Not sure what everybody is into this weekend, but if you're milling about and have nothing else going on how about pledging your allegiance to Satan?
He's got the whole eternal/after life thing going on too.
Sure, you might not float on a lilly white cloud while angels/strippers fan your ass with palm leaves but he's got things the man upstairs simply doesn't—guns, whiskey and State Fair Food for starters! Need another reason? How about David Koresh? Tell me you wouldn't want to have a conversation with him about Waco in Hell's Snackatorioum.
And what do you have to suffer through? Your own personal definition of hell? For me, that would be trapped in a room full of screaming infants, which the older I get, the more often this keeps happening. So much so, that I've started to deaf from it—its either the babies or all the speed metal and braying of the goats I'm slaughtering in my garage.
Anyway, if anybody needs me, just look for the giant pentagram burning in my lawn.