Three men stood by the Golden Gate and St. Peter said, “Sorry,
>we’re all filled up so only one of you can come into heaven. So, out
>of you three, the one who had the most tragic death of all may
>enter and the rest of you had better put on some sunscreen.
>
>
>The first man spoke, “Well I am a newlywed and I tend to get jealous of
>my wife and her male friends, so I forbid her to see any of them while I
>was at work. But today I came home early and saw two wine glasses on the
>coffee table and when I asked my wife what was going on, she blushed and
>was silent. I searched the entire house for her male friend and finally
>I spotted someone’s hands grasping the railing on our balcony. In a fit
>of rage I stomped on the hands until the rascal fell 15 stories down
>into the BFI bin below. When I realized he was still alive, I unhooked
>my fridge and threw it over the railing. In the process of doing this, I
>had a heart attack.”
>
>St. Peter replied, “Wow, that’s too bad. Next?”
>
>The second man began to speak, “I am a window washer and I was
>minding my own business and washing the 17th story windows at an
>apartment when my safety rope snapped and I began to fall. I reached out
>and in a stroke of luck, grabbed onto a balcony railing on the 15th
>story. I was trying to catch my breath and waited for someone to rescue
>me when some lunatic started to stomp on my hands until I lost my grip
>and fell into the BFI bin below. I opened my eyes in disbelief only to
>see a fridge come crashing down onto my head.”
>
>St. Peter replied, “My, my... that is bad. Next?”
>
>The third man spoke last, “Well, I was hiding in the fridge when...”
