I have often speculated on the nature of heaven, and this time is no exception: I am walking into a movie theatre. Outside is a beautiful marquee, and there is a gentle breeze. They are showing a movie I love, and this will be the 100th time I have seen it. The popcorn looks delicious and fresh, nay, is delicious, and fresh, and of course, I am dead: you have to be dead to get into heaven. Admission is $5, if you go in the afternoons. I will go again, one hundred times more.
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CRISPY GOES AWAY FOR A WHILE IN ORDER TO COMMUNE WITH THE SPIRIT OF LITTLE STEVIE WONDER, CIRCA 1967
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