One of the few statements regarding life as we know it that almost everyone agrees with, is that no one survives it. We all are destined to kick the bucket, buy the farm, push up daisies, bite the dust, give up the ghost, drop dead, or as Old Pete might put it, peg out. No one has yet been shown unequivocally to have avoided the last round-up. There are, however, a great number of theories as to what comes next. These theories range from eternal torment, to eternal bliss, to "there is no next." Jack, had been checked out early due to the intransigence of a hard-headed bit of New Hampshire granite. This caused a tiny flaw in the perfect complexion of the Universe. He is sent back to get straightened out, and is therefore able to relate to us what actually happens after the Big One. Souls are simply grouped in huge waiting rooms, sorted by what they held most most-important in their previous lives. There they await their next shot at a new life. The wait is only a couple of eternities. Meanwhile they exist with those others whose former values were just like their own. Tyrants with tyrants. Saints with saints. Sociopaths with sociopaths, and so on. So, the important question, during that considerable time, ceases to be Why one lived, but rather How.