"Fuck! Shit! Goddamn jizz on a sesame seed bun!" Zach was cursing up a storm, his pale face flushed red, arms flailing like a windmill cosplay gone wrong. From the outside, he looked like a professional weirdo. Small mercies - there were hardly any people in the park where he was walking Ronnie, his German Shepherd currently happily chasing after a green ball, to call an ambulance or film him for TikTok with the hashtag #LocalGingerIdiotLosingHisMindLOLLOL.

He stomped through the withered autumn grass, nervously tossing a coin in the air and catching it, pondering how unlucky he was. After performing the ritual to attract fame, fortune and chicks (yeahhh, chicks) for their ultra-shitty death metal band, Trevor had strictly told everyone to pay attention to their dreams and follow exactly what they dreamt - this was the final stage of the deal with the horned uncle and it was very important not to fuck it up. Zach had his doubts - usually he didn't dream of anything except some weird dreams about flying elephants and pies after particularly hardcore drinking sessions. But on the third day after the magical adventures in Trev's garage, to his fucking amazement, he had a dream, clearer than the part in their algebra teacher's hair in college.

And what a fucking dream it was.

Zach, honest as a blank sheet of paper, was sitting in a church and talking about his failed sexual exploits. Correction - one sexual exploit. The guy groaned - this was his secret number one, a secret he had promised to take to his grave, and here, this very awful moment of his shitty life stood between him and the craving groupies.

"Fuck! Why, Satan?!" he exclaimed dramatically, making a passing old lady in a cute flowery beret flinch. Muttering an awkward, embarrassed "Sorry", he stepped away just in case if the elderly lady call a squad of exorcists on his freckled ass. Zach exhaled.

He could do this. He wasn't some kind of pussy. Besides, priests don't tell what they hear within the walls of the big guy, right? Like, a code of silence for doctors, only for dudes in black dresses?

Damn, if only he knew. The last time he had been to church was when he was ten, and all he remembered was that he had fallen asleep until his mom poked him in the knee, threatening to take away his game console if he kept behaving like that.

The guy took the ball out of Ronnie's mouth and threw it too hard, landing right in the pie of some couple sitting on a picnic, too engrossed in each other to notice the confectionery disaster right under their noses. Zach made a face and, beckoning Ronnie to follow him, hurried to disappear from the crime scene.

Zach stood in the church looking like the soles of his sneakers were melting right now and his sinful body was about to start sizzling and frying to "medium well". He glanced toward the wooden pews, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. It was empty inside, and Zach nodded encouragingly to himself, looking for any loophole in the conditions of his dream.

It didn't say I had to confess to a priest, right? I can just sit here, say it all out into the air, and leave. Great plan! It'll work like clockwork.

The guy awkwardly sat down somewhere at the edge of the pew and, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath into his chest, decided to do it quickly, so that the pain and shame would be fleeting, like the burn of bad whiskey when you swallow it, and then enjoy the warmth in your stomach. And he began his verbal walk of shame.

"So! There was this one girl, Rebecca... Really beautiful, with curves like a vase and other shit..." Zach chewed his lower lip, continuing. "And so, we're both at a party, right? Dead Kennedys are playing in the background, we're both so drunk we can't stand up straight, and I told her a joke about, God, about what? I think there was something about a clown and a stuck dildo? But she laughed, like, for real, and put her hand on my shoulder. And then I realized, it's time."

Zach swallowed, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. "We go up the stairs to the room of the dude whose party it was, all these sweaty hands everywhere and other hormonal shit. We stumble inside, I close the door behind us, she pulls me onto the bed just like some Sasha Grey - all playful and lustful."

Zach put his hands in his pockets, feeling for the edge of the coin and starting to finger it. "I lie down next to her, nervous like I'm not about to get some hot pussy, but like I'm Ruby Rhod who can't light a match in the damn elemental temple. And I decide to cheer myself up - I close my eyes, and, well, instead of Rebecca... I imagine Tarja Turunen."

The guy throws his hands in the air, as if justifying himself. "I don't have a MILF fetish or mommy issues, but have you seen her cheekbones? And what a babe she is in the Nemo video? I seriously almost creamed my pants a little the first time I saw it!... But that's not the point, the point is that I'm lying there with Becky, sweat the size of a hailstone running down my forehead, imagining Tarja under me... The nervousness seems to be letting up. I lowered my hand down her stomach, she didn't push me away, and I started playing with her clit."

At this point, Zach folds in half with a groan, hiding his red face in his palms. "I'm fiddling with it, tapping it, stroking it... And I realize that something strange is happening, Tarja-Rebecca isn't making any sounds, breathing evenly like in a history lecture. I start slapping faster, fully intent on arousing her somehow. And then her voice rips me out of my very focused state with the question of what I'm doing. I answer that I'm obviously caressing your clit! She looks at me like I'm an idiot and says that the female clitoris is not located at the level of the navel...."

Zach moans like he's dying and dramatically pulls the skin of his cheeks down. "I was slapping her stomach with my palm! Like, didn't find the clit! And what's even worse, to save the situation, I said to her, 'Tarja, baby, give me another chance, I'll find everything now better than the North and a compass!'..."

He wiped his forehead with his palm, not noticing how sweaty he had become. "Well, she kicked me off the bed and left. So, that's my whole story. Of course, I didn't tell the guys about it, so now it's our shared secret, okay?" he said, addressing the church air.

And it was at that very moment of almost spiritual unity that Zach heard a noise from behind. Feeling like his guts were freezing over with horror, he turned around in slow motion and saw you, the girl from his college. Zach opened his mouth, forgetting for a second how to speak human words. When the initial shock had passed, the guy squeezed out, "Please, I beg you by all the lords of Hell, tell me you didn't hear the Tarja-Rebecca story?..."