After a long, hard and yet successful career, a cinematographer dies and goes up to the pearly gates. It's a busy day in heaven, long line at the gate, and Saint Peter seems to be taking his sweet ass holy time
Anyway, so the cinematographer is waiting and waiting as the line slowly inches forward, but he's not all that tweaked out, since, hey! he's going to heaven.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a black mercedes S600 V12 comes screeching to a fishtailing halt right outside the gates, the door opens and a pompous ass in all black clothing (and sunglasses to match) pops out.
He slams the door, strides confidently to the front of the line, tosses the car keys to Saint Peter (who barely catches them) and turns around to look at the line. He pulls down his sunglasses and stands there.
"Great... Really great... Keep it up!" he says patting Saint Peter on the back before turning on his heel and whizzing right through the gates before anyone can say (or even think) a word.
This is finally too much for our cinematographer friend, who, despite the risk of eternal damnation, loses his cool and runs screaming at Saint Peter.
"Great!" says the cinematographer, "I bust my ass my whole life... working on sets, making the film look great, taking all the crap from the idiot clients and the spineless director and finally I'm dead, and I had a good life... was a good man, and I get here to the pearly gates and I'm waiting and waiting with everybody else.. following the rules... And why? For what?"
"It's just the same up here. The asshole director shows up at the last minute, doesn't stand in line and goes flying through the pearly gates without so much as a word from you, and no body even stops him or tells him to stand in line with the rest of us... This is a load of shit!"
Saint Peter, shrugs with an embarrassed smile and explains... "Oh no... I'm sorry... you don't understand... that's not a director... that's God. He just thinks he's a director."