A crusty old battleship admiral died and found himself standing before Saint Peter at the pearly gates. Peter welcomed him warmly, "Come right in, Admiral! You've served your country well and you may enter Heaven!" The admiral looked thru the gates and stepped up to Saint Peter, "Just one thing, sonny. I hope there's no Chiefs here. They are the rudest, most obnoxious variety of human ever, and if there are any of them here, I'm not going in; I'd rather go to the other place." "Don't worry, admiral," said Saint Peter. “No Chief has ever made it into Heaven – you’ll find none of 'em here! So, the admiral goes on into Heaven. Moments later, he comes upon an amazing sight. It is a swaggering figure in khakis, garrison cap cocked slightly on his head, a mostly empty bottle of Crown Royal in one hand, and a beautiful woman on either arm... Incensed, the admiral rushes back to Saint Peter and gets in his face. "Hey! You said there were no Chiefs here! So who the hell is THAT?!?" "Don't worry, admiral," says Saint Peter gently. "That's God. He just THINKS he's a Chief."