Donny
Donny wore a shirt that said 'Free Range Chick-Magnet', so I could
tell he was an asshole. Sometimes he would make passes at my girlfriend.
"Want to sleep with me?" he asked.
Or also: "Come on, I'm good at sex."
Donny was a very straightforward man. He had straight hair that ended
slightly past his ears and had highlights in it. He also liked skateboards.
He could name tricks and even perform some of them.
One time Donny fell off of his skateboard and into a thin pane of
glass. It cut his head clean off. His head slid a little and stopped,
upright. The glass pressed into the bottom of his neck so it held
in the blood. His eyes looked around for a few final seconds.
"I bet you're not so good at sex any more Donny." I told him. He
made a face, but I'm not sure if that was because he was angry at me or just
because he was about to die.