It was a cold and wet Sunday afternoon in mid November. The kind of day that seems to drain the energy and life out of virtually everything. Leaving in it's wake a sad, gray lifeless world. For those attending St. Andrew Church this statement could not be more true. On a typical Sunday, St. Andrew comes alive with upbeat contemporary music , Christian fellowship, and the always charismatic preaching of a young priest named Father Jared. Sadly, this was not your typical Sunday. This was a day of mourning. Billy Blackston, an active member of the church, as well as the community at large, had been struck down by a gun wielding mad man. It was simply a matter of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Now Billy's, friends and family gathered together to bid him farewell and safe passage to the after life. Many came to the podium to share their feelings and exchanged their favorite stories about him

His widow made mention of how he had been a caring and attentive husband.

His father spoke about how proud his son had made him.

His mother on the other hand, had only the strength to weep bitterly. Many tears were shed for Billy that day.

Yet, there was one individual in attendance that knew a very different Billy Blackston. His name was Blake Conrad. Unbeknown to the rest of the world, Blake had been Billy's lover. Every few months for the last three years, the two of them would find a way to escape their families and the monotony of home life.

Dodge City is a place of sin. Whatever your vices may be , you can find it there in abundance. It was there that Blake and Billy found the freedom to indulge in their primordial appetites. Together they danced in the in the city's hottest clubs; consuming vast amounts of alcohol and snorting high-end cocaine in the bathroom stalls.

Occasionally, when they grew tired of screwing each other, they pick up a whore. Sometimes it would be a girl; sometimes it would be a boy. Usually, it was some runaway, hungry and desperate for cash. After all, Billy liked them young.

Back at the hotel, Billy and Blake would engage in a variety of depraved act with no regard what so ever to the poor soul they were demeaning. When the deed was done, they toss the whore some cash and send them on their way.

Now Blake stood in the church amused by all the testimonials. To him, it seemed to paint a picture of an almost angelic being, this saint of theirs was nothing at all like the strung out, depraved man he came to love.