Project Title: I Love a 90-Foot-Tall Skeleton and We're Going to Wait Until Marriage but He Doesn't Have Sex Parts So We'll Find Other Non-Carnal Ways to Express Our Love for Each Other Like Tandem Bike Rides. (That, or Bony, But No Boning.)
Why You Will Buy My Shit, Hollywood: Any famous teen book always runs afoul of boring PTA radical factions who yammer about inappropriate sexuality. (Even Anne Frank's diary wasn't spared such bellyaching.) The point is, among all the fauna of supernatural fiction, the gashadokuro -- a nine-story-tall skeleton from Japanese mythology who likes to eat human heads -- is easily the most impossible to sexualize.
Bleach Fan Fiction Wiki
"Ladies love me for my inner beauty."
The Pitch: A giant skeleton. Chaste hand-holding. Repeat for 280 pages.
Sample Blurb: Roy leaned in for a kiss, his varsity jacket blotting out the sun. I puckered my lips anxiously, aiming them toward a 3-foot-by-3-foot quadrant on Roy's bleached mandible. Could this truly be my first kiss? I felt like the whole world was watching (but it was only Mr. Perkins, the driver's ed teacher, whose maggot-infested severed head had become wedged in Roy's right incisor). And perhaps it was the swarm of blowflies that flew down my esophagus, but something staunched my teenage lust.
I WANT TO BE ADOPTED BY A GRAVE
"Roy," I sighed. "This is wrong. I feel like one of those fly-by-night couples who meet on OkDingus or J-CupDate."
Roy smiled, because he only had one facial expression. "You're right," he said, as a nearby kite got stuck in his eye. "Let's just hold hands and delight in the all-American pastime that is a corn maze." He tented his blood-splattered fingers around me into some sort of obscene wigwam, and I leaned against his surfboard-sized metacarpal. We gazed into the maize. All was flaccid with the universe.
We spent the next two chapters playing that game where we rhyme words with "kernel."
Cyriaque Lamar is a senior editor here at Cracked. You can find him on Twitter.