Air Poop

Summertime by Sidney Bechet plays.

A little girl now dead who was born in 1947 called Joe Jr. “air poop” as a joke. Why? Because Lem is her future friend’s dad not Joe. Or Michael? But not Mr. Kennedy. Joe Kennedy is air poop who bothers mommies.

“So is Elliott! That’s what my mommy calls them.” the little girl explains. “When she’s talking on the phone.”

“I flew in the air. On a plane.” says Prince Philip to the little girl.

The little girl looks embarrassed and shy. After a moment, “I’m sorry!” she says to Prince Philip. “I didn’t know you flew on a plane!”

“Not all pilots are evil men.” says her father who actually resembles Lem. Except he’s shorter. Her father was writer.

“The men looked more alike than you might think too, Lacey.” says Ann Morgan Guillert.

Ann has yelled at Lem a lot lately. She’s trying to be fair. …She smiles.

“Oh no! Ann Morgan Guilbert! That’s… Oh no! Oh no! That makes sense!” think a group of Lacey’s haters. “Lacey I think you’re schizophrenic! …Yeah, that’s it! You’re schizophrenic!” they say in their spirits.

“Are there men alive under the age of…70 who look like Lem?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“No. Not really. I’ve been looking my whole life.” says Lacey.

“There were quite a few back in the day.” says the little girl’s mother to Lacey.

Those alive flounder.

The woman explains, “No! They weren’t all confused about their sexuality. That was just Lem. My husband never wondered if he was gay. You can ask him someday yourself.“. She clears her throat. “Lacey also struggles to find clothes. Brooks Brothers is her only choice, poor thing.”

“What Loro Piana?” asks a Gen Z woman of Lacey half jokingly and half seriously.

“It’s lovely, but the shapes aren’t quite my style. I like what we call a ‘classic look’ today.” says Lacey.

“She’s tried Chanel.” says Queen Elizabeth II. “It’s fine. But hand sewn dresses from the 1950’s fit better.” She’s being a bit crass and American in her speech today. She smiles.

“Like a glove!” says Ann in character.

The Boomers are shocked.

“No, she’s not hateful.” Ann says about Queen Elizabeth II.

Every Tub performed by King Oliver And His Dixie Syncopators plays.

“Lacey loves King Oliver.” says Reta. “And her favorite is Jelly Roll Morton.”

“Can you imagine that?! A 1950’s or 60’s First Lady who loved 1920’s jazz musicians who played in whore houses?!!” Joe Sr. says to his son in the past.

A lush, exotic villa where JFK stayed with his family in southern France is covered in People online.

“Wow! Can you imagine?!?” a Boomer says to Lacey as if her family couldn’t have stayed there.

Lacey looks at the photos. She looks at it. She is willing to be proven wrong?

“No, that’s not the villa I dreamt of.” Lacey says nicely.

They get angry at Lacey.

“No, it was a villa. But not like that.” says Scott Fitzgerald.

Harold Loeb is exasperated.

Harold Loeb is totally exasperated.

Harold Loeb is…not okay, folks.

Harold Loeb sits on a lawn chair, sprawled out in Southern France. On the side of a mountain. Overlooking the sea. Under a hot tropical sun. It’s a gorgeous scene but he’s not happy…

Love Is The Drug plays. “Love is never a drug.” explains Harold Loeb. “And I’m getting tired of hearing bullshit like that. If you’re going to reference us, be mindful it gets annoying when you lacerate our souls.”

He mad.

“It’s a good song though.” says Lacey.

Harold nods, smiling nicely.

“The house I dreamt of was smaller. And more remote.” explains Lacey.

“What?!?? You all keep setting yourselves up to feel inferior over and over again. And you’ve been at this for decades. …Why do you do this to yourselves? It’s mentally deranged.” says Ernest Hemingway to the haters.

“What’s wrong with HUGE villa the Kennedy’s rented??” asks an actor in Gen X. He may be trying to offer a hint.

“Honestly…it’s about love.” says Lacey. “Without love it’s Hellish.”

“My mom would have agreed.” says a woman in her 50’s.

“What?! The size of that villa isn’t…shattering?” asks the actor of Lacey.

“I think middle-class tourists who stayed in that area in nice hotel rooms in the last century…with happy families likely had more genuine fun.” says Lacey. “If Jack and Kick were too narcissistic to cognitively understand or Lem lent his soul to deceive them…then there you go.”

“You truly see them as dullards.” says a black witch in the Illuminati to Lacey.

“Yes. You’d have to be genuinely retarded to enjoy such utter bullshit.” says Lacey.

Mr. Blue laughs. His family is maybe a little superior to the original Kennedy’s…he imagines. …In that way at least.

“The house isn’t that large.” explains Lacey. “And it’s…meaningless. They’re just dull as dirt, big rooms.”

“Not like Blenheim Palace.” says Sir Winston Churchill to Lacey.

“Absolutely what I meant.” says Lacey.

“I am HATE that villa.” says Michael Rockefeller to the stubborn in the Illuminati.

The Lemp family agrees.

“No, you can’t steal medical progress made in the 20th Century just because you’re pouting for being told you were wrong!” Lacey says to the they.

“Isn’t it pretty?!?” Kick genuinely pleads with Lacey to appreciate the villa.

Lem feels profoundly stupid today. …He smiles.

Lacey’s been to the villa many times. In her spirit. She’s seen the rooms before so the photos don’t surprise her. It looks the same, almost. …The swimming pool in her first novel was eventually hijacked by the swimming pool at the villa. …Seemingly genuinely.

Lacey walks barefoot around the property one last time with Kick.

Smokehouse Blues plays.

“It’s French.“ says Lacey to Kick.

Kick nods and smiles to think. Sits down to think.

“It’s a villa!” says a dead French woman to Lacey.

My Man sung by Billie Holiday plays.

“In honor of the fuck-best- Fuck-buddies? No. Best Friend Fuckers? No. Fucking best friends! No… Gay Lovers of the Century: Lem and Jack.” says the little girl’s father. That’s why My Man plays.

“It’s a villa.” Lacey says to the dead French woman. Lacey thinks. “Well, I’m sure the original family had many great memories here?”

“Possibly?” says another dead French woman.

“That’s nice!” says Lacey brightly. Lacey isn’t here to sort out the personal affairs of other families if the matters truly don’t concern her.

“No, I’m sure much fun was had here!” says the French woman smiling.

“Hey! Your family you were raised in could chip in and everyone could get together and buy this place!” Jack says to Lacey…somehow.

“Do you want me to be honest?!” asks Lacey.

He looks at her in fear.

“I’d like to blow it up.” says Lacey. “Burning it down is wrong. I’d like to just blow it up. Watch on a yacht from the ocean. As a good, hearty Lacey Banks joke.” she says happily.

She thinks.

“Actually, I’d like to buy out the entire area and destroy everything down to the coast.” says Lacey. “Then just turn it as over to nature, safely. Actually Jack, I’d do that with most places. We’ve been horrible creatures, us humans.”

All Of Me by Sidney Bechet plays.

“Certainly not everywhere.” says Lacey. “Maybe not even most places.”

“Say, you’re real swell, Jack.” says Joe Jr..

My Name Is by Eminem plays.

Michael dances. …A victory dance.

“Jack why can’t you get down to Eminem? Lem makes it chill. Michael finds it groovy. What about you?” asks Joe Jr..

“It’s stupid.” says JFK.

“It’s brilliant.” says Lacey.

U Not Like Me plays next.

“What about 50?” asks Joe Jr. of JFK.

Jack almost man giggles.

“What’s funny?” Lacey asks Jack.

“It’s just… I don’t know.” Jack smiles, shrugs.

“Why are you almost cracking-up?” Lacey asks Jack.

Jack ignores her.

Heartless by Kanye West plays.

Jack lip syncs to the song. Vaguely dances, like he’s in a club.

Back to 50 Cent. P. I. M. P. plays.

Lem loses it and starts lip syncing. Does hand gestures. Bobs his head.

Jack looks suddenly stuffy. He crosses his legs and sits-up straighter. Looks upset.

“What’s bothering you, Hot Stuff?” Joe asks Jack.

“It’s the African American music these days. It’s not what I’m used to.” says JFK. “Come on, Joe!”

Criminal by Eminem plays.

“No. If you’re so heterosexual shake your ass to this music like a straight man. Convincingly.” says Judith Exner to Jack.

He stands-up at the moment Eminem sings the lyrics about the Oval Office and plane crashes. He…almost tap dances.

In Da Club plays.

“Try dancing to this one instead. You couldn’t quite dance to the other. It’ll just take some getting used to!” says Joe Jr..

Jack stands. He helplessly shakes his behind.

Lacey fumes.

“What’s wrong?! Mom.” Kick says bitingly to Lacey.

“That’s inappropriate, Jack.” Lacey says to Jack.

“It’s just a dance.” Jack says to Lacey.

Kick covers her mouth with her hands, giggles and then runs off.

“Jack why are you shaking yourself?” Lacey asks him.

Grinding All My Life by Nipsey Hussle plays.

“You’re ridiculous!” Jack says to Lacey.

“Jack what are you advertising?” Lacey asks him.

Jack looks at her. He looks secretly shocked.

“You’re crazy!” he says to Lacey.

“Do you use men or let them fuck you to feel pretty? Stop bullshitting me.” Lacey says.

He thinks. “I have fun.” he says.

“Do you think homosexuality is in Heaven or not?” Lacey asks him.

“I do know.” he says. He sighs.

“Well, if we’re going to play games…let’s play.” says Lacey. “Where’s Kick? This is her joke. Right?”

Kick is long gone. Thinking she’s won???

“Well, let’s say, because that’s popular opinion and it’s supposedly genuinely complicated, that homosexuality is allowed in Heaven. Why are you being such an immoral slut?” asks Lacey of Jack.

He closes his eyes.

“I’m sorry, mom.” he says.

“Well, just because it’s homosexuality doesn’t make it an excuse to be loose.” says Lacey. “If it’s allowed in Heaven you should find a nice man and settle down. Not waste yourself. Marriage is what we expect! And stability.”

“You know I’m just going to rebel!” he says.

“But when do you find life? Sex is sacred.” Lacey says to him.

Jack thinks.

“I know your dad is full of bullshit. I’m ten paces away from dropping him. …But not all men are that way.” Lacey gets into his face. “Your father is mentally off. I hope you aren’t like that too, sweetheart.”

The writer who resembles Lem glares at Jack.

Evelyn Waugh scoffs at Jack Kennedy.

“En scene!” says Lacey.

“So that’s what we’d all say if homosexuality is allowed in Heaven and Lacey married J. P. Kennedy.” says Evelyn Waugh.

“I still feel insulted!” says a living gay man to Lacey.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“You’re homophobic!” the living gay man says to Lacey.

“Because I insist homosexuality is in Heaven. And you questioning it is fascist and evil.” he says to Lacey.

“That’s too much to ask of Christians. You’re a pseudo-intellectual?” says Lacey to the living gay man.

“You’re trying to keep me out of Heaven.” he says.

“No. God would be.” says Lacey. “But even for a Catholic sin is sin. You confess it… It doesn’t overcome your existence.”

“I don’t like your God!” he says self-righteously.

“So, you’re sure homosexuality isn’t allowed for two adult soulmates who actually are homosexuals in Heaven?” asks Lacey.

“No! You think that!” the living gay man says to Lacey.

“I’m not sure it’s that simple.” says Lacey. “Some things are. Pedophilia is always wrong and profoundly vile. But I’m not so sure homosexuality is.”

“No!!! You’re just…lying.” says the living gay man.

“No. I doubt it!” says a living man named Dick.

“Listen, it seems very unlikely to me that it’s allowed. But…your fervent insistence otherwise is compelling.” says Lacey. “Because your perspective matters.”

My perspective matters?!?” the living gay man says, violently scoffing at Lacey.

“What is it they do to you?!?” Evelyn Waugh asks the enraged living gay man.

“You know! In your day it was worse!” he says.

“Tell me more!” says Evelyn Waugh.

Blood In The Cut by K.Flay plays. Close-up on Jack…as he silently…thinks. Sitting. Crossed-legs. In a chair.

“This isn’t funny anymore.” Jack says.

“Jack isn’t demanding Lem?” asks the living gay man.

“No!!! Tell me more about what happened to you?!” Evelyn Waugh asks the living gay man.

“Not much? I had a hard time in elementary school with one teacher who didn’t like the way I talked. She told me I mispronounced words when really I think she just thought I sounded gay.” the living gay man.

Time Traveller plays.

“Vroom vroom! That’s about the sexual superiority of gay men!” says the living gay man with bursting pride. He lifts his fists in the air triumphantly.

Jack goes into a drug withdrawal. Feels his skin crawl.

“I’m Scotia you’re mashed potatoes!” yells the gay man at Lacey seriously. He laughs thinking it’s obvious he’s “won.”

A huge group of gay men dressed like Old Money arrive with hundreds of rainbow flags and drag queens and pedophiles with no kids in a boat…storming the beaches of Normandy in WWII. No guns. Just big boom boxes playing, Time Traveller by M. I. A. to reappropriate what they’ve decided is Lacey’s homophobia.

“Yeah, she’s a closeted pedophile.” says Mr. Blue about Lacey seriously, while he’s high on cocaine.

“No, I’m not.” says Lacey seriously. “I’m not a pedophile.”

The boat arrives on the beach. No one is there.

The homosexuals walk around the area looking for any sign of civilization. It appears there are no other humans anywhere.

“Where did they all go?” a gay man asks another gay man.

“The war ended a while ago.” says a straight man who fought in the war. He’s not famous.

“But it was World War II in the ocean.” says another gay man confused.

“Yes! And this is out of living time. So now it’s not.” explains the WWII vet to the group.

The pedophiles and about a dozen gay men try to assemble an Old Money picnic on the beach in the background. They scatter Mark Cross Grace bags, Birkins made of “exotic skin” and patent leather Launer Traviatas about to appear casual, lighthearted and hedonistic. Maybe a few Kelly bags and Louis Vuitton’s.

“It’s 500 B.C. but minus any humans except for all of you. God can be accessed via prayer.” says the vet. “He’ll appear in person in a second.”

“Why are we here?!??” the once living gay man says accusingly to the dead WWII vet.

“You can’t procreate. But you also don’t die. You age depending.” he explains with sudden Heavenly protection.

“So we’re stuck here for eternity? With just each other? No kids?” asks a gay man.

“You thought you were infallible! Where’s the problem?!?? We’re gone! The Breeders left!!! The Master is gone!” says the vet.

“We’re magic! All of us!” says a black male pedophile who wishes he could shoot himself in the head and die but he can’t. He’s already dead. He walks off into the French wilderness to talk to God because it’s better than being with “these people.”

A curtain is drawn. Because we aren’t there. But no, no children are there.

Time Traveller plays.

Michael is back in the car with Lacey. Lem in the backseat.

Blood is on the windshield. They’re literally sitting in Michael’s 1990’s BMW in the middle of William the Conqueror’s battle to ascendency. Safely.

“I’m sorry your mind is such that this comforts you. And makes you feel less insane.” Michael says to Lacey.

“They’re fighting so well!” says Lacey.

She smiles with glee as horses race by wildly. Rolls down her passenger seat window. Rests her head on the door. Closes her eyes. Almost falls asleep.

Lem sighs. He still can’t understand why Lacey slept with anyone but him…or he can’t get over it.

“No! No, I don’t want sex with Jack or Michael. Or you! I want sex…with my wife!!!!” Lem yells at the Illuminati.

“We had sex.” Lacey says hurt, to Lem.

“It was interrupted!” he says, grumpy.

“By who or what?” asks Lacey.

“By demons. And my pain. I don’t know if you noticed but you’re being made love to by Michael. Right now.” says Lem.

“Michael Rockefeller.” says Michael Kennedy in an enormous rage to the they-Illuminati.

“Why didn’t you just shoot me in the head?!? It would have been a Godsend!!!” Lem says to any Illuminati listening who refuse to understand why he’s angry. “I am so tired of listening to you all bitch and moan at Lacey about my supposed homosexuality!! …It’s so obvious she’s being made to write what she does. It’s not her ego, you FOOLS!!!!!”

“Could it be Jack?” an Englishman asks sincerely.

“Could what be what?!?” asks Lem.

“Are you being attacked by Jack?” asks an Englishman.

“If he’s here and we’re in Purgatory…you all can’t shut-up long enough to read anything. And then you blame Lacey for being confusing. And then try to take her spirit away from her body…because it’s an innocent spirit that also totally intimidates you all. You feel so insecure you keep shitting in your faces!!!” yells Lem. “And stop demonically attacking her writing by changing words and making it slow…and making my name Kem. It’s Lem. Not Ken plus Lem. I’m not your doll Wobbly! Stop imagining you own my dick!!!” Lem seethes. “And I’m not some aging parent in a retirement home being bullied. I died. Get a clue!” He shakes his head. “You didn’t actually know that part of me. You didn’t.” He closes his eyes. “I shouldn’t have taken you in for your own good. I-I was so confused. And…I tried. But I wasn’t fit to raise anyone in Jack’s family. That was a toxic expectation!” He collects himself. “I can’t…handle it!!!

“They can’t handle that a ghost is sleeping with a living woman.” says a Biden.

“Have you ever slept with your dead wife? In the Illuminati?” asks a reader of a Biden.

“It’s starting to get weird! It’s like a combination of the Old Testament and New Age/Sci Fi.” says a Biden.

“That’s not an answer!” says Summertime Sadness.

“You have or have not?” Lacey asks a Biden.

“I might have.” he admits.

“See…you know what I’m going to say next.” says Lacey.

“Let’s see…that it’s like if my wives were both dead.” he says. “For you!”

“Possibly, yes!” says Lacey.

“Yeah, that’s a mess!” he says.

Lacey nods. “And it’s also possibly a heads-up to you. On a personal note, so to speak.”

“And then in all that chaos she’s supposed to prove I’m not gay. Now.” says Lem. “Or no!? Not now?”

“Yeah, but Lem…the mistake was yours!” says a Biden.

“To a point!!” says Lem. “No, you’re right. That’s fair! Fair! But don’t forget my situation as experienced from my perspective.”

A bit later.

“Lem…I have no idea how to fix it. I’m sorry.” Lacey says.

Nutcracker, Ballet, Op. 71 by Tchaikovsky plays.

The problem is complex.

Lacey first had a crush on Joe Kennedy Sr. in her early teens. And then she thought that was too weird so she decided she should have a crush on Joe Kennedy Jr.. Joe Jr. was arguably better looking in her estimation back then… But Joe died fairly young. And JFK seemed more normal than his older brother to have a crush on. So she had a crush on JFK.


But then…she found Lem. And Lem seemed like otherworldly perfection. Possibly capable of being challenged by Joe Sr. but only possibly at most. In truth, Lem seemed too perfect to be a real human. The most perfect of all men she’d ever seen ever. And subconsciously it’s a position of supremacy that’s never been taken from him.

But…Lacey read Lem became gay. Yes. You read that right. This was in the late 1990’s. He never came out…was possibly asexual in some people’s estimation but…confused everyone about his sexual orientation, regardless. And…somehow the young man she unwittingly read spiritually as very heterosexual and definitely her type…had become gay???!? …So she suspended her intuition and gut sense and believed her supposed elders. It felt spiritually off to her to think he was gay…but it also deeply fascinated her and given the way he affected her it was actually riveting. …Of course, she tucked it safely away in the back of her mind with a great many other conundrums.

Years passed. And to make a long story short, her self-labeled obsession with the Kennedy’s wasn’t probably a real obsession. She assigned it that label in her teens. …Yet she’s since been labeled obsessive about a lot of other things. In truth, she’s never obsessive about anything. She’s always aware of details and cares seemingly more than most people do…but it’s never obsession. Being sensitive, and having an almost photographic memory…doesn’t made you obsessive. Also, she’s never been loved as anything other than a mother…and…yet her actual kids suffer as she’s tortured. She’s been in survival mode since she was born.

No, her mind was sent reeling when she discovered the existence of the Kennedy’s. Interest isn’t obsession. But this wasn’t mere interest. This was…awe.

Their existence drove her half insane. If she’s illegitimate it’s easily explained by the similarities between her actual father and that family. But of course, that’s still a mystery.

Because it hit her like a ton of bricks. And regardless, Joe Jr. fell in love. He seemingly genuinely empathized with Lacey.

And the emergence of the name Joe became a mystery. Of course, her first crush was on a little boy named Mike Burns. And she memorably got a little boy named Kirk in trouble in the fourth grade. Memorable because the teacher told Lacey off for telling on him. A little boy turned to Lacey and said, “I think he has problems at home with his father and the teacher knows that. Just lay off, Kirk!” It was…creepy. Lacey felt bizarrely misunderstood and personally attacked for telling on Kirk.

Of course she tried to have crushes on living Kennedy’s to be normal but that never really took off. She did try though.

Then…of course she secretly started getting the sense as she prayed to God for death at the age of 24 if she never fell in love and married…that she was being approached by ghosts.

She first noticed it one spring break when she read The Sun Also Rises. It was as if Hemingway and Harold Loeb got into a fight in her living-room. She empathized so much with Robert Cohn. Then Evelyn Waugh and her hit it off when she let herself drift off in her mind, as she read his novels. Was it real or imagined? She didn’t know.

And after she gave birth…coming very close to dying in the process with her child…she seemingly was approving F. Scott Fitzgerald. And his misery…which so resembled her own…comforted her to read about.

But that love that developed between Scott and Lacey ENRAGED Zelda and Joe Jr. to an extreme degree. So once Lacey had moved to Seattle Joe Jr. approached her in a similar way to how God approaches Lacey. To tell her that she was inferior to him…of course…but…that she was horribly in error to not be his concubine. Maybe. Maybe ugly-wife if she could impress him. Ugly-Wife? Yes. Because Kennedy’s cheat on principle. And…he wasn’t one to question traditional values as espoused by his beloved father and great leader, Joe Kennedy Sr.. So…all Kennedy wives, no matter how truly sexy or beautiful we’re always held up as the greatest measure of pure, unadulterated ugliness. Because Kennedy men pour bleach on their wives souls the minute the women spread their legs less than an inch. Leaving them blind.

But Lacey wasn’t ever official. It was all in her spirit. And she and Joe Jr. went too far before marriage. And…she both escaped and…maybe he let her escape too.

Then the Illuminati got involved. Should the Illuminati exist.

And the they couldn’t handle it. The they couldn’t handle anything they just read. And of course they’ve been doing their best with possible exceptions to kill or torture her ever since.

Because the Kennedy’s do matter to the they.

A ghost assisting the Illuminati to hurt Lacey gets tortured.

Moments later.

Lem is then tempted to kill Lacey to figure out why she slept with someone else. He resists on behalf of his kids and God.

…If Lacey had no living children and God permitted it…he’d kill her in the next sentence. Literally. But her born kids can’t die yet.

And no. No, the they as much as they listen secretly with surprising sincerity to conspiracy theories themselves…have no real clue Michael Rockefeller is. They don’t understand the Rockefeller’s. They don’t understand the Billings. They don’t understand Simon Johnson although they’ve possibly tried… Nor do they understand…a great many “deep” things on that level or in that way.

Explanation over.

“You know…the Kennedy’s are just a rich family that happens to be dysfunctional. You can just stop explaining now. I’m not all that interested in whatever happens between you and Michael or you and Lem.” says Summertime Sadness.

“Why do I agree?” asks Lord Thirsten Snotgrass.

“I don’t!!!” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Most of the perfume community does. But I’m an exception.” say a few people in their own way in Europe.

“Because we are curious.” says a German Angela.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Actually, I’m slightly curious too.” says a Biden. Possibly as a Catholic.

“Why?!?” Lacey wonders.

“She really doesn’t know.” says Michael.

“Great! We don’t care, Michael!” Summertime Sadness says to Michael condescendingly.

“Hey, cool-kid…Summertime Whale Dude…you do realize you’re talking to a ghost?!?” a witch asks him.

“Okay, but I didn’t conjure him!” he responds in his spirit.

“They’re controlling our brains?” asks Lord Thirsten Snotgrass.

“If they exist? Possibly. It’s complex. …You rely on societal norms to draw conclusions quickly in your everyday life. And they control the norms and the ways those norms are subliminally communicated to you.” explains Lacey.

“We’re like horses!” Lord Thirsten Snotgrass says to Lacey.

“Yes…one little tweak here and there, especially over time, affects your mind so much more than you’re allowed to consciously realize.” says Lacey. “It’s not just in advertisements.”

“It sounds like a very elegant system.” says an Irishman.

“Yes. It is!” says Lacey.

“Are you opposed to it or not?” asks another Irishman.

“Honestly?” asks Lacey.

“Honestly!” the first one responds.

“I don’t care.” says Lacey. “I don’t care unless they use it for evil. Then you have to use it to wring their necks before reading them their last rites.”

The Irishman thinks. “Because?!?”

“It’s inevitable.” says Lacey. “It’s not a big deal. You just have to be careful to get it right. And you should be doing that already.” She thinks. “You have to develop your sense of self. Have a real moral compass like Christianity.”

Being Irish he wants to laugh. “You’re right our Catholicism and sense of self has kept us fighting for our freedom.” He thinks. “Historically.”

“So there’s awful stuff that happens in the Illuminati but…a lot of it is just so-called boring details.” thinks Lord Thirsten Snotgrass. “Sounds about right.”

“Oh, I have a feeling they’ve become increasingly dysfunctional.” says the Irishman.

“Are you insinuating the Kennedy’s were dysfunctional back in Ireland and we just gig worse in the US?” asks Kick.

“Yes!” says Lem.