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On our way to the bus one afternoon, Holly and I got around to discussing whether or not either of us-- or any of our friends, for that matter-- would end up going to Hell. With a chuckle, she told me that she and Emily, a close firned of hers and an acquantance of mine, had actually gone so far as to compose a list of the names of our friends they knew for sure would end up burning in a fiery pit. Basically, we were all listed. Except for Ian, that is.

"He's too," Holly paused to search for the right word to describe our sorry lunch mate. "Good." We hauled ourselves up the few stairs on the afternoon bus, tossed our bags onto the floor in front of our favorite seat, and plopped down. I nodded in accord.

"He's probably going to end up sitting on a cloud all day, wearing one of those togas and plucking at a harp."

Holly nodded, "Boring." After yelling at several students and adjusting her bra, the bus driver started up the bus and we slowly began to move away from the school.

"At least if I'm going to end up in Hell," I said, "I'll be in good company. I've got you, Alexa, Lea, Alexa's mom, Chris Rock, Justin, and if we're lucky, Billy and Wendy."

Holly attuned.

"You know what's ironic, though?" I asked with a slight smile. "For acting downright un-Christian-- whatever that means-- on a regular basis and associating with an Athiest*, we're rewarded with the presence of our friends and entertaining Hollywood icons, while Ian, who followed all the rules, must loll around alone all day on a cloud, leaning to play a useless instrument, and gorging himself on nectar and ambrosia."

"That was the Greeks, moron," grumbled Holly, eyes rolling heavenward.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "I'm sure that if the Greeks have nectar and ambrosia, God's found some way to import some from Mt. Olympus to Heaven. I mean, the guy's all-powerful." She looked as if she wished she had a gun in her mouth.

But really, I'm no idiot. I take to sprouting out nonsense-- but quite funny nonsense, if I do say so myself-- all the time. It's just for laughs.

"But yea," she conceded a moment later. "I do see your point. Sucks that we won't truly be rid of this constant babbling about all things Russian, though."

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know the famous Russians he likes-- Ivan The Terrible, Stalin-- probably went to Hell. I mean, look at Ivan's title: 'the TERRIBLE'?" She cocked an eyebrow for emphasis. "Definitely Hell fodder."

"So you're saying we'll be stuck with those obnoxious Russians for the whole of our afterlives?" I inquired with a fearful expression. Before she could respond, I went on. "It's bad enough having him greet us in Russian, but having Russian babbled at us for all eternity? FEH! Holly, I have come to a conclusion!"

"And that would be...?"

"We must repent! All of us! You, me, Alexa, Lea," I paused. "I think that's pretty much all of the outlandishly sinful gang members; Alexa's mom and Chris Rock can take care of their own affairs."

"But won't repenting just get us into Heaven with Ian?" asked Holly.

"Not necessarily," I said, sounding muy intelligente.**

"What do you mean, 'not necessarily'?" she said, furrowing her brow in disbelief as she always does when she gets ready to contradict me. "If Ian's in Heaven and we repent, we're going to end up in Heaven with him! There's no getting around it!"

"That would be correct," I said with a confident smile. "If I didn't have a plan..."

~~~~~~~

* = Alexa. And on top of that, she openly displays her indifference toward an inevitable fate of burning pits by making fun of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. We all find it very amusing, though. WHich is why, I supposed, we'll be joining her.

** = They make me take Spanish, I'm gonna use it. Besides, it makes me sound intelligent (not to mention creative) when I slap a taste of Spanish into my works.

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Good start, BTW. Hope to be reading more.