While walking down the street one day, a politician is tragically hit by a large shocking pink campaign mini-bus (dashing to it's next female-voter patronising venue) and dies. His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.
"Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there is a problem. We seldom see a politician around these parts, you see, so we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in." says the politician.
"Well, I'd like to but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in Hell and one in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."
"Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in Heaven," says the politician
"I'm sorry but we have our rules." And with that, St. Peter escorts the politician to the lift and he goes down, down, down to Hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a green golf course. In the distance is a club and standing in front of it are all his friends and other people who had worked with him, everyone is very happy, healthy looking and well dressed. They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich on their expenses and backhanders. They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster and caviar. Also present is the Devil, who really is a very friendly chap, life and (lost) soul of the party who has a good time dancing and telling jokes.
They are having such a good time that, before he realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves while the lift rises. The lift goes up, up, up and the door reopens on Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for him.
"Now it's time to visit Heaven." So 24 hours pass with the politician joining a group of contented souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.
"Well then, you've spent a day in Hell and another in Heaven. Now choose your eternity."
He reflects for a minute, then the politician answers: "Well, I would never have thought it, I mean Heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in Hell."
So Saint Peter escorts him to the lift and he goes down, down, down to Hell. Now the doors of the lift open and he is in the middle of a barren land covered dark, evil smelling flames. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, being tortured by imps with pitchforks who laugh at their agony. The Devil comes over to the Republican and lays an arm on his neck.
"I don't understand," stammers the politician. Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and club and we ate lobster and caviar and danced and had a great time. Now all there is a wasteland of sulphurous fire, full of imps with pitchforks torturing my friends.
The Devil looks at him, smiles and says, "Yesterday we were campaigning. Now it is after you voted us in!"