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A Boston native dies and is sent to Hell. The Devil tries to make him as uncomfortable as possible, maintaining a temperature of 100 degrees, but the man does not seem to mind.
"How can you be comfortable?" the Devil asks.
"I used to spend my summers on the Cape," the man replies. "This feels just like June. I can handle this."
"Very well then," says the Devil, and he turns the heat up to 130 degrees.
"No problem," answers the man. "My studio apartment was $2000 a month, so I couldn't afford an air conditioner. This feels just like July."
"Have it your way," says the Devil, and he turns the heat up to 180 degrees.
"Big deal," says the man, still unfazed. "I used to sit in the bleachers at Fenway Park. This feels just like August."
The Devil thinks for a moment, then decides to reduce the temperature to minus-50. At this, the man smiles, and starts jumping up and down and shouting happily.
"What now?" asks the Devil.
"Hell froze over!" the man yells triumphantly. "The Red Sox must have finally won the World Series!"
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