Mark Twain said many times that he’d want to go to Heaven for the climate and Hell for the company.
The Devil offered him a house with air conditioning, so Twain chose Hell.
“Aha!” shouted The Devil. “The air conditioning is broken!”
“I’ll wait for the repairs,” said Twain. And he smoked his cigars on the veranda, with The Devil.
The Devil taunted Twain with endless stories about shipping delays and incompetent repairmen.
Year after year, century after century.
Eventually, The Devil gave in, and fixed the air conditioning.
“Thank you,” said Twain. “Most of all, you’ve been excellent company.”