Real Men Wear Black A Memoir
I was at my friend Richard’s House that cold Sunday evening in January. While awaiting his return, I decided to pass the rime by cleaning up some of the garbage and dried brush from his property. As I was burning the rubbish in a rusty old, bullet-riddled 55-gallon oil drum, I saw the headlights shining up the long gravel driveway. David “Cheri-boy” March’s little white Tercel pulled up in front of the roaring fire. The dented driver’s door opened as he stepped out onto the frozen backyard.
He warmed himself by the fire as we shot the breeze about some of ol’ Satan’s tricks; how he gets us to go against our better judgment and make complete jackasses of ourselves. David started to tell me a memoir about one fateful evening he took the Devil’s bait about four years earlier, right here at Richard’s house. He took a sip of his Samuel Adams Cherry Wheat ale and began his pitiful little legend.
I played dumb, pretending not to know about the incident. Actually, I knew the whole sordid story, detail for detail, just like it happened yesterday. I was, unfortunately, one of the bastards who baited Lucifer’s hook that night.
The phone call came about 2:30 Saturday morning, jarring my wife and me out of a sound sleep. I feebly answered the phone, if only to acquire it stop screaming.
“What? ” I mumbled into the phone, hoping nobody was tedious or in jail.
“We did it, man! We got ‘im!” said the voice on the other end.
“Who the hell is this? ” I asked, obviously pissed as I watched the huge snowflakes fall outside my bedroom window.
“It’s Richard, man! We nailed David! Bedie got him to do it tonight!”
“Who the hell’s calling at this hour? ” my wife asked, half in her sleep.
“It’s Richard. They finally did it to Cheri-boy.”
“That’s nice” she snickered weakly, “Tell ‘im he can tell us all about it tomorrow.”
I hung up and went serve to sleep. I was not happy about being so rudely awakened that cold December morning. It was partially my fault, though, because I did tell Richard to call me whenever he got him if I couldn’t be there to see it. With over four inches of snow on the ground outside, however, my wife and I were more interested in a nice, warm bed at the time.
The whole sorry mess started in 1990. Richard and I had known Cheri-boy for about five years. We all met each other while attending this hard-right fundamentalist church our folks dragged us to every friggin’ Sunday. The congregation was the sort that hated anything secular, claiming our skateboards and rock music would send us straight to Hell with no time to close and take pictures. David’s parents epitomized this mentality to a tee. They were rough, nay, abusive, on him, and distrusted any young person without a military haircut. We all indulged in plenty of smoking, tripping, and drinking; if only to piss them and the other Falwellian minions of the church off royally.
David was about three years older than us. That fact along with his big muscles and his ability to grow a sincere moustache made all of us little snots look up to him. However, it soon became obvious to us that he wasn’t as chilly as we all thought. He used to bullshit everybody about everything. He also was a big crybaby who threw temper-tantrums whenever he didn’t gain his method. To steal a line from Ice-T; “When the boys played rough, he always cried. WHEN HE TOLD A STORY, HE ALWAYS LIED.”
He also had a perverted shuffle in him a mile wide, and was a chronic masturbator, which made him an easy target for pranks. As a matter of fact, he got his nickname from when we caught him whacking off to a Cheri magazine, one of the sleaziest girlie slicks in existence at the time!
His explosive, violent baby fits were incredibly funny to watch. It did not take much to glean him cursing like the Devil. This caused everyone in our crowd to play practical jokes on him almost incessantly because, quite frankly, he’d always bring it on himself! His low emotional immaturity made the game a lot of fun; the object being to see who could piss him off the worst and the fastest.
As big and buff as he was, though, he would never physically attack his tormentors unless they were way smaller and/or younger than him. Basically, he was a huge wimp, and would show everybody his rage by cursing loudly and destroying any nearby inanimate object (which almost got him arrested several times). He evidently never figured out that the more he went off, the more everybody tortured him.
It wasn’t long before me and Richard started a humorous strip based on Cheri-boy’s tantrums. He was literally a walking cartoon anyway, so all we did was simply take creative advantage of the fact. Even though they were full of inside jokes, others who never even met David still got a kick out of them. Although the storylines were based on practical jokes (like Nair in his shampoo bottle and Jim pooping in his lunchbox), we’d sometimes put him into fictitious situations, one of which was in a comic called “Real Men Wear Black”.
The anecdote went like this: David hooked up with a local floozy in the woods behind our neighborhood to do the nasty. She got him hot enough to put on a black negligee, and other bizarre accessories (fishnet stockings, scuba flippers, Mickey Mouse ears, football pads, and so forth) while pleasuring himself. Once he was irreversibly compromised, she gave a signal to the owners of several previously hidden cars, and they’d all hit the headlights, letting the whole neighborhood see him in all his glory! In the end, it all turns out to be a nightmare and he wakes up and shakes it off by, of course, masturbating.
For some ungodly reason, this particular storyline stuck in our minds for years. We became obsessed with playing what we considered to be the ultimate practical joke on Cheri-boy; his complete and total public humiliation! It was like he was Frank Burns and Richard and I were Hawkeye Pierce and Trapper John, and this was going to be the funniest damn episode of M*A*S*H ever made!
Fast forward to 1995; five years later. We had not forgotten our plan. Our only obstacle was finding a girl who wouldn’t mind setting him up. Richard’s wife Sherrie had a cousin named Bedie, a little blond party girl who was rather promiscuous and indiscriminate about whom she slept with. We had finally hit pay dirt!
When she was first approached with the idea, she balked. David had a little crush on her, and she felt kinda sorry for him. Once Richard offered her $50.00 to do it, her pity quickly vanished. She still had to get drunk, though, to trump up the nerve to go through with it, as she was a miniature intimidated by David’s size and build.
Sherrie had this cheesy-looking see-through black teddy. It was a bell-shaped, mid-length job with a jagged hemline on the bottom. It had a frilly neckline with a big, floppy bow at the bottom of the cleavage. It looked like a costume from an off-Broadway production of “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas”; perfect for our plan!
It was supposed to go down during Richard and Sherrie’s Halloween party that year, where over seventy-five people would have witnessed it. Bedie chickened out at the last second, however, and it was tentatively rescheduled for his New Years Eve party. Richard was kind of crestfallen because he had a camera and everything, but the world would simply have to wait to see Cheri-boy in a nightie!
On a Friday night in December, the week before Christmas, Bedie decided all by herself that this would be the day that David would become a transvestite. This move kinda pissed us off, because it left us totally unprepared, with no camera, no tape recorder, nothin’! Also, because there was a blizzard that night, I was trapped at home, and would not be there to spy it. In a way, though, it was perfect, because there was still a crowd at Richard’s, and nobody was going anywhere anyway!
Bedie had been teasing him daily for the past week up at the Casa de Richard, and this was supposed to be another “build-up” day to get him to eventually wear the silly thing. I figured she probably objective wanted to get it over with, because she made it no secret that she was a little shy about how he might react when the whole motley crew came bustin’ in on them. One of her worthless, jailbird ex-husbands beat her up real suitable about a year before, so she was understandably gun-shy about this, but everyone reassured her that there would be plenty of people there to sight her back, and make sure she didn’t get hurt.
Everyone in the old crowd might not have been there that night, but there were still plenty of us there to make him feel REAL small. Sherrie’s brother Rickie and his wife Jolanda were in the living room watching TV and Richard, Sherrie, David, and another old-fashioned friend of the crew named Evano were at the kitchen table playing Spades. During the game, Bedie was busy setting up the baby monitors Richard and Sherrie had for their boys that would be used to listen for the “go” signal; the receiver in the bathroom and the transmitter in Richard and Sherrie’s bedroom, where the deed would be done!
The plan was beautifully simple. Bedie would get David good and hot, like she’d been for the past week. Sherrie and Richard would then announce that they were going to take a shower together, but were actually going to be eavesdropping on them from the bathroom. The signal was simple as well; Bedie would say “LET’S FUCK!”, and the whole gang would bust into the bedroom like Elliot Ness and his men and catch David in the negligee.
When Bedie finished bugging the bedroom, she went up to the card table, and hugged David from behind. She put her hands down his wife-beater shirt and seductively rubbed his extremely hairy chest, causing him to shudder like he was about to get off accurate then and there. That little scene ran all through Evano, his face flushed with arouse.
Evano was over four hundred pounds of sheer jealousy, and was VERY interested in Bedie. He was well aware that she was only the bait for the prank, and not really interested in him, but it did not make Evano happy at all to see her fondling Cheri-boy’s pecs. Evano had already knocked boots with Bedie twice before, but couldn’t resist betting David that he would acquire her in bed before him. David, being a compulsive gambler, was so sure of himself that he shook on the bet with Evano, even going as far as to say “May the best man win!”
After the last hand was played and all the points were counted, Sherrie and Richard went off to take their “shower”.
“Now’s our chance, lover!” Bedie said, taking David’s hand. “Let’s go git it OWN!!!!”
“Have fun, kids,” Evano said, half sarcastically.
She led him into the bedroom, and they instantly locked the door and started kissing.
“Boy, you’re beautiful,” David sighed. They resumed kissing while Richard and Sherrie listened in on the baby monitor.
“Oh-ho-ho-oh, that’s sexy,” David shuddered. Sherrie then grabbed the baby monitor and held it right up to her ear.
“I need you to do something for me,” said Bedie.
“What’s that? ” asked David. Bedie then held up the sheer shaded teddy seductively before him.
“I need you to put this on for me.”
“Hell, no! I ain’t gonna put that thing on!”
“I can’t be comfortable and get off unless you put this on.”
“Really, please, don’t make me wear that!” Rickie, Jolanda, and Evano were crouched by the bedroom door, waiting for the go-ahead, trying to stifle their giggling.
“No one will find out,” Bedie lied. A ten second silence followed.
“Are you certain I ain’t being set up? ” asked David.
“No, sweetie”, replied Bedie. “I just likes it KINKY!”
“I don’t know about this!’
“Aw, come on,” cooed Bedie, “you can do it for ME!”
“Oh, alright, dammit!” David huffed. The sounds of him disrobing can be heard through the monitor’s speaker.
“Listen to this!” Sherrie said, passing the receiver to her husband. “He’s actually puttin’ it on!” Ironically, Bedie never even took off her shoes, let alone stripped naked!
“DAMN, I’M HARD!!!!” bellowed David, causing Richard to laugh even harder.
“GIMME THAT!!!” Sherrie said, ripping the receiver from Richard’s hand.
“Oooh, don’t YOU look sexy!!” came Bedie’s voice over the speaker, “Oh, I am ready now…….LET’S FUCK!!!”
“There’s the password!” Sherrie said “Let’s go!”
The couple raced out of the bathroom to the bedroom door. Evano picked the lock, but Rickie chickened out and went back to the living room, afraid David might break bad on him. 2 seconds later, they were in. Bedie fled the second the door was opened. At first, Cheri-boy just kinda stood there in the negligee, as if to say “Do you mind? I’m trying to derive laid!” He soon realized, however, that he’d been punked, and that he wasn’t going to be gettin’ any!
“BUSTED!!!!!” Richard hollered as he pointed his finger right in Cheri-boy’s face. He was only wearing the negligee, his queer-looking baby-blue silk zebra-striped bikini briefs, and the ball cap he always wore since he was 16, even to bed, to hide his receding hairline. The sheer dim material clung to his body like saran wrap. A massive shock of thick black chest hair poofed out over the frilly border of the teddy’s low v-cut neckline, his hard-on still bulging in his sissy drawers. Mortified as a man could ever be, he grabbed a bedsheet to cover himself, affecting a look that can only be described as that of Wile E. Coyote before the boulder falls on him.
Sherrie just stared at him, cackling like a hyena on acid. Evano was laughing so hard, he fell to his knees as he walked out of the bedroom, shaking the entire house to its foundation. Even Rickie snickered; though he conscientiously stifled the sounds of his amusement for fear that David might hit him. They were all still laughing as they sat in the sectional sofa, with Bedie planting herself right between Richard and Evano in case David tried to take it out on her.
For the next five minutes, Cheri-boy just sat there in the negligee. He thought he was gonna get laid. His pecker was rock hard and his libido in full swing. He was king of the world! And then, in a fraction of a second, he was dropped from his dizzying pinnacle straight down into the howling depths of shame. This prank had totally lop his balls off.
He put his clothes back on, and came into the living room with a discover on his face like he could kill everybody in the room. The little mob greeted him with roaring laughter.
“FUCK Y’ALL!!” David snapped, “Y’ALL GODDAMN SONS O’ BITCHES!!!! Y’AIN’T NO FUCKIN’ FRIENDS O’ MINE!!!!” The louder he cussed, the louder everyone laughed. He turned to Bedie to deliver his anguished diatribe.
“Why, Bedie? Why? Why me? What’d I ever do to you? Why? Man, I loved you, Bedie (He’d only known her less than a week!). I loved you! Why? Why’dja do it? “
“Well, THEY put me up to it,” retorted Bedie, as if to absolve herself of any blame. She then drew even closer to Evano, her chosen protector.
“It was a JOKE, David!” said Richard, “I never thought you’d fall for it! Heh-heh! You gotta admit it was glorious funny!” Feeling a little guilty about emasculating David, Richard tried to throw him a conciliatory bone. “I can understand you being mad, dude. Here!” he said, sticking his chin out to him, “I’m gonna give ya a free shot. If ya wanna take a swing at me, steal a swing at me! Go ahead! I won’t even hit you help. I reckon I deserve it!”
“I’m not angry” lied Cheri-boy, “It’s just that I think people’s sexual preferences should be kept leisurely closed doors!”: a statement that only caused more peals of laughter.
“Looks like the best man really DID win!” said Evano, as he pulled Bedie closer to him.
“FUCK Y’ALL!!!” David shot back. “MOTHERFUCKIN’ ASSHOLES!!!” He turned directly to Richard, the one who pranked him the most over the years. His huge Homer Simpson eyeballs were filling with tears. His voice broke as he said “WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU THAT WAS SO DAMN BAD THAT YOU HAFTA DO THIS SHIT TO ME? ” Richard actually felt a itsy-bitsy remorseful about things, feeling the fallout of a practical joke gone too far. A deafening, ear-ringing silence followed.
“I AIN’T TALKING TO ANYONE OF YOU MOTHERFUCKERS EVER AGAIN!!!!” he whimpered as he stomped out the back door. “FUCK Y’ALL!!! I’M OUTTA HERE!!!!” SLAM! There was a dangerous blizzard that night that had already left at least four inches of snow on the roads, and it was not going to let up any time soon. It didn’t matter, though. He was leaving anyway. Nobody tried to stop him from risking his neck on the white-knuckle roads of north Knox County.
They were all ashen quiet now. What could they have said to stop him? He was far beyond humiliated. I guess he figured that risking his ass on those icy switchback mountain roads beat being laughed at all night. Everyone believes to this day that Cheri-boy seriously contemplated killing himself that night. We ALL would have been guilty of murder had he done so!
As I threw another Hefty bag of trash into the flaming barrel, I realized that we never did pay Bedie her fifty dollars. My mind then drifted to all the other practical jokes we played on him over the years. I notion of the time we flipped his bed over so he’d slam into the box spring’s slats as he dove into it. Or the time Richard had him really believing he had caught AIDS off that nasty biker bitch he nailed at Chip’s party in back in ‘88. All the times we put makeup on his face or shaved off half his moustache whenever he’d pass out drunk (which happened at almost every party). Even when we dropped acid in his beer and made him think his brain was melting. Boy, we needed our asses kicked hard, no? We were fucking nasty little bastards!
Out of all the pranks we ever played on the ‘Boy, the “Negligee Episode” was by far the cruelest. We basically stopped pulling gags on him altogether after that. Even so, I laugh out loud at this saga every time I think about it, and I laughed after he finished telling me about his condensed, cleaned-up version.
“Dude, I’m sorry for laughin’, man” I apologized. “But you gotta admit, it is a hilarious record!”
“You’re right! It IS funny!” he replied. “I can laugh at it now, too. It don’t bother me anymore!” Yeah, I thought, maybe now. But back then, he stayed gone for over two weeks after it had happened. Everyone thought that gag had run him off for good. Remorsefully, Richard told me never to let on to David that I knew anything about the story; that he wanted to let David have some dignity and allow him to command me in his own time, should he ever choose to. I reckon the alcohol released some of his inhibitions, and he felt the time was right that night. Still, I had to know; how the hell could he not smell a rat in the kitchen that night?
“Dude, how could you be so fuckin’ DUMB? ” I asked. “How could you not see that coming? If some chick tried to get ME to put on a negligee at a fuckin’ party, it’d really make me suspicious! So why’d you do it, especially if you didn’t want to? “
“Oh, I had my suspicions, gain it or not” he explained, “but I was horny! I let my flesh tell me what to do, and not my spirit, and I got burned. I got exactly what I deserved.”
As I watched the flames reflect in his huge ping-pong ball eyes, I couldn’t help but silently admire him because, in the end, he blamed HIMSELF for getting into that jam. If only more people took that kind of responsibility for their shit, this ol’ world might not be such a shitty, jacked-up region.
However, he was, and in many ways, still is a bullshitter. He is both Beavis and Butthead, with a little bit of Cartman, combined into one single, huge, super-ultra-mega dumbass. I must admit, however, that I was really impressed that he actually learned something from our cruel little prank and, most importantly, never to do anything that stupid again (fool me once…)
Unfortunately, he was, again, soon sounding like Cliff Claven bullshitting Norm Peters over a mug of beer at Cheers, spouting his usual drunken wisdom about God, politics, and the like. As I left him at the trash burner waiting for Richard, I headed home, realizing that even though I gained a new measure of respect for ol’ David that night, the sad truth is, HE WILL ALWAYS BE CHERI-BOY!
THE END
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