I awakened in a stark white room with no doors, or windows. It was a room with just one continuous circular wall, a floor of white grass, and an open roof.

"Hello?" I said to the nothingness that surrounded me.

Much to my surprise a reply came. Large letters began to appear, scrolling across the wall like some sort of minimalist Times Square but without the giant Cup O' Soup. 'W' came first followed quickly by 'elcome'.

"Where am I?" I asked the wall, thankful I at least had something to direct my words to.

"You are dead, this is the afterlife." The wall flashed in an annoying comic sans font.

"Er" I stammered. But the wall continued:

"Confusion is to be expected, but it will pass. Please watch this short informational film. It should answer many of your questions."

Just then an all white film projector appeared out of nowhere and began to beam flickering images against the wall. First came the expected 4, 3, 2, 1 countdown then the film itself began.

The Afterlife Informational Commission in conjunction with President's Choice films present:

SO YOU'RE DEAD. WHAT NOW?

As the film opened a room came into view. It was identical to every family room ever used for a sitcom. There were paneled walls, a stairway that lead to nowhere, a couch placed in the middle of the room in such a way that it asked for a #####y teenage child to jump over the back of it and land comfortably, remote control in hand.

Then the camera panned slightly across the set as a familiar voice filled the room.

"Hello, I'm Phil Hartman. You might remember me from such TV shows as News Radio, The Simpsons, and Saturday Night Live. And just like you, I'm dead. I'm sure that you have many questions about your new found lack of living. But you will have plenty of time to search out those answers, after all this is eternity here. However, you will find that many of the preconceptions that are held so dear by the living, are a tad off. There is no 'Heaven', 'Hell', 'Nirvana', or reincarnation and you definitely do not get your own planet nor will you find 72 virgins awaiting you. Much to my shagrin, I might add. I mean honestly after what landed me here, is that really too much to ask, 72 virgins? Rule #1, never marry an emotionally unstable crackhead. Sorry where was I? Oh yeah, basically, the afterlife is a lot like life but without all the worrying about death."

And with that; the family room, Phil Hartman, and the projector dissapreared. But the wall once again flashed with a message. But this time in a much more annoying festiva font.

"Before you enter the afterlife, do you have any further questions?"

I was still attempting to process everything going on and decided to say so.

"I am still attempting to process everything going on." I said, "Can I have a beer?"

And with a slight 'pop' a row of beer taps began to appear along the wall and a barstool shot up from the ground like a chrome flower.

And I sat, sipped and pondered. After much pondering and even more sipping, I could think of only one question to ask before I ventured out into the eternity of my afterlife.

"How did I get here?"

The wall was silent for a second, but a spinning hourglass appeared to assure me it was working on it.

Then the letters began again and turned into words:

"On May 19, 2005 you said now that you have seen the final Star Wars movie that you could die happy."

"It is a figure of speech" I stammered, starting to feel the effects of the lager, "not a request"

"Well, we are pretty literal here in the afterlife." The wall replied in a very stern old gothic.

And with that a door opened behind me and the wall simply said "EXIT" with that I got up and stepped out into the afterlife.

To be con't