Getting stranded on an island with my best friend gave me the perfect excuse to try cannibalism. When our ship overturned, and our lifeboats drifted out of reach, I knew this was a dream come true. And as we draped ourselves on a nearby buoy, determined to kick our way to that piece of land in the distance, all I could think was that my dinner was currently being marinated in the freshest sea salt.

Once we were on the island, I knew I had to act quickly. At any moment, we could be rescued and brought back to the mainland where sympathetic crowds would clamor around us, offering me tissue as I sobbed. They would shake their heads, each imagining what fate had befallen me during the ordeal, but the truth would be that I cry only because the tissue I really wanted was biological.

My friend, however, refused to cooperate.

“Hey buddy,” I cooed, waving at him below the boiling sun. “Wanna check out that cave with me?”

Being the type that planned ahead, I had set up a makeshift kitchen in a nearby cave. A stack of flat rocks became my table, a row of sharp rocks became my knives, and a large, round rock became my chair. It is indeed true what people say about caves: there are a shit load of rocks.

“Uh, I think I’m gonna go over there instead,” he said, pointing somewhere away from me.

I was a tinge disappointed that he seemed to remember that late-night chat we had many years ago when after a few drinks I mentioned that given the chance, I would like to eat human meat. He also knew that I never called him “buddy” unless I wanted something. My approach at this point was not helped even when I altered my strategy.

“Come on, ol’ fella, what say we chaps go have tea in that splendid cavern!”

I suspect you’re wondering why I had to get him into a cave at all. With no one around, I could get away with anything. But this exposes you as an amateur. First, caves are cooler than the sunny outdoors and would allow me to store the meat for a much longer period of time. As for getting the meat first and then transporting it into the cave, the problem arises when, during the chase, the prey leads me away from enclosed spaces, making the meat too far to be carried. The human body is also much heavier than you would expect, and having spent the energy in acquiring it, I fear not much would be left to carry it. The fact that this paragraph was written with a straight face is evidence of the thought I have to put into it, and the respect I think it deserves.

Days passed without progress. I looked at my friend longingly as my vision of him was gradually replaced by a roast chicken. This may seem alarming to the casual castaway, but I was well-versed in this phenomenon from watching Saturday morning animated documentaries.

“Hey,” I said, now so drained of energy I could no longer afford to be wordy. “Bud.”

My friend turned around. He sat next to me and was in much better shape than I was, having ate fish that he caught earlier in the day. He had offered me some, but I declined. I did not travel to an uninhabited island thousands of miles away from civilization to eat fish.

“Dude…” I said, my voice now trailing. “Sure don’t want cave?”

He sighed. He pushed some more fish towards me, urged me to take a bite, but I declined once more. My friend was not a gentleman and did not understand that no means no.

“Cave…”

He stood up, looked down at my withering body, and said, “If you’re going to die, you might as well be where you want.”

He reached down to grab my arms and began dragging me across the ground. I was fairly certain we were going to the cave. In between moments of unconsciousness, I smiled, dreaming of the forthcoming man meat.

When we arrived at the entrance, I thought I sprung to attack, nimble like a ninja, striking all his pressure points with deadly accuracy to inflict mortal damage without ruining the meat. In actuality, however, I had fainted.

My friend shook me, and my eyes slowly widened. He had found my makeshift kitchen.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“Kitchen…”

He began laughing, and said how stupid I was. At first I was confused, because I may be many things—tall, dark, handsome—but I was most certainly not stupid. Then I suddenly remembered that same night when I told him I would like to try human meat. He had said, “Me too.”

“Nooo!” I screamed into the cave.

But in the end, the joke was on him. He had his mouth on my thigh.

Which makes him gay.