The End of the Line

“Finally; I’m here.”

“It looks like you’ve been here awhile. How long have you been standing in line.”

“Five hundred twenty five years and seventy two days.”

“That long? Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“I was told to wait in line to get into Hell. So, here I am”

“So, what’s your name?”

“William”

“William who?”

“William of London?”

“Hold on; I need to look you up.”

“Hmm - Tax collector?”

“That’s me.”

“What a coincidence. That’s what I was; at least I was until 20 years ago. You look thirsty; how about some water?”

“Oh, thank you. I haven’t had any water since I arrived.”

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I’m still thirsty.”

“Yeah, but that’s all we have around here. It will make you pee, but it burns when you do.”

“You were a tax collector?”

“Yeah I was; one of the best that worked for the I.R.S.”

“Who’s Iris?”

“Not Iris; the I.R.S. – Internal Revenue Service.”

“I never heard of that.”

“I guess not. My specialty was trust funds and inheritance. I could root out suspicious activity and make generations pay their taxes. I even received awards, until that woman showed up with a pistol. I still remember what she said: “Go to Hell, you bastard.” And here I am. Twenty years later. “

“You’ve only been here twenty years? I’ve been waiting in line for over five hundred years. “

“I don’t make the rules, but looking at your file, I can see why you had to wait so long. It says here you took food from starving people for the King, which caused them to suffer until they died. According to the statistics, your efforts led to the death of over two thousand people.”

“I was doing my job.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

“If I hadn’t, I would have been tortured to death.”

“So, you traded that for over five hundred years of suffering in a line to get in Hell?”

“I never thought of it that way.”

“Oh well; you can’t live in the past.”

“I need to see some I.D. before I let you in.”

“I.D.? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Identification. You know? An official plastic card with your photograph and identification number?”

“Where can I get one.”

“That’ not my department, so I can’t let you in. You’ll have to go to the back of the line.”

“Wait……”

“Security, please escort this man to the back of the line.”

“Next?”