While walking down the street one day an ' ANC Member of Parliament' is tragically hit by a truck and dies.

His soul arrives in heaven and is met by St. Peter at the entrance.

'Welcome to heaven,' says St. Peter. 'Before you settle in, it seems

there's a slight problem. We're not entirely sure what to do with you.'

'No problem, just let me in,' says the ANC man.

‘Well, I'd like to, but I have orders from higher up. What we'll do is have you spend one day in hell and one in heaven. Then you can choose where you would like to spend eternity.'

'Really, I've made up my mind. I want to be in heaven,' insists the MP.

'I'm sorry, but we have our rules…'

And with that, St. Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down,

down

down to hell. The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush, green golf course. In the distance is a clubhouse and standing in front of it are all his friends and other politicians who had worked with him. Everyone is very happy and in evening dress and they run to greet him, shake his hand, and reminisce about the good times they had while getting rich at the expense of the people.

They play a friendly game of golf and then dine on lobster, caviar and champagne. Also present is the devil, who really is a very friendly & nice guy who has a good time dancing and telling jokes.

He is having such a blast that before he realizes it, it is time to go.

Everyone gives him a hearty farewell and waves while the elevator rises...The elevator goes up, up, up and the door reopens in heaven - where St. Peter's waiting for him.

'Now it's time to visit heaven.'

So, 24 hours pass with the MP joining a group of contented, good souls moving from cloud to cloud, playing the harp and singing. They have a good time and, before he realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by and St. Peter returns.

'Well, then, you've spent a day in hell and another in heaven. Now choose your eternity.'

The MP reflects for a minute, then he answers: 'Well, I would never havesaid it before, I mean heaven has been delightful, but I think I would be better off in hell.'

 So St. Peter obligingly escorts him to the elevator and he goes

down,

down,

down to hell.

Now, unexpectedly the doors of the elevator open and he's in the middle of a barren land covered with waste and garbage. He sees all his friends, dressed in rags, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags as more trash falls from above. The club house has been replaced with shabby low-cost housing and it smells. Bad.

The devil comes over to him and puts his arm around his shoulder. 'I don't understand,' stammers the MP. 'Yesterday I was here and there was a golf course and clubhouse, and we ate lobster and caviar, drank champagne, and danced and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and my friends look miserable.What happened?'

The devil looks at him, smiles and says,

'Yesterday we were

campaigning...

Today you voted.