A Fish Without a Bicycle

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After I died I rose to the ceiling, like a helium balloon. 
My family gathered around my deathbed, saying nice things about me and dabbing their eyes.   I floated to the family room where they said less complimentary things about me.  My grandson looked up, waved and said: ‘Goodbye Gran.’  It was time to go.
Jacob’s Ladder was a long hard slog but I got there.  At the top I was met by a bouncer, square, dressed in black and with a face like a pit bull terrier.  He had a love heart tattoo on his neck.
            ‘Ratings? What do you mean?’
            ‘D’you never watch Strictly?’
            ‘Nah, I prefer a good book.’
            ‘Oh for Pete’s sake:  not another intellectual.  Through here please.’  He pointed to a narrow gate, set in a wall with different doors in all the colours of the rainbow.
I went through and followed the light in the tunnel.  Around the bend I saw the Golden Throne.  A woman sat on it; knitting a sock and a cat on her lap.  She had a homely face and alert, piercing blue eyes.
‘Bit of a surprise, isn’t it?  Yep, I am the Big Man, of sorts.  You should see the cardinals when they come through here.  Hissing like snakes.  Can’t stand that it’s our turn for eternity.’
‘And the Popes?’
She touched her nose and winked.  ‘They know.  But you should see the other party.  They expect seven virgins.’  She grinned.  ‘They get the Chippendales.’ 
She pointed to a little house. ‘That’s yours.  You’ll find books, wine, bread and cheese and there is more where it comes from.  Like the Wedding in Canaan.’
I went in and it was very pleasant indeed.

Now if this was a story, I would wake up.
But you know, I didn’t.

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Thank you! Be your nose a pointer for your brain! (OED)

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