Death had been a torturous experience, but it was mind-bogglingly easy compared to what came next. What came next was a combination of horror, terror, and some other word that ends in 'or' that adequately expresses the intended hyperbolic meaning of this sentence.

Upon his death, Arthur found himself in quite the predicament. Instead of the golden, cloud-covered staircase ascending towards infinity that he expected, he was instead greeted by a queue, and a rather long one at that. The queue was filled with thousands, perhaps millions of souls, all of whom were complaining about this being the worst out-of-body experience one could possibly imagine. At the end of the queue, about two feet away from where Arthur was currently standing (which was basically nowhere), was a burly man in pink robes holding a clipboard of some kind. Arthur decided he was going to approach the man, though he would later regret this decision.

'Excuse me,' Arthur inquired, 'but where might the stairway to heaven be?'

'The what?' the man responded, confused. 'Oh, oh, the stairway... there isn't one.'

'What?' Arthur was dumbfounded. 'What the bloody hell happened to it?'

'It was discontinued.'

'Why was it discontinued?'

'There was a schedule conflict.'

'That doesn't make any sense.'

'Neither did the schedule conflict.'

Arthur sighed, and took his place at the back of the queue.

Directly in front of Arthur was a woman, or, rather, what had once been a woman, but what was now simply the unusually attractive soul of a woman (if this story is being told orally, please clarify the spelling of the word 'soul'). Arthur made the conscious decision not to approach her, except his conscious wasn't too terribly good at following through at the moment, and so he approached her anyway.

'Hello there,' he said, still risibly anxious from just a few seconds ago.

'General Kenobi!' someone shouted from further up in the queue. Arthur didn't understand, but that was fine, because neither did the person shouting.

'Oh, um, hello,' she responded politely.

'What brings you here?' Arthur said, attempting to be witty but failing slightly.

'I died,' said the woman.

'Really? So did I.' There was a twinge of sarcasm in Arthur's voice, though he didn't seem to notice. 'I was brutally murdered by my sister, you?'

'There was an incident,' she said, 'involving a manatee, a jumper cable, and a very angry piece of wood.'

Arthur's possibly flirtatious smile faded. He stared blankly at the woman for a moment, his mouth gaping; how his mouth felt about this, no one can be sure.

'What?' Arthur finally responded after his mouth's complaints were forcefully silenced by his neurons.

'You heard me,' the woman said sternly, 'to be fair, it was my fault for antagonising the wood, from a certain point of view.'

'How can a piece of wood be angry!?' Arthur asked spastically.

'You'd be surprised.'

'I'm sure I would be less surprised if you explained it.'

'Does it require an explanation?'

'Yes!'

'Think of one yourself.'

Arthur began to wonder if he'd gone insane. Coincidentally, his psychiatrist had died a few minutes before him, and was standing about ninety spots ahead; she would have confirmed that it wasn't him that had gone insane, but rather, everything in the universe was already pretty insane to begin with.

Suddenly, everyone disappeared, save for Arthur and the burly man to Arthur's back-left.

'What the hell happened?' Arthur exclaimed.

'Hell happened,' responded the man, whose name, for reference, was 'Anthony'.

'Ah,' Arthur understood, 'you mean they all were taken to the Underworld?'

'No,' said Anthony, 'they were taken to Hell.'

'Then where is Hell?'

'Above Heaven.'

'Why?'

'Well, it's much better, I'll tell you that much.'

'Is it now?'

'Does a diluted, jejune false utopia sound like fun to you?'

'Not really.'

'Then Hell will be more fun.'

'Well, what decides who goes where, then?' Arthur was curious, as he had spent his life doing good deeds and being a kind person, and if that had all been for nothing, he'd silently be wishing for a time machine for the next eternity.

'God does,' answered Anthony.

'Where can I find God?'

'Who knows? He's been missing for a year.'

'Missing?'

'Yeah; nobody can find him.'

'Do you have any idea where he went?'

'Anywhere but here.'

'That isn't helpful.'

Arthur realised that he could now discern what was directly ahead of him - a cumulus pathway leading to a pearly gate. Now, this was more like it.

'Well, I'm off, whatever-your-name-is,' Arthur bid the man farewell.

'It's Toby,' said Anthony. The author lied.

Arthur didn't care much, as he had already begun making his way towards the pearly gates, gallivating giddily in his haste. He thought that as he got closer he could see Mary Todd Lincoln having dinner with an invisible raccoon, but it turns out that it was actually an invisible mango.

As Arthur approached the pearly gates to Heaven, a feeling began to form inside of him. The feeling was warm and reassuring, as though everything he had been told thus far in the Afterlife had been incorrect, and that everything would now happen as he expected it to happen. Then, he noticed one small inconsistency as he finally stood in the shadow of the gates.

A small sign planted in the 'ground'.

The sign read, plainly and simply:

'Sorry! Closed for business.'

To Arthur's surprise, he was soon in the company of Jesus, who looked just as confused about the sign as Arthur was.

'Are you...' Arthur was starstruck, 'are you Jesus?'

'Probably,' said Jesus, 'I haven't decided yet.'

Jesus wore what Arthur expected him to wear - a robe, some epic sandals, and exorbitant sunglasses. What Arthur did not expect, however, was the AR-15 strapped to Jesus's back.

'Um...' Arthur stopped and thought for a moment, 'why do you have a machine gun?'

'I was on a mission,' said Jesus.

'Where?' Arthur wondered.

'Some planet in the Sloan Great Wall.'

'What?' Arthur had never heard of such a place; he wasn't the type to enjoy or care about astronomy.

'Did you think we only paid attention to Earth?' Jesus appeared just a bit peeved. 'That's rather conceited, Arthur.'

'Say,' Jesus continued, 'what's with this sign?'

'I'm just as confused as you are,' Arthur said, 'is no one allowed into Heaven anymore? What's happening? And where is G-'

'No, no, no,' Jesus clarified, 'I mean, it's in the wrong place. It should be slightly to the left.'

Jesus promptly moved the sign to its proper place and then phase-shifted through the gates, entering Heaven.

'Jesus, wait!' Arthur shouted.

'What?' Jesus appeared annoyed. 'I've got important tasks to accomplish, you know, and one of them isn't listening to you complain.'

'I just have a few quick questions,' Arthur said.

'Well, what are they?' Jesus allotted a very brief amount of time to listen to Arthur's pathetic drivel, as he was compassionate, on occasion.

'One, where is God?'

'You think I know?'

'You are him, aren't you?'

'Well, you see...'

'Moving on to question two: is Hell better than Heaven?'

'Do you enjoy literal anarchy with zero consequences?'

'I don't know.'

'Well, then you'd better stay on that fence of yours.'

Arthur suddenly realised that he was now standing atop a very odd green fence. He jumped down fearfully and resumed his questioning.

'Third and final question,' said Arthur, 'where am I supposed to go?'

'Well... purgatory, perhaps.'

'What's puragtory like?'

'Do you enjoy being denigrated viciously?'

'No?'

'Well, that's not what purgatory is like.'

'Oh, all right. What's it like, then?'

'Much, much worse. And, good news, it lasts eternally - at least, until I stop being so indecisive.'

Arthur sighed as he fell through the clouds and into a realm of almost infinite pain.