That’s dark. It reminds me of a story.
A little old lady goes for a stroll in the park, when she sees a man sitting on a bench wearing a trench coat. As she walks closer, she realises he isn’t wearing anything else. She sits next to him and after a minute, he turns to her and asks, “Would you like to touch my penis?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” she says. “I’m a widow and I haven’t touched one in years.”
“Go on,” he says. “It’s like riding a bike. You don’t forget.”
So she does. And every day for the next few months, she goes to the park and enjoys her encounter with the man.
One day, he isn’t at their regular meeting spot.
“Oh, well he was old,” she says to herself, thinking he’s died. But after a few minutes, she sees him on another bench with another little old woman.
“You bastard,” she says. “You’re cheating on me! What’s she got that I don’t?”
“Parkinson’s,” he replied.
Most of them die after that.