He was a douchebag. Imagine a not-so-good-looking Johnny Bravo kind of guy with a stink-in-the-nose kind of expression at all times. It was a lethal combination. He drove people nuts with his selfies. They were everywhere. On Facebook, every day he stole a quote from Winston Churchill and other badasses and wrote them like he owned him—of course with a picture of himself. He had great things to say about himself. But others had little to say about him. But he was happy. He was happy with his stink-in-the-nose expression. He was happy with the prickly hair sticking out of his ears: he felt they made him look manly. He was happy with the way he burped after every meal: he thought it made his digestive system seem efficient.
One fine day, he drove down to his favourite restaurant at the tip of South Bombay and got himself the choicest Avocado toast in town. It was a sweltering summer afternoon. So he decided to pamper himself with a cool cucumber cooler to go with it. The avocado toast melted in his mouth with a freshness that cleansed his palate while the cooler washed down the appetiser like a beach wave. And while he was on his way back home, he met with a serious accident that made him go off to heaven, in a jiffy.
So on the day of reckoning, when his peers paid for their deeds and misdeeds, he smiled and walked past the gates without much ado. God greeted him as if he would an old friend. And all he said was, “Thank you, for being thankful, my friend. Have I missed much on the Earth?” Mr. wannabe Johnny Bravo guffawed jovially and replied, “Not much. Just the Avo on toast. Gotta try that one.”