Undone – The Sweater Song by Weezer plays.

Lacey discovered today that she was involved in a mix-up. Memo sent her a sample of Sintra in an Ocean Leather sample vial. …It was labeled correctly in its cover…but the vial was mislabeled. …She discovered this by sampling Love Don’t Be Shy.

…She also asked Lem why he would have pursued her. Why when he seemingly refused to pursue most other women.

“Because you’re prettier than all other women in my eyes.” he said.

“No, really. What’s the reason?” asked Lacey.

He thought about it.

“Because I would have wanted to sleep with you.” he says.

“Why?” asked Lacey.

He smiled. “Because I would have wanted you very badly…and you would have wanted me very badly and I would have known that. …You would have slept with me.”

“I’m not loose.” said Lacey, confused.

“No.” he says seriously, reassuringly. “You don’t sleep around. Nor do you want to.” He thinks. “But you know with us it would have been different.”

“Lem, you and Michael and possibly Louis are rare exceptions.” says an English witch. “Maybe you more than the others.” She laughs. “We’ve made Lacey look loose. But…in reality she’s far from it.”

Another English witch giggles. She nods in agreement with that. It’s not everyday the Illuminati finds your eternal soulmates in Purgatory.

“Did they find them?!” asks a Wobbly.

“I was just wondering. Why can’t they find everyone’s soulmates?” says Lacey.

“Well…” responds a living U.S. President, flummoxed.

“Maybe not everyone wants help.” says an actress.

“Why did you?” the U.S. President asks.

“I didn’t necessarily. …But it seemed to happen. And…I like to think it was the kindness of the English.” says Lacey.

A Putin nods.

“Yeah, I suppose they did try.” says the U.S. President.

“It was the benevolence of Queen Elizabeth II really though. She was…one of Britain’s greatest Queens, I think.” says Lacey.

Lem smiles.

“I agree!” Lacey hears a female voice say. The woman may claim to be the actual Queen Elizabeth I.

“So Queen Elizabeth I…admires Queen Elizabeth II?” asks a British singer.

“Highly admires!” says the dead woman?

“Should there be an Illuminati…they really get caught between actually caring about you possibly more than the parents who raised you and wanting to literally kill you.” says The Charismatic.

“If they care I-I think part of it is my imposing love for the U.K.. My permanent, unyielding, unconditional love for England.” says Lacey. “My allegiance to Great Britain. …Because I understand it, maybe. And love it. Forever. If God allows.”

Lem laughs. He loves it. He is English in heritage.

“Lacey what do you think of-“

“I would have just loved you. Almost instantly too. …That’s why we want each other.” says Lem to Lacey.

She thinks.

“Lacey, what do you think of American football?” asks an Australian.

She thinks.

“I want to believe people could fall in love that quickly. …And I know I can, actually.” she says to Lem. He offers to cosy-up with her on the sofa. She accepts.

“I find it fascinating. Not in a way of enjoying it, exactly. Like golf I enjoy…” says Lacey. She thinks. “Hiking, skiing, tennis.” She thinks harder. “Figure skating.” Then, “But…it’s an intriguing thing.”

“It isn’t as pretty as polo.” says a hater, possibly seriously.

“No. It’s not as noble either.” says Lacey. “It’s harder to defile polo with self-defeating bullshit.”

“How far would you go for love? Or clear skin?” laughs a hater. The Super Bowl commercials are…commercials.

“Far, but not so far as to destroy someone’s life.” says Lacey.

“Hmm…is chain mail cultural appropriation?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Yes! Unless it’s your heritage and you’re making some allusion to it out of respect and love.” says Lacey.

“I’ll be shocked if you’re not a tiny bit Scottish.” says Lem to Lacey.

“Fascinating how?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater of Lacey.

“I just turned Rihanna off. She looks like a pedophilic piece of shit.” says Lacey. “Kids are watching and she’s up there practically masturbating.” Lacey laughs at the banality and desperation of Satan. “I’m disappointed.” She thinks. “Maybe we won’t even watch next year…”. She thinks. “Maybe they held her at gunpoint to perform. It’s like a suicidal minstrel show organized by the pampered, sheltered, arrogant, brain dead fools who brought you recent Balenciaga.”

“We’ll put you and you’re Scandinavian family in an internment camp.” says one of them.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Because.” he says.

“Because…you’ll be at war with Norway?” asks Lacey, repulsed by the developing stupidity of the conversation.

“Yeah. …Because we’re Muslim. You don’t know who we are.” he says.

“I’m not scared. Stop fronting.” says Lacey.

“You should be.” says the hater. “We’ll push you off a roof!”

“Then I’ll die.” says Lacey. “Are you a demon or a human with little to no mental ability?”

A commercial with pookas appears. Then a reference to Michael.

“They are dead, you know.” says a Tutu.

“But they don’t share their ass like a criminal and own billions of US Dollars, hoe!” says Lacey sarcastically.

“Well…I still like Kansas City.” says a dead man from Missouri.

“Jack…played football.” says a hater, laughing.

“He should have played polo.” says Lacey.

“I agree.” says the man from Missouri to Lacey. “And let me tell you something…you’re not dying until God is good and ready for you.”

“Well there goes football?” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“I still like football!” says Louis. “And I’ll tell you something…these aren’t shows for men. They’re shows for gay men and perverts.”

“You didn’t find Rihanna thrilling?” asks Lacey.

“No. I was married, first of all.” he says. “That outfit was trash. …But it’s hip and cool.”

“It’s very early 2020’s.” says a gay man.

He cringes. “I-I-“

An essential advertisement about basketball and black culture plays. Starring a Boston reference…that reminds her of the Kennedy’s. Specifically Bobby and Joe Jr..

“How should Rihanna have been dressed?” asks an older man of Louis.

“For a family show? …Appealing but not offensive. …Don’t they usually dance but not so…obviously?” asks Louis. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Like cheerleading.” says a football player.

“Some cheerleaders might be offensive. But mostly, I guess.” he says.

“So it’s weird. This show feels dead.” says a Millennial lesbian watching. “It’s not exciting.”

“What did you think of Rihanna?” Lacey asks her.

She shrugs. “I mean…whatever.”

“So it’s not a clear yes from you either?” asks Lacey.

“It feels dead.” she says.

“It’s alienating. Not be ironic. But really, I feel alienated.” says a bisexual woman watching. “It was super racist, super heteronormative. And I’ll concede it was also totally inappropriate for children.”

“Then why were we supposed to enjoy it?” asks the gay man.

“Because of the aesthetic.” says Louis.

“No, I see what you mean.” he says.

“Did you not enjoy football?” Lacey asks Lem.

He got angry during the Halftime show.

“We have you cast as a very Liberal, edgy, sassy gay man with a big heart.” says a gay man to Lem.

Lem is cold as ice in response.

Then, “Do you want your kids watching that shit?” Lem asks him.

“No.” says a southerner.

“No.” says the gay man.

“Who does?” asks Lacey. “An idiot or a pervert?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” says the gay man to Lacey.

“It’s not exactly inclusive, either.” says another gay man.

“Okay, but it’s American Football.” another gay man say to Lacey. He laughs.

“Why did they ruin it? …For a sport supposedly somewhat Republican in its vibe…they are totally missing their audience.” says Lacey. “How angry are the fans?”

“Do you think they’ll show it?” asks a Republican of Lacey.

“Of course. And it won’t be pretty.” says Lacey.

“Really?!” asks a Democrat of Lacey.

“Yes. It’s on a very subconscious level.” says Lacey.

“A feeling of betrayal.” says the Democrat thoughtfully.

“I did not like football.” says Lem.

“Why?” asks a gay hater.

“It felt…too sexual.” says Lem. “After being molested, I didn’t feel they comfortable being so sexually childlike around other men.”

Michael laughs. “I see what you mean.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” says a football fan.

Lem laughs. “Okay, first of all…those clothes are so sexual.” says Lem. “And they always were.” He thinks. “Who are they showing off their butts, privates, and broad shoulders for?!” Silence. “The cheerleaders? I doubt it that’s a conscious thought. For each other? …Then why do they traditionally hate homosexuality? …And then they run around so innocently. Running like enthusiastic, mindlessly cheerful toddlers.” he says. “It’s…uncomfortable.” Silence. “As an adult man I just couldn’t enjoy it. …But I actually did and do like sports.”

“Which sports?” asks a Boomer actress.

“Golf. Crew. Sailing to some degree. Racquet Ball. Tennis, possibly. Swimming. …Football.” says Lem.

“What about hockey?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” he says.

“Have you ever played polo or cricket?” asks a hater.

“Yes.” he says. “I like both.” He thinks. “I also enjoy rugby.”

“What about fox hunting?” asks a Millennial woman.

“Lem, I hate to interrupt. But did you by chance…find American football to be kind of gay?” asks a Boomer actress.

“Yes. In a traumatic way.” says Lem.

“Was that an answer to both questions?!” asks the actress.

“Yes.” he says.

“Do you identify with the Fox?” asks a gay man. “Or the hunter?”

“Both.” he says. “I bet you’ll think that secretly means I was bisexual? No. I like Lacey, a woman, and that’s it for as long as God allows. And it’s not about killing the fox out of cruelty but because of what they do to attack other animals.”

“Lem…do you think American football is about sexually repressed gay men?” asks an American female comedian.

“I think it can be. Easily. …Not always, of course. Maybe it’s a sizable minority who feel safe hiding in it.” says Lem.

“Well, I know my husband isn’t one of them. And I just enjoy it.” says a woman who’s husband loves American football.

He nods very seriously in response.

“Lem, why did you do that?!” asks the woman, angry at Lem about his relationship with homosexuality.

He looks sad. “I’m sorry.” he says, sincerely. “I had an intellectual understand of homosexuality I gathered out of fear and desperation after being molested and not understanding what I experienced. …And that was the understanding I carried with me most of my life to a degree that affected me gravely. Horrifically. …I didn’t understand sex the way people of age commonly do today. I was born in 1916… I felt sad. Lonely doesn’t begin to describe how I felt. …Although I was deeply lonely and I didn’t know that I was. …I really was tragic. My family loved me. They sadly knew better in my case. Some families don’t. Mine did.”

“Do you feel bad for Jack?” asks the woman.

“Yes.” he says. “He was not helped by my friendship either. I was a terrible enabler of his self-destruction. …I may have saved him at first but it stopped there. After that I was…not his worst nightmare but certainly not his friend.” He thinks. “He needed someone to warn him. Not reinforce his false sense of security.” He smiles. “We have to go.” He and Lacey leave the conversation.