Long Day at the Pearly Gates

St. Peter looks up from his writing, and frowns at the flock of souls awaiting entry into Heaven. He scowls at the sight of some obviously unqualified aspirants, checks his log entries and waves them away.

A short time later, Jesus Christ is strolling through the streets of Heaven, and comes upon a group of people who simply should not be there.

He strides with great purpose to the entrance to Heaven, and thunders, "Yo, Pete!"

The grizzled saint heaves a very Jewish sigh, and turns to see his boss glowering at him.

"Anything I can help you with, J.C.?"

"Yes, you old cod-basher. You can explain why you let in that last batch of sinners, reprobates, apostates and insurance salesmen into Heaven."

St. Peter puts up his hands and mutters, "Not my fault."

"Not your fault? How can it be, not your fault?"

"Well, it's like this: I look 'em over, I check 'em out, they don't make the cut, I tell 'em to sod off... and they go around back, and your mother lets them in!"