestly, I didn’t. But, those devils, the administrators, told me that it would be better for me here, I mean I didn’t mind Hell, I mostly kept to myself there, spent my days sleeping or drinking, mostly drinking, and my nights dancing in the clubs and drinking(again), you know basically done the things I enjoyed. But, I think the administrators were a bit pissed off that I didn’t participate in the orgies and some of the other rituals. So those two-faced bastards told me to switch, that I would like it better here, that I could dance and drink and smoke and sleep as much as I wanted without being harassed, and after they showed me the pictures of Paradise and the clubs they have over here I signed up.”
“Oh well, you know you might like it better here after all, big deal if you can’t smoke or drink,” I said.
“Drink, I can’t drink?”
“Rule number forty-nine: No Alcoholic beverages of any kind. Haven’t you read it?”
“ ****!” She screamed.
At that point my name was called and I got up and left. Poor Olivia I thought as I walked towards Mr. Clark’s office, but it was funny though. She seemed like a crazy/strange person, in an exotic sort of way, and I hoped to get to know her better once we were both signed in.
Mr. Clark’s office was a tiny room about the size of a jail cell. There was a desk with scattered documents and a computer terminal on it. I took a sit on one of the blue office chairs and waited for Mr. Clark to look up from his computer terminal. I didn’t want to bother him just then, he did look rather busy with what ever he was looking at on that screen. That, plus he reminded me of my high school gym coach, who punched me in the gut once when he caught me messing the changing room with graffiti. Mr. Clark and my high school gym coach (I forget his name) both are fat, ugly, and have ‘Sadam Hussein’ moustaches.
“Have a sit Mr. Jones,” he finally said, without taking his eyes off that screen.
“I am already sitting,” I said. At that point he looked at me and smiled.
“Good, Mr. Jones I was just trying to access your file on the PC but the server seems to be down, this machine, boy, it just freezes on me. Oh, well, let’s give it a few seconds to cool down.”
“Okay.”
“So, let’s see now,” he said and picked a document from his desk, “It says here you passed on, by… Heart attack.”
“Really? I thought it was an accident, I remember driving and then all of a sudden I was at the gates, you know outside.”
“Yeah… No, it was a heart attack, while you were driving,” he said, “and lets see, right, here we are, you scored 1316 points on your ‘earthly life’ which qualified you for eternity in Paradise, just barely.”
“Earthly points?” I requested
“Earthly life points,” he corrected.
“Yeah, earthly life points, okay, what are they?” I asked again, I had feeling Mr. Clark not only shared my high school’s coach looks but his brain power too.
“Well, you earn points for every good deed you do and get points deducted from every bad deed, and, you scored 1316. Now, the entry point is 1300 points, that’s with the new system, it used to be 1900 but management decided to bring the threshold down a few years ago, we weren’t getting enough souls. Now lets see, here we are, yes, it says here that seven years ago you saved a blind woman from certain death. She was in the middle of the road about to get hit by a truck when you jumped in and pushed her out the way, very heroic, that earned you 800 points.”
“Yeah, I was drunk, that was crazy. After that I quite drinking, it was getting too crazy if you know what I mean, jumping in traffic and all that. That was my wake up call.”
“Aha, yeah, good, good. Lets try the computer again,” he said and turned the machine on again. “Let’s see now, John W. Jones 1874-2007, all right… No, why? This computer, I think I’ll have to call the tech boys, sorry about this Mr. Jones it won’t take long now, I’ll just call-“
“Mr. Clark,” I interrupted the idiot, “I think you have entered my date of birth wrong.”
“What? 1874, oh boy! Oh boy! Why now that’s crazy, its 1974 right? Yeah, oh boy, sorry about that, it’s just one of those days,” he said and typed in my details again. “All right we have a green light now,” he said, “great, while we wait you can go ahead and fill in this form” he said, and handed me a form: TE 17.
“Oh come on, another form?”
“Mr. Jones calm down now, this is necessary.”
“It’s stupid, these forms are stupid, ‘what’s your favorite color’ and all that crap, I mean what’s the point?”
“It is necessary; we can’t check you in without form TE 17.”
“Why?”
“So we can make your experience better, we can provide you with uniforms in your favorite color and-“
“Whoa, whoa, wait a second, Uniforms?”
“Yes, we try to keep things orderly here, we have a day uniform, a sports uniform, a night uniform and a special events uniform and we can make them all in your favorite color, isn’t it great!”
“No, it’s stupid.”
“Calm down. All right?”
“Okay, give me the form, it better be the last one,” I said and started answering those stupid questions on the form, ‘favorite animal’, ‘favorite dish’, ‘favorite sport’, sport? What the hell was that all about?
“Err, what’s the deal with the favorite sport thing?” I asked.
“Well, between the hours of 9:00 and 12:00 it is compulsory to participate in our sports program, we have tennis, basketball, volleyball-“
“I’ll leave that blank, I don’t like any sport.”
“No Mr. Jones I am afraid it’s necessary.”
“What? Why? Can’t I just, oh I don’t know, say… do something else during those hours like read or sleep or something?”
“No, that’s impossible,” he said, “it’s not healthy for the soul to sleep a lot, plus sports enhance your experience here."
I thought about poor Olivia, no smoking, drinking, or sleeping which made me say “What about clubs, are there any clubs here?”
“Sure, sure, we have the chess club and we have-“
“No, I mean like discos, clubs were people dance.”
“We have a line dancing class in gym four and eight every Thursday night.”
“I don’t think Olivia is into line dancing.” Or any other type of dancing that isn't free from rules. “What?”
“Never mind, look here Mr. Clark, I don’t like sports, and am not doing any. Isn’t any way around this?”
“Let me call my superiors and find out, but I don’t think there-“
“Just call already,” I said, and earned my self a nasty look from Mr. Clark, but I didn’t care, I was fed up with this whole thing. He placed several calls and he seemed to be transferred a lot; nobody seemed to know the answer.
Finally he put the phone down, took a deep breath and said, “Okay, we have good news, basically there is a way. All you have to do is get a ‘sports exception certificate’.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Well there you go, but if you ask me-“
“Okay, how do I get it?” I asked.
“From room forty-one B, that’s upstairs, but to go upstairs you need to fill in a form, form 0501, you get that from Cathy. Then you take it to Eric’s office to be stamped, once you get it stamped you bring the form back to me where I can issue you a hall pass for upstairs, then when you-“
“Hold on, okay, I get a form from Cathy right?” I interrupted.
“Yes, form 0501.”
“I fill it in and take it to Eric’s office. Where is Eric’s office?” I asked.
“It’s on the second floor, room thirty-nine, right at the corner-“
“Second floor?” I interrupted again.
“Yes, really easy to find, you just-“
“Second floor, as in upstairs second floor?”
“Yes, it’s by… Oh boy, oh I see now,” he said, and scratched his balding head.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Let me call my supervisor, it won’t take long now, I’ll-”
“You know what, don’t bother I am leaving, I had it with you guys.”
“Mr. Jones! You can’t go upstairs without a pass,” he said loudly.
“Forget the pass buddy, am getting out of here, going over to the other company.”
“Well I can’t stop you, if that’s what you want to do, but Hell, now that’s a nasty place, it’s chaotic, and disorganized and-“
“I don’t care, bye,” I said, got up and left Mr. Clarks office.
I walked over to the reception area, told Cathy I was leaving and asked her to give a message to Olivia for me, but there was no use, it was against regulation.
“Well never mind, I don’t think she will last long here anyway,” I said.
“Oh, Mr. Jones, I wish you could stay here. Why are you leaving, is it because of Mr. Clark? Between you and me I think he is a bit rude, I think its because of his job, his earthly job, made him all stressful and-”
“No it’s not because of Mr. Clark that am leaving, on the whole I had it with all these forms, and passes, and rules and all that jazz.”
“I see. Well, good luck Mr. Jones.”
“Thanks, oh just out of curiosity, what was Mr. Clark’s earthly profession? Immigration officer?” I asked.
“Nope, he was a high school gym coach.”
I didn’t reply. I walked silently, right out the building and into the beautiful and peaceful gardens and then out of the golden front gates. I walked all the way across the road, towards the fiery bowls of Hell, where even from a distance I could hear the ominous drums and the beastly rhythmic growls of a Black Sabbath song: Heaven and Hell. Possibly coming out from hidden speakers for the amusement of the new souls seeking to make Hell International© their eternity resort.
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| Last Updated ( Sunday, 11 November 2007 ) |
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