When it's clear that Peter is dying, Mike visits him every day. One day Mike says, "Peter, we both loved golf all our lives, and we played golf on Saturdays together for so many years. Please do me one favour, when you get to Heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's golf there."
Peter looks up at Mike from his death bed," Mike, you've been my best friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favour for you.
Shortly after that, Peter passes on.
At midnight a couple of nights later, Mike is awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to him, "Mike--Mike."
"Who is it? asks Mike sitting up suddenly. "Who is it?"
"Mike--it's me, Peter."
"You're not Peter. Peter just died."
"I'm telling you, it's me, Peter," insists the voice."
"Peter! Where are you?"
"In heaven", replies Peter. "I have some really good news and a little bad news."
"Tell me the good news first," says Mike.
"The good news," Peter says," is that there's golf in heaven. Better yet, all of our old friends who died before us are here, too. Better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always spring time and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play golf all we want, and we never get tired."
That's fantastic," says Mike. "It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's the bad news?
"You've been booked to play this Saturday."
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