By Matt Martinek
If someone had told me a few years back that I would end up writing a fictional account of Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer’s personal interactions with each other in a hellish afterlife, I would’ve looked at this person as if they were insane. But surely enough, this outlandish creation, known as The Oddest Couple, was born. And I’m going to tell you exactly how it came to be in the first place.
In order to understand the story, you first have to understand a little about me. Up until about 5 years ago, I wasn’t writing at all. I was stuck in a real soul-crusher of a job, running a stockroom for a local defense contractor in Western PA. As some of the parts were expensive, the stockroom itself was housed within a locked cage. So there I was, in my early 30’s, behind bars, alone, for 8 or more hours a day, counting screws and washers and kitting out parts for the assemblers. It felt like I was in training for a stint in the state pen. But honestly, I didn’t mind it too much. It paid the bills, and I was pretty much my own boss. Nobody gave me a hard time. I performed my daily duties well and went home. The only times when it really became unbearable were when work was slow. Unfortunately, around 2017, certain avenues of business for my company dried up, and the slow times began to overtake the busy ones. Whenever this would happen, there was nothing for me to do but cycle count the entire inventory. Every single piece. Thousands upon thousands of parts. And it was kind of comedic, because every time I would conduct a new cycle count, the quantities rarely changed, as the workers weren’t busy enough to use any of it since the previous count. After a year or so of these rough times, I didn’t want to count another screw or bolt ever again. So I didn’t.
Many years before, directly after high school, I attended college and eventually attained my Bachelor’s in English Literature, with a minor in Journalism. The best way to learn how to write well is by studying those who already had, and so I did. Swift, Blake, Garcia Marquez...the list went on and on. Unfortunately, after I had graduated, I was unable to put my newfound skills to monetary use, as jobs in the field were scarce and I was getting married soon and looking to start a family. I needed to find work quickly, and I did. But in the realm of writing it was not. Early on, I did pick up a few paid publication credits with some poetry, but nothing substantial. Those skills that I had learned, however…they never left me. And never will.
So, fast-forward to the parts-counting nightmare that had become my life. There came a point when I made a conscious decision about the use of time at my workplace. Bright and early on a random Monday morning, instead of cycle counting for the thousandth time, I sat down at the desktop, and began to put down a few words. I had always loved horror, and even though I had never dabbled in the genre before, something told me that it was time to try. By Wednesday, my first short horror story, The Ledge, was completed, and by the weekend it had already been accepted by a publication. The decision I had made had turned out to be an important one. Sometimes, you simply have to take your own future by the balls, even if you have to break the rules a bit.
I continued to write…on company time, of course. If the supervisors would’ve learned of my activities behind the cage, I would’ve been fired, for sure. But I simply didn’t care. I was already at the point of considering other lines of work, so fear of losing my job was not really a thing for me. In less than a year removed from my decision to follow my passion, I had already self-published my first full collection of short stories, What Evil Lurks. One of the stories included in this collection, Mr. Chocolate, kind of turned my trajectory from traditional horror a little. The story itself was inspired by Jeff Dahmer. The fact that Jeff had literally worked in a chocolate factory around the time of his exploits was always a point of interest to me. With the type of jokester he was growing up, and the fact that he had taken body parts to work with him on occasion, I had always wondered…did he ever add anything extra special to the chocolate as he ran his mixer? This idea was so strong in my head that I took it and ran with it. To this day, Mr. Chocolate has been published in many different venues…magazines, anthologies, audio…it is definitely one of the most popular tales I have written. By making this story, and using the inspiration that I had, it really made me start thinking more and more about serial killers in general. Not just what they had done by admission, but also the what-ifs, and the things that they MAY have done…the secrets that ended up with them in the grave. Another interesting idea came to me…the impossibility of these serial killers being able to speak with each other, to learn from each other…to compare their tactics. It was at that point when it came to me. I would make the impossible possible. And, deep down, I knew that I could.
Ever since I was a kid, I loved and relished everything that I found to be dark and disturbing. I couldn’t get enough of it. Films, comics, books…I became immersed. It wasn’t until I viewed the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre that I began to bridge the gap between fictional and real-life horror. As soon as I learned that the character of ‘Leatherface’ was based on an actual human being, I wanted to learn anything and everything about this man. His name was Ed Gein, and, as I’m sure most of you are aware, he was as depraved as a person could get. The dismembering, the wearing of human skin, his art projects…this tickled a nerve in me that I never even knew existed. I wasn’t sure what it was…the taboo aspect of it? The shock value? I didn’t know. All I knew is that I loved it. Every new sicko I learned about was like a new file of depravity, locked away in my head, that I could revisit whenever I wanted. And often, when the fictional horror wasn’t enough, I relied on these real-life cases to get me there. Little did I know how much this would factor into my life decades later, as I began to write stories on a whim.
From my inspiration I had experienced already, I knew that Jeffrey Dahmer would definitely factor in to my new project. After ingesting so much of what the media had offered up about him over the years, I had come to the conclusion that they were kind of missing the point about him and his story. They had dumbed him down so much, and portrayed him as some sort of drunk, ignorant deviant. I knew that there was much more to Jeff, and more to the underpinnings of his crimes. I wanted to bring some of that to the surface, and in order to do this, I knew I would have to invite the readers in to Jeff’s very abode…Apt. 213 of the Oxford Apartments themselves. They would need to take in the surroundings, and accept the truths that were hiding in plain sight. A man’s home is his castle, after all, right? So, I had chosen the setting for the story, and one of the main characters. But who to choose for the counterpart?
From early on, as the project had just begun to marinate in my mind, I already knew that a big part of this story was going to rely on comedy, as the overall premise was so damned outlandish already. Choosing Jeff’s counterpart would be the absolute key. I thought of it in terms of choosing two partners for a comedy duo. You gotta have the straight man, and you gotta have the nut. Jeff, by his very nature, was the latter. That was a given. So then, who would play it serious…who would play it straight (insert pun here)? In my mind, Ted Bundy was the only one that I knew of who could give Jeff a run for his money…the true Yin to his Yang. As I began to picture these two fellows, alone in Jeff’s apartment, opposite but somehow the same, scenes from the old television show The Odd Couple began to play out in my mind. And that is when the title, The Oddest Couple, came into being. Perfect.
Jeff and Ted would play well off of each other…of that I was sure. The scenes came to me with ease…there was not much questioning from me at all. That’s when an author knows it’s going to be good. If there is no struggle, as if the story already exists somehow, you already get the feeling of satisfaction as you chip away at the stone. You are now unearthing a long-lost treasure… an act that is both exciting and rewarding. As the story became clearer in my psyche, I was quick to realize the elephant in the room, which would be present at all times with these two characters, causing constant tension…a tension that would progress the plot as well as the mind frame of the characters. Of course, this would be their sexuality. And just barely underneath that surface would exist their egos, which would add another layer of tension. Ted was the showman, who felt as if he was better than everyone else. In his life, he proved it often. He was well-educated, had escaped prison twice, acted as his own defense during trial…he had a polished role readied for every situation he found himself in. Jeff, however, was quite different. While also an actor of sorts, his roles often came into existence through external means…be it through alcohol, mythologies, or even film. He would pick and choose, to whatever suited him at the time. And after his arrest, Jeff’s softness of tone and always calm demeanor spoke volumes. His true nature was never captured by neither film nor audio. He wasn’t sure how much to show, even when it no longer even mattered. In my opinion, after all the research I had done on these two, it became clear. Ted already knew exactly who he was, or was at least busy believing in the lie. Jeff, on the other hand, was still attempting to figure out his puzzled existence, piece by ill-fitting piece. You have the rigid and the scheduled, versus the malleable and the unpredictable. Such a perfect storm, indeed.
I had a very clear goal in mind as I set out with this demented experiment. I wanted to create an aide to the truth, while it masqueraded as a simple piece of shock value. Above all else, though, it needed to entertain. Within writing a few chapters, I came up with the final variable that would make the equation solvable. Art! But I was looking for something very specific. I was searching for the perfect balance, somewhere half between a gritty graphic novel and a cartoon. As I thought about what this could turn out to be…the finished product to share with the world…I knew that the artwork, if I could procure it at all, could make or break the project. I threw out some feelers about the project on Facebook, and within an hour of doing so, I had a response that simply read “Yes! I want!” I assumed that it was from a person who was interested in reading the project itself, but I soon realized that this person actually wanted the job of illustrating my fucked-up story. Her name is Wendy Ramirez (my Venezuelan princess, as I call her), and she quickly sent me some examples of drawings she had done. I knew, right away, that she was my missing piece. Her work was exactly what I was looking for…the perfect balance between the serious and the tongue-in-cheek. Imagine that. This project, insane as it was, coming together so easily. I wasn’t forcing anything…it was almost automatic. It kind of creeped me out a little, to be brutally honest, as if it needed to happen. Self-fulfilling prophecy? Who knows?
I continued to write the book, as Wendy worked in tandem with the art portion, a half a world away. I guided her a bit, but for the most part, she understood the vibe I was going for. The small language barrier aside, it was a more than pleasurable experience. I finished the rough draft within a few weeks, while I waited for Wendy to close up her part of the endeavor. I was chomping at the bit…I absolutely could not wait for the unveiling. As soon as I received the drawings in their final forms, I began to put the manuscript together. Self-publishing was the route that I took, for two reasons. One, I wanted full control of the look and layout. And two, I knew that it would take forever to find an appropriate publisher who had the balls to take this sort of thing on. And so, in the summer of 2021, The Oddest Couple was released upon the world.
As I fully expected, it took a while for the book to gain traction. I wasn’t working with a traditional publisher, so the marketing footwork had to fall squarely on my shoulders. I shared the project with whomever I could, using social media, YouTube, etc. As I had recently quit my full-time job (thanks for the good times, fellas), my pursuits were now solely mine to own. As time went by, thankfully, interest grew, and the fruits of my labor finally began to pay off.
The things that I enjoyed most, as the book began to take hold of the subset of folks it was truly written for, were the personal messages I received. If you see that you are moving product, that’s great, but if people are personally letting you know how much they enjoyed it…that is where the true satisfaction comes from, for an author such as myself. A five star review means a lot, but if they truly take the time to critique it, that shows true appreciation. Each public moment spent on something that I’ve created forms one more smile upon my face. I’ve put a hell of a lot into this, so when I get something back, it’s a wonderful feeling.
Things were not all sunshine and roses, though. I considered myself primarily a horror author. When I shifted slightly into the realm of true crime and such, I began to see my share of naysayers amongst other authors and the public, as well. There always exists the argument that such projects may be in bad taste, and actually help to glorify the actions of these cold-hearted killers we write about. Sometimes, unfortunately, this may be true. And, if you take The Oddest Couple at face value, it becomes an easy target for such a moral attack. As I said earlier, there is more to this than the simple shock value…much more. But you have to give it a chance in order to realize that. And, as far as using these real-life monsters as characters in my story? In my opinion, once a fellow decides to take it upon themselves to dismantle other human beings and eat their parts, that story becomes as public domain as it can possibly get. Sorry, folks, that’s just how it is. There will always be products related to serial killers, and the demand for them grows every year. These monsters gave us the ammo, and we sure as hell are going to use it.
Eventually, I began to put this project in my rear-view mirror. I had more stories to write, and more exciting projects to take part in. My strength seemed to lie in short stories, so I followed that path. And yes, as chance would have it, I added another popular serial killer into one of these tales. The inspiration for it came from a real-life object. I had recently acquired an original painting done by the notorious clown himself, John Wayne Gacy. It was #22 of his Death Wish series, which just so happened to be relatively rare…probably 25 or so left in existence, maybe even less. I was originally going to pick up a Pogo painting, but I thought better of it when I considered the resale value of something that was not nearly as limited-edition as #22 was. And not nearly as personal, either. John had dedicated a Death Wish to every one of his victims…even the last victim…himself. You can’t get much more personal than that. As soon as I received the piece, inspiration hit me like an absolute bolt of lightning. And so, I went to work. Within a few days, my new story, #22, was completed, though I did not try to place it with a publisher right away. I honestly didn’t think anyone would bite on it. It was gritty, it was nasty, and it was evil. I kind of felt dirty as I was writing it, strangely enough. After all, it was fine just sitting on the shelf…sometimes an author keeps a few things, just for themselves. Eventually, though, there was a submission call that I came across that seemed to be searching for exactly what I had been holding back for months. So, I gave it a shot, not expecting much. Surprisingly, #22 was accepted, and included in the Savage Realms Press anthology Symphony Of The Damned. To my amazement, my story was one that truly stood out from the rest of the group, and was mentioned in nearly every review I read about the anthology. It was only then that it had dawned on me…this was quickly becoming my niche. And then, of course, there came the fan requests for a sequel to The Oddest Couple. But I wasn’t sure. Not at all.
With The Oddest Couple, I had already accomplished what I set out to do, and really had no intention of continuing the story. And, between Jeff and Ted, I didn’t really know what else to say, especially considering the way I ended the book (don’t worry, I won’t spoil it). At the same time, I wanted to reward the folks who had gotten behind my endeavor in the first place. There would have to be something fresh, something new. I realized that I would need to add a new character to the story. Ramirez? Kemper? Albert Fish, maybe? But then it would no longer be The Oddest Couple at all, but instead a trio. I was stumped, which is a rarity. So I sat on it, to maybe let the idea flesh itself out in my head a bit more. Or, possibly, I would let it fall by the wayside all together. Regardless, I didn’t want to force it. If I forced it, the story would surely be trash.
The true path forward came to me with a title. It just popped into my head, as I was taking a shower one evening. Inspiration sometimes comes at the strangest of times. ‘Three’s A Crowd.’ I kept saying it slowly, over and over again, like a mantra, and by the time I was done saying it, it had changed slightly to ‘Three’s A Clown.’ This stopped me cold. That was it! Obviously, I knew who the third member of the trio had to be…John Wayne Gacy himself. This afforded me new opportunities to explore with each of these characters. How would they interact? Who would be dominant, personality-wise? It was intriguing, to say the least. Gacy had always struck me as the ultimate puzzle amongst any of the killers I had ever studied. He was prolific, he was careful, and he was living multiple lives, with multiple roles in each, all present at the same time. Gacy was a business owner, an honest-to-God part-time clown, a husband, a father, a Democratic precinct captain, and an all-around good guy, according to his neighbors. And oh yeah, he raped, tortured, and killed at least 33 boys and buried most of them underneath his house. I mean, how on earth could all of this be true? You could double the amount of hours in a day and still not be able to pull the kind of schedule old John was tackling. That’s the problem with capable people. They can literally do whatever the hell they want, good or bad. John was the perfect example of this. He was an absolute chameleon. In my estimation, neither Dahmer nor Bundy came close to this as far as complexity of character went. And yet, there seemed to be an unmatched rage and rawness within Gacy, as well. I wanted to introduce these layers into the new book, and add a new environment, as well. It would no longer be Apt. 213, but instead Gacy’s house, in the very midst of his murderous reign of terror. In order to convey the seriousness of Jeff and Ted’s predicament, I made a conscious decision that I would have to lessen the comedy a bit, and fall into a more tragic, realistic part of the tale. That would be, if I could get Wendy on board again with another round of illustrations. Without her, I wasn’t going to try it at all. I needed the exact same style. Nothing else would do.
Thankfully, Wendy jumped at the chance to take part in the sequel. With everything in place, I began to copy down all of the scenes that were already playing out in my head. It was entertaining to switch the roles that had been set in the previous book. It was a new situation…Jeff and Ted now had to take a back seat to this monster of a man they were dealing with. Control was now completely out of their grasp. And, as before, the words flowed from me without issue. The situations I portrayed were gruesome, perverted, and revealing, to say the least. I wanted the reader to be uncomfortable, but in a more realistic way than the first book offered. Before I knew it, the manuscript was done, and Wendy was finishing up more of her amazing illustrations. I had to laugh, because just as the situation in the story had changed, Wendy’s depictions of Jeff and Ted had changed slightly, too. They were now weaker, and more vulnerable…almost sickly looking from the abuse that this afterlife had afforded them. But Gacy, on the other hand, was drawn as the true force of nature that he was. It felt a little like Déjà vu as I formatted the finalized product. Did lightning strike twice? Would people dig it? A little over a year since the first book was released, The Oddest Couple II: Three’s A Clown hit the market. And strangely, I became a little depressed, as I knew that I was most likely saying goodbye to these characters for good. But I was also thankful and appreciative to the fans who urged me to make the second book in the first place.
Looking back on these crazy stories that I have created over the past 5 years, I am nothing but grateful. The thing that every writer wants (at least those who are worth a damn), above all else, is the chance to be immortal…for their work to continually be discovered as the years go by. As far as The Oddest Couple I and II go? Exactly the same. Decades from now, I would like for people to still be able to enjoy it, to learn from it, and to even be disgusted or pissed off by it. As long as my work is there, then I am there, and that means a hell of a lot. Like it or hate it, it is a one-of-a-kind project, and will remain as such.
For right now, at least, the popularity of these books is growing on a daily basis. I was very excited to learn that part one will be included in the upcoming Savage Realms Press anthology WTF! (a very appropriate name) in a black and white format. You can also pick up the original full-color books on Amazon, as hopefully these will always be available digitally or in print. You might even be able to snag some signed copies on Etsy, while supplies last. And, last but not least, I am proud to announce that I have partnered with true-crime publisher Serial Pleasures (the only publisher with enough balls) to release a special collector’s edition of both volumes of The Oddest Couple combined. This edition includes exclusive content, as well as a larger formatting. It is the true way to enjoy both books, back-to-back, as I envisioned them. I have to give a special thanks to the always amazing Nico Claux, owner of Serial Pleasures and true crime tour de force, for helping me out on this…it is much appreciated. Pick up your copy of The Oddest Couple: The Collected Edition at SerialPleasures.com or Amazon.com. And, as always, on to the next adventure! I’m not going anywhere!
Editor's note: this piece ran in Serial Killer Magazine and is reproduced as written. It is an author writing about writing fiction, and the book it describes puts Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer in an invented afterlife; nothing attributed to either man in that context is a record of anything they said or did. The roster figures behind the real names: Ted Bundy thirty confessed, Jeffrey Dahmer seventeen, John Wayne Gacy thirty three, Albert Fish three to ten or more.