The king's reward

When Elvis died, he found himself standing in front of the pearly gates. It was all fluffy clouds and light and you could hear the angels all around singing as one heavenly choir. The king couldn't believe his luck.

"Alright man, I made it," he exclaimed. He started to approach the gate, but suddenly out of nowhere a pulpit appeared with an older angelic figure hovering behind it. He had a flowing white bear, long white robes and a halo and wings.

"Welcome," he intoned, drily. "I am Gabriel. What is your name, my son?"

"My name? My name is Elvis Aaron Presley, sir."

"Hmmm...let's see, Presley, Presley...ah, here it is. Born on...Mmmm....died of drug overdose? Really now."

Elvis started to sweat. He hoped his..excesses weren't back to bite him in the ass.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't really make any difference. The lord is a big fan of yours, in any case." Gabriel said this definitely but indifferently.

Elvis breathed a sigh of relief.

"So...does that mean I can go in? Do I get my heavenly reward?"

"Hmm? Yes, yes. Go on," he said as the gate began to open.

Elvis smiled a trademark smile as he made his way through the gates.

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Heaven was not what he was expecting, however. The first thing he noticed was the extreme lack of other people. The next was how soft and squishy the ground was, like a slimy mud pile. The moment he walked through the gate it disappeared and he was surrounded on all sides by fluffy clouds below and bluer than blue skies above.While the heavenly music never abated, there didn't seem to be a single sound otherwise. Without anything better to do he started to walk.

After he'd been walking for awhile he thought he saw some shapes way of in the distance and the faint hum of voices. People! Elvis hurried forward, but no matter how much he ran, they never got any closer. When he finally stopped, panting, the figures began to recede further until they were completely gone.

"Dammit," Elvis said, trying to catch his breath. He noticed what terrible shape he was in still. "Figured they coulda made me younger."

When he had recovered enough, he decided to keep on moving and try and find those others. He hoped he found them soon, as the heavenly choir had never abated in all the time he was here and it was starting to get on his nerves.


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Finally, after what must have been hours Elvis collapsed onto the ground. The ground felt like a dirty wet sponge against his skin, but he didn't care. He was exhausted. He hadn't had to walk like or even use his body like this for years. He was a mess. Sweat was pouring down his face and back, his feet were full of blisters. he lay on his side looking off at the endless clouds and his breath came out as wheezy rasping. "What kinda Heaven is this anyhow?" he groaned frustratingly.

"It isn't."

Elvis yelped as he was shocked by the sudden voice behind him and rolled painfully onto his back to see who was speaking. The man had a thick heavy mustache, dark slicked back hair and beady little eyes. He wore army fatigues. Elvis recognized him at once.

"You're..Stalin!"

Josef Stalin smiled slightly.  It was fearsome.

"So you know me. Good. I was afraid people would not remember. But Stalin I am no longer. Call me Soso. This is what my mother called me. And you are?" His voice was thick and heavy, but clear.

"You don't know? Oh, I guess you were already dea....that is.."

"Dead? Yes, as are you, comrade."

"Yeah, I guess so." Elvis paused a minute so he could sit up. he was feeling a bit better and didn't want to lie with his belly flopping out. "What was that you were saying? This ain't heaven?"

"No." Soso moved to sit down besides him. "I don't know what it is, but it isn't Heaven. Tell me, did you work with people?"

"I was..a performer."

"Were you good to the people in your life?"

"I..." Elvis wanted to say yes, but knew it would be a lie. "No."

"I thought not." He sighed. "I was terrible to the people I loved. Terrible to the nation that trusted me. I craved power and destroyed all those who opposed me. Then I was trying so hard to keep what I had I lost sight of what really mattered. Does this sound familiar?"

Elvis couldn't speak, so he merely nodded.

"When you consider all the evil that I have done, even had I believed in a life after death I knew I wouldn't be going anyplace good."

"So, this is...Hell?"

A chill ran down Elvis' spine.

Soso chuckled.

"I don't believe so. I don't know. It seems to me this is a place to try and redeem yourself. Or to suffer privately forever. The ones I have encountered were all wicked shepherds of men of one kind or another. What worse hell can there be for ones like us but to be trapped forever with people like us?"

With that, Soso got up, dusted his backside and started to walk away. Within a few moments, he was gone.

Elvis watched him go. He realized he was right. What could be worse than to be utterly alone? He sighed to no one but himself and the heavenly choir. He hoped he could figure some things out in the time ahead.