Bartholomew Buttonsby, a renowned clog dancer known more for his enthusiasm than his grace, shuffled through the pearly gates. He’d always imagined Heaven as a celestial tap-dancing extravaganza, but instead, he found himself in a surprisingly mundane waiting room, filled with fluffy clouds and… surprisingly, a lot of paperwork.
An angel with a clipboard, looking remarkably like his grumpy accountant, approached. “Bartholomew Buttonsby? Right, you’re… uh… overdue for your celestial orientation.” He tapped a pen against the cloud-like desk. “It seems there’s been a bit of a… scheduling mix-up.”
Bartholomew, clutching his beloved clogs, replied, “A mix-up? I’ve been practicing my heavenly heel-toe for decades! I’ve got my celestial clogs here, ready to go!” He jiggled them excitedly.
The angel sighed. “Well, the celestial clog dancing troupe… they’re on indefinite hiatus. Apparently, Saint Peter developed a rather severe case of… stage fright.”
Bartholomew’s jaw dropped. “Stage fright? Saint Peter? The guy who *judges* souls?!”
The angel nodded, flipping to another page. “Yes, and it seems his replacement, a rather enthusiastic but tone-deaf cherub named Kevin, is more into interpretive interpretive dance using only marshmallows.”
Bartholomew stared blankly. Then, a mischievous grin spread across his face. “Marshmallows, you say? I have a few ideas…” He winked, already envisioning a new, stickier, and far more chaotic heavenly dance routine. Heaven’s awkward reunion? It was about to get a whole lot stickier.
