If there's a Heaven, it won't be made of clouds. It'll be made of cigar smoke. Thick, white, billowing smoke that you can lounge around in forever. Smoke that smells good to everyone, whether they're the ones puffing away like fiends or not.
In Heaven, you can smoke one cigar after another without worrying about your health, because you're already dead. And without social reprisal, because it's Heaven. Everybody's happy; anything goes.
In Heaven, each cigar tastes as good as the one before, yet subtly different. And when you pick the brand you loved a month ago, it tastes exactly the way you remembered it.
No disappointment. No clouds. Just smoke.
That's heaven.
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