Today at Sunday School, Mrs. Pearson beed teachin' us alls 'bout we gottsa make a choose for where we's gonna go when we bees dead. Seem like there bees a dead dog elebator what can goes way, way sky high into Heaven; an' ya gits to fly aroun' all day long in the clouds an' stuff. Else, the elebator gonna go down, down into the Fiery Spits a Hell; which, Clive sayed what it prawly bees too hot for to take any bideo games there. Then, thirdy, there bees Bimbo in atween the two a them. The dead dog elebator man gonna tole ya if you has beed good or bad; an' then take ya up or down; or in atween if God gottsa think on it for a bit. Me an' Clive has besided for to go to Bimbo so's we can still play our games; an' plus, then we don't all a time has to share, an' be nice, an' listen at our Mommas. All a childrens was tellin' Mrs. Pearson, oh, I is gonna try so hard for to git to Heaven, Mrs. Pearson! I tole her what me an' Clive wanna go to Bimbo. She jus' sayed, that bees fine, George. I thinks what she bees startin' to like me!