Matt the Necrophiliac

One of the most wicked bastards I ever knew
was a 6’2”, blonde blue-eyed piece of meat
named Matt. He is not significant in my life
except that he was the first person I ever
really knew who got away with things because
of he had “sweet” eyes and blonde hair that
fooled everyone I knew except my mother.
Matt was the kind of guy who would jerk off
in your house just to tell people he did it.

Matt once asked me if I were driving down
the highway and came across a car wreck
and found Cheryl Ladd freshly dead but not
all mangled and stuff, would I have sex with
her? What kind of shit is this, I asked myself.
Of course, out loud I simply said “no, probably
not.” You never know when you are a teenage
boy if you are on the outside looking in or really
the sane one. Better to play it safe.

I recoiled in horror from the very idea of necrophilia
as any decent human being would, but Matt said he
would do it. Enthusiastically even. “C’mon man,
sure you would, it’s CHERYL LADD! When are guys
like us ever gonna get a chance to have sex with a
famous movie star like that?”

And in his mind, he was a real altar boy.