Spot on, Bob. A similar story concerns the jazz musician who dies and goes to hell. He arrives and is directed to his dressing room, where an original, mint Selmer Mk. 6 tenor sax is handed to him. He changes into a brand new tuxedo and is ushered onto the stage in a state of the art 10,00 seater concert hall. Looking round the band, he spies a Who's Who of jazzers assembled around him. Bird, Dizzie, Monk, they're all there. "Wow", he thinks. "If this is hell, I'm glad I didn't behave while I was alive." The lights go down, the audience goes quiet and the devil appears on the conductor's rostrum. Smiling at the band, he says, "OK, guys. Let's start with the Birdie Song. One, two, three..."
You have to suffer a bit to appreciate the good times.