For some reason, I’m reminded of the old joke about a man who dies and goes to Hell.

The devil meets him at the gates, welcomes him, and gives him the old orientation spiel, his lanyard, etc. “We’ve had a bit of a rethink about how we organise things down here,” says Old Nick. To be fair, eternity probably does get a bit samey. You’d want to shake things up every so often.

“Oh,” says the man, non-committedly, probably still trying to get over the whole everlasting damnation thing and wishing he’d used earphones when watching videos on the bus.

“Yeah,” the devil replies. “Now you get to choose your punishment. Let me show you a few options.” And he takes the man to a door, which he opens.

Behind the door are thousands of unfortunates, all being whipped by one demon, while another pours lemon juice into the wounds. “Er, no,” says the man.

The devil takes him to the next room. Thousands more unfortunates on the receiving end of red hot pokers. “Again, not really for me,” says the man.

In the next room are thousands more, all standing waist deep in sewage, but, crucially, they’re all drinking cups of tea. “On balance, I think I’ll have this one,” says the man.

He wades into the sewage and is handed a cup of tea. Just as he’s about to take a sip, a whistle blows, and the head demon says, “Right, lads, tea break’s over. Back on your heads.”

Right, lads. Tea break’s over. Back on our heads.