Ce-Less-tial Glory

PARADISE-  Many LDS faithful spend countless hours acquiring modest clothing for phallic stage children, wearing one or fewer pairs of earrings, and avoiding the appearance of evil, banking on the hope that the gates of heaven will eschew such lukewarm members as that tramp Tammy Crenshaw from down the road.

“Turns out Almighty God’s just not as wrathful as I’d hoped,” lamented L. Rob Bernstein, a former living resident of Alpine, UT, when asked about that insufferable less-active Tammy. Upon hearing that Tammy was busy converting practically-damned Muslims down in Spirit Prison, Rob rolled his eyes.

“I mean, I paid my fire insurance my whole life, and visited that prick Randy across the cul-de-sac once a month, for 15 years. You think that was easy? All Tammy ever did was put dirty thoughts in every neighborhood deacon’s head, what with never wearing a cami under her tank tops. This is bullshit.”

A recent paradisiacal poll found 92% of good Mormons are shocked that inactive asshole Todd Johnson is not suffering soul-rending damnation, worlds without end.

When asked what he thought about all the fuss, Todd replied “I don’t know what the big deal is. I mean, all we do is a buttload of temple work 24-7. It gets boring man. Had I know what I was getting myself into, I’d have probably killed someone. Anyways, I gotta get back to work. No appetite and not needing sleep means we don’t get many breaks.”

Many dutiful saints find themselves battling shock and depression upon finding their less-faithful counterparts not languishing in the fires of eternal torment, said sources. When asked about that inactive skank Olivia working over in record keeping, former living denizen of Provo Donna Summers was upset that she “would never quit dressing like a whore even once, no matter what.”

“I was promised people like them would suffer the fullest ire of the Lord of Hosts,” Mumbled Joe Winthrop, as he plunged someone under the water. “At least that’s what I learned in “How to Die Right and Barely Suffer,” by Brad Wilcox. “Now buzz off, I’m on ‘life guard’ duty for the next 17 years,” as performing baptisms has become colloquially known.

The general feeling around the Holy Paradise seems to be one of frustration, and disappointment. “It’s really hard, you know?  I mean, you grow up certain that your white shirt means you’re better than the colored shirt folk. And suddenly you look over in the middle of the creation scene, and there sits Mr. Landon “I’m throwin’ away my birthright for a Sunday brunch” Kramer.” Rob buries his face in his hands, suffering pain, grievous to be born. “I thought we’d at least get a better video, but it’s still the same one.”