For some time, I was unable to move. The thought of god had not crossed my mind in a while, although the absence of clocks or daylight made it hard to keep track of time at all. Kind of like in a casino. Having been safely put in Hell, I did not really think I would actually meet the man himself. I mean, the devil seemed alright, but the beer here was lukewarm and McDonald's was as awful ever, but that still would not enable him to imagine that Heaven would be any better. What would they have? Organic kale and beer made of lentils, all accordingly served with a side-dish of eternity with the most evil of gods himself? How great would that be? Truly?
''God?'' I uttered eventually, after a minute of murmuring to myself.
''Oh yes'', Twain said. ''And he is a sorry son of a bitch''.
''In what way?'' I asked, not really getting any more at ease.
''It's easier to ask in what way he is not. He is quite literally, mad at everyone and everything.''
''For what? Aren't there a whole lot of bunch of Christians in the world doing exactly what he wants?''
''Well yes, in a sense,'' Hitchens pitched in, ''the downside being that they are generally the awful people, whereas the non-religious are often the nicer ones.''
''So you would say he is more Old Testament, rather than new?''
''Oh, very much,'' Twain replied solemnly.
Even Hitchens seemed worried at this realisation. But what did they have to lose? They were dead after all. But they all agreed that the same bar was getting rather boring, the other people not any nicer, the beer not any better. So after some preparation - mostly consisting of Khan going at it yet again with some seriously overweight hooker, Hitler practising his finest goosestepping yet and Twain stealing all the whisky could - the troop set out, on the yellow brick road, towards an uncertain future, filled with Old Testament gods.
Gods, plural, I hear you thinking. Yes, there is one thing you might not know at this point, and that is likewise something Jake was unaware of at this point. And that is that the little-known fact that Hell is not actually the place where Jake went to die, nor any of his compatriots. This may seem to make logical sense to you, but that begs the question; where do the Hindus go to? The Muslims? Those that adhere to the non-violent Jainism? They all go to the same place. Jake has witnessed them, spoke to them, discussed their disappointment. Only the truly pious would go to Heaven, but how does one know?
This, in turn, means something very important. All the gods are represented in Hell, and in turn, at the end of the yellow brick road. And it was this fact for Jake to discover, for reasons he did not yet understand.
But before they would get there, long ways were still to be ahead. Tough no Tin-Man, no Lion, nor a Scarecrow would accompany then, there was a much more interesting collection of characters present, notwithstanding those that they would meet along the way.
''So, any idea how long this trip will take?'' Jake let out with a deep sigh.
''WE SHOULD HAVE BROUGHT HORSES. THESE GREEN FIELDS WOULD HAVE BEEN CROSSETH BEFORE THE BREAK OF DAWN. ANY OPPOSITION WOULD HAVE TREMBLED BEFORE US. IT REMINDS ME OF HOME.''
''Wait, you get nostalgic?'' interjected Twain. He cackled, pulled a cigar and a lighter from his jacketpocket and lit it up.
''I get noztalgic too. I miss Berlin in zhe springtime,'' Hitler responded to no one in particular. His goosestepping had by now toned down to a rather weird manner of walking. After several hours of walking, his knees were barely raised higher than normal, but he tried kicking up his feet with each step nevertheless.
''My confession would be that I am completely in the dark as to how long it might take, my friend,'' Hitchens replied.
''Ah well, it is getting dark anyway. Let's stop over there by that little creek, we can get some rest. Adolf, how about you keep first watch?''
''Jawohl! I will make szure that zhe no one passes by here unzeen. Ezpecially ze Russians!''
''Whatever,'' I said, sitting down against a blue tree next to the stream and falling into a deep slumber.
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