One day in the future, Bill Clinton has a heart attack, dies prematurely —
and goes straight to Hell. The Devil greets him, but says “I don’t know
exactly what to do with you. Of course you are on my list, so you will have
to stay — but you got here a little earlier than I expected and I don’t have
your room ready yet.”
The Devil thinks for a moment and says, “Tell you what I can do. There are a
couple folks here who weren’t quite as bad as you were. I can let one of them
go so long as you take their place. I’ll even let you decide who gets to
Clinton thought that sounded pretty good, so the Devil opened the first room.
In it was Ted Kennedy and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and
surfacing empty handed. Over and over and over. Such was his fate in hell.
“No,” Bill said. “I don’t think so. I’m not a good swimmer and I don’t think
I could be doing that all day long.”
The Devil led him to the next room. In it was Newt Gingrich with a
sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, over
and over again.
“No, I’ve got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if
all I could do was break rocks all day,” said Bill.
The devil opened a third door. In it, Clinton�saw Jesse Jackson, lying on the
floor with his arms staked over his head, and his legs staked in a spread
eagle position. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best.
His eyes widening in disbelief, Clinton grinned as he took in the whole
picture and said, “Oh yea, I know can handle this.”
The Devil nodded and smiled. “OK, Monica, you’re free to go!”