The way Hunter turns Britney Spears into a mutant is he says to me "Get that off the spank wall, man."
See, the spank wall is the wall space just above the toilet (which is not to be confused with the spank bank, which is a wholly more ethereal and holy thing, and exists only in the mind). Anyway, what he says is "Get that off," when he sees I've plastered a Britney Spears tit-shot--tight shirt, just a hint of nipple--right above his Angelina Jolie tribute from Maxim--the one with text saying how much she likes erotic knife play.
Yeah, Hunter is a real freak.
So I tell him Burn you fucking freak--at least I don't dig Sporty Spice's flat-chested boyish charm.
He takes this real personal.
"Okay, cuntburger," he says. Cuntburger, to be fair, is an endearing term. "Come here. I've got something to show you."
Yeah, I can't wait, I say.
Look, I really do believe, even before Hunter tears the Britney glossy into four roughly equal pieces and flushes them, that everyone has some sort of trait that stands out so strongly that once you let your mind grasp on to it, you'll never be able to see this person the same way again. This only applies to us normals is my thought at the time--freaks like Hunter and me is what I'm talking about.
Imagine catching your grandfather masturbating, or seeing a little tuft of black hair between your girlfriend's breasts. Every time you look at the person you get this thought that's like the equivalent of a little piece of popcorn stuck at the back of your throat. This has happened to me many times: It's like this girl, this really gorgeous girl, and nice (in that order)--the thing is we're fooling around, and I do the things I normally do, which include sucking on her neck just a little. Not hickey-strength, just a little. Anyway, I get this blood taste in my mouth, and when I pull my mouth away her skin has this pink mixture of blood and saliva, which I quickly wipe away with my hand.
I know it's superficial, but every time I look at her after that, I start seeing her just break open like a rotten tomato, and I start looking at her closer and notice her hair's really thin and her skin is just too white. I start imagining liver spots and lesions. It just eats me, serious, and that's that with her.
And then, like some bitter magician, Hunter turns Britney Spears into a reptile. Abracadabra. Poof.
"What's wrong with this picture," he says, grinning.
She's wearing a top?
"No."
It'd be better if she was here in person?
"No."
You're severely disturbed?
"Fucking no. Look at her eyes."
Okay.
"Don't you see it?"
Eyes. Yeah. Two of them.
"Look at how far they are apart."
I pause like ten seconds.
Jesus.
Fuck you, I say, you ruined her.
Fuck you, I say, now she looks like a damned lizard.
And all that sadistic freak can do is laugh.