LogFAQs > #930408916

Kathy frowns. "You're already dead in real life."
"Right, but what if I go back to real life and die again?" you clarify.
"I don't understand."
You start to pace. "I'm already dead. If I die again on Earth, am I in limbo? Like... like Cobb?" you shed a single tear.
"Who the hell is Cobb?" Kathy asks.
You sniffle and wipe your nose with your sleeve. "Dammit, Kathy! Watch Inception! I didn't fully understand it ten years ago and my understanding wanes with each passing day!"

Per Kathy's advice, you head down to wardrobe before launching yourself back to Earth. You grab a cough syrup and crab legs smoothie on the way down to calm your nerves. The wardrobe department is behind a closed door at the end of a long hallway. A tall, lanky man stands leaning against a wall just outside the door. You walk up beside him and also throw your back against the wall. "Are you the clothes man?" you ask clumsily.
He shakes his head. "First time, I'm assuming?"
You nod.
"Thought so," he confirms, outstretching his hand. "I'm Val."
You accept his handshake. "Sam."
"Nervous?" Val asks.
"A little," you admit. "I don't really know what happens if you die on Earth. You ever done it?"
"We all did, mate. This is heaven," Val responds as frustratingly unhelpful as Kathy did.
"No, like... if we die again-"
"I know what you mean, brotha," Val chuckles. "You just wake up at home in bed. Right back in heaven."
You bring a hand to your chest and smile. "Oh man, what a relief! I was worried I was going to end up like Cobb."
"Cobb wasn't in limbo though," Val argues.
"Wha- how do you... how long has it been since you've seen Inception?"
"Probably ten years now. Nolan left it up to the viewer's interpretation, love," Val replies.
You roll your eyes. That's a fucking non-answer if you've ever heard one. "So what are you waiting for?" you motion toward the door.
"The wardrobe manager will only see one person at a time. If you're going down to Earth, you need to build a character. What do you look like? What are you wearing? Why are you wearing what you're wearing?" Val swoons. "He's the best of the best."
"So you do this often, I take it?" you squint.
Val looks down the hallway to see if the coast is clear. "All the fucking time," he whispers. "Management is so busy looking at the prayers you do approve, they're not looking at the ones you don't."
"I don't follow," you respond.
"We can go to and from Earth any time we want." Val winks. "And since we're already dead, nothing that we do down there has any consequence on us. Every day I go to a nihilistic version of Earth to do whatever I want, then when I need some rest and relaxation, I come on back up to heaven. I haven't granted a prayer in months. Hell, I've probably been the cause of many of the prayers in this system."
You are a little intrigued, but mostly horrified. "How are you getting away with this?"
"Because they aren't looking, mate," Val smiles. "You select the dumbest prayer you can to research, then zap on down. While you're down there you can snort some uppers, punch a fire station's dalmatian, and shit in a taxi if you want to. Then you just beam yourself back up and say, 'Wow, after heavy deliberation, I guess Brenda didn't really need a higher speed setting on her blender'. Then you fuck off to enjoy the wonders of paradise before doing it all again."
You excitedly sip your smoothie. It seems all your avenues of heavenly negligence have not been exhausted.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.