
You’re at the pearly gates. Saint Peter has one last test for you. It’s your friend, and she’s showing you a picture of a scrawny white guy. “Isn’t he hot?” She asks. You remember suddenly that lying is a sin. Silence falls as you stare at the thin-lipped man before you. A bead of sweat slides down your back.
“Answer her,” Peter says. His eyes are twin suns. “Go on.”
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