March 6, 2041: John’s eternal sentence is to sit chained to a desk in a grubby cubicle that smells like the inside of Cheney’s colostomy bag, endlessly preparing legal memos in longhand justifying his mistreatment in Hell, while demonic children chant silly jokes involving his last name — “Hey, yoo-hoo-de-boo-boo!” — and perform “Yoo’s On First” comedy routines unto eternity, with the occasional surprise torture session that doesn’t result in organ failure or permanent disfigurement tossed in to keep him on his toes.