After the Rapture

I just hope I go to Hell.  At least I will get to meet Voltaire, Thomas Jefferson, Mark Twain, and many, many others.  I will insist on a private audience with Darwin.  I will dine on hot nails with John Huston.  Nietzsche and I will invite Seneca the Younger to hors d'oeuvres of baby piranha fish, washing them down with Vouve Cliquot laced with hydrochloric acid.  I can't wait...well, of course I can wait. At least until Camping's next prophecy.