The first thing Victor noticed when he got home from work was the number of cars on his lawn.

The second thing, after he circled his block twice and finally, cursing, settled on parking around the corner and trudging back through the cold, was the number of flower arrangements in his front window. Baskets, wreaths, and other assortments filled the space, making it impossible to see inside.

He hadn't forgotten a party, had he? This was all he needed after another goddamn twelve-hour day at work.. He and Carrie used to socialize quite a bit but lately neither of them had been very outgoing. Too damn tired, Victor would say, and she'd grimly agree. Then he'd grab a six-pack, hit his favorite chair, and try to make the day go away.

He stopped at his door and felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Close up, he could read the message on some of the wreaths. "Our Deepest Sympathies," one said.

*Oh Christly crap on a polo pony, someone died,* thought Victor, panicking. All of his fatigue faded away in the cold rush of panic. One of the kids? His mom? Carrie? No way, no way in fucking hell could that have happened and no one told him, just couldn't happen. His heart racing, Victor grabbed the doorknob and yanked the door open.

Inside the house his worst fears were waiting. All of his friends were gathered there, wearing black and looking miserable. His best buddy Steve was in a suit, which was startling enough no matter what color it was. Steve's wife Jacquelyn was wearing a veil. Victor's brother Vince was there, looking decidedly somber, and so were Carrie's parents. Some of the people from Victor's office were milling around the hallway. The girls from Carrie's salon were hugging each other and openly crying. Somewhere, mournful organ music was playing softly.

Victor just stood there, mindblown. Carrie's mom looked up at him from behind her handkerchief and stared at him helplessly, her eyes welling up without a sound.

"Who…" Victor said, then cleared his throat and tried again. "Where's Carrie? Where are the kids?"

Steve moved aside to let Carrie through and Victor's heart started again. She rushed over to him and threw her arms around his neck. Behind her, to Victor's sudden and immense relief, were their two sons, looking confused and unhappy.

"Oh, God, Victor," Carrie sobbed. "I can't take this!"

He patted her back and looked around again, trying to take score of who was missing. "Honey," he whispered, "who's gone? What happened? No one called me, I-"

As one, the crowd of people in the living room bowed their heads and parted, allowing him to see into the dining room for the first time. More flowers filled the space. There was a black cloth over the table, and on top of it lay a small black box.

Carrie let go and stepped back, touching Victor's face tenderly as she pulled away. "You need to pay your respects," she said with a slight catch in her voice.

Victor looked around for a clue but no one met his eyes. He walked forward slowly, terrified at what he had to face. As he passed Jacquelyn she touched his arm and smiled a brave little smile. It was like a nightmare. His legs moved of their own accord, and the room seemed to be moving too fast.

His breath solidly stuck in his throat, Victor stopped at the doorway. The box was jet-black, about the size of a shoe box, with a small brass plaque on top. It was lying on a bed of flowers. Now that he was close enough he could read the name on the plaque, which read, "Victor's Penis, 1965-2004."

Crushing waves of anticipatory despair suddenly had nowhere to go. They crashed hard against the back of Victor's eyelids instead. "What the…?"

"Kids, go on upstairs now," Carrie said. They left, still looking confused. She walked forward and put her head on Victor's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"What… what the hell is this?"

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and stood aside. Before he could say anything else the kitchen door opened and his brother Vince came through it, wearing a priest's collar and vestments, which was a definite clue something was up. Vince's only acknowledgement towards a higher power was if someone sneezed.

"Everyone, gather around," he said solemnly. They did, jostling Victor closer to the box. He stood there, mouth open, as Carrie squeezed his hand and listened.

Vince opened a small book, which Victor recognized as a local guide to dog racing. "We are gathered today to say goodbye to a dear friend, someone who has touched the lives of everyone here. Victor's penis."

Someone sniffled loudly.

"Its passing was a shock, a reminder that we are human, and death awaits us all. Once strong and vigorous, Victor's penis finally left us last night after a long and debilitating illness that kept it weak, and chair-ridden." Vince spoke in a hushed, respectful tone, but the muscles behind his jaw were twitching.

"Now wait a damn minute," Victor finally said. "Just because we don't get crazy every night, I don't-"

"It has been nearly two years," Vince said loudly, "since anyone here has seen Victor's penis in its full health, but we choose to remember it fondly as it once was: young, vital, and only slightly smaller than mine."

Victor started to sputter a red-faced objection but stopped when he noticed, with a shock, that Carrie was nodding mute agreement. *Two years? Really?* Victor tried to remember the last time they'd made love. *When the Patriots won? No, before that…*

Vince stepped back a step. "If anyone here would like to say a few words, please do."

Steve pushed between Carrie's parents and stood solemnly, his hands clasped before him. "I just want to say that, uh, I've known Victor, and his dick, almost from the time they met. We were kids together, you know, playing and stuff, but I was always just a little bit jealous of their relationship. I'd go to his house every day to play baseball or something, but no matter how early I showed up he was already playing with his dingdong. You just couldn't separate them, not even with cold water. That thing lead him into some bad choices, real woofers, and more than once I told him to get rid of his penis and run his own life, but no matter what happened they were loyal to each other. I kinda admired that, in a sick way, and I'm sorry now that I never got to tell it that."

He lowered his head. Jacquelyn hugged him from behind, and everyone else murmured support.

"Do I get to say any-" Victor said, but Carrie put her finger to his lips and hushed him.

"Victor's doodle saved my life once," came a voice from the back of the room. Heads turned to see Maryanne, one of the stylists from Carrie's salon. She was standing by herself in the living room, wringing her hands together. "I had some pretty crummy boyfriends, you know? And every one of them had a stiffie that just never let up. Morning, noon, and night, no matter where I turned there was a pee-pee coming at me. There was never a chance to just talk to the guy, maybe find out something personal about *him*, like his name or something. I was ready to just end it all and kill myself. Or go lezzie."

Then she smiled through her tears. "But Carrie told me about Victor's dick. It was like that, too, but after a few years it started sleeping more and more and she could finally relax and just talk. That gave me hope. Hope for the future."

"Oh, Christ," Victor moaned.

"I guess it got too sleepy and never woke up. She never wanted it to go away all the time, y'know, just enough to let her roll over without fear. A balance, like. I hope it was peaceful."

Several people surrounded Maryanne and hugged her. Victor was positive he heard subdued giggling. This couldn't possibly get any worse.

A tall man lifted his hand for attention. It was their neighbor Dave. Their gay neighbor Dave. "I was in love with Victor's tallywhacker," he announced, and Victor lunged for the bottle of scotch on the sideboard.

"I couldn't get a date," said Dave. "It had been over two years since my last lover left me, and I was convinced I was horrid, ugly, repulsive. I was out in the backyard by the pool, weeping into my Chardonnay, when Victor came over to borrow my weed whacker. I was wearing my skimpiest thong and while he was standing there talking to me I saw, quite clearly, that his penis twitched."

A male voice snickered, but Victor didn't look. He poured another double.

"It twitched, I tell you! It swelled, it stretched, it filled his shorts and pulled me out of my depression six inches at a time. If I could get a hard-on from a homophobe, how bad could I be?"

Dave walked over and put his arms around Victor, who was drinking out of the bottle. "Within a week I had a new boyfriend, and I owe it all to your poor dead willie." He hugged Victor fiercely and then held him for a long second. Finally he let go and backed away. "No," he said sadly. "I didn't feel anything down there. It's gone." Scattered laughter broke out. The tone of the party was definitely changing.

The tributes went on. Victor's boss described the stories Victor used to tell about his penis and their adventures, and Carrie's mom discussed her initial hatred of Victor's unit which faded after the boys were born. "But I never trusted it!" she said. "Mr. I'll-Have-Her-Home-By-Midnight-In-The-Same-Dress-She-Left-The-House-In! I tell you, it should have worn a harness!"

"We tried that once," Carrie told her, and the girls from the salon cracked up.

The laughter was pretty open now. After most of the bottle was gone Victor relaxed to the situation and laughed right along with them. It was rare indeed to see this kind of calculated sarcasm and he recognized the hand of a true master. Or masters?

Finally Carrie came forward, and everyone settled down. "When I met Victor's penis, I was in college. I hadn't met very many before, and I just fell for it. Plus the guy it was dragging along was pretty cute. He was really shy, too, sometimes I wonder if he would have even asked me out if his penis hadn't forced him to."

"Of course I would have, just not as… urgently," Victor said.

"We spent many happy years together. It was a very demanding relationship, but it never once failed to show me how much it appreciated me. Usually in my hair."

Carrie's mom clapped her hands over her ears and began saying "La la la la la" very loudly.

"It never remembered anniversaries," Carrie continued, "or to pick up dinner, or to hit the bowl every time. But it also never strayed or looked for other playmates. Except possibly Dave, and that's kind of interesting, really."

Dave gave her a two-handed boxer's salute.

Carrie turned to look at Victor. "But after the boys were born, and we had so much to do, and never enough time to do it, and we were always working, and we were always so tired all the time, well… I guess that's when it started to fade. Before I knew it years had gone by since I'd seen it awake, and by that time it was too late. I went on with my life. I had to learn how to do a lot of things myself-"

Most of the women in the room laughed uproariously. Steve made as if to playfully strangle Jacqueline but stopped when she arched her eyebrow at him and made buzzy noises.

"-And now I'm just taking it one day at a time," Carrie finished. She walked around the room to let the other women high-five her.

Victor drained the last swallow out of the scotch bottle and, with some difficulty, held his hand up. "I would like to say a few words," he said.

He looked out over a sea of grinning faces and realized, quite suddenly, that he felt happy and relaxed for the first time in a long time.

"First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this a closed-coffin ceremony," he said, and everyone cheered. "I hope you won't be offended when I saw that for most of my life, my penis has been my best friend. And like a best friend, you have to stick with it through thick and thin."

"Mostly thin," said Vince.

"Sure, there were times when he stood me up. And even more times when he wasn’t supposed to be around but he butted in anyway. But for the most part he was always at hand." That brought boos, and rueful looks from Carrie.

He reached out and took her hand. "And both of us loved you dearly," he said. "There was never anyone in the world more beautiful to us than you. Except maybe for Dave, of course."

Dave, caught off-guard, spit champagne across the kitchen floor and laughed until tears came.

"I'd like to think that my penis isn't really dead," said Victor. "See, I knew it wasn't long for this world and so I had it frozen until medical science can cure it, and on that day it will rise again and surprise you all!" The audience cheered loudly and applauded.

"I was hoping that was the case," Carrie said. There was a merry glint in her eye. "I just wanted to be sure. And there's always a chance for reincarnation. Say," she said, with a thoughtful expression on her face. "You think it might come back as a bigger penis?"

"Depends on how good a penis it was in this life."

"Oh, good."

Victor straightened and addressed the crowd. "But I want you to know that my penis would have appreciated such an outburst of devotion. Please accept my undying gratitude instead, and remember that I will get back at each and every one of you."

Vince tapped the side of his glass. "Everyone? Mourners? I'd like us to take a moment of silence in memory of Victor's dear, departed, ex-whanger."

Victor put on a serious look and lowered his head. Inside he was already making plans to spend the next weekend packing his brother's new car with balloons full of pudding. Beside him Carrie let her arm slide down from around his waist so she could squeeze his butt.

He leaned over to whisper into her ear. "Interested in desecrating a corpse tonight? Maybe we'll get lucky and rigor mortis will set in."

"You romantic devil," she whispered back, and giggled.

The service quickly devolved into a wake, with food and drink and lots of good-natured ribbing for Victor. He bore it all magnificently, even when Dave threw himself across the coffin and cried out for God to take him instead.

Finally the last mourner had gone and Victor and Carrie were left alone. For the first time all evening, Carrie looked uncertain. "Hon? Are you mad?"

Victor chuckled. "Are you kidding? You went to all this trouble because you wanted to have sex with me and you're worried I'm mad?" He hugged her tightly and buried his face in her hair. "Oh, I love you, and I'm sorry I've been out of it. In fact, I-"

His voice trailed off as he realized two things simultaneously. He was getting hard, very hard indeed. And Carrie was pushing against it, sighing softly. She nipped at his ear with her teeth and then whispered, "So, Dr. Frankenstein, wanna see if we can raise the dead?"