Black Max wasn’t black, but his penchant for necrophilia often had him caked in slick mud. It wasn’t unusual though, most people took to the trend when they saw the benefits. It wasn’t just sexual gratification that they were after, no, nothing quite so superficial. It was much more advantageous than that. The sex was just a bonus if you like. They’d exhume a corpse, preferably at least a century old, and tie it to their backs like a dusty rotten rucksack. The older they were the better, because otherwise they might drizzle innards on your trousers, Max had found out first-hand. Anyway, they’d tie them up and scuttle off home where they had previously prepared an exquisite dining table, complete with candles and wine and other such luxuries. After dinner they’d mull over a nightcap, perhaps puffing on a fine cigar, discussing deeply complex social issues, attempting to find a resolution that was in everybody’s interest. Then, retiring to the bedroom, they’d make love, sometimes this was more awkward than they had bargained, with limbs dropping off or worse, holes disintegrating. It has to be stressed to those of you who don’t partake in the practice of necromancing that it’s all consensual and in good taste.
Also, firm advocates will hasten to add, it, without a doubt, led to the modern world as we know it. There was a real sense of achievement if you got yourself an Einstein or some philosopher whose ideas simply revolutionised the structure of society. After the love making you see, the corpse would reveal its ideas to you. Nine times out of ten they’d be rehashes or duplicates, and you’d feel slightly cheated and perhaps a little dirty at what you did to find out, for example, that if people pooled some of their surplus money together they could run a national health care service. But that one time where you get told an idea that simply blows everything else out the water, that’s worth trying again for. Black Max also knew this first hand. He was the reason the trend began in the first place. His first time (the same time he found out a fresh corpse drizzles) he was told to spread the word. To spread it far that corpses ideas were better than the living’s. In fact, he was told, living ideas that are good shouldn’t be used until the person is dead. They’re more palpable that way.
He couldn’t explain how he would have known to have sex with a corpse (after dining it!) to find out that having sex with a corpse would lead to this revolutionary discovery (and the subsequent utopian state that arose because of it), it just happened one night he says: He had cut right through emo rhetoric and waltzed passed Gothic idioms and concepts. He had no faith left in the lucid seduction of vampirism or the mania of lycanthropic transformation. He was left wanting something more insane than the darkest fetish of Wednesday Addams, something weirder than Satan’s favourite sex position. But, having tried these things and finding them not to his taste after all, he instead settled for the standardised practice of necrophilia, and you should count yourself lucky that he did!