For middle-aged suburbanites- Richard and Harriet Joyce-their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary is just another excuse to go to the country club, get drunk and meet their lovers. When Richard's Jaguar crashes into his mistress's car, their routine is changed by death--but not radically so. For the next world is the same gilded rat-race--with one important exception--its inhabitants can change their ages with official approval. The Joyces try this in the same selfish search for happiness that motivated their earthly lives, but with even less success. And no wonder--for on the last page they learn they are not in heaven but in hell. This stereotyped picture of the grey-flannel milieu gains nothing by its gimmick that has not already been lost by dull-edged satire, leaden fantasy and slapdash style.