A dozen Liverpool lads were at the pearly gates, ready to enter heaven.
St. Peter sauntered over. "I'm afraid we are nearly full. We can only take one of you".
The guys were not pleased about this.
St. Peter could sense their anguish and tried to calm things. "I'll tell you what guys; it's getting late. I'll report to God and get back to you in the morning. By then you will have things worked out, I promise".
The next morning St. Peter went to the entrance. What he saw shocked him. He ran to god. "God... they are gone, they've gone!" "What! All twelve of them?" "No, no, God... the Pearly Gates!"