“You bear a striking resemblance to Queen Scotia in her more recent, white depictions.” says a Freemason to Lacey.

“She does. Not that they’re identical. Lacey is lighter. But there’s definitely a close resemblance in some white depictions.” says F. Scott Fitzgerald.

“Like in this one:

That’s almost Lacey completely.” says Zelda. “Lacey has finer features and a softer chin line. Her lips and nose are smaller. But her eyes are creepily similar. And her overall impression is similar.”

“How about you envision that lady, but prettier…when you come up with your endless bullshit.” says Scott.

“Lacey is better looking but yes, they look a lot alike.” says Joe. “She’s a rare beauty.”

“Joe, she’s genuinely hotter?” asks a straight guy.

“Yes.” he says.

“So…huh. Scotia-lookalike, why…don’t you understand Lem’s pain. Being married to you?” asks the gay man from before.

“Try that again.” says Lacey.

“Lem was gay.” he says. “Right?”

“We don’t know either way for certain according to current science. But…that’s not what he’s said to me.” says Lacey.

“Then Jack’s not gay!” says the gay man.

“How so?” Lacey asks.

“If Jack is gay…and Lem isn’t….and wasn’t….then who in hell are these people, sweetie.” he says. “I’d say just go be with Michael. But I know you love Lem.”

“I would never want to be in a relationship with someone against their will or even close to it. Truly. It’s deplorable! …But…let’s unpack that anyway. …First of all, are you sure that those closeted married men of the past are all gay? Couldn’t some of them be bisexual? Or pansexual? …I think yes. And then how unhappy with heterosexual marriage were they? And how much was just a way out of their problems with another problem? A problem that absolved them. Secondly, why are they just societal victims? Regardless if they were straight-gay or bisexual they could have it probably did lie to their wives. They used those often vulnerable women. …And yet we’re supposed to always and forever empathize solely with the liars?”

“They were afraid of being killed.” says the gay man. “It was like the Jews living through the Holocaust. They felt they had to lie to stay alive.”

“Yeah. You don’t know. They used to take all openly gay men and shoot them. In the street. In their heads. Shamelessly.” says a Gen Z gay man.

Lacey laughs.

“I don’t think that’s funny.” says the aging gay man.

“Except Lem was supposedly clearly gay. You still think he is. Why wasn’t he shot?” asks Lacey. “Or did the Kennedy’s give him a heroin addiction to kill him because he was gay?”

No. They did not try to kill him because he was supposedly gay.“ says Wobbly.

“They maybe weren’t as sweet, sad and innocent as you think they were.” says Lem of closeted gay men of the past.

“Well…I’m sure their wives suffered. But-“ starts the gay man.

“But what?” asks Lacey.

“It’s their fault.” says the gay man.

“How?” asks Lacey.

“Because they’re dumb women. And they’re selfish. …And they shouldn’t have expected sex.” he says.

“The women who marry gay men now or in the past?!” asks a dead black woman.

“All of them?” says the aging gay man.

“You know, what are we actually proud of?!” asks a Gen Z gay man.

“Existing? If you’re not just mentally-ill.” says Lacey.

“But should we be not just mentally-ill, we aren’t a race or a religion or a country. We’re a naturally occurring orientation.” he says, laughing.

Lacey thinks. “True.”

He sighs. “I think we…have a right to be excited. We made so much progress. But…I have a feeling your main contention with us is…not what we’d expect.”

“Hmm.” says Lacey.

He sighs and purses his lips together. He takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes.

“Your main concern is that we took sooo long to get where we are. …Beyond how you legitimately question our legitimacy.” he says.

“That’s true.” says Lacey. “You’re men supposedly in love with other men. If it’s legitimate then why the delay? Really?” She thinks. “You didn’t have kids to protect, necessarily. You weren’t enslaved. You weren’t necessarily easily identifiable. You had enormous power and privilege in Europe at times. …Why now? It’s baffling if you’re legitimate. I’m sorry.”

He thinks. “Maybe we just didn’t value romantic love enough until as of late.”

“In marriage.” says Summertime Sadness.

“Then what are you proud of?” asks Lacey.

“Romantic love in gay marriage being possible.” he says.

Tommy Banks laughs.

“Being possible?” asks Andrew Cunanan.

Their eyes get big.

“What?!” they asks him.

“It’s sounds like a pipe dream.” he says. “So you all get naked, paint your bodies with glitter and shake your genitals around…en masse…with special flags…and a-fireworks. For a pipe dream?!” He shakes his head. “I get it. But at the same time…you sound like the scum of the earth!” He cries. “What are you celebrating?!”

“Hey, Tony Saprano, does Andrew bother you at your criminal club downtown?” asks a new money (old money identifying) New York City Illuminati man. He’s being serious. Not at all insulting or funny intentionally.

“Stop!” says the Gen X gay man.

“Why? Isn’t it hilarious to you, you narcissistic prick?” asks Lacey.

“Please! I’m better than you!!” yells the old-money identifying New Yorker at Lacey in his spirit. “I’m BETTER!!!!”

“I do show-up. Why?” asks Andrew.

“Umm.” says a black woman laughing with Lacey.

“Sweetie, here’s where we go.” says another black woman laughing with Lacey.

“I get so confused at times like this.” says Lacey.

An English witch nods her head in understanding.

“Confused the way you got confused when other men came on to you?” asks Lem of Lacey.

“You know I had family in the night club business too.” says Barbara Walters.

Tommy Banks laughs again.

“Yes.” Lacey says to Lem. He sighs in response.

“I’m not mad at Tommy Banks.” says Andrew Cunanan to someone.

“Why would you be?!?” asks a gay men in the Illuminati.

Andrew Cunanan scoffs. “For all you know I like Jack.” he says.

Barbara Walters cracks-up laughing.

“Are you violent these days?” Barbara Walters asks him in her interview voice.

He smiles.

“Barbara, if there’s anything going on between Jack and I it’s not anything to worry about. The Casablanca is where we met.” he says. “Not The Gay 90’s. Very different venue.”

“Well, but maybe homosexuality isn’t allowed in Purgatory.” says Lacey.

Laughing from somewhere.

“Andrew, did someone introduce you to Jack? Or did you find him?” asks the aging gay.

“She’s right. I might just be mocking all of you.” says Andrew. “But if I am…why? And no. Of course I became obsessed with him once I found out he was secretly gay.”

“Was your father anything like Tony Soprano?” asks the New Yorker.

“No. I doubt it.” says Lacey.

He blinks repeatedly. Over and over.

“Were you straight, Andrew?” asks Barbara Walters.

“I was gay.” he says. “There were exceptions. But I was generally always gay.”

“Do you consider yourself gay now?” she asks.

“If I’m not in Hell, no.” he says.

“Are you and Jack an item?” she asks.

He laughs. “Oh Barbara. I think Jack and I are becoming friends.”

Photos emerge of Jack and Andrew together smiling.

“We have fun.” he laughs.

“Any regrets?” she asks him.

“About Jack?” he giggles.

“No, I mean-You know what I mean.” she says.

“Yes! Many!!” he says. “But you know, it’s-We’re dead.” he laughs, shrugs. “I’m dealing with it. …As you understand from your own current experience being dead.”

“Any recommendations on what to order at The Casablanca? I haven’t been there yet.” she asks.

“The seafood is good. And the Casablanca is also a drink. It’s delicious.” he says. “I don’t go there often. But I have gone, of course.”

“I have to ask, do you kill Jack?” she wonders.

“For fun?” he asks.

“Yeah, I know Lem killed him in self-defense. But do you do it for other reasons now?” she asks.

“He’s a friend.” says Andrew. “We just meet for drinks every once and a while and have fun. We’re like brothers by this point.”

“Blood brothers?” asks Barbara.

He gets serious. Anxious. “God is the one to ask. Blood is such a thing.”

“You’re right. Good to be careful.” says Barbara.


Lacey wants you to know that she isn’t Scotia reincarnated, and if she is it’s only mere Christianity. Truly.