Summertime Sadness plays.

“You have impeccable gaydar.” says a singer to Lacey.

Lacey just watched Tik Tok and found a man who claimed he was, “flipping a hetero” by seemingly (?) crushing on a guy who he described as “The most beautiful man he’d ever seen in his life.” Except he demands to be seen as straight. And he even goes so far as to say, “I wish I was gay.”

“He’s bisexual.” Lacey says, annoyed. “He reminds me an enormous amount of JFK, actually.” She thinks. “See…the thing is though he claims to have had numerous heartbreaks. And…why is he describing this man as ‘the most beautiful man he’s ever seen?’ That’s weird. He’s ever seen? …Ever? So he goes around checking out men?” She thinks. “See…he sounds not straight in his voice too. And his vibe? …He doesn’t seem straight. I’m sorry. And…I wonder…just how gay he actually is.” He thinks. “Even if homosexuality isn’t allowed in Heaven…some people experience that perspective and other people don’t. …I can’t, as in it always genuinely repulses me. Always. Always. …Always. …And that’s who I am. I’m genuinely heterosexual. …I never “flip a hetero.” Ever. Ever. …I never…find…women…attractive. ….EVER.” She thinks. “It is not fluid for me either. It…doesn’t…happen. And it never will.”

“But Lacey The Loudest Perfume Hater will vomit!” says JFK. “She’ll simply be utterly repulsed, dahling.”

“Why ever?” asks Lacey of Jack.

“Because if you never…ever…” . He breaks character. Gets serious. “If you can’t find women attractive ever then how is she straight?”


“Because she has so-called ‘hetero-flips’ and you don’t.” he says. “And if you’re the definition of actual heterosexuality then…she can’t make it into the old-money sex club.”

Lacey looks at him.

“We know that regardless of what’s allowed in Heaven…that homosexuality has been around in the upper-class to varying degrees for centuries. But to them it looks poor to be anything but straight.” says Jack. “Well…old-money types can pull it off. But…not them.”

Lacey thinks.

It Was A Good Day by Ice Cube plays.

“Like some lesbian couple in their lace bloomers in the 1900’s? Writing poetry for pages.” says Lacey. “Both old-money. Married.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

“See…tell me…do non-straight people experience a real different view of the same sex or is it like…an illusion? …Because I’ve been bullied into almost thinking I’m not straight so many times. And it’s so depressing. Each time. If you found men attractive what was that like? Did it truly feel real?” asks Lacey. “Or was it always creepy?”

Let Me Like A Woman plays.

“Yes.” he says. “They see things differently.”

“Really though?” asks Lacey.

“Even if it’s mental illness. They genuinely see things differently. Even if it’s akin to schizophrenia.” He smiles.

She sighs. “My word.”

We Never Change by Coldplay plays.

“So…they can’t get out of it?” asks Lacey.

“Not easily, if it’s not allowed in Heaven.” says Jack.

“I don’t think that’s understood anymore.” says Lacey. “That it’s not to be…repulsive necessarily. …Like…pedophiles can often, not always, but often just be psychopaths on a certain level. Because children never consent. Ever. …But…homosexuality is…like an orientation or is one whether it’s like a schizophrenic delusion that is experienced like an orientation or just a valid orientation in Heaven.”

“Yes.” he says. “They can’t just snap out of it, so to speak.”

“Then how am I not-Why do they-Why can’t I handle it?” Lacey asks him.

Always Forever by Cults plays.

“You can’t handle their poverty.” he says.

“Why? Is it just too gruesome?” asks Lacey.

“Because you can’t fix it?” he wonders. He smirks. “Or is it because you can?”

She thinks. “I can.”

He cries.

“Why did they ruin that? It worked!” says Lacey.

He smiles, cries. “I-I don’t know. You’re right. It could easily have been combined with other measures.”

“Oh I know, it’s not entirely legal. But…it’s a cruddy thing now too. And…people now are just so backward and heartless.” says Lacey.

“There are outreach groups!” says a Liberal.

“But they aren’t as effective or dignified or powerful as what we’re talking about.” says Lacey.

“You’re right.” says Louis.

“How is that progress?” asks Lacey.

“Because it got too powerful?” wonders Jack.

“And that’s why I just can’t stand their poverty. Their inability to be non-straight. No offense… Because they don’t see how…they create the problem?” says Lacey.

“Because they could just be awkward? And confused. And scared. And work out their life daily with Christ. …But they choose to lie instead and claw the eyes out of everyone else they meet thinking it will help them feel less afraid.” he wonders.

“Yes? …And destroy structures that are effective on occasion. Like deciding everyone is a little bisexual or that no one is like Lem, as he seemingly describes himself, could exist? Someone as confused as them but for wildly different reasons. And with different answers. …I’m not anything but heterosexual. Demanding any other narrative is an attack on me. You’re declaring war on my soul. …And I don’t take kindly to that.” says Lacey. “So to speak. …And I’ve tolerated it out of mercy and compassion. But…I’m growing weary.”

“I am too.” says Louis.

“I’m possibly entirely straight and always was. Isn’t that funny? …It’s also possibly part of how I got confused, believe it or not.” says Lem.

“So…pedophilia and harming animals is…derangement. Clearly. But…consensual attraction and intimacy between adults is complex?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“It’s either just heterosexuality. …And we’re going to have to adjust to that now or when we die, going forward. …Or it’s just two adults who consent. And maybe one concept is less likely than the other. But…I think what Lacey is aiming for is a reasonable dialogue. A real dialogue.” says a dead woman.

“When did we ever have a real public conversation about this?” asks Lacey. “Like, one that wasn’t at least somewhat stupid and filled with mutual violence?” She thinks. “It feels like we just collectively got psychologically pushed into these boxes. Shoved forward and ignored.” She thinks. “It’s like we’re culturally developmentally underdeveloped.”

“Like people lie? And confusions just get shoved under the rug?” asks a gay man.

“Yes. And now there’s mutual hatred, distrust and miscommunication.” says Lacey.

He thinks. “Okay. Reality check. You’re right. Okay?!” He says, agitated. “You’re probably right about Lem. But…if your father was born in 1894…you are…unusual.” He thinks. “You think like they did. And…it’s so functional.” He thinks. “But…we don’t necessarily think like that.”

“Can you try?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah…but like…that guy you saw on Tik Tok is lying.” he says smiling. “He’s a jerk. He knows he’s bisexual.” He thinks. “Or just gay. Like…completely gay.” He thinks. “And people like him are common.”

“Then why does anyone believe his bullshit?” asks Lacey.

“Oh my gosh, hun.” says a Gen X woman very contemptuously, very condescendingly. As per usual.

“They don’t!” says the gay man.

“Yes! They do.” says Lacey.

“No. Not really.” says the Gen X woman.

Lacey fells confused. Baffled. But this is a typical conversation.

Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays. Lacey loves this song. Not because she identifies with it. But because it’s so beautiful. Although she gets the aesthetic Lana is singing about.

“Lacey I think that man is closeted. Which sounds shocking to some in 2023. But…maybe being deeply in the closet could still happen in 2023 in the right circumstances.” says Wobbly.

“I wonder.” says Lacey. “Regardless, he’s what we fight with. He’s symbolic of our collective confusion.” She thinks. “He’s our collective minds expressed in one person. Not spiritually in some sort of Buddhist way. But…more…he summarizes our collective problems in that regard.”

“Because it’s not certain what he thinks or who he is. And it requires intuition and empathy to understand him. Like…is he evil or in pain or both?” asks Lacey. “And…should Gulio be gay…could they be happy if God allows it? Profoundly happy? Or no? What’s even possible? …But regardless, we can wonder who he is.” says Lacey.

And at that Lacey worries. Because no. The outreach groups aren’t Tammany Hall.

“You’re sick!” yells a hater at Lacey.

“Oh! Are you a psychopathic pedophile?” asks Lacey, calmly.

“Yeah.” say demons.

“You’re worried you’re going to Hell?” Lacey asks.

They look awkward.

“You could be. Pray to God to repent.” Lacey says to them. “Or actually, I said that wrong. I’m sorry. Pray to Jesus to save you. And repent. But pray to God for help, regardless.”

They stare.

“Yup. She’s gonna tell then about Jesus.” says another hater.

“Yup. You should pray to God to repent too.” says Lacey. “Pray fervently. Give up all the progressive ideas on the alter of the cross. See what sticks.”

She watches the train repeatedly in Ohio. Wearing turquoise. With Lem. In daylight. They watch the train ignite over and over. Louis joins them. Actually, so does Michael. Why? Because…well…he’s equally enthralled.

They spend hours studying the way the water was poisoned. The way the fish died. Someday Lacey hopes to have a better view. …How each molecule worked.

But of course, it’s date for Lacey and Lem. And Louis and Michael are either secretly worried their relationship won’t work out…or are functioning as friends. Because Lacey and Lem leave together alone.

Maybe…it’s just really fascinating. Lacey finds the way the train lights on fire beautiful in a tragic, epic sort of way. It’s…profound.

Gold Digger plays.

“Wait…Jack’s not a Gen X dude living in NYC who wears Loro Piana and is totally just humoring you. Is he?” asks a Gen X woman. “Like he’s not gay and fabulous and over your 1950’s mentality.”

“No.” says Lacey.

“And you’re straight!?” asks the woman.

Lacey looks at her confused.

“You’re obsessed with that train.” she says.

“It’s fascinating.” says Lacey.

“But it’s so butch.” says the woman.

“Oh well! It’s…fascinating.” says Lacey.

“Lem doesn’t use anymore? Right?” she asks.

“No.” says Lacey. “I worry. But no.”

“Lacey that isn’t funny.” she says.

Lacey looks baffled.

She looks upset.

“Hmm. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” says Lacey.

“Okay, so you’re hilarious. But…is the humor specific or constant?” asks the woman.

“It’s fluid. It’s jazz. It requires discernment to see it. It’s not easy? It’s organic.” says Lacey. “It’s hilarious how fascinated by trains I am. But…of course the pain isn’t necessarily funny. And Lem isn’t using.”

“But I sensed you finding something funny!” the Gen X woman protests.

Lacey thinks. “Yes. Because something likely was funny. But his sadness isn’t necessarily funny. It’s very complex. …And honestly I’m annoyed by your blind hatred of me.” She thinks. “You worry me. But get out of my way now. I’m truly obsessed with that train. I’m sorry you can’t understand.”

Gold Digger plays again.

The woman looks mildly offended. Mildly amused. She sits in an airport. Her husband looks at her.

“Maybe trains can be liked by every gender and orientation.” he says to her.

She looks angry.

“Why don’t you get trains?!” Lacey asks her seriously.

She laughs. Holds her forehead. “So…Louis is one of your soulmates.” she says. She rolls her eyes. She finds it comforting. Crying, “You really like them.” she says.

“Yes!” says Lem. “And I took her out for Valentine’s Day.”

“It’s close to where he’s buried too.” says Louis.

“Relatively speaking.” says Lacey.

“So…Louis…there are beautiful, straight women who love trains.” she says to Louis. She thinks. “Who you could love for eternity.”

“Doesn’t that sound like something God would create?” asks Zelda.

And at that Lacey goes off to watch trains pass wildly by. She asks lots of questions.

“Lem, why am I so fascinated by this?!” she asks.

“It’s me. You can sense me nearby.” he says.

“In the ground? Or where you grew-up?” she asks.

“Both.” he says.

“I might have had a bizarre experience in Wisconsin.” he says.

“Lacey you’ve spent a lot of time In Wisconsin?” asks a hater.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“And Lem you’ve spent time in Ohio?” asks a hater.

“Yes. A decent amount of time.” he says.

“Do you physically feel affected by the disaster!?!” asks a Catholic of Lem.

“No. But our family is still connected to people who are affected.” he says. “And it feels personal anyway. That was my body.”

“Do you consider these readings?” asks a psychic?

“I hope they aren’t.” says Lacey.

“Lacey if part of you is dead…where in Ohio are you?” asks a witch.

“Just outside of East Palestine. A few miles outside of East Palestine.” says Lacey.

“What’s the weather like there today?” a gay man asks out of curiosity.

“Cloudy.” says Lacey.

“Like rainy or just cloudy?!” asks a gay man.

“Just cloudy.” says Lacey. “Almost springlike.”

“How cloudy?!” asks the Gen X woman. She’s fascinated by this.

“Just mildly cloudy.” says Lacey.

“Warm for February too!?” she says, jokingly.

“Yes. It’s surreal.” says Lacey.

“You know…I have a feeling what you’re experiencing might be what death feels like for you. Like…whatever you’re experiencing is just a tiny bit of what death will be like for you.” she says.

“That’s a lovely thought. It feels like life…but far better. Like…life with…God on duty.” says Lacey.

“Like the old human laws aren’t even necessary because God is always watching anyway. And he never gets tired of watching either.” she says. “Like God is right there. Totally present.”

“Yes, but it’s not wise or right to commit suicide. I mean if you were a child in a concentration camp or in sex slavery? Maybe. But as an adult…one should die naturally.” cautions Lacey.

“What’s going on there spiritually?!” asks The Charismatic.

“It feels like the Civil War is going on.” says Lacey. “Like the same demons are involved.”

Lacey is in shock. She just found live footage from East Palestine, Ohio and it’s exactly like she saw. In her head? In her spirit? In her…afterlife?! …It’s genuinely somewhat shocking.

Summertime Sadness plays.

Lacey worries.

Turns out the DuPonts talking to her over a week ago is odd. Given Phosgene gas. …They’ve said hello before. …But they’ve never spent time chatting before.

“Is that why the Illuminati wanted to kill me? If the train derailment was contrived?” asks Lacey of the witches. “Did they think I found out?”

She hears snickers in the Illuminati.

“How are the DuPonts?” asks an actress, sweetly.

“Not well. They find all their sin torturous.” says Lacey. “They were just telling me how miserable it is to see what’s happening and not be able to stop it.”

The actress looks confused. “Why…are they bothered by it now more than before?”

“Because they feel like it’s worse than it was.” says Lacey.

“See…how?” asks another actress.

“Because it’s spreading everywhere.” says Lacey. “It’s everywhere. And it’s accumulated in our bodies. And it’s…somehow getting worse?” Lacey suggests. “And somehow I think they thought what they did wasn’t as serious. Or it was at least limited.”

“So…they feel like we’re kids ruining ourselves. For the most part. Like…those fish.” says a perfume hater. “And they feel like we’re helpless and it’s torture to watch us destroy ourselves?”

“Yes. They maybe weren’t as heartless as you might think.” says Lacey.

“Was your father exposed to phosgene gas?” asks a witch.

“Yes. Briefly.” says a dead man. “I think he thinks of her as his daughter either way.”

Transgender plays.

“Hasn’t Reta been telling you that if you die…things will be okay? But it isn’t your time.” asks a witch. “Fully die.”

“Yes. If God has allowed me to talk to the actual dead.” says Lacey.

“Why that song?” asks a hater.

National Anthem plays.

“Because it feels right.” says Lacey. “In my spirit.”

“Do you think transgender issues could be increasing due to chemicals in our environment that aren’t supposed to be there?” asks a hater.

“Of course it depends on whether or not they’re real. …But if it’s not just mental illness…then I wonder. That seems logical.” says Lacey. “Initially. Who knows for sure?”

“You’re not trans though.” says a trans woman to Lacey. “But, is it the woman?”

“No, I’m cis. But…intuitively I’d bet that if this is a thing…that that’s more likely?” Lacey wonders. “In utero.”

“That’s extremely disturbing.” says a perfume hater.

“Were you guys trying to kill her?!” asks The Charismatic of the Illuminati.

“They were. Possibly. Yes.” says an English witch.

“When the Queen was alive she worried Lacey should just come to the UK for safety reasons.” says an English actor.

“What was it like when you left the US last summer?” asks a Canadian Perfume Hater of Lacey.

“I felt far safer. Sadly. They couldn’t spiritually harass me as much. …And spiritually it felt far less oppressive.” says Lacey. “Although Minnesota is better than most places in the US.”

Quiet Crowd plays.

“You’d be surprised by how much she’d disappear for her own safety if she had to.” says J. Epstein.

An alien reminds her that he exists. Or is he just a dead Chinese man with a sense of humor?

“What did the DuPonts tell you?” asks a psychic.

“They just seemed protective.” says Lacey. “They didn’t tell me anything I wasn’t supposed to know, in any way unless they’re demons.”

Quiet People restarts. It’s a perfect song.

“No, not everyone in the Illuminati necessarily wants to kill Lacey.” says an English witch.

“What does Louis think of it all?” asks a woman in the perfume community.

“He’s weeping.” says Lacey.

“Why?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Because he’s so sad. He does love trains. And he feels like it’s just…vile. …Not love as in romantic love. But…it feels personal.” says Lacey.

“I can’t believe-“ he says in a rage. “I can’t believe they did this!!” He shrugs. “Don’t they have anything to live for?!” he screams. …”I’m sorry. It is vile. You’re cheap shit!!!” he yells. “Just be cheap shit.” he says. “You’re not my grandfather. The age of trains has passed. Get over it!” He says. “Unless you want to be inventive…get over it. …Take your expectations for personal gain down. You’re not me. Or my brother. Or my father. …You’re repulsive!!” His face contorts in a horrible manner of repressed anger. He calms himself. He watches them.

Lights Are On plays.

“I’m going to look up the Pittsburgh water crisis. And someday…decades from now…should I still see what I do today…I’ll visit your grave.” Lacey says to Lem.

“On Valentine’s Day?” Lem asks smiling.

“Yes? When?” Lacey asks.

“Don’t!” Batgirl III says, yelling. She smiles. “Come to New York. At age? What? 80?”

“On Valentine’s Day?” asks Lacey.

She nods yes.

“Where in New York?!” asks Lem.

Batgirl III laughs.

“The Met!” says Mr. Blue.

Batgirl III smiles, mischievously.

Patience by Tame Impala plays.

“I’m not sure God would want you to kill me even at 80 for your own good. …But you could ask him to? A heart attack or stroke? …I’ll tell you telepathically when I’m by the Michelangelo drafts? And…I’ll visit Lem’s grave first. On Valentine’s Day 2064.” She laughs. She clarifies, “How about I’ll-“

“No! Go to his grave on Valentine’s Day. In 2064. I’ll know. Should aliens not have overtaken us all.” says Batgirl III.

“Well…obviously this will all have to be worked-out with God.” says Lem.

“Will you even be alive?” Lacey worries about Batgirl III.

“Will you be alive?” she worries.

“That’s a good point.” Lacey admits. She thinks. “I should start visiting his grave in my 60’s?”

Batgirl III thinks. “Or 70’s.”

“I almost worry I should start in my 50’s now.” says Lacey.

“The art museum too?” she says, raising one eyebrow.

Lacey thinks. “Really?”

Batgirl III smiles. “Yeah. Or at least New York every few years.”

“Of course nothing evil can be done. Or attached. Because I don’t want anyone harmed. But…if it helps you leave me alone…I’d let you fervently pray for my death in 40 years. Truly. Unless God shows me otherwise.” says Lacey.

“It was sort of my idea.” says Batgirl III.

“I just worry. It might not be time yet or it might be too late.” says Lacey. “Or what if you die first?! …I truly don’t want you to die with murder in your heart.” says Lacey.

“You don’t think we’ll actually pray for that. You think we’ll forget or be heartless.” says Mr. Blue. “Heartless like…you’ll be genuinely ready to die and we’ll ignore you.”

“Yes. But mostly I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Including all of you.” says Lacey.

Sodus by Cemeteries plays.

Batgirl III cries. She sees an image of Lacey collapsing at night in the museum on the floor. Beautifully. Gracefully.

“And who would welcome her? Amongst the Michelangelo masterpieces? At The Met?” asks a Boomer actress.

An Englishman weeps.

“We’ll see.” say the English.

“She might just die at the grave?” says Mr. Blue.


I might pray for her death when she’s at his grave.” he says. “I need to work it out with God.”

“Woah, woah! Are you guys going to be watching?!” asks a teenager enthralled.

“Some of us will surely be dead.” says a Boomer actress. “I might. If I can. I might. If God allows it…even at 85…I might. Who really loves her the most?”

“The actual perfect murder. Except…is it right? And is it even murder?” asks Mr. Blue. “I suppose it’s what’s in our hearts. …But I might be ready to die too. I might pray for this…as I die. Out of mercy. It’s a potentially exquisite exit.”

“Are Millennials really planning their deaths with God?!” asks Thirsten.

“Please. If the End Times are a thing…God may bring them back.” says Lacey. “Or they’ll dislike where their bodies are and their dead bodies will literally walk off to a better spot for first responders. Like…they’ll walk but not fully upright.”

“You really think we’ll be that way when we die by that age?” asks a Millennial.

“Maybe.” says Lacey.

“I like you dying in the museum.” says Batgirl III.

“I like the cemetery!” says a man in the Illuminati.

“And it’s our scene.” says Lem.

A pedophilic child sex traffic man considers suicide. Prayerfully.

About The Weather by Tom Rosenthal plays.

“I think I’ll ask God where she should die.” says Lem. “And when.”

“I might be getting a vote from a living Billings that she should die on Valentine’s Day at Lem’s grave. In her 80’s.” says a ghost.

“How?!” asks The Charismatic.

“God told him, somehow, possibly.” says Lem.

“Like…God asked him somehow. And he said this in his heart?” Lacey wonders.

“So we’re literally developing opposing camps about where you should die? 40 years from now?” asks The Charismatic. “How do you channel me by the way?!”

“She does it through telepathy.” says Mrs. Blue.

“Or possibly the Holy Spirit. I’m not sure. I’m not into witchcraft.” says Lacey.

He looks terrified. “Lacey what do you look like naked? And I don’t mean that in a sexual way. I mean…could you be being made into a statue?” asks The Charismatic.

“How many times have you walked around there?” asks a perfume hater.

“Hmm. By Michelangelo?” asks Lacey. “Or Lem?”

“Or both.” says Batgirl III.

(Adult content below)

“Not necessarily for public consumption.” says Lem.

“In what? Bronze?” asks Batgirl III.

“Marble.” says Lem.

Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays.


“Lacey reexamines the lyrics. Is that if I’d been born in 1921?” asks Lacey of Lem.

“You treated me like a sister-in-law at first.” he says.

They listen.

“It’s out of time. And those are my kids. And it’s for a Millennial.” he says. “But it’s about us. Nobody’s children but God’s, ultimately.”

“Who’s driving?” asks Lacey.

“Me.” he says.

“Would you have bought a red sports car?!” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” he says.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“It would have seemed like fun. For some reason.” he says.

“I’m sorry I related to you like a sister.” says Lacey.

“I used it. And it was self-protective and you were trying to be compassionate.” he says. “Loving.” He thinks. “I don’t think you assumed I still am gay. You just thought I was.”

“Who’s into astrology?!” asks Lacey.

“Our generation, unfortunately.” he says.

Someone in the Illuminati imagines Bobby Sr. and Meghan Markle as soulmates. And Meghan somehow unfortunately thinking she was a lesbian… And Bobby trying to be sensitive to that in the afterlife. Treating Meghan like a bro. And she wonders how they scenario would play out.

“Wait…why does Meghan think she’s gay?” asks a reality star.

Then them riding through Africa. Meghan in love. Bobby treating her like his platonic buddy.

“Because…she spent a lot of time in feminist circles growing-up. And wanted to be truly liberated. On principle.” says the person. “Like she believed the only way for a woman to be free and successful was to marry another woman.”

“Is she capable of being that much of an ideologue?!” asks a man.

“I think she could maybe be that fervent…in a deep way. And if she met wealthy lesbians and fell in with the wrong crowd…what’s possible?” asks an actress, confrontationally.

“I hope she’d find herself single.” says a Boomer actress along with Lacey.

“And I mean that kindly.” says Lacey.

“When does Bobby figure it out?” asks a woman his age.

“Never.” he says. He laughs. “She’d have to tell me.”

The someone laughs. Imagining a hilarious scene.


“That music video is about this. Me…being stuck out of my time. As if I was picked up in a tornado. And then the evil I have to not be consumed by…even as it may have brought me to you.” Lacey says to Lem.

“And it’s not what you see in your head. You see us. …Should you be a ghost. Should I be dead or allowed to talk to you. …I don’t conjure you. I just accidentally start talking to you. …And I wouldn’t but…it’s very difficult not to.” says Lacey. “I’d love to write the scenes a bit differently.”

“You have.” he says.

“In the dark they sat next to the pool. Next to each other they sat…as cerulean and aqua light danced around their feet. It was around 11 pm.” says Lacey.