Parting Glances: Saving Gila monsters

I'm here to report that there's afterlife hope for gay serial killers (well, at least one so far); and presumably, on the basis of biblical other-world inclusivity: straight, bisexual, transgender and questioning serial killers as well.
I'll add – again sharing the precious promise of a truly magnanimous, heaven-sent, bingo cover all – pardon's also there for war criminals, dictators, mass murderers, and those worrisome, cantankerous hockey players who frequently ice their mean-spirited pucks with a vengeance onto a rival team player's unguarded, skate-by patooty.
If you know a serial killer personally or, secondhand, some Attila the Hunk, er, Hun, spread the good tidings (they needn't be LGBT-Q). But be on the safe side. Do so with a bench-press buddy who, tho' inwardly meek and lowly, outwardly looks butch as hell.
And now the winner of Mayhem Monopoly – Go to Jail; Don't collect 200 years; Wind up in Heaven rent free – is (Gosh, I feel so nervous) – Jeffrey Dahmer! Handsome, cipher-faced, necrophilic ritual murderer, cannibalistic gourmet, sociopathic killer of 17, mostly black guys (one, a 14-year-old, who got his head hand-drilled twice).
Yea, verily. Ye of little faith. Ye for whom this cruel, cruel world is often a vale of hissing tears. Guess what? There's hope for EV-VER-REE-BODY! Jeff Boy, gay serial monster – the first of his slimy breed to belly crawl down the old salvation sawdust trail – got himself saved (just weeks before he got off'd, prayerfully dropping the soap, in a prison shower).
Washed clean, as the old hymn says, in the Blood of the Lamb! Preach it brother! On your knees, foul sinner reptile! Repent! Glory-O! Jeff Dahmer. Glory-O! Saved! Saved! Saved!
But, fair play ol' me, I won't vouchsafe an opinion one way t'other whether our Jeff has been welcomed lovingly at Pearly Gates; whether at this very moment, with folded, downy angel's wings and dayglo-shiny, size 9 halo, he looks content, at peace with his soul, worthy of belonging to the sweet singing choir of apostles, saints, martyrs, faith healers, true believers, TV evangelists, Log Cabin Republicans.
When it comes to the afterlife (and whether my unretouched passport photo will get me eternal legroom there) I defer to the experts. In Jeff Dahmer's case, the expert is prison minister Rev. Roy Ratcliff who saved and baptized Jeff (before some dirty, SOB inmate brutally knifed him).
Rev. Roy – with grammatically correct coauthor, Lindy Adams – relates the 208-page testimony to Jeff's hallelujah conversion in "Dark Journey, Deep Grace: Jeffrey Dahmer's Story of Faith." ("I feel very, very bad about the crimes I've committed. I think I should have been put to death by the state for what I did," frets Jeff, with just a touch of modest and becoming understatement.)
Rev. Roy spent seven months counseling the lonely pariah, after which he became convinced of Jeff's sincerity. "He became a real person to me, so I referred to him the same way I would anyone I knew personally. I called him Jeff. He was ready to die. I was the one who was unprepared."
Comments Christianity Today's September book reviewer: "(Deep Journey) tells the disturbing yet redemptive story of how, by God's grace, an atheist, pedophile, and mass murderer repented and believed in Jesus Christ." (Three strikes but home free.)
This inspiring tale of a Gila monster spiritually taxiderm'd sells for $13.99 (Leafwood Publishers). No plans have been announced – as yet – to send copies to families of Dahmer's unsaved victims or, for that matter, to make a PG-13 movie.