• The teacher who said you would amount to anything

-- For the sake of argument let us assume that she was right and you did turn out to be a worthless, pathetic loser. She would still be a bitch, not to mention an incompetent teacher. Teachers aren’t just supposed to drill lessons into your skull, they’re supposed to inspire you to make something of yourself. No matter how crummy the raw material. It’s part of their job description, and the fact that teachers are horrendously underpaid, overworked, and unappreciated is beside the point. If you’re a loser, it’s partly her fault.
For being a rotten teacher, she is doomed to write “I was an incompetent teacher who ruined the lives of my students” 100 times on the blackboard, and then erase everything and start all over again. For all eternity. With no bathroom breaks.

• The music teacher who told you that if you can't sing well, don't sing at all

-- You'll run into her there, in a bare, padded room, strapped to a chair that administers periodic electric jolts to prevent her from losing consciousness as her ears are assaulted with every Air Supply song ever written.

• The cousin who broke all your toys then ran crying to her mother

-- There is some justice in this world, so this destructive little liar probably grew up friendless. Now in Hell, she is forever eight years old and walking down the endless aisle of the most wonderful, spectacular, supercalifragilistic toy store in the universe. The shelves are lined with every single toy ever invented, and some that haven’t been invented yet. Each time she tries to pick up a toy from a shelf, the toy moves just out of her reach. She can never play with any of these fantastic toys. Occasionally a bunch of 8-year-old kids run into the store and grab toys from the shelves. When she tries to play with them, they break the toys on her head.

• The teacher who ruined math/literature for you

-- His perpetual punishment is to recite from memory the complete value of Pi, down to the last decimal place, or the entire text of James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake to a room full of cranky scholars. Every time he makes a mistake, he gets pelted from all corners with balled-up pieces of paper that weigh like boulders. Then he has to start at the very beginning. In the extremely unlikely event that he ever gets to the end of Pi or Finnegan’s Wake, he moves on the next assignment: mathematical proof of Fermat’s Theorem, or Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time in the original French.

• The neighbors who haven’t stopped yowling since they got their karaoke machine.

-- They are condemned to an eternity without sleep, trapped inside a smoky, reeking karaoke bar where the music is so loud it causes their brains to melt and run out of their ears. There they must sing without stopping while they are clubbed and poked with giant microphones by putrid demons requesting “My Way”.

• The rich people across the street who detonate their New Year’s Eve firecrackers on your driveway for fear of accidentally blowing up their environment-raping SUVs

-- They are tied up, then barrels of petroleum are poured down their throats until petroleum gushes out of their noses and ears. Then when they are completely bloated, they are made to lie on the floor while devils jump up and down on their bellies. Meanwhile frisky little imps throw lit firecrackers at them, and if the pyrotechnics get into their mouths they explode.

• The friend of the family who always noted how not pretty you were, and suggested you were adopted

-- Why would an adult take pleasure in making a child feel ugly and freakish, unless he was tormented by the knowledge of his own hideousness? In Hell he is perpetually pregnant. Every three months he gives birth to a monster who looks at him, laughs hysterically, and slithers away.

*THE MAELSTROM OF THE EXES

• The ex who cheated on you then accused you on cheating on him

-- An apple is stuffed in his mouth and he is roasted over hot coals in a fancy retaurant. As he turns on the spit, he can watch you having dinner with Johnny Depp. He shrieks, squirms, and desperately tries to get your attentio, but you do not notice him. Why would you, you're having dinner with Johnny Depp (or Orlando Bloom or whoever you like).

• The user

-- I Hell he becomes useful for a change: he is transformed into a battery. He floats in a vat of acid with wires attached to his body, providing power for Hell's assorted Machines of Eternal Torment, inlcuding The Neverending Celine Dion Jukebox and The Meg Ryan Perpetual Film Festival.

I'll post the others next time. I'm tired. Hehehehe:) Or you could get a copy for yourself. It's a must-read:)

I finally uploaded my pictures!!!!! YIIIPPPPPEEE!! Check 'em out y'all!

http://lauredilian.multiply.com

Take care y'all!:)