Three men arrive in heaven at the same time. St. Peter comes out to greet them.

"Sorry about this guys," says St. Peter. "God didn't realize just how many people would get into heaven, so we have a new policy. You now have to tell me the story of how you died, and if I think it's sad or interesting enough, I'll let you in."

He walks up to the first man who is a nerdy, bookish sort in a bad business suit and says, "Tell me your story."

"Okay," says the man. "I thought I had a wonderful life. I had a beautiful wife and we had a lovely place on the 34th floor of an apartment building. I came home from work early today, and I saw my beautiful wife sleeping naked in bed with another man's clothes on the floor. So of course I started looking for the bastard who slept with my wife."

"Like I said, I lived in an apartment. There weren't that many places to hide, but I couldn't find him anywhere! Just when I was about to go confront my wife, I see him. The bastard was hiding outside the window, holding onto the windowsill. I go up to him and started stomping on his hands over and over again, but he wouldn't let go. I finally kicked him in the face and he fell. Unfortunately, he landed on a bush and bounced to safety. In my anger, I grabbed my refrigerator and throw it out after him. However, the cord from the refrigerator wrapped around my leg and pulled me to my death."

St. Peter nods and says, "You're story is acceptable. Welcome to heaven." He goes to the second man a brawny working-man type and says, "What's your story?"

"I'm a window washer," says the man. "I've been a window washer for over 20 years. Well today, I'm washing the windows of the 35th floor of this apartment building when my scaffolding breaks. I thought I was going to die, but I manage to catch myself on the windowsill of the story below. All of a sudden this maniac comes out and starts mashing my fingers. I try my best to hold on, but he kicks me in the face and I fall. Once again, I thought I was going to die, but I land on this hedge and bounce away no worse for the wear. I look up and BOOM. Dead. Last thing I saw was a refrigerator."

St. Peter holds back a chuckle and lets him into heaven. He goes to the third man, a ridiculously handsome fellow with sandy-blonde hair, and asks, "What's your story?"

"Alright," says the man. "Picture this. You just got finished banging some dude's wife. He comes home. You hide in the refrigerator."