Satan

So I went to hell. It was pretty fucking fun there. I saw satan. He was pretty fucking stoned. He loves drugs.

Lighting up with the eternal flame, inhaling into his forever cancerous lungs, he dreamed of heaven.

He dreamed of golden streets. Of light from all directions. A light that is, like on earth, part particle and part wave, but a light that is also part love. Satan marinates himself in love-light.

It's so real for him that he even forgets about hell's continual cycle. About how forever his body will burn, just to be replaced with another. His current model was, in fact, almost due for an upgrade.

Heaven is so good in his high little mind that he starts tripping out on repentance.

He ponders the benefits of getting down on his knee. Just a quick little sorry. A cheeky little 'Yeah, about that whole try-and-take-over thing god... Jokes, totes'.

Then, Satan just laughs. It's a cheeky marijuana laugh; a hurting chest as he squeezes out wheezes.

Satan couldn't leave hell, even if repentance did work. Heaven has no drugs.