Mike's job wasn't usually this hard. It wasn't usually hard at all. No surprise: people are always really happy to be in heaven. Or at least that what all data showed before the recent entries. Them. Mike didn't hate them per se. At least it was something interesting and novel. But on the flipside, uninteresting and old things are familiar and comfortable. This place was made to be familiar and comfortable. This story wasn't written to have conflict. Hell, this world wasn't even written to be a story. It's a world made to be boring. The requirement for a story is that things have to happen, and nothing ever does here. And it's nice that way, very peaceful. People on Earth don't understand it until they come here, but if you want peace you have to give up a lot. Actual serenity doesn't happen back there, that's just what the world was made to be. But when they have a taste of it, they understand why it's worth the sacrifice of fresh experiences. Usually. 99.99417% of the time, on the dot. He hadn't introduced the newest entries yet, but it's whatever. Time's at a standstill right now, so he can take as much time as he wants. And dammit, he'll need it.