I was always kinda banking on there NOT being an afterlife. That we just cease to exist and we're worm food or whatever, which means I could do whatever I damn well please without fretting over my potential eternal reward or damnation. And that's exactly what I did for most of my life: whatever I damn well pleased, screw everyone else.

And I guess I figured, on the incredibly slim chance there is an afterlife, well, that's Future Me's problem, not mine — and I am constantly screwing stuff up for that bitch anyway.

Except now I am Future Me, having discovered upon my (in my opinion extremely untimely) death that the buck doesn't stop there. And now there's hell to pay.

Literally.

Because yeah, I always knew where my assigned seat would be in the post-mortem classroom. I have no delusions of goodness. I lied, cheated, screwed people over for my benefit, I had fun. And I guess it's about to catch up with me like it never quite does on Earth.

So I'm immediately plotting how I can best turn this scenario to my advantage. Presumably there'll be some torture, but maybe I can convince them to let me torture some poor unfortunate soul instead? How do demons get created anyway? They gotta start somewhere, right?

Except the torture never quite starts... I'm wondering if maybe they forgot about me. Or maybe what makes it Hell is the anticipation, waiting and thinking of all the terrible things that are about to befall you, like your imagination is worse than anything they could even do.

Because so far, things have been... well, they've been downright pleasant. Unless you call delicious food, unlimited massages, and a general warm sense of comfort and wellbeing "torture"? I certainly wouldn't. If I didn't know better, I'd call it "heaven"... I've even met several demons and they've been surprisingly helpful and accommodating. Seriously no complaints about this place so far, but that's got to be a weird thing to say about Hell, right?

Part of me wonders if they're trying to pull some "Good Place" crap on me, but I figure once that idea has been broadcast on national television, Hell can't very well try to coopt it themselves. Regardless, I loudly proclaim "you know I've seen The Good Place, right?" just in case.

A demon eventually appears, seemingly in response to my confusion about the ongoing situation. "Yes, we're aware of everything you've ever watched. We have it all available for you to re-watch on demand, as well as every other piece of entertainment in existence. Do you need set-up help or something?"

A little exasperated and a little impatient to just get on with the torture already, I figure this is as good a time as any to get some answers. "No, no, I just... Like what is the deal here? Has there been some kind of mix-up?"

Now it's the demon's turn to look confused. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that, well, I know what I was like as a person. I was, to put it kindly, an asshole. So I'm a little perplexed as to why it feels like I somehow ended up in Heaven..."

The demon smiles. "Oh, I assure you this is not Heaven. This is certainly Hell."

"Right so then why is everything so great here? Why do I feel like I'm being rewarded? I mean, not that I'm complaining, I feel like an idiot for even bringing this up... But I was led to believe I'd be punished for all the bad stuff I did in life, and trust me, there were some doozies —"

"Oh but of course!" the demon excitedly interrupts. "Big fan of your work! We could already tell how evil you'd be after that stunt you pulled at Molly's sixth birthday party — you showed promise from such a young age. I guess you wouldn't know this but would you believe she needed therapy for years after that? Oh, and I actually have a framed print-out of the breakup text you sent Michael after he told you he was finally leaving your best friend, Shari. That was gold."

I push the fond memories from my mind to concentrate on the matter at hand: "Exactly! So then why doesn't this feel like the eternal retribution that I supposedly deserve?"

The demon scoffs. "That you deserve?!" He shakes his head gently, then speaks slowly as if I'm just not getting it, which, to be fair, I'm not. "Is the Devil not evil incarnate?"

"I guess?"

"Then why in the Hell would he punish you for being evil? He LOVES evil! And you did a great job of it while you were alive, so why wouldn't you get a red carpet welcome for doing exactly what he most loves?"

"So I'm being rewarded? For being a selfish bitch for like pretty much my entire life?" As the idea leaves my lips, I have to admit it feels good.

He smiles, a now-you're-gettin'-it smile. "Welcome to Hell, baby."