Local Man Announces Plans to Build “Personal Heaven” Featuring Blackjack, Hookers, and Lucifer as Concierge: “Finally, a Faith-Based Experience With Better Parking”
PANDÆMONIUM HEIGHTS— In what theologians are calling “the boldest zoning application since the Tower of Babel tried to go mixed-use,” a local man has announced his intention to build his own heaven—complete with blackjack, hookers, and a guest appearance from Lucifer—after reportedly concluding that the traditional afterlife “lacks amenities, clear signage, and a compelling rewards program.”
The statement, delivered with the confidence of a man who has never once read the terms and conditions of eternity, has already sparked a nationwide debate about personal salvation, recreational gambling, and whether the Prince of Darkness is even available for event staffing on weekends.
“I’m just saying, if it’s supposed to be paradise, why does it sound like a library with a dress code?” the aspiring heaven-builder said, gesturing toward a conceptual blueprint consisting of a halo, a neon sign reading WELCOME TO THE AFTERLIFE (NOW WITH DEALERS), and a suspiciously detailed sketch of a velvet rope. “My heaven is going to be fun. Also, you’ll be able to smoke in some areas. I’m not a monster.”
A New Vision for Eternity: Less Harps, More House Edge
According to documents hastily posted to social media and immediately plagiarized by at least three lifestyle influencers, the proposed “DIY Heaven Resort & Casino” aims to solve what the founder describes as “the biggest problem with the current heaven model: too much eternal, not enough return.”
Key features of the new paradise reportedly include:
Blackjack tables with “angelic” minimums and “divine” maximums, meaning the limits change depending on your moral credit score and whether the dealer “likes your vibe.”
Hookers, which project managers insist are being rebranded as “freelance companionship consultants” in order to “keep it classy and avoid upsetting the cherubs.”
Lucifer, slated to appear in a rotating role as concierge, maître d’, and occasional DJ—depending on his availability and whether he’s still shadow-banned from several celestial platforms.
Asked whether recruiting Lucifer might create “brand confusion” in a heaven-themed establishment, the founder waved away concerns.
“Look, I’m not saying Lucifer is good,” he clarified. “I’m saying he understands hospitality. You don’t run a multi-millennia operation without learning how to greet people at the door.”
Lucifer Responds: “I’m Just Happy To Be Invited Somewhere That Isn’t A Cautionary Tale”
Reached for comment, Lucifer—described by witnesses as “well-dressed, mildly exhausted, and carrying a clipboard that looked ominously expensive”—confirmed his interest in the role, provided certain demands were met.
“I’m not doing coat check again,” Lucifer said. “The last time I hosted anything, everyone blamed me for their poor decisions. Do you know how insulting it is to be held responsible for human impulse control?”
Lucifer also requested that the venue’s marketing materials stop using the phrase “sinfully good deals,” calling it “tired,” and suggested a more modern campaign focusing on “ethical temptation” and “sustainable wrongdoing.”
“Frankly,” he added, “if you’re going to build a paradise with blackjack, at least offer decent ventilation. The real hell is a poorly designed floor plan.”
Theologians Alarmed; Casino Industry Surprisingly Supportive
Religious scholars were quick to respond, with one seminary professor describing the plan as “the most ambitious heresy in recent memory,” while also admitting, quietly, that “the blackjack element is at least thematically consistent with the human condition.”
“It’s the classic problem,” said Dr. Marlene Voss, a theologian specializing in eschatology and customer satisfaction. “People want salvation, but they also want to bring snacks. This proposal is essentially a subscription service for transcendence.”
Meanwhile, the casino industry expressed cautious optimism.
“We respect anyone willing to innovate in the spiritual leisure space,” said a spokesperson for the International Association of Highly Confident Lounges. “Also, if he needs help designing a rewards program, we already have one that makes people feel like winners while slowly converting their future into chips.”
The Hooker Logistics: HR Nightmare or “Heavenly Flexibility”?
While the founder’s announcement focused heavily on the “hookers” portion of the plan—because no one has ever said the word “blackjack” and gotten the same engagement—labor experts warn that celestial HR may not be prepared.
“Who’s handling consent policies in a metaphysical environment?” asked workplace consultant Denise Hall. “Do the hookers get paid in money, virtue points, or untraceable blessed tokens? Are there benefits? Is there a dental plan? Eternity is a long time to go without dental.”
Organizers insist that everything will be “fully consensual, fully professional, and tastefully ambiguous,” adding that any depiction will remain “PG-13 in spirit, R-rated only in the sense of ‘Reserved.’”
The founder also promised a “strict no-creep policy,” though critics note that this is the first time those words have ever appeared anywhere near the concept of eternity.
Heaven’s Existing Management Releases Statement: “We Have Harps For A Reason”
Representatives for the traditional Heaven brand issued a brief but pointed statement reminding the public that paradise is not “a customizable entertainment package.”
“Eternal peace has served billions for centuries,” the statement read. “We do not offer blackjack because we do not endorse the idea that joy should depend on probability. We also do not offer hookers because we encourage love that is not transactional. We do, however, offer community, purpose, and a sense of belonging—plus unlimited light.”
At press time, Heaven’s spokesperson added, “Also, please stop calling our aesthetic ‘aggressively beige.’ It is radiant.”
The Construction Timeline: “As Soon As I Figure Out How To Buy Land In The Afterlife”
Despite the confident rollout, the project’s practical details remain unclear. When asked about funding, the founder said he is “exploring options,” including crowdfunding, spiritual venture capital, and a scheme involving “selling naming rights to the clouds.”
He also confirmed that he has not yet secured a location.
“It’s tricky,” he admitted. “Every time I search for property, it’s either too heavenly or too hellish. I need something in the middle. Like purgatory, but with better cocktails.”
Lucifer, for his part, recommended a soft launch.
“Start small,” he advised. “A pop-up heaven. A limited-time eternity. See how it goes. The worst thing that can happen is you create a realm that traps souls in an endless cycle of comped drinks and regret, which—just to be clear—is not my department anymore.”
Community Reaction: 40% Enthusiasm, 60% “That’s Not How Any Of This Works”
Public response has been mixed, with supporters praising the plan as “finally an afterlife that respects personal branding,” while skeptics pointed out that “the entire point of heaven is that it’s not built by a guy who just discovered slogans.”
One resident called the project “a powerful statement about autonomy,” while another said, “This is just Las Vegas with extra steps and less oxygen.”
A third observer summarized the prevailing mood: “If you’re inviting Lucifer, I feel like you’re not making heaven. You’re making a themed venue with questionable management.”
Closing Arguments: Paradise, But Make It Customer-Centric
Still, the founder remains undeterred. He is reportedly workshopping additional features, including:
A confession booth that doubles as a VIP line.
A choir that only sings “Poker Face.”
A mirror room where you confront your choices, but “with flattering lighting.”
A buffet called The Last Supper (All You Can Eat).
“It’s about freedom,” he said. “If heaven is perfect, it should be able to handle a little blackjack. And if it can’t, maybe it wasn’t that perfect.”
He then paused, reconsidered, and added, “Also, I might remove the hookers. Not because of morality—just because the logistics are complicated.”
At press time, Lucifer was seen reviewing the latest blueprints, circling the words “eternal comped shrimp,” and muttering, “This is how civilizations fall.”
