An accountant dies and goes to Heaven. He is met by St Peter who goes through the usual questionnaire. What sort of accountant are you? says St Peter Public Practitioner, is the reply. Name? He gives his name. St Peter goes through some files and pulls one out. Oh, yes. We've been expecting you. You've reached your allotted span, says St Peter. How can that be? says the accountant. I'm too young to go. I'm only forty-eight No, that's impossible. Why do you say that? Well we've been looking at your time sheets and the hours you've charged your clients. By our reckoning you're at least ninety three.
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