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Dug out my copy of The Faculty last night, and settled in with some nice weed to put me in the mood for an eyeful of geek courage and punk-ass rage. Discovered a little something I hadn't given much attention to before...

Zeke Tyler has an absolutely luscious neck.

He's got that teenaged tenderness to his skin, and throughout the film, the heat makes a slight, constant rime of sweat that sits on him like some kind of molecular lace. You can almost see the scent rising up off the nape of his neck, the sharp bristles of his recently hacked-off hair clinging together in the warm salt dampness, and imagine the shell of clammy moisture against your fingertips just before the heat underneath pushes outward into your hands. He'd smell like leather, and ocean wrack, and warm bread, his soft mouth twisting in a wicked smile that says he doesn't care which way it goes, so long as he ends up on top.