Balok Eaglebauer was too focused on how the corpse’s eyeball felt against the tip of his penis to notice the cops coming through the door. He let his situational awareness lapse and that was his undoing. As someone who fancied himself a field agent, he should have known better.

Every detail of what he was doing at the the time  of his arrest went into the police report. Like most police reports, this one was done with the goal of securing a conviction rather than a pursuit of the truth. As far as law enforcement is concerned, the truth only gets in the way. Tell it to the judge, they say, but when you have your day in court the judge can and will disallow any testimony that threatens the established order.

Balok Eaglebauer knew the risks. If not, he should have. I never told him, but I didn’t think I had to.

I only knew him by his code name. That’s not uncommon. Most people only know me by mine, the one given to me by my parents. His might have been given to him by his parents as well though that seems less likely. Whatever the origin, it suited him. The first name is a character Clint Howard played in an episode of “Star Trek.” The last name is a role the same actor played in Rock ‘n’ Roll High School. If you are acquainted with both these performances, I am sure you can draw a pretty clear mental picture of him. If not, I’m sorry. I have neither the time nor inclination to educate you.

Balok Eaglebauer’s assignment was supposed to be straightforward. He was to infiltrate a secure location and gather evidence. Once that was done, I assured him, my associates and I would handle the rest.

When I first recruited him, I asked him what he knew about the woman dubbed the Dumpster Damsel. He said he had never heard of her.

“It was reported by the lamestream media,” I said.

He shrugged.

I went on to tell him about a homeless woman in her early thirties who died from heart failure, likely from years of substance abuse. Her body was found next to a dumpster behind a bar and she was dubbed the Dumpster Damsel for that reason.

Ordinarily dead homeless are not considered newsworthy, I said, but there were two factors that made her an exception. One was her looks. The public just loves a pretty face and she was remarkably attractive given her circumstances of being both homeless and dead. The second factor came after the news report of the preliminary autopsy, which said that she had been sexually penetrated post mortem by no fewer than 20 men, likely passers-by on their way home from work.

“Who was first?” Balok Eaglebauer asked.

“Huh?” I said.

“Which guy got to go first? Being first in line is better,” he said.

I had expected a different reaction from him, perhaps one of moral outrage, but I could see now that he had his hand down his pants and he was licking his lips.

“Nobody went first,” I told him.

“Somebody always goes first,” he said.

“No,” I said. “Because it never happened. A homeless woman died and she was hot. Those things are true, but no one had sex with her dead body.”

“So the men were lying.”

“No, why would they do that?”

“Guys like to brag sometimes. I know I do.”

“Someone did lie, but it wasn’t men bragging,” I said.

“It wasnt?”

“It was misandry.”

“Who’s she?”

“A fucking bitch, or rather a bunch of them looking to further their agenda, but we’re not going to let that happen so I need you to pay a little visit to the morgue. I bet if you swab the insides of the Dumpster Damsel’s lovin’ stuff, you’ll find no evidence of the potpourri of man mayo that’s been widely reported in the news. Here’s some Q-Tips and a sandwich bag. Good luck.”

That’s was the last time I ever saw Balok Eaglebauer. After his arrest, the police report was leaked to the media and they did a hatchet job on him. He became the new face of toxic masculinity.

It was kind of sad, really. Here were a bunch of reporters so intent on being judge, jury, and executioner, they couldn’t be bothered to act like journalists. They had no more interest in objective truth than went into the lurid police report that was handed to them. As a result, there remained unanswered questions.

I had one question of my own. It was not about why Balok Eaglebauer was doing what he was when the cops arrived. That’s pretty easy to figure out. We live in a big city so our morgue has a lot of bodies. I’m guessing the task of finding the Dumpster Damsel was so great, he abandoned his mission and let his proclivities take over. It was pretty obvious what those were, not that I’m judging. While my appetites differ, I can see the morality of his with nuanced view.  While it’s true a cadaver cannot consent, it cannot say no either. When a person dies, he or she stops being a person and becomes dead flesh. Therefore, necrophilia is arguably no less moral than fucking a cheeseburger.

Unfortunately, the law does not see it this way. Balok Eaglebauer will no doubt be convicted and given a lengthy sentence. And what will happen to to him then? How does a corpse diddler fare in the general prison population? I honestly don’t know so I sent an inquiry along his photo to a number of immates serving life sentences in prisons where he is likely to be sent. I have yet to receive any responses, but I fear the worst.

But where was I? Ah yes, my unanswered question. How could my whopper about a radical-feminist plot to fabricate a necro gang rape sound plausible? And yet it did to him. Can you imagine?