I would have bet that when I died, that would be it. And I suppose I had done exactly that.
It wasn't pearly gates, or lakes of fire, but instead a desk, a small mound of paperwork, and a studious looking... shape.
"Having completed your stint, please sign these documents."
I didn't so much hear the words as I felt them in what was whatever the equivalent of my brain.
"Don't I get a chance to play a game or something to get more time?"
"You did, that's life."
"You mean-"
"No, not the one with the little plastic cars."
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