Here’s your balloon! Hmm, it’s not floating? Well, just scoop it up, if you don’t mind. I see you’re ready to ride the rides.
Games, hot dogs, cotton candy… it’s all waiting! But you’ll have to be patient – in case you didn’t notice, this is the afterlife.
Not what you expected, eh? We’ve done away with that Heaven and Hell schmaltz. Nowadays we don’t judge, we just hand balloons to everyone.
They’re filled with all the hurt you’ve done to others, and before you can enter the fair you have to experience those hurts from the other perspective.
Yep, everything! Every insult, backstab, broken heart, and so on. Some balloons can float, most droop a bit, but in your case… Goodness, what did you do in life?
Oh, my. Bombs? Bystanders? *Children?* That’s… Never mind, just stand over there and wait for your balloon to pop. It’s gonna be a doozy. Not worried? Ah, you think “BOOM!” and it’s over.
You’re already dead, so what’s the big deal, right? Well, here’s the thing about being dead – there’s nowhere else to go.
And since it will take you a long, *long* time to pull yourself together (if you ever do), I’m afraid you’re going to feel the pain of every blasted, shredded chunk. No matter how far apart.
Constantly. But keep your chin up! After that brief eternity, you know what happens when we speak again?
I'll hand you the next balloon in your bunch.
Sound fair to you?