Two young men were in their apartment together, laying about on an extended couch. The windows were closed, so were the doors, and the air-conditioning was off.

A steamy haze hung in the air like morning fog. Well, it’ was evening, but “evening fog” didn’t have the same nuance as “morning fog”. Don’t question the narrator’s word choice.

Anyway...

“Yoooooo~” Groaned the first man in a tone of chemically-induced laziness.

The second man turned his head to point his glassy eyes at the first one.

“What’s up bro?” He asked.

“Bro.” Said the first man.

It seemed his friend’s reply hadn’t registered.

The second man repeated himself.

“What?”

“You ever wonder... where your fingers are?”

The second man turned his head back to the ceiling. His few functioning brain cells attempted to drudge back memories of a certain you-tuber, but failed.

“Sometimes.” The second man replied after a few moments.

“Honestly, same bro.”

“Yeah. I can’t even see my fingers. Too many eels in the way.”

Indeed. The second man was having visions. Wormlike creatures with circular mouths filled with needles. They danced in and out of his mind, going in one ear and out the other. He thought they felt groovy.

The first man seemed to disagree though.

“Eels?... Bro, those are frick’n elephant trunks or something.”

The first man couldn’t see the whole bodies of the elephants, of course. Too much smog in the air. But their trunks were certainly in view.

“Dude... elephants are, like, totally weird man. Their ears are huuuge.” Said the second man.

“So’re their dicks.”

The second man wondered why the first man knew that, but decided it wasn’t important. What was, was their code of bro-Dom, of which had the clause: “Do not talk about elephant genitalia.”. Even when hopped up on the good shit, he remembered the code. All good bros did.

“We don’t talk about the dicks, bro.” He scolded.

“Yeah, sorry, sorry... I almost forgot.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

The first bro laughed.

“I don’t think I even could, man. We ain’t got nothing to worry about!”

The second joined in.

“Ha ha, yeah. That’s true.”

Their laughter died down, leaving wide, hazy smiles on their faces. It was common knowledge that when you were on the good stuff, worry was a foreign concept.

And boy, did they have a lot of the good stuff.

“Bro,” Said the first man. “You want another hit? I think I got some more shit under the sink. It’s probably good.”

“Sure bro.”

The first man slowly rose from the couch, and stumbled over to where he thought the kitchen was.

Unfortunately, at that moment a Roomba that was cleaning the apartment had crossed into the first man’s drunken path. The man tripped over the whirring machine and fell, banging his head on the pointy edge of the kitchen’s counter. As his head snapped backwards, skin broke and blood flowed.

Over on the couch, the second man didn’t hear the dull thump of his bro’s comatose, bleeding body hitting the floor. He was too blitzed out for that.

No EMS was called. There was no trip to the hospital.

Just a comatose man bleeding out on the floor with no help coming.

And so the first man died on that floor. He died breathing the dust off the hardwood, incapable of lamenting his bad luck due to all the foreign chemicals in his system. At least he didn’t suffer.

It was too bad he never made it to the sink. That second hit would have been divine.

Oh well.

---------

He woke up with a start. Or at least a jerky, jolting movement. The word “start” was rather vague.

Said jerky movement was a consequence of suddenly finding himself in control of all his mental faculties. After all, he wasn’t used to being completely sober. High and/or drunk was how he usually rolled.

Not that he was sure that he was sober. After all, it was hard to believe that you weren’t under the influence when you just woke up in a completely blank space extending away from you for eternity.

With nothing but a chair and a desk.

A desk at which sat a man in a pinstriped suit. The name-plaque on the desk identified the suit as “Daniel Albert”.

“Jimmy Buffet. I would say that I am pleased to meet you, but I’m really not.” Said the suit.

Jimmy had no problem believing him. The man's skin was pale and clammy and his eyes had deep, dark bags hanging beneath them. The poor man looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Hey man, I don’t know if any of this is real, but you look like you could use some sleep.” Said Jimmy.

Daniel let out a bark of laughter.

“Isn’t that the case? I suppose I don’t look properly presentable right now, but it can’t be helped. I have a job to do after all.”

The suit’s smile dropped off of his face and he leaned forwards menacingly, tapping his pen on the desk in front of him.

“And my job involves directly deciding your fate, Jimmy Buffet. I abhor wasting time, so let’s get this show on the road.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jimmy put his hands up in surrender to Daniel’s sudden aggressiveness.

“Chill man. It’s all good. Let’s get this show on the road, like you said.”

Daniel settled down, a regretful look on his face.

“Yes... I apologize for my rudeness. But anyways, to start, I will let you know why you are here.”

He cricked his neck.

“To put it simply, you are dead, and it is my job to make sure you are reincarnated into a different world. I will be asking you a few questions and having you spin a wheel. None of this is negotiable.”

Jimmy didn’t really understand. The suit guy said he was dead? He didn’t feel very dead.

In fact, he was surprisingly clear-headed in a way he hadn’t been in a long, long time. There were no cravings muddling his thoughts and his body felt lighter than ever. If he was dead, then he sure didn’t mind.

Well, if he was dead then he probably wouldn’t be seeing his bro again. That was just... too bad.

Jimmy’s head drooped sadly at realizing this.

“Okay.” He replied to Daniel. “I believe you. Give me the questions.”

The beginnings of a smile appeared on Daniel’s fatigued face.

“To start off, in a short few words, please describe your vision of the ‘ideal person’.”

Jimmy grasped his chin. He’d never really thought about it before.

A billionaire? A scientist? An artist?

What did ideal person even mean?

He’d just take his answer off the top of his head.

“I guess the ideal person is someone who knows a lot of stuff and knows how to make money off of it.”

Daniel nodded, and scratched on a notebook with a pen.

“Next question: what is your favorite story genre?”

Jimmy quirked his mouth to the side in confusion. He hadn’t read a book in years.

He wondered if movies counted. Those told stories too, after all.

What were the genres again? There was action, soap operas, spy, thrillers...

He had always liked action movies. They were simple and easy to understand. Gunfights, car-chases, and explosions always added that extra excitement to the plot that would otherwise be boring without.

And let’s be real. Explosions were always cool.

“Action, I guess. I like explosions.”

A ‘hmm’ was heard, and Daniel jotted that down in his notebook too. The tired, suited man then frowned, erased something, and rewrote it. It was weird that a pen had an eraser, but Jimmy didn’t question it. He’d seen weirder things while high.

Daniel finished his writing quickly though, and continued with the interview.

“Alright then, last question. In your life, what do you think you could have done better, if given the chance to redo it all?”

Jimmy paused. The previous two questions had been weird, but they weren’t ‘Ghost of Christmas Past’ weird. Was he going to have to evaluate his life choices and think about all the times he’d fucked up?

Fat chance. There were too many to count.

First there was his asshole dad. Then the bullies at school. Then the gangs and the drugs, and it was all downhill from there. To be honest, after the gangs had happened to him, there was no more college to look forward to. No more gainful employment or decent living. Years after a nearly-missed high-school graduation, he’d found himself high, drunk, and living in squalor.

And now that he was probably dead...

“Shit man, I don’t know... I wouldn’t do drugs? I would stay in school?” He let out a laugh. “There’s a lot I could’ve done differently. Doesn’t really change how it all panned out.”

Daniel pursed his lips and rubbed his eyes.

“I understand how you feel, Jimmy, but I need an answer from you. It doesn’t need to be a long, or well thought-out one, but I do need it.”

Jimmy hung his head, desperately thinking about his life and introspecting in a way he never had before.

Gangs, drugs, and alcohol. All those years ago, he hadn’t said no out of fear for what would happen to him and his bro. But if he had...

“Okay. I guess...” He brought his head up, a light of understanding in his eyes. “If I could do it over again, I’d try to be braver. Have some more spine, you know? It’s hard to control your life if you’re a yes-man.”

Daniel nodded again, and noted Jimmy’s reply.

“Well, that’s all the questions I needed.” Said Daniel. “All that’s left-” The man in the suit snapped his fingers and a pie-chart wheel appeared. “-is to spin the wheel.”

Jimmy stepped back in alarm. A giant, multicolored pie-wheel with incomprehensible labels on each slice had appeared out of thin air, right in front of him. It was quite the shock.

He took a moment to recollect his composure.

“You want me to spin that?” He asked once he got over his shock.

Daniel nodded in affirmation.

“Yes. Once you’ve spun it, our little meeting here will be over.”

“Well, okay then.”

Jimmy spun the wheel, giving it a nice, firm push. Fast enough to be random, slow enough as to avoid breaking it.

But despite his considerations, the wheel spun much faster than he had intended, to the point that its speed was obviously unnatural. Its apparent speed didn’t seem to be straining the contraption in any way though, so he supposed it was fine.

He waited ten seconds, but the spinning didn’t get any slower. Another ten, and still nothing changed.

“This may take a while.” Said Daniel. He gestured to the chair in front of his desk. “You can take a seat if you want. In fact, I advise it.”

“Uh, okay.”

Jimmy sat. The chair was plush and comfy, nicely conforming to his butt and back. He wished he owned one of these.

“Where’d you get this chair from?” He asked.

Daniel looked up from his papers, surprised. His face then scrunched up as he tried to retrieve the memory.

“I bought it... at this old store a few decades ago. A coworker of mine had kindly recommended it, as she had worked there before joining Ferryman.co. At the time, I had just started out in this job and felt that this office-” He waved his arms at the infinite white expanse around them. “-needed some furniture. So I bought that chair you are sitting in.”

Jimmy nodded in understanding.

“Well, it’s a really good chair. I’m glad you got it.”

Daniel smiled.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that. Clients like you are what I bought it for, after all.”

“Do you remember the name of... actually never mind.”

Jimmy was about to ask for the name of the store the chair had been bought from, but then realized that since he was going to be reincarnated in a different world, he probably wouldn’t ever be able to visit the store, much less buy anything from it.

And wasn’t that a thought. He was leaving his world behind. He was dead.

No pearly gates or hellfire and brimstone as he had been promised. Just this... infinite office and a tired, sleepy man. Did this mean his religion was wrong?

Well, he had never really been super religious in the first place. Learning that Christianity was wrong was hardly a world-breaking revelation to him.

It was saddening though, being dead.

His life hadn’t been the best in the world or anything, but he had still preferred to live, rather than die. Even if it had appealed to him sometimes, he wasn’t suicidal.

Oh well.

Jimmy forced a smile, and continued the conversation to take his mind off of things.

“So what’s your work like? You said you had a coworker?”

“Yes, Miss Uslu." Said Daniel. "She’s getting on in age, but is still a rather fun woman to be around. She actually used to work in soul facilitation like me, but decided that universal analysis was more her speed. She works at Overmind.co now, crunching numbers.”

“You ever talk?” Asked Jimmy.

“Sometimes. I’ve occasionally seen her at company meetings and get-togethers. She doesn’t care much for loud environments though. A bit of a shame, as her sense of humor is always welcome at our parties. But everyone has their preferences.”

Jimmy nodded. He knew people like that. He remembered AJ, from his old group. The thief was a weird, withdrawn guy, but when he talked people listened because they knew he usually had something important or funny to say.

“Yeah, I knew guys like that. There was a dude in our old crew, AJ, who-” *Ding*

At that moment, Jimmy was awkwardly interrupted by an odd ringing noise. It sounded a little like his old toaster.

“Ah, the wheel must be finished spinning.” Daniel explained. “I’m sorry to interrupt your story, but we should go see what the verdict is.”

“Right.” Jimmy said, disappointed.

Both the dead man and the suited man stood from their seats and walked over to the wheel.

In bright blue characters, the words: Worldly Warthog were profoundly displayed on one of the pie-wheel’s slices.

“What do the words mean?” Asked Jimmy.

Daniel snorted.

“Who knows. They’re vague on purpose.”

The dead man frowned.

“So they don’t mean anything?”

Daniel shrugged.

“I never stated that they mean nothing. All they indicate is that your next life will have something to do with worldliness, warthogs, or both. Beyond that, no one will know until you’ve lived it out.”

Jimmy rubbed his chin.

“Well, alright then. Does that mean we’re done? ‘Cause if we are, then I want to say I’m happy to have talked to you.”

Daniel smiled, some life returning to his pale, weary face.

“Yes, we are done and I will send you off now. And thank you for saying so. It’s rare that I meet a client who is as... chill as you are.”

Jimmy smiled back.

“Aw, thanks man.”

Still smiling lightly, Daniel shook his head and snapped his fingers. A black crack in reality widened in front of him.

“Please, step through.” He directed.

Jimmy, who was standing straight in shock, was jolted out of his surprise by the other man’s words. It wasn’t every day that he saw something so blatantly supernatural.

“Y- you want me to just... step through?” He asked.

Daniel nodded.

“That is what I said.”

“Okay... alright then.”

Jimmy stepped up to the crack, and looked back at Daniel.

“Bye man.” He said.

The suit simply waved in return.

Jimmy turned back to the rift, gulped, and stepped through of his own accord.

His world turned dark.