Then St. Peter took Bill Gates to hell, and things were quite different that he expected. Instead of the smell of brimstone, there was a warm ocian breeze. They were on a vast beach where everybody was tan, toned and beautiful. Volleyball nets were everywhere, and horned imps were serving tall tropical drinks all around. In the distance, a luau fire was burning. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was back at St. Peter's podium at the entrance of heaven.
"What is your choice, Mr. Gates?" St. Peter asked. Without hesitating, he said, "I'll take hell." The floor vanished beneath him, and after a fall that seemed to last for months, he plunged into a lake of burning sulfur, where a twelve-foot tall demon was dunking lost souls in the flames with a pitchfork. "Wait!" Bill Gates screamed. "Where are all the volleyball players, the drinks, the beach parties?" The demon leaned down and grinned hideously. "Ahh...that was the beta version!"
The "UNOFFICIAL" Bill Gates