One good deed

A guy died and was waiting at the pearly gates while St. Peter leafed through his big book to see if the guy was worthy. St. Peter went through the book several times, furrowed his brow, and said to the guy, "You know, I cant see that you ever did anything really bad in your life, but you never did anything really good either. If you can point to even one really good deed, you're in."

The fellow thought for a moment, and said, "Yeah, there was one time when I was driving down the highway and saw a giant group of bikers assaulting this poor girl. I slowed down my car to see what was going on, and, sure enough, there they were, about fifty of them, tormenting this terrified young woman. Infuriated, I got out of my car, grabbed a tire iron out of my trunk, and walked up to the leader of the gang, a huge guy with a studded leather jacket and a chain running from his nose to his ear. As I walked up to the leader, the bikers formed a circle around me. So I ripped the leaders chain off his face and smashed him over the head with the tire iron. Laid him out. Then I turned and yelled at the rest of them, 'Leave this poor innocent girl alone! You're all a bunch of sick, deranged animals! Go home before I teach you all a lesson in pain!'"

St. Peter, impressed, says, "Really? When did this happen?"

"Oh, about two minutes ago."