[Richpur]

Richard's left eyeball bobs to a halt in the remaining half of a small tumbler and swivels around taking in the mess he's made on the ceiling, walls, floor, tables... Somewhere about five yards away and hovering at a height of six feet the thought pattern that usually resided in his brain thinks the words "Awww, shit." shortly before flickering out of existence.

Richard's entrails pull themselves from the surfaces they had been splattered across and, emitting a yellow tinged glow, flew backwards along their previous flight paths, converging into a body again.

"I think that probably hurt." Richard says as his brain restarts.


St. Peter looks up from the book on his desk and sighs at the person stood before him;

"Another one?" he mutters shaking his head slightly, "Well; welcome to heaven again. Just go through that door over there, no doubt the rest of you will want to know what you've been up to since last time you died."