It was Friday night and the whole of downtown Hermosa Beach was astir with commotion because the big day was tomorrow: The Fiesta Hermosa, a complete bacchanalian feast of the senses. I thought it would be good to start things off right since I would nearly be evicted from the fair on Monday…
I approached a grizzled woman in her 60’s smoking a cigarette and taking a break. I handed her a million dollar bill. She remembered me from the last Fiesta on Memorial Day, but had not read the back of the tract; she had given it to her grandchildren. I asked her if she would go to Heaven or Hell when she died and she said, “Heaven.” She thought she was a good person, didn’t lie, but told fibs. She had never stolen anything, nor used God’s name in vain. Before I asked if she would be found guilty or innocent on Judgment Day she interrupted sharply, “I know where this conversation is goin’ Buster, so you just better get on out of here.” Since God gave me the gift of wisdom, I figured it was best to leave. She would play a prominent role in my having an unwanted escort from the fair three days later.
I then walked past the youth hostel above the Dragon Bar and greeted four young people on their way out. They had accents and were from England, Ireland, Australia, and another European country. I handed each of them a million-dollars and asked, “If you were to die today would you go to Heaven or Hell?”
They answered, “Hell.” “Hell.” “Hell.” “Hell.”
With a wink in my voice I said, “No wonder… you’re all from Europe!” No one smiled, especially the Australian.