Hey! I thought about going two years without updating this, but changed my mind. Here we go. Edgar storyline...

Bit 8

"Er, hi," edgar said. Johnny stared at him am inute and then sat down at teh foot of hish bed. Er, what's up?" at four in the fucking morning, he added mentally, but not out loud. He wasn't quite suicidal yet.

"Can yuo explain," Johnny started, "jest whut's so great about sex?"

Edgar blinked once. Then twice. Then again, just for good measure. "You want to know what's good about...sex?"

Johnny nodded, pouting and put his head in his hand. "I just don't get ti. It's..." he rotated his wrist in a circle. "It's disgusting. It's bodily fuids and and..."

"It's...I don't know. I've never had sex." Edgar pulled his knees up to his chest, partly to get away from Johnny, partly because this was an extreeemly uncomfortable conversation and he really didn't want to talk about his virginity to...well, a psychotic mass-murderer. It was just a bit awkward.

"Really?" Johnny asked. He looked mildly surprised. "That's, er." He looked down and twitched. "Srprising."

"What?"

Johnny glanced up at him and the n down again. "Just, uh. Healthy, attractive young man."

A bit awkward had gracefully dived into more-awkward-than-you-can-shake-a-stick-at. He was fairly certain that Johnny was coming onto him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, cry, or throw up. Or, possibly, some combination of the three.

"Uh, thanks?"

"It's the religion thing, innit?" Johnny asked He looked—well, Edgar wasn't quite sure. A cross between scared, angry, and curios. How he pulled it off, Edgar wasn't sure. Buyt he managed it.

"Sort of," Edgar replied. He had to handle this tactfully. And carefully. very, very carefully. "It's that, plus, well. I haven't met the right pe—girl yet." He swallowed. Gently drop in that he's straight. Hopefully It wouldn't piss the guy off.

"Makes sense, I suppose," Johnny murmured. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Perhaps Edgar had been wrong—perhaps Johnny hadn't been coming ont him. Perhaps Johnny was just—well, that made sense. Johnny was just insane. "Still. Why'd you want to, anwya?"

"Right. It's—it's gross, right?" Edgar agreed, though he wasn't quite sure he did. "Uh. So. Why now?"

Johnny looked at him insurprise and looked around. "What now?"

"Why'd you come now?"

"Because." He looked at the clock. "Oh. I suppose you were asleep, huh?"

"yeah." You ought to know. You woke me up.

"I'll go then." He looked—dejected. Completely, utterly degected and Edgar felt terrible abou it, even though Johnny was a psychopath and would've just as soon killed him as looked at him, but he just looked sad, and wasn't he supposed to help people? Wasn't it his job as a Christian—as a human being—to help people who were suffering?

"You don't have to," Egar said quietly. Johnny looked up. "I mean—you can crash on my couch, if you want."

"I don't sleep," Johnny replied, and didn't that make sense. "Do you get HBO?"

"No, but I do have basic cable."

"AMC?"

"Yup."

"Great." He grinned and jounced out of the room.

Edgar tried and failed to sleep. Johnny spent the rest of the night screaming at the TV.

I like the word jounced.