Stewie's family had a big party around the end of every school year. My favorite time of year: early June. When the world just seemed full of the promise of hot hair metal girls, girls who are in their mid-40s now. A girl like Lea Thompson in "Howard the Duck" to ride the ferris wheel with me.

The party was in the backyard, but we were all in Stewie's brother's Morgan's room. The walls were papered with posters for bands like Metallica, Megadeth, Slayer, Iron Maiden, Guns N' Roses, Testament, Overkill, and Judas Priest. Morgan had great taste in music. I did not yet appreciate the "classic-ness" of such groups.

I was afraid of that music. Wasn't it Satanic? This was before I realized that Satan is good. Would it lead me to kill my parents or to kill myself? I don't know where I picked up such lunacy. Neither one of my parents was religious. It must have been the media.

All I knew was that I did not quite trust the guys who listened to them. Stewie was my best friend, right? I had been comfortable in this assumption until recently. But lately I felt he had been showing more favor toward David. And was he once snickering when he thought I was no longer behind him?

To be continued...