At age 96, Morty and Rhoda pass in their sleep and go to heaven. The weather is perfect. The food is outstanding. The views are spectacular. Old friends joyfully greet them. It’s everything they could have hoped.
Rhoda says, “Oh, Morty, isn’t it just wonderful here?”
Morty scowls and says, “Yeah, and if it hadn’t been for you pushing that lousy Oat Bran on me, we coulda been here twenty years ago!”