Barnett was floating above the operating table. He was looking down at the operating team working frantically to revive him. The surgeon was doing something in his chest. The resident was rubbing the paddles together. Then he yelled "Clear" and put the paddle to Barnett's heart. Barnett saw his body jump. Then the surgeon was back inside his chest. He saw the sponge nurse passing sponges to the surgeon was calling out the count. The surgeon put sponges in and took old ones out and tossed them into a pail or onto the floor, as him aim dictated. The anesthesiologist was messing with his machines and the instrument nurse was slamming instruments into the surgeon’s hand. Another nurse was standing by the door observing and picking her nose and flicking the snot onto the floor. The surgeon ... picking her nose? Hope the ignorant bitch is sterile. The resident yelled "Clear" and the sponge nurse yelled, "Damn it, you made me lose count!" The surgeon hesitated for a moment at that and the paddle doc saw a career move and put the paddle on Barnett. Down came the paddles; up jerked Barnett's body; down went the surgeon. All the way down, as in dead. It went farther down than that too.

The paddle doctor looked at Barnett on the table and the surgeon on the floor. He looked back and forth. It was at this point that Barnett entered the white light again. It was the second time around for Barnett. He was 13 the first time. He was on the ceiling watching the OR staff working on him. It was the same surgeon but no snot-digging nurse. He saw the white light and felt himself floating in it. He was floating down. He didn't know if that meant anything or not. Otherwise, he felt great. No pain and he looked terrific. He had a sense of knowledge and wisdom. He felt serene. Suddenly, everything went black.

"Barnett, wake up. Wake up, honey. Wake up".

Barnett opened his eyes and looked at one ugly nurse. Oh, man, he thought. I went to Hell. Then he heard his mom and dad. Dad might go to Hell but not Mom. She was a saint, a real saint. Barnett told them what happened. He gave then details he couldn't have known. Where everyone was standing and what they were doing. His parents and the nurses were astounded. They called his surgeon in. He listened to Barnett's story and said, "He must not have been all the way under. There's no other explanation".

A little later, Barnett could hear two doctors yelling outside his room. One of them was his doctor.

"What the Hell you mean he wasn't all the way under? He was under all right. In fact, he was dead. You killed that kid. Mr. Surgeon-God, asshole butcher!"

"He couldn't have been, you incompetent moron! You're just an anesthesiologist, not a real doctor. You could have put him to sleep just talking to him. Of course, you'd have put the whole PR staff to sleep too. You should quit testing that gas on yourself", the surgeon yelled back.

"Yea? Maybe so, but I wouldn't have killed that kid, that's for sure!"

"I revived that youngster. I saved his life!"

"Oh, that's big of you considering you killed him in the first damn place, you butcher."

As Barnett floated down in the white light, he felt as serene as he ever had. He was at peace. He felt bad that he was floating down and not up. Yet, he had been no great sinner and didn't expect anything very bad was going to happen to him. Then he noticed, or felt, another presence with him. It was his surgeon. Guess he didn't get revived, Barnett thought. Too damn bad, not that Barnett gave a damn.

"What the Hell is this? Where are we? What‘s this shit about?", the surgeon said.

"Doc, you hit it right. You may notice that we're floating down. Heaven is up, Hell is down. Of course, you might be Catholic and stop off in Purgatory for a while", Barnett explained.

"Catholic!? I'm no Catholic, I'm a Baptist!"

"Then it's straight to Hell for you, doc".

"Hell! I can't go to Hell! I told you I'm a Baptist!"

Then they found themselves at the Gates of Hell. There was a single demon standing there. He was ugly beyond words. He smelled as foul as foul could get. He was one mean looking little shit, that's for sure. Barnett didn't feel any real fear of him. He didn't believe he was any great sinner. He didn't expect to go any lower than Level Two. Now, where did that come from? Then he remembered what he hadn't been able to remember the first time. He had met this same demon at 13. He had been told he'd be in Level Two since he hadn't been any great sinner, to Satan's disappointment.

"Barnett! We thought we had you before but some dumb asshole brought you back to life. This time I think it's for good, well, not good so much as bad. Man, got a mind my damn mouth. Let me look up this dumbass’s doom and we'll have a long chat. You were supposed to be a long time ago but someone pulled you back. Oh, I see. It was this asshole. Okay, what a we have here? Oh, Satan, you devil! Oh, you're gonna love this. You, Barnett, not this dead-meat dickhead. Good news and bad news, doc. The good news is you'll, in spite of pulling Barnett back, out of Satan‘s Domain, away from the Gates of Hell, still be a doctor. Nice, huh? The bad news is, ready for this? The bad part is that you'll be giving rectal exams- with you tongue! Love this one!"

"You can't do that! I'm a Baptist!", the surgeon screamed.

"So are some of your patients!, if you want to call them that. They spend all their time, and they have an eternity of that, getting rectals. Now they have one more doctor to examine them. Incidentally, you have little, sharp spikes on your tongue now. This isn’t some tickle-fest. Go!"

The surgeon had no intention of going but he was going anyway. He had no control. He did have spikes on his tongue and a future as an ass licker.

Barnett went to the House of Hell and got the same table he had the last time. He was sitting with John Lennon and James dean again. Lennon wasn't so bad might Dean was a little hard to take, what with no face and all.

"I always said 'Live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse", Dean said.

"You lived fast and died young but you sure as Hell didn't leave a good-looking corpse. You look like you stuck your face in a meat grinder and turned it on high, Jimmy," Barnett commented

" You little punk son of a bitch. If I could see, I'd kick your little ass for you! No one, not even my mama, ever called me Jimmy. Jimmy Dean is a cornpone singer! I was a star, you asshole!"

Barnett responded with, " I'm six-two and 235, James. Jimmy Dean makes sausages and is richer than sin, if you'll excuse that expression, I mean, being in Hell and all."

"Yea? He made out okay then. I’ll be damned!"

"Uh, you are", Barnett said.

"'e got the notion from your autopsy pics, mate. His sausages look like your face, mate", Lennon said.

"Stick your head up your ass, bastard," Was Dean's response.

Rock Hudson ran over to the table and told Lennon, "Hey, man, you can stick it up my ass! Hell, you could park a truck in my ass."

Barnett was revived again. The surgeon wasn‘t. No one really believed Barnett’s story...except the new Chief Surgeon