Instructions for reading: Please read the following, either by mind or by voice, in a highly aristocratic accent; it may be the difference between imagining a jackass/bitch rather than a snob.
       If you like you may hold up your hand in an ‘O’ shape and pretend you’re wearing a monacle.
       
       “Now, when I arrive I expect there to be refreshments, and tiny tea cakes, and a nice-OW! Stop that incessant poking. What the devil, no pun intended, is that thing anyway, is that a trident? I can’t believe Hell still uses something so ancient! How barbaric.
       I said, now I said STOP poking me. I’m staying for eternity sooner or later so I might as well be allowed to go as fast as I please. And when I get to the gates could you please ask them to take away the dog, Cebreus, Cerebellum, whatever the devil its name is-no, stop giggling; it really wasn’t all that funny in the first place and it still isn’t intentional- anyway I’d like it gone from my sight, please. After spending so many summers with Uncle Beelzebub and his literal menagerie of mutts I just can’t stand the sight of them. Don’t you think they smell positively rank? And whatever does your lot do with the mess? Oh, oh I see, you apply it.  In what way did you say? On where?! Blimey that sounds like torture. Oh. Well yes, I know this is hell, I was only trying to keep up a polite response in the conversation--how now what’s this? Yes I know it’s Hell, thank you, but look at the arterial splatter staining these walls! You could at least make an effort to brighten up the place, don’t you think? Maybe some china, a fine cherry wood entry table--
       Come to think of it, I could really kill for a nice cup of tea right about now. . . . Really? Oh, no I couldn’t, I mean I want to but now is hardly the time to stop. Hmm, but when you’re right you’re right: there’s always time for tea. Well, how about that one? No, look further, the bloke getting a poker to his twig n’ berries, right over there against the wall.  Me? No thank you, no trident for me today- I just got this waistcoat cleaned you see, but you go right ahead. Oh, but do be sure not to go and make a mes-oh you made a mess. Well don’t waste, him, man! Come along, now, go on! Squeeze him over the cup before he goes cold!
       Ahhh, yes. Yes that’s quite good. Just how mother used to make it.  Might I have a crumpet to go along with- No? but- Yes I know, hell and all, but truly they would go smashingly well together. I think you’d actually enjoy a nip yourself. But do I really have to go? I don’t quite see why, I’m not the one poking and flaying and burning blokes alive and-BLOODY HELL YOU SPILT IT! You really spilt it, you did. Savages, real savages, you lot. Always ruining a good decent cup, and not even leaving a mouthful to sip! Now see here! . . . No, hey now wait a moment. I was only pulling your leg. Please don’t, I haven’t even finished a good cup yet and – bugger off, I already told you to stop boinking me with that thing!—really, I’ll be better, I swear. Really! Please stop shoving no I don’t want to leave no I don’t want NO!!----“

. . . Is . . . is he finally gone?
Yes.
Oh thank God.