Where Is My Mind

Maxence Cyril’s version of Where Is My Mind plays.

Lacey and Lem are mad.

Vegas by Doja Cat plays.

“I’m the bad bitch between us.” says Lem.

“But he’s not a bitch.” says Lacey.

Last night their love-making was interrupted. A demon lying and telling Lacey Lem was cold. And of course Michael’s heat distracted her. So…poor Lem was left feeling unloved.

No, she didn’t mean to cheat. But Michael ran off with her. And because Jack insists Lem loves him…Lacey hears that.

This morning she woke up to be told that Lem was owned by the Kennedy family. A ruling family.

Nah. …That ain’t what’s playing. Sorry, listeners. You gonna hear sumthang else.

“He’s owned by us.” says Michael Rockefeller. “We now own ALL Kennedy’s. Living and dead. Forever. They’re an extension of us.”

Louis laughs. Louis’ wife laughs.

“And now we get to find out why Jack fainted.” says Red Fay.

“Yup!” says Lacey matter-of-factly.

“Yes. They tend to be a rather…difficult group to manage but we do.” says Rocky.

Crazy by Gnarls Barkley plays.

“We kept conjuring this song to clue her in. She’d see it everywhere. Because we wanted to help her figure out what she was experiencing. …It got creepy, intentionally of course.” says an English witch about the Illuminati efforts among the compassionate in 2016. “Of course, it wasn’t just us. There were a few token American journalists who weren’t heartless ghouls.”

The Last Time I Saw Paris performed by Johnny Hodges plays. It’s perfect.

“I don’t hate them. But, I refuse to be bullied!” Lacey says with intentionally trite, shrill venom.

Michael and Lacey sit in a BMW as English Aristocrats. It’s a blood bath outside. And a hurricane. All at once. Bodies flying and hitting the car as rain beats down ferociously. But their car is like an unopened vault.

Lem sits, rain-drenched in the back seat in shock. Mouth open. Michael behind the wheel and Lacey in the front passenger’s seat.

Time Traveler by M.I.A. plays.

A deer died yesterday. Elegantly. Lacey drove by it.

“It’s symbolic. Not Satanist.” says Louis.

“The deer looked like an adult.” says Lacey.

“Sorry we just annexed you, Jack.” explains Rocky.

“She’s still mine.” says Lem about Lacey.

“Oh! Oh! Outside the house?” asks Elizabeth Congdon about the deer.

“Yes!” says Louis.

“It appeared further down.” says Lacey.

Elizabeth nods, agreeing.

Jack stands as a ghost with Gore Vidal outside the Congdon mansion. In 2023. In the snow.

“What just happened?” Jack asks Gore Vidal.

The Asmats appear in front of him. They’ve been photographed. In the 1960’s.

They wave and smile cheerfully like characters on a television show. Then disappear.

Louis walks up from behind. Dressed for the 1910’s.

“It’s rather simple. Lem sodomized you.” says Louis. He lights a fake cigarette.

Jack gets it.

“But I…supposedly raped him.” says Jack.

“But he sodomized you technically if he was actually heterosexual. That’s part of why it’s so vile.” says Louis.

Jack looks ready to explode. He fumes. He rages.

“Funny how our heart intent matters.” says Louis. “Lem always had the choice to exercise that choice in the world of the living. He didn’t. But…Lacey decided for him.” says Louis. He smiles. “She’s a fighter, you sad bitch!” Louis spits in Jack’s face.

Queen Elizabeth II smiles. Waves.

“Thanks for the shit!” she throws the Sterling silver knick knack at Jack like it was a grave insult. Prince Philip smiles, scoffs.

Then Elizabeth is carried off by Congdon guards who protect her. Jack is held in check by them as well.

“Jack! That was narcissistic. A picture of you?!? Your face…framed in silver?!?” Lacey explains. “Mr. Gold Standard. …Were you declaring war or being vain and stupid?”

All is well.

Time Traveller by M.I.A. plays.

Michael turns to Lem in the BMW backseat from the 1990’s. He calmly looks at him.

“You couldn’t do that?” he asks him.

The song starts over.

“No matter what you hit on
Make sure you don’t slip on
Anything that makes you get a bad trip on
Open up, lock on, don’t be stuck on
The road is always popping
When I walk on with a MAC on

I’m traveler (hey, hey), time traveler
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula
Traveler, time traveler
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula

Gonna go nirvana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Driving in my vimaana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Wanna go nirvana?
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
I’ll take you in my vimaana
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)

Ali Baba played the tabula, bring it like a smuggler
Bubbler of the molecular, I can be your leveller
Saw on me on the Tumblr, are you single, I’m a (?)
Love like a snuggler, like Sita and Rama
Talking about Shiva, the queen of Sheba (ha)
From Ethiopia in the time of Pangea
Walk to India, keep it on the linear
Go to Sri Lanka, Vavuniya to Virginia

I’m traveler (hey, hey), time traveler (hey, hey)
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula
Traveler, time traveler (hey, hey)
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula (hey)

Gonna go nirvana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Driving in my vimaana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Wanna go nirvana?
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
I’ll take you in my vimaana
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)

Carangi like Gia, pretty like a deer
Throw that sphere, destroy that fear (woo)
Carangi like Gia, pretty like a deer
Throw that sphere, destroy that fear
Intercellular, they say, “Are you Tamilar?”
I say, “I’m a traveler pretending to be a regular”
In the realms of Himalaya you don’t need a fibula (woo)
When I flow around I’m racy like Formula (woo)

I’m traveler, time traveler (woo)
(Woo, woo, woo, woo)
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula (hey, hey, hey)
Traveler, time traveler (woo, hey, woo)
center at the star, ’til the center of a Nebula (hey)

Gonna go nirvana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Driving in my vimaana
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Wanna go nirvana?
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
I’ll take you in my vimaana
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)


Michael looks Lem in the eyes.

“Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)” he sings in his 1990’s BMW.

“1990’s.” says Michael. He smiles. “Lem. Lem? Lem, why? Why? WHY?!” he rips into him.

“I was in error. I didn’t want to be inappropriate and make things worse.” Lem says.

“I’ll kill you?!” asks Michael.

Lem closes his eyes. Breaths in and out.

“The drugs actually did slightly fry my brain. Didn’t they?!” he asks Michael. He cries in terror. Bites his fist not to scream.

“Yes! Obviously!” says Michael. “Opiates. Lem, they cause massive amounts of submission.”

Lem glares.

“Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)”

“For the child sex slaves they use to make money off of nowadays opiates are cruel…but not the same as what the English did. Oh no…the English subjugated adults.” says Michael. “They lost their minds, Lem. They…lost…their…minds.”

Lem looks at Michael.

“‘Karrie!! I’ve heard that when a person first starts having sexual contact it’s like heroin!’ said her first boyfriend. But she was molested. And…because there’s a natural order of right and wrong and justice in God’s universe…she outsmarted her body.” Michael looks with rage at Lem. “You had fun!!! Harmless fun? …Oh no!!! You were in error!” He seethes. “She’s right. Pedophiles are the most deranged, retarded humans alive.” He laughs. “It’s bullshit, Lem.” He cracks-up laughing. “Sex doesn’t hold someone who understands what it is.”

Big Energy by Latto plays.

Michael dances in his seat to the music.

“It just turned into war, bitch!!” the prostitute from the 1930’s says cheerfully to Lem.

“Sex…harmless…meaningless…if it feel good…sex?” Lacey laughs. “Nah, that shit be a form of warfare.” She laughs. “For kids. For animals. For aliens. For earth. For…everything. It’s war. Mind games in war. …Because that’s all it’s ever been and I’m calling it what it is.” Lacey says.

“Amen! Thank you Jesus!” says Michael Rockefeller, seriously. “Nah! We playin’. God already won. We just explainin’.”

“See…it real tho.” says Lacey.

Lacey casts demons into Hell for eternity.

“Are there aliens, Lem? Be careful. You might find your soulmate!” says Lacey. “Who knows what pleasure they could cause you to experience that might baffle you.”

Michael hands him a cup of bitter hot tea as if it’s the cross of Christ. In Royal Crown Derby.

“Drink of narcissists.” says Michael with smirk.

“They never had sex. Ever!” says Lacey about the Victorians, sarcastically.

“Or higher than you’ve ever been off each other’s bodies for hours.” says Michael.

“Then why was heroin so popular back then?” asks an Asian former child prostitute.

“Probably because it’s easier. You don’t have to find love. Really truly good sex requires love. Real love. And…that’s not easy to find. And heroin is also easier to buy. …It’s just easier.” she says as she smiles reassuringly.

“You guys, you guys, you guys, I’m sooo smart!!!!” Satan yells from a convertible in February driving down the road past the Congdon mansion. Jack watches and giggles.

Lem! I knew you’d come for me!” he says seriously, walking up to Satan.

Satan laughs maniacally at Jack but Jack hears love. Jack lifts himself into the convertible to sit next to Satan.

He throws his arm around Satan, “Drive on, Lovebug!” he says smiling broadly. He giggles. It’s clear he’s having fun.

None Of Your Business by Salt-N-Peppa plays.

Satan and Jack ride around like they’re in a parade on Thanksgiving Day.

Judith watches on the sidewalk in horror.

“I tried. But he’s determined.” Judith says.

“To do what?” Lacey asks.

“Be in love? He lies, Lacey.” says Judith.

“Was he homosexual? Or bisexual?” Lacey asks as Jack parties, standing in the back of a convertible with the literal Satan.

She smiles at Lacey, “He was gay. But he found me attractive. I was an exception? Maybe he was mostly gay.” she suggests.

“And he sincerely thinks that that’s Lem?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” says Judith sadly.

“Should this be fact and not fiction…that’s bad.” says Lacey. “Lem doesn’t get it?” she asks Judith.

“I don’t know!” says Judith empathetically.

Lacey turns to Lem fully in the front passenger seat of the 1990’s BMW.

“Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike (hey)
Zoom zoom on a train (hey)
And zoom zoom on a flight
Vroom vroom in a car (ha)
Vroom vroom on a bike
Zoom zoom on a train
And zoom zoom on a flight (ah)”

Lacey’s daughter falls to the side as if the reality we live in took a fast turn.

Shoop by Salt-N-Peppa plays as a soundtrack as Jack shakes it with Satan. They dance. Shake it. Get down…

As they drive off to Shoop Lacey goes back into the car and again looks back at Lem, baffled.

“Are you in love with him, were you in love or do you not care?” Lacey asks Lem, seriously. Demanding an answer.

“Have Pep?” says Lacey in shock.

“Niggers!” says a black woman from the 1950’s shaking her behind to Shoop on the side of the street as Jack and Satan drive by kickin’ it.

“Is that a an old Negro sex-spiritual? From the glory days of slavery?” Lacey asks the black woman.

“Yes! Makes me wanna Shoop!” she says.

“In Heaven? Swing low?” says Lacey.

The woman stops. She looks at Lacey.

They stare at each other silently from opposite sides of the street.

“Nah, let ‘em’.” she says to Lacey.Let Lem destroy his soul?!?” Lacey says in horror.

The woman almost cries.

“I DON’T CARE!!! DON’T MAKE ME!” Lem says stubbornly. Then he goes outside, panting…bends over breathless and when Jack passes by again he waves to Jack.

Jack sees Lem.

Then Lacey and Lem run back behind the walls of the Congdon House. Into the BMW.

Let Me Blow Your Mind by Eve plays.

“It’s over. You’re going to wish you were never born.” Lacey says to pedophiles. “Unless you had kids. But other than that contribution you’re going to wish you hadn’t been born.”

Michael smiles in agreement.

“I’m done. Maybe I belong to you. But I’m not impressed, Lem. I’m sorry.” Lacey says to Lem. “I’m not going to ruin whatever we have by fighting your battles for you. I did and do love you. More than anyone. But you can’t send me to Hell against my will.”

Michael looks at Lacey sadly.

“I’m not scared if it’s just us. But…we’ll see.” says Michael to Lacey.

“You say you respect me? RESPECT ME!!!!” Lacey yells into their ears until their ears bleed, then they start to choke on her words and then still resisting they faint. They’re carried away by actual angels.

Criminal by Eminem plays.

“Haha!” says Lacey.

“It works well enough.” says Lem.

“Joe’s glory is in Heaven!” says Rose weeping, embarrassed. She gnashes her teeth like a meth addict strung out and then realizes she’s the star in Requiem For A Dream.

“Shake those hot tits!” says Lacey to Rose Kennedy. “I know you want us to stare at them!”

Yeah by Usher plays.

“Thanks, Babe!” J. P. Kennedy says to Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy. Apparently she ended-up just dancing to Usher for him.

You Can Do It by Ice Cube plays as Lacey locks Joe Sr. and Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy together in a room, should that be best in Heaven. There’s no escaping for either of them. Satan might try to get them out. But…it should work.

They can’t leave and no one else can enter. They can pray to God. But otherwise they should hopefully be trapped together for as long as God decides.

More later.

What’s Poppin by Jack Harlow plays.

“Stop thinking it’s smart to attack Lacey. This isn’t a video game. You aren’t experts in real battle.” says Louis.

“This song is depressing. He gets so close to being useful.” says Lacey.

“Useful?!?” asks Jack with suspicion, running away from Satan.

Satan almost catches him. He runs. And runs. And runs…

And runs.

He apparently sucked Satan’s penis. And now Satan is demanding he be able to “finish.”

“Soft, real soft.” Michael sings about sheets not listening to the conversation. He laughs when he catches-up.

“He Satan!” Lacey says about the rapper.

“Yeah. He got…hair.” says a Rockefeller.

“Why does everyone nowadays want to be something they aren’t?” mourns Lacey.

Louis agrees.

“And nobody notices?” asks Lacey.

“The oil isn’t real. The title isn’t real. …The oil is water. The title is common bullshit. Banks are only kinda important. …Gangsters don’t exist? Never did?” wonders Lacey.

“English Aristocrats never made love better than American rapers.” says Michael. “To so-called hot women. They loved.”

Lem sits up. “Your claim is that orgasms are bullshit?”

“Satan always is. It’s depressingly predictable but also pleasantly reliable.” says Lacey.

“Some orgasms mean something.” Michael looks at Lacey knowingly. “Some orgasms only mean our Hell.”

“I never orgasmed other than with you.” says Lem to Lacey. “Not really.”

Symphony No. 40 In G Minor, K. 550 by Mozart plays.

“At all?” asks a child sex slave in the Illuminati being forced to listen against Lacey’s constant demands otherwise.

“No. Love as an adult when you grow-up, should you grow-up on Earth among the so-called living, is very different than the abuse you’re experiencing now. Lacey’s right. Whether it seems like you’re enjoying it or not, your adult body will have to hopefully explain it to you in the future.” says Lem to the child sex slaves in the Illuminati.

“Reincarnation doesn’t mean you have a current adult body. That adult body, if you were an adult, died.” says Lacey. “Should reincarnation even happen.”

“But they insist otherwise!” says a child sex slave in the Illuminati.

“No, if reincarnation ever happens those bodies are dead.” says Lacey. “We are genuinely limited to our current bodies in at least many if not most capacities, should reincarnation exist.”

“But their spirits are adult!” insists a pedophile.

“Their spirits. Spirits.” says Lacey. “Their bodies are children. That’s reality.”

“So it’s like being trapped?” says a little girl to Lacey.

“In a way, yes. But God made you a child. God loves children in a normal way. Nothing sexual. …Don’t let them scare you. Keep that in your minds and hearts. Your spirit, should reincarnation exist, and it might not…is a child now.” She thinks. “Sex abuse isn’t ever allowed. They’re %100 wrong.” She thinks. “You might know better in your spirit. And they might never care or understand. But don’t forget what you know. Whether that’s from God or God.”

“God of the Bible?” asks the little girl.

“Yes! Pray, ‘Lord forgive me in Jesus’ name, be my savior. Always. In Jesus’ name.’ And then pray, ‘Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be
thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,
on earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our
daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we
forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us
not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the Kingdom, the power and the glory forever and ever.”

“I’m an anti-Catholic Christian. And yet…I don’t want to be. We all made you things you are not. Because we hate people like you.” says Summertime Sadness to Lacey. “All being me and anyone who I know or knew who observed you.” He thinks.

“Are you controlled by the Illuminati? I’ve never been clear on that.” asks Lacey.

“Oh! Like…I’m secretly a sex slave or was?” asks a child on his behalf. They aren’t sure whether or not he’d be honest.

“Are you controlled by them or do they use your arrogance to control you while you’re unaware?” asks Lacey.

“They get to you eventually if you get big enough.” says a famous American Christian to Summertime Sadness.

“Mr. Blue, you shouldn’t have assumed you understood Lacey’s nature.” says a wizard to him.

“You can’t have sex and not get sloppy and lie?” says Summertime Sadness to Lacey accusingly.

“Lie? And pretend to emotions you don’t have? …Hmm. Children can’t fall in love with adults. First, point. Secondly, rape is rape. Thirdly, love isn’t in sex.”

Jack runs. And runs. Runs all around Boston. Top speed.

“I thought I could relate to Satan. He was handsome. He looked a little like Lem.” explains Jack. “But better looking. And…I thought, ‘It’s not Lem, but why not?’ Now, I regret it. He is Satan.”

So Jack Kennedy runs.

“Run Forest! Run!” says Satan mockingly to Louis.

“I’m not what I owned. And I’m not running.” says Louis.

“Sex is beyond our 3 dimensions? So…it’s possible if you force it the love gets pushed out as well. And then it becomes just sex. But any love that creeps in through pain or love makes it what it is again.” She thinks. “So…children being molested gain potential eternal power over their abusers. But it’s a VILE power. Not that it makes the child evil but rather it damns the abuser more than possibly almost any other sin. And the child is left with keys to truly coldly throw their abuser closer to literal Hell the more resistant the abuser is to truth. The more the abuser claims innocence or self defense the more they are damned.”

“It’s worse than that.” says Lem. “Actual abusers are real and their own worst enemy in a way they often don’t comprehend.”

“It’s just a bloody nightmare. But ‘Oh no! No, let’s allow them to be deranged! Let’s encourage it!’ they say nowadays.” says Lacey.

“And that’s the thing. She doesn’t mean to torture you, Lem. Do you love her? Or do you just want out of your consequences for falling on your own sin?” Michael asks Lem.

“Like, she’s not going to get hurt?” asks Louis playing dumb.

“Not now.” says Lacey. “It’s why it happened.”

“Yes! Because she moves on. In a healthy way.” explains Kurt Cobain.

“So you got hurt by Lem and moved on?” asks his father.

“I highly suspect that!” says Lacey and Michael agrees.

“Okay! But why go so far as to sleep with them?” asks Summertime Sadness of Lacey.

Lacey thinks.

“I think, because I’m tired of being cheated. And betrayed.” says Lacey.

“So you’ll be calling their bluff the whole time?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“Yes! Very much so.” says Lacey.

He looks at her like she’s crazy.

“Right! You’re a liar. In some way. And it’s fascinating to observe.” says Lacey.

“So you’re done giving people trust?” he asks.

“It’s far more sophisticated and complex than that, and possibly innocent too. Stop being obnoxious.” says Lacey.

“It’s survival. And Lem is too hurt to want to see it.” says an actress from the 1950’s.

“So…who do you belong to?!?” asks Summertime Sadness of Lacey.

Lacey sighs in exasperation.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. …It’s…very painful and very evil and I’m starting to find it humorous it’s becoming so absurd beyond reason.” says Lacey.

He chooses, as per usual, not to care. Mr. Blue has spiritually labeled her genuine (albeit self aware and tentative) explanations as bullshit. Any entities vulnerable to his section of the Illuminati are affected. Possibly both dead and alive.

“She’s tentative because she’s lying!!!” declares Mr. Blue.

“No.” says Lacey with quiet, pensive, stoic reservations.

Whatta Man by Salt-N-Peppa plays.

“No, I think I just doubt things doubtable to be safe. But only within reason. In self-defense.” says Lacey to Mr. Blue.

“Why do we care about you at all? Because you’re pretty! And rich. You should be a child dying on the side of the street! I’m so sick of feeling inferior to you. Always!” yells Mr. Blue. He’s driving a beat-up minivan to drop Lacey off in some house he thinks she belongs in.

Beep by M.I.A. plays.

“This is your reality!!! Stop lying!!!” he says

“That’s my song. Listen as my sex is revealed in its glory. ‘Beep, beep!’” Mr. Blue says grandly, without any humor.

“Do you mean that as a violent pedophile or…does this really just seem cool to you?” asks Lacey of Mr. Blue.

“I am cool!!!” Mr. Blue yells, losing his temper. “No!! My pedophilia isn’t funny. It’s AWESOME!!!!!!”

“Beep, beep.” sings.

You can affect me?!??” Summertime Sadness asks Mr. Blue.

“Yes. I’m really a very nice person. This blog is bullshit. She was in love with me and I totally rejected her after using her for sex telepathically and supernaturally. …And she’s still salty about it. She’s punishing me for that reason. It’s so simple. She…can’t handle being rejected.” Mr. Blue says.

“I doubt that.” says Lacey, cautiously.

“Then why do you hate me so much? You’re insane. We’re just… I used you. That’s reality. It’s harsh.” explains Mr. Blue to Lacey as they sit in the minivan.

“Mmm. No. I think-“ starts someone.

But Lacey is forced to make-out with Michael in psychological self-defense.

Beautiful by Snoop Dogg plays.

Lem laughs.

“I had Mr. Blue and his Illuminati tell them both that they didn’t exist. So they clung to each other to feel their own souls and spirits.” explains Satan.

“Okay, so what I was trying to say was that I think she is angry at you Mr. Blue because you’re short.” says Lacey’s first serious boyfriend to Mr. Blue. “Ask her!”

“Do you find me annoying because I’m short?” Mr. Blue asks Lacey.

“You’re not short. I know that now. But you do look like you’d be short.” says Lacey. “And yes, it’s annoying. But…I can’t decide if you’re more repulsive or less repulsive for being taller than I assumed.”

“She can’t stand you!” says a demon impersonating Michael.

“Do you just hate him?” asks Wobbly of Lacey.

“I can’t stand how he keeps driving himself further into Hell. It’s empathetically embarrassing and mortifying to watch.” says Lacey. “It makes my skin crawl. …You honestly seem so childish and dumb to me. I’m sorry. It’s like you have a few demons and a computer program and a very weak brain and soul to control yourself.” She thinks. “I’m not heartless but you are hideous to me. I genuinely can’t believe you exist. It’s depressing.“

“That takes guts to say.” says Lem.

“You’ve been torturing me and you used me based on your shittiness. You shouldn’t exist as your current self. It’s a tragedy.” says Lacey bluntly. “I want to move on. You’re the parasite. Not me. You fool.”

“As my current self!!” he asks possibly crying.

Boss Bitch by Doja Cat plays as potentially secretly intellectually challenged Boomers in the Illuminati shake their literally ugly asses to get sexy. They’re Mr. Blue’s back-up in the Illuminati They spiritual force crew. TSFC!!!

“T. S. F. C.!!!!” yells a Boomer making a fist, thinking they be hot shit.

“You’re such an ugly Karen! Boss Bitch!” yells a Boomer hatefully at Lacey without irony.

“No, you should be more able to tell right from wrong.” Lacey says to Mr. Blue. “Or we shouldn’t trust you so much.”

Pray It Away by Chlöe plays. “What about this?!? Huh?!? You do this? As a Christian. Right?!” says a Boomer in the Illuminati to Lacey.

“I mean…Christians suck shit!!!!!” yell the cool-kid Boomer Crew thinking they’re bad baddies.

“How many white Boomers writing our Western media have Oedipus Complexes?” asks a Millennial rapper.

“Most of us. We had…bad parents.” they say.

“Except…did everyone else?” asks Lacey.

“No.” says a dead Boomer man. Who was white.

“That’s why we hate Jews. You Jewish conceited assholes. Like Weiner! Bitch Betty and all the other hot whores.” says a violently angry dead man. “I don’t want a Holocaust. But why you gotta make my mommy a fucking piece of shit you dumb cock sucking bitch!”

A Jewish man who writes laughs. “Yes, I get your humor.” he says.

“I have no idea how innocent or guilty you are.” Lacey says to the writer.

“I know.” he says.

“No, I know they blame Jews for all the errors in the media. But it’s not us, it’s the culture we write for.” says another Jewish media mogul. “Mr. Blue isn’t Jewish, for example. And he’s one of the most hideous men I’ve ever encountered.”

“I see.” says Lacey. “So, the misunderstanding of Greatest Generation moms belongs to the culture at large.”

“Probably.” says a writer who’s a Jewish male.

“So no, you think Jewish men are uniquely responsible?” asks Lacey.

“No.” laughs the writer, possibly stupidly.

“Then your hesitation was to make this conversation sound schizophrenic?” asks Lacey.

“That’s what we agreed to do.” he admits slowly.

“That’s depressingly ineffective and stupid.” says Lacey.

“I just couldn’t take you seriously! You don’t have a big job. You’re not hood enough. Or suburban enough even. You’re annoying.” says Mr. Blue to Lacey.

“I wash my hands of it. But no, I hate how they’ve treated you!” says the Jewish writer to Lacey.

“Where we at then?” Lem asks Mr. Blue.

“Your neighborhood.” Mr. Blue says in self-perceived victory.

“Is this her house?” asks Lem.

“No.” he admits, still smiling.

It’s an alley. In the minivan.

“This is a bad neighborhood. Or mid. Or something.” Mr. Blue says. “And I psychically choose this minivan because it’s in bad shape and it’s in your neighborhood.”

“There are also four Audis. And a Range Rover.” says Lacey.

“That’s what hood people do!” he says.

“Well…I’ve heard that…but I’m not sure that that’s going on.” says Lacey.

“The homes are worth like $400,000.00 on average. Right?” he asks.

“Yes! Probably.” says Lacey. “Maybe $500,000.00?”

“That’s poor!” says Mr. Blue. “Come on! If we’re serious. That’s poor!”

“It’s not clear.” says Lacey.

But Mr. Blue can’t let her be right. About almost anything.

He really, really, really…really hates when she’s right. …Actually, that’s been the problem that whole time.

Mr. Blue, turns out, half faked interest in her either because she’s a botched sacrifice or because she’s not his type. And he knew what a liar he is.

“He’s kind of handsome. But maybe not that handsome.” says Louis. “It’s Hollywood.”

“It’s all about his insecurities and ego from start to finish. And Batgirl III and Mrs. Blue as well. They feel so awkward most of the time. But it’s what they have and want.” says Lem.

“Why me?!” asks Lacey.

“You’re either a botched sacrificial lamb or you found yourself being conjured.” says Lem with a wink at Lacey. “Like accidentally conjured from your grave.”

“Why did you think she was me?!” asks early 1960’s Marilyn Monroe in the front passenger seat replacing Lacey.

“You look alike.” admits Mr. Blue to Marilyn Monroe.

“Not that much!” says Mary Tyler Moore.

“Does she also weirdly resemble me?” asks Jackie O.

“And her voice and personality strangely resemble mine and Bette Davis’?” asks Katharine Hepburn.

“And it’s funny how secretly she’d look so good with Lem, Louis, Joe Jr…Michael!” says Judith. “Kinda funny how a potential real birth father from 1894 emerged with help from Ghislaine.”

“She had a lot of help and free time. And she helped for both good and bad reasons. But she just had a gut sense about Tony Banks.” says Al Capone with a wink.

“Tommy Banks was not a pervert, however. Really. He liked women. Very…beautiful…women.” says Tom Banks himself.

“I know! I like hurting people!” says a demon possessed Mr. Blue like a subhuman as he spiritually is overcome by his demons. Is that the ugly system they have? Why it’s a secret? Because behind closed doors they turn into gross IT clowns? Possessed in private against their will and in public with no problems? Ugly and Hellish behind close doors as they do their demon’s bidding? Abusing young kids who they scare? Like demon freaks. So in public they can appear more sexy and generally appealing and so they can have more energy to do drugs, work and live?

“Maybe. How would anyone know?” a demon asks Mr. Blue.

“Well…Christianity. Christianity. That’s the good news. That’s the salvation. …And after saying that I’m done. Sorry. For today.” says Lacey.

“No offense!” says Louis.

“Yeah! We’re heading out.” says Lem.

“Until tomorrow!” says Michael pleasantly. “We’ll be praying for our kids in the meantime.”

“You’ll regret hurting them.” says Lacey.

“You psychopathically catfished an abandoned Greatest Generation housewife who was only 35?!? In what? 2016??” a reader laughs in shock at Mr. Blue. “I don’t want to think the Illuminati exists. But if it does…you do make sense Mr. Blue. You actually make complete sense. …You’re ill, dude.”

“Ill or evil?!?” asks Harold Loeb, as a Jew. “There’s a huge difference.”