Two solicitors came to a sticky end and were slowly making their way up to Heavan. On their way up the great staircase that leads to the Pearly Gates one turned to the other and said, "Look, Piers, I don't care how rare it is for a solicitor to make it up here, if there are any barristers in there, I'm not going in. Especially silks. I'm sick of them all.."

"Agreed, Tarquin," replied the other, "I'm with you all the way on that. I'd rather suffer an eternity in hell than talk to another Q.C."

And so it was that they reached the gate, and with much eyebrow raising by the heavenly host were judged worthy to enter.

"One moment, St. Peter," said Piers as the gates swung wide, "just one thing - We're sick of Barristers - are there any inside? Because if there are, the deal's off..."

"Certainly not!" Cried St. Pete, "You're quite safe - no barristers in here..

" Thus reassured, the two pressed on. They were finding heaven very enjoyable until all of a sudden an ancient looking chap with a long beard, wearing a barristers gown and wig pushed past them, a bundle of papers under one arm and a battered copy of the Weekly reports under the other.. Enfuriated they stormed back to St. Peter. Oi - St. Peter! cried Piers, already drafting his pleadings in his head, "You said there were no barristers here.."

"There aren't," stammered St. Peter "Well who's the silk in with the long beard, then?"

demanded the outraged lawyer.

"Oh," Said St. Peter, realisation dawning, "That's not a barrister! That's God. He just thinks he's a barrister.."