Three police officers stood patiently in line at the Pearly Gates, waiting to be admitted. Saint Peter looked down at his clipboard and motioned to the first man.
“What did you do with your life?” Saint Peter asked.
“I was a police officer,” the man replied proudly.
“And what kind of police officer were you?” Saint Peter pressed.
“I worked vice,” the officer said. “I kept drugs off the streets and out of the hands of kids.”
Saint Peter smiled warmly. “Excellent work. Welcome to Heaven.”
He opened the gates and waved him through.
Turning to the second man, Saint Peter asked, “And what was your role?”
“I was a traffic officer,” the man replied. “I kept the roads and highways safe.”
Saint Peter nodded approvingly. “Well done. Welcome to Heaven.”
The gates opened again.
Finally, Saint Peter looked at the third officer. “And what kind of police officer were you?”
“I was a military policeman, sir,” the man answered crisply.
Saint Peter’s eyes lit up. “Wonderful! I’ve been waiting for you all day!”
The officer blinked. “You have?”
“Yes,” Saint Peter said, handing him the keys.
“I need to take a break. Watch the gate for me, will you?”
The Prestige Car Dealership
A young woman walked confidently into a prestige car showroom filled with Porsches, Lamborghinis, Jaguars, and Ferraris. She strolled around casually, then pointed at a top-of-the-range red Porsche.
“I’ll take that one,” she said. “I’ll pay cash.”
Before the stunned salesman could respond, she pulled out a carrier bag and began dumping handfuls of cash onto the desk until the full price was reached. The deal was finalized in record time, and she roared out of the dealership in her new car.
Two days later, she was back.
“I want my money back,” she said firmly. “The car smells awful when I use the brakes.”
Panicking—having already taken the cash and creatively adjusted the books—the manager insisted on riding along with her to see what the problem was.
The moment he buckled in, she floored it.
She blasted out of the dealership, hit second gear at 55 mph, slammed into third at 80, and yanked the handbrake into a country lane. Then she really accelerated.
Fourth gear at 120 mph.
Fifth at 145.
The engine screamed as the speedometer crept toward 170 mph. The scenery became a green blur, and the manager was pinned to his seat by pure terror.
Ahead, he spotted a level crossing. The barriers were coming down.
Thank God, he thought. She’ll have to slow down.
Instead, the engine roared even louder.
At the last possible second—barely 100 yards from the barrier—she slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt just inches from disaster.
She turned calmly to the manager and said,
“Can you smell it?”
He stared at her, pale and shaking.
“SMELL IT? I’M SITTING IN IT!”
Mistaken Identity
A middle-aged woman suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. While on the operating table, she had a near-death experience and found herself standing before God.
“Is this it?” she asked nervously.
“No,” God replied. “You still have another 30 to 40 years to live.”
Relieved, she survived the operation and had an epiphany. Since she had decades ahead of her, she decided to reinvent herself completely.
She stayed in the hospital and had everything done—facelift, liposuction, breast augmentation, tummy tuck. She even dyed her hair. When she finally walked out, she felt younger, fresher, and ready to enjoy life.
Moments later, she was struck and killed by an ambulance racing into the hospital.
She arrived before God again, furious.
“I thought you said I had another 30 to 40 years!”
God squinted at her for a moment and said,
“Oh… sorry about that. I didn’t recognize you.”