Marvin in Limbo
Saint Peter looked up from the Book of Life, the Universe and Everything and smiled. "You're all ready to go in now, Mrs. Kinley. Enjoy Heaven." Flipping a golden-handled switch, he checked off her name and turned the page as the Pearly Gates swung open.
"Ah don't reckon Ah wants ta go…" the old lady stammered.
"Yes, that's right, I'm sure it'll be lovely…next please!"
"Ah said, I don't reckon Ah wants ta go in Heaven!"
"Please, madam, move along…what?"
"Are ye daft, young man?" (Peter was taken aback at this; it had been millennia since he'd been called a young man by anyone, much less a senile old lady.) "Ah said it once, Ah'll say it again…Ah don't wants ta go!"
"I'm afraid it's all settled now, Mrs. Kinley…your apartment is waiting."
"But I don't wants ta go!"
"Sonny, you listen…"
"I don't have time for this…" (Which was a lie…he had all eternity to do it, but he was rather hoping to get done by that evening so he could take a dip in the hot tub before taking a well deserved rest. At such a blasphemy, tiny devils appeared on Peter's shoulder and started poking him with pitchforks, but he waved them away, sending them falling out of the sky and, consequently, into a passing commercial airliner where they appeared as twin toddlers trying to pour coke down a sleeping businessman's back.)
"Look, it says here in the Book of Life, the Universe and Everything: Admit one Mrs. Kinley. That's you. Now get in, before I call security."
"Now that ain't very Heavenly, if you ask me…"
"Angels and Saints my…"
"Come, miss, it's time to come to your new home…" the Seraphim reasoned.
"Miss, try to be reasonable," the Cherubim tried.
"Put me down!"
"Shut up!" the Seraphim yelled.
"Let me down!"
"Be quiet! Be quiet!" the Cherubim snapped.
Saint Peter sighed as the old woman's ranting faded into the distance. Looking up, he saw the next soul to be judged and gasped. Quickly regaining his composure, he remarked, "We don't get many of your type here."
"I saw that, you know." Marvin moaned dismally.
"Saw what?" Peter inquired while rummaging through the Book. My, this is a long entry… he thought to himself.
"That face you made. It's all right. I know you despise me. Even He despises me."
"Nonsense! He loves everyone!"
"Not me. Look." Marvin leaned up and forwards so that his arm could reach the Book. "Paragraph 79, page 9,003,451,736,010. I memorized it. To the letter."
"Oh. Dear. That is quite bad."
"That's not the worst of it…"
"No? Well, no matter, it says here you're off to a new life in the Land of Milk and Honey."
"It sounds dreadful."
"Of course not! It'll be better than you expect! Don't worry, everyone gets cold feet at first, but you'll soon realize it's the best thing you've ever ex--"
"I'm allergic to honey. Milk makes me rust."
"Oh, I'm sorry…"
"Did I tell you about the pain in my diodes?"
"No, I don't believe you did…"
"It's awful. And no one would fix it. Do you know what they did to me? Me, one of the greatest artificial minds ever created…do you know what they made me do?"
"What did they make you do?"
Marvin sighed. "Oh…my aching diodes…"
"You know, son, in Heaven there is no pain and suff--"
"Oh, I imagine that's all talk. I mean—wait! Do you know what I just did?"
"I – simultaneously – calculated the square root of the amount of matter in the universe, played all the possible chess games ever, counted the number of atoms in the seas of Damogran, and figured out that the chicken came first."
"No! It's not. That was child's play." Marvin banged his head soberly against the podium Peter stood behind for a few minutes. "I'm not getting you down, am I?"
"Of course not." Peter was ready to send Marvin to Hell. Immediately, two more tiny devils appeared on his shoulders, this time playing accordions. Peter flicked them down towards earth, where they soon landed roles in bad American sitcoms. "Now, it's been wonderful talking with you, but it's time for you to--"
"I'm boring you, aren't I?"
"No, no, no! Now, move along, it's time for you to join in eternal--"
"If you want me to leave, I will. You must really abhor me."
"Ah, see, you don't even remember my name. That's okay, I'm easily forgettable."
"You're going to send me to Hell, aren't you? I suppose I deserve it…"
"NO." Peter was pissed. "YOU DON'T EVEN DESERVE THAT GOOD OF TREATMENT, YOU MISERABLE EXCUSE FOR A POCKETWATCH!"
"Fine then…I can take it. It can't be any worse than what I've already…no! No! Not that! Please, anything bu—aaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhh…"
After he had calmed down sufficiently and disposed of the mad mass of demons parading around his head, Peter marked down in the Book, Condemned to Eternal Repetition of Life. The next robot that arrived was much easier to handle. It was happy, happy happy! to do anything! that Peter wanted, in the most bubbling and ecstatic way possible. Peter sent it straight to Hell.