A LITTLE JOKE

The pope dies and goes to heaven. At the pearly gates, St. Peter welcomes him and asks if he's ready to enter heaven for all eternity. The pope replies, "Yes, but before I go in, I would really like to see what hell is like."

St. Peter thinks a moment and then responds, "I suppose it would be okay if you went down there for a half hour or so."

With that, the pope finds himself in hell, where, to his amazement, the inhabitants are having a huge party. 

They have the best of the best spread out: French champagne, Italian food, and music of all sorts, from Lawrence Welk to Jimi Hendrix. As the pope watches everyone eating, drinking and being merry, he starts to become very hungry and cannot wait to go back to heaven.

When the pope returns, St. Peter asks him, "How was hell?"

The pope replies, "Well, they were having such a big feast, I became famished watching them."

St. Peter then asks if the pope is ready to enter heaven, to which the pope replies, "Oh yes, I'm very excited. If the people in hell are having such a good time, I cannot imagine how great heaven will be!"

With that, St. Peter leads the pope into a small white room with a small white table and white chairs, and instructs the pope to have a seat. The pope looks a little puzzled but abides his host.

After a few minutes, Jesus enters the room carrying a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of milk, and takes a seat.

A moment later, St. Peter enters bearing two peanut butter sandwiches and glasses of milk. He hands a peanut butter sandwich and glass of milk to the pope, and sits down and starts to eat.

Admittedly the small nibble he took convinced the pope that this was indeed the type of sandwich that made the PBJ such a worldly success. The bread was the freshest Italian with a crust to (excuse me!) die for. 

The peanut butter was just the perfect consistency and the jam obviously made fresh from local strawberry fields. HOWEVER! 

He quietly replaced the sandwich and sat with his hands folded in his lap and observed his heavenly hosts.

As they silently sit eating, the pope becomes more and more agitated, until St. Peter finally asks him why he is not eating.

"Well," the pope responds, "down in hell they are having a big bash, with all the finest food, drink, music and dancing. I imagined heaven would top even that!"

"Why," St. Peter queries, raising his eyebrows, "you don't expect us to do all that for just the three of us, do you?"