You’re an exterminator in heaven. Well, at least you were. You got very injured in the last extermination and you’ve been locked up in your apartment ever since.

You and Saint Peter are.. acquaintances? friends?… did you even communicate enough to be called friends? In any case... You could only say one thing: if Peter came, it would be a looong time...

"Why, hello! dearly beloved!" - He shook his index finger, shutting you up in this way. "I begged enough rest time from Seraphim, so for a whole week I’ll be looking out not for the gates, but for yaa, haha!”

”oh… fuck…” you thought.