Harry Belafonte sings the Banana Boat Song.
Michael wins. Every time. But…two things make it totally unfair. First, the Illuminati struggles deeply to comprehend the very concepts of Lacey being more like Joan Crawford than Anne Hathaway and Lem not being gay.
“Okay…” says a Nancy who loves old film. She would also love to try to explain the personality differences between Anne Hathaway and Joan Crawford. …She imagines it’s a possible mistake that could be made given the circumstances but…to her…it shouldn’t be so confusing for them.
“What?!?” asks a Kayne teasingly playing dumb.
The other problem is that Lem has been hiding his true colors in another way.
Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters plays.
Lem is gobsmacked by Lacey. He’s tongue tied.
“Why couldn’t you find some woman like her?” asks Red Fay.
“Lacey is a bit better looking than most women, Red.” says Lem. “It doesn’t reflect in her photos that much.” He thinks. “And…she wants me.” He thinks more.
“A beautiful slut!” scoffs Mr. Blue.
“You know that’s bullshit. You’re scared. Why?” asks Lem. “Or are you hurt? Because she never wanted you…even accidentally thinking you were Michael…one ounce as much as she wants me.” says Lem. “No, it’s extraordinary how much she wants me.”
“Are you bragging Lem or what?” asks a Boomer, who’s secretly creeped out but won’t admit it.
“Why is it fine for Boomers to sexualize other generations without their consent on screen and elsewhere and then butcher those generation’s true sexuality in the process? It’s not. And now…as you’re having to hear real sexuality between two people in the Greatest Generation it freaks you out?” asks Lacey. “Why? Because it’s not normal to watch your parents have sex…as then violently call them uptight prudes when they yell at you not to?”
Gimme Shelter by The Rolling Stones plays.
“I’m stealing this song.” says Lacey. “Actually, I’m confiscating it.” She thinks.
“That female singer is channeling you!!!” yells a witch.
“Could she be even without reincarnation?” wonders Lacey. “I have always loved this song’s ability to speak to my soul. But who hasn’t?”
“But she ‘sounds’ like you?” asks another witch.
“Yes. Very much so. I love this song.” says Lacey.
“So…if reincarnation is in Christianity she could have been channeling you.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater. “Against your will.”
“Doesn’t that sound like Joe Jr. saying love is a kiss away?” asks Joe Jr..
“Moral of the story: Don’t channel spirits using witchcraft.” says Mary Tyler Moore. “Probably at all. And obviously not against their will.”
“Is this song actually about WWI?” asks Lord Thirsten Snotgrass. “Because if reincarnation is in Christianity…you’re trying to talk about WWI and they don’t seem to fully understand-“ he laughs. “-that.”
“Also it could be about Global Warming.” says a Gen Z man.
“And Katrina.” says a Kanye. “And…you grappling with the difference between murder and self-defense.”
“Right. Is it time to accept that you can’t always get what you want…or rouse the English Empire to shoot someone in the head for reasons of justice?” wonders Lacey.
Malcolm X gets her dilemma.
“I’m sure your father ordered lots of murders.”says Wobbly aggressively and sincerely and seriously to Lacey.
“Do you think he killed Jack and Bobby? …Or did he use your childhood vaccines to program you to inject Lem with heroin to get him addicted? Or both?!??” asks Lacey.
“Are you suggesting I violently injected Lem against his will?” asks Wobbly.
“That’s the word on the street, buddy.” says Lacey.
You Send Me by Sam Cooke plays.
“She sent me to torture.” says Joe Jr..
“Wobbly…why has that possibility always bothered you? Because you know…it’s possible you started the pandemic if you ruined that by being an asshole.” says Zelda.
“I didn’t.” he says in arrogant self-confidence.
“Really??” asks F. Scott Fitzgerald.
“If you’d allowed more for the possibility of her actually being on the keel about Joe…in 2016…we might not be here. Or did you? Which one was it? Does anyone but you know?” asks Zelda.
“You seemed nice about it. But maybe that was two-faced violence?” asks Lacey of Wobbly.
“Do they seem insecure and disdainful?” asks Rocky.
“Yes. But I have no idea, really.” says Lacey.
“Well…oh well. I’m fine as long as she eventually understands how much I love her.” says Lem.
Michael Rockefeller smiles.
“God will sort the rest out.” says Lem.
“He’s gay!!” yells Wobbly. “And someday…I’ll use the scientific methods known to God and man in our very day…to circumvent your weaknesses mentally…to explain to your conscience how, why, where and when we can come to understand the true fact of scientific research…that Mr. Kirk Lemoyne Billings…is, was and presumably always will…be gay. Queer. A faggot. A homosexual. A not straight man of the male gender.” He clears his throat. “I’m just the man to do it.” he says. “You may ask why. Why me? …Well, I’ll tell you why. Because I-Because… Because I knew Mr. Lem Billings as he was known to us as. That was Mr. Kirk Lemoyne Billings’s name. We called him Lem.” He smiles. “He was known as Lem to us. Going forward in this exercise let’s all call him Lem.”
Lacey nods in agreement to call him Lem.
Wobbly looks angry suddenly. He glares at Lacey.
“Okay. You can call him Lem, I guess.” he says to Lacey.
“That’s his name. Right?” asks Lacey.
Wobbly glares at her.
“Isn’t that the name you told us to call him?” asks Lacey.
“Well at least my dad doesn’t kill cops!” he explodes at Lacey.
“Oh my! No, he probably doesn’t!” says Lacey.
Wobbly looks like he feels vindicated.
“Say, what does that have to do with Lem?” asks Lacey.
Wobbly scoffs. He looks appalled. His mouth hangs open. “I’m just stating that you don’t want to challenge me! You’re thinking you’re better than me. I can tell. …But you sure as Hell are not!!” he says to Lacey.
“Whether I am or am not can’t I call him Lem too? That’s his sort of agreed upon name. Right?” asks Lacey.
He scowls. Shakes his head in utter disdain.
“What should I call him then?” asks Lacey.
“As his name?” ask Wobbly.
“Yes.” says Lacey.
He laughs. Scoffs.
“Lem. Call him Lem, I guess.” says Wobbly becoming a bit deflated.
“Well, was there another name you were thinking of?” asks Lacey.
“Mr. Lem Billings.” says Wobbly.
“Lem is too personal?” asks Lacey.
“Yes! Don’t you have any manners?” he says. “Why, you don’t call someone by a family nickname unless you’re close to them.” he says primly.
“I don’t suppose dating him seriously counts?” asks Lacey.
“You’re dating my uncle Joe. Not Lem.” he says.
“But then that’s another reason to call him Lem.” says Lacey.
He glares at her again.
“You’re not daring neither of them. My father says you’re a tramp!” says Wobbly to Lacey.
“No, I doubt that.” says Lacey. “Why do you hate me so much?” she asks him. “Do you have any idea?”
He thinks. “If you were my age you’d fall in love with me.” he says.
“I might not. But that’s okay!” says Lacey. “Why else?”
“You’re a stranger.” he says with disdain.
“Not to Joe, necessarily.” says Lacey.
“But I don’t know you!!” he says.
“Is that scary?” asks Lacey.
“Eww!!!!” he yells at her, lifting one shoulder and moving away in disgust.
“Alright. What gives you the idea that you control Lem and Joe?” asks Lacey.
He looks self-righteously at her. In utter contempt. “It’s common knowledge that I control the entire family!” he says.
“You’re like a gang?” asks Lacey. “And you’re their leader?”
He thinks. “We’re a clan.”
“Like in Ireland!” says Lacey.
He ceases scoffing. Admits a yes with a shrug of his facial muscles.
“Huh. So you’re the leader of your entire clan?” asks Lacey.
“Yes.” he says.
“So you control all narratives?” says Lacey.
He pouts. Looks a bit nervous. “Yes!”
“Right. So the truth doesn’t matter just what you say. Since you’re the fascist dictator of your entire Irish clan?” asks Lacey.
“I’m not a fascist!!!!” he says.
“But you can’t be honest. Because you have to control everything? And you use fake lies and real lies and fake truths and real truths and what? It’s unclear where any of it is going because you’re actually a shit leader?” says Lacey.
“My family is fine!” he says.
“No. There’s been a lot of untimely deaths under your leadership.” says Lacey. “Especially of innocent women. One wonderful little boy. And how is everyone else doing?”
He looks to be fuming.
“You know you’re confusing. Be by u One minute you are attacking Monsanto. And the next moment you’re a conspiracy theorist who’s best friends are on Tik Tok wearing MAGA hats. …Who is your base? …Wouldn’t it make sense to like that Lem was straight? You could play up the JFK was psychologically unwell and repressed-Actually…that combination plays perfectly with your current narrative. It’s both pro-LGBTQ+ and yet somehow Lem being secretly straight…is-It caters to your conflicting angles.” says Lacey.
“No it doesn’t!!!” he scoffs violently with continuing self-righteous disdain.
“Why?” asks Lacey.
“Because Lem was gay and you’re in love with me.” he says.
“No! I’m not in love with you.” says Lacey.
“Okay, I’ll bite.” he says. “He was gay?”
“As in it’s wrong to be gay and so he’s not anymore?” asks Lacey.
“Yeah! What would you say to that?!?” he says.
“That’s none of your business.” says Lacey with concern. “What would you feel about that?”
“It’s fine, I guess. But…” he says.
“But what?” ask Lacey.
“But…then there are no gay people in Heaven.” he says accusatorially to Lacey.
“That would be true, based on your premise.” says Lacey.
Joe Jr. manifests.
“This is dumb as Hell!” he says losing his temper. “You have no idea what’s allowed in Heaven.” he says to Wobbly.
“Who are you?” asks Wobbly coldly. “I don’t know you.”
Joe Jr. controls his temper. “Answer!”
“Why?!? Who are you?!?” asks Wobbly with self-righteous disdain.
“I’m your uncle!” says Joe Jr..
Wobbly sighs. “Maybe you were straight.” he says mysteriously.
“Who are you talking about?! Lem?” asks Joe Jr..
“Yeah.” he says. “Say, why did you kill my uncle?” he asks.
“That’s funny to you?!?” says Joe, appalled.
“I’m still waiting to find out where, when, why, and how we can scientifically verify that Mr. Kirk Lemoyne Billings was a homosexual faggot gay man.” says Lacey laughing. She can’t stop laughing. But she controls herself.
“He wasn’t, necessarily.” says Joe Jr. to Lacey.
“No! I think he has evidence. Right?” she says to Wobbly and Joe Jr..
“Yeah! I wanna see this presentation too!” says Louis Hill Jr..
Then Howard Hughs, Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway and Harold Loeb all decide to watch too. They’re joined by Bobby Sr., JFK, JFK Jr., Carolyn, Lauren her sister, Thomas Banks, Reta, George and Martha Washington, Benjamin Franklin, Ted Kennedy, Ron Craft, Mark Nesheim, Gaynelle, Toddy, the dead Estvolds, the dead Crafts, the dead Berge family of Norway…two Norwegian kings…HRH Queen Elizabeth I and HRH the Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother. James Joyce is also curious. Edith Wharton joins for fun.
Michael Rockefeller turns on an overhead projector.
Lem Billings pulls down a white screen behind Wobbly.
“I assume you have materials?” asks Michael of Wobbly.
Wobbly stares at him in blank confusion.
“Okay! Here!” says Michael handing overhead projector markers.
American Beauty, Film Score by Thomas Newman plays through the sound system.
All sit and wait patiently as the song plays.
“Please! Explain!” says Honey Fitz to Wobbly.
They all wait. Truly patiently.
“Come on! Go team!” yells Carolyn. She claps her hands in the air. She whistles like at a sporting event.
“No. …I don’t have real evidence.” says Wobbly shaking in Purgatory in front of his audience in a semi-quiet, awkward, school-age boy voice.
“Not really?” says Lacey.
He seethes, shoots daggers with his eyes at Lacey.
“What’s making you so angry?” Hemingway asks him.
“I’m not sure.” he says closing his eyes. He begins fidgeting with the markers nervously.
“Do you want to just go home?” asks Bobby.
JFK Jr. glares at Wobbly.
Wobbly is smug in response to the question at first. But then his face contorts into a pout and then huge tears. He falls apart in sobs in front of his audience. Lacey directs Bobby to go take him away.
Bobby picks up Wobbly and carries him away from the scene.
The audience chats among themselves.
“Does Wobbly think Lacey belongs with Michael or Louis? Or Harold?!?” asks The Queen Mother.
“Or is he just very confused?” asks Zelda.
“I think he’s confused. Whether homosexuality is allowed in Heaven or not he seem just plain confused to me.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.
Save Your Tears plays.
Lacey is startled.
She just got complimented by a near doppelgänger for Michael. Not just in looks but personality.
“It’s not him.” says Genevra King.
But it was so similar to how Michael is…that it truly has left her shocked. They’re not the same person, it’s true, but good golly…it’s overwhelming, nonetheless.
“You’re right. This whole thing is getting really screwed-up.” says Genevra’s daughter to Lacey.
She charges through Lacey’s living-room in a strapless dress. Through time.
Someone in some realm hatefully comments that maybe she’s Lem’s soulmate. She rolls her eyes in utter disgust.
“Nice that you could control your own uterus while you were alive!” says The Loudest Perfume Hater to her.
It’s nonsense. On every level. But it’s the kind of bizarre commentary Lacey has been inundated with by haters in the Illuminati and their demons for seven years. …And it’s not schizophrenia.
“It’s a statement on social class.” says Genevra’s daughter.
“Oh…whatever!” says Lacey in exasperation.
Genevra’s daughter empathetically nods in agreement.
“What…do I do?” Lacey asks Genevra.
“It’s madness!!” says Genevra.
“I didn’t mean to start Eurasia.” says Lacey.
“You didn’t.” says Genevra.
Moneygrabber by Fitz and The Tantrums plays.
Genevra giggles a deep giggle.
“It’s insane!” says Lacey.
“I know.” she says smiling.
Stunner by Milky Chance plays.
“You’re like my good twin.” says Genevra to Lacey.
“But I cause…the end of the world the minute I do one a few evil things with good intentions. In an otherwise almost monastic existence.” says Lacey.
“Relatively speaking.” says Genevra. She sighs. “You can’t fathom the structure of your life…” she says. “No! I’m not good with words.”
“Well…calm down about all these men!” says Genevra. “I know hurting anyone terrifies you.”
“It’s true. It’s one of my worst fears.” says Lacey. “It’s not sweetness. I just hate hurting people.”
“I know. You always volunteer to be hurt first. Every time. Always.” says Genevra. “You’re quite clever about it.”
They share a laugh.
“Do you know how to pick which man you want?” asks Genevra.
“No! It’s baffling. I’m focused entirely and only on what’s most Godly and not hurting anyone.” says Lacey.
“No, you fall in love…but that’s never the point to you.” she says. “And…so…since you’re focused on what’s Godly in your kind-hearted estimation. And I was focused on…kind of the opposite in a similar way. …And we’re mere women…we find ourselves with men like your ex and Michael. Maybe an Elliott type. And we both loved Scott. Louis doesn’t surprise me one bit.” She sighs. “You could be evil like I was but your spirit resists it. But…we truly accidentally let the truly toughest men win.” She thinks. “Let Lem win or lose. You have to let him. Because we are fallen creatures…Lacey. And we’ll always revert back to our actual selves. And in our happiest, saddest, most vulnerable moments they’ll fall apart if we help them against our true nature.” She thinks. “Just be kind. But realize that you can’t save them from their mistakes if they make them in true weakness.”
“I hate seeing people hurt.” says Lacey. “Would I find love more easily if I didn’t care as much?”
“No! Because we’re too much alike.” says Genevra.
“What are we doing?” asks Lacey.
“We win!” she says. Takes a sip of her drink. It’s a gala. “You unintentionally and me intentionally.” She laughs. “We instinctively do the same exact things for opposite reasons. With sadly similar results.”
Lacey laughs. Smiles.
“I’ve noticed that a bit too.” says Lacey. “But what are we after?”
“What do you want most of all?” she asks.
“To win…but not in a shallow, vain way. I want to win for the glory of God. To bring glory to Him.” says Lacey.
“Yes. And I want to win too. And I had similar results being more evil in a less evil world.” she says. “You worked against yourself and so did I. …And yet somehow we still win.”
“I don’t mean to win in the way I do.” says Lacey.
“No! But you do often make good decisions. And so did I. For opposite reasons. But in a similar mindset.” she says.
Move by Saint Motel plays.
“No. We see things as they are.” says Genevra. “And as such we drink alcohol, coffee and weep.” says Genevra. “Alone!”
“Well…does anyone ever truly fall in love with us?” asks Lacey.
She looks at her seriously. “If I didn’t reject Christ…I found out how to enjoy letting myself get close to men in a way where I might get hurt. Far more easily.” She sighs. “I think you’ll have to learn how to let them get hurt. And detach. Not unkindly. But…let them lose.” She thinks. “We’re both afraid of being destroyed, possibly. But…we win. More than we actually want.”
Lovers From The Past by Mareux plays.
“We’re not Jack Kennedy. We don’t get shot. We collect. And irritate narcissists. And garden for fun. And calculate. And love our children dearly.” says Genevra. “You’ve won. Even if you die tomorrow you’ve won. If the Illuminati attacked you they’re…toast.” She yawns. “The they anyway.”
“You’re not like the Kennedy’s. And if Lem needs someone who breaks and clings and takes advantage…and uses as neglects…and yet…is lost without him then that’s not you. You need him. Possibly more. But…you’re too good and tough and principled to even truly ask. You beg longingly. But…that’s out of love. Not neediness and desperation. You NEVER beg. We don’t. We can’t.” She shakes her head no. “It’s wrong in our minds. It’s cheap cheating.”
The song plays.
“Did you form a friendship between Russia and China?” asks the CIA of Lacey.
“They were already friends.” says Lacey.
“Did you encourage it?” asks the CIA.
“Yes! They’re perfect partners.” says Lacey.
“Huh! How?” asks the irritated CIA, stupidly.
“Honestly…it does seem safer to have Michael control the bombs. Truly!!” says Thirsten Snotgrass. “At least he has a flipping clue what’s going on.” he seethes.
Lacey coughs from a cold. “Hmm. Well…Russia is strong in some ways and China is strong in other ways. But they’re both pragmatic, survival-lead countries. But not in the way America sees the future. To our absolute destruction. No…it’s more in line with the French. Maybe the British. …Except the French and British are Western in their values…and China obviously is not. And Russia…is Russia. …But they all see HUGE sustainability issues. The future looks deadly or very worrisome to all of them in different ways. Or possibly the same ways…but their reactions all vary. …Yes! China may be playing the harshest long game on Climate Change.” She calms herself.
“But essentially they don’t have the same fascination with where I put my dick to feel good and not bad as the US currently does.” interrupts Lem Billings. “Don’t yell at Lacey!!! I can hear you fuckards!” he yells. “I WASN’T AT ALL ATTRACTED TO MEN!!!” he yells. “But I think you’re all…obsessed with that being the opposite.” says Lem to the They.
“Soo…you’re all willing to lose global leadership, lose millions of lives, ruin the global economy for the rest of your lives…just to keep claiming the moral high-ground in relation to Lacey. With your top issue being Lem Billings’s sexual orientation?” asks a group of upper-middle class Gen X Americans of the They in Illuminati.
“Because the gay men love Lem.” says a male Log Cabin Republican. “I start to think she’s channeling the energy of actual people but then Lem comes up and it’s so obvious he was gay and in love with JFK.”
“It’s not that completely obvious.” says Louis.
“Who even are you?!? I’ve never heard of Louis Hill Jr..” says the Log Cabin Republican.
“Never-mind! Don’t worry about it, chum!” says Louis.
“Oh my gosh! Right!” he says rolling his eyes. “Like…what made you feel so important? You’re like…a state representative?”
“I helped run the whole county.” says Louis.
“Okay?” he says.
“Was Lem Billings a bigger man in the US than Louis in your estimation?” asks an actress from East Enders of the Log Cabin Republican.
“No, I mean I could see an argument for that.” says Lacey sweetly.
“Shut-up!!” yells the Log Cabin Republican condescendingly.
“How am I inferior to Lem Billings?” asks Louis.
“You’re…not. But he was like a male Jackie Kennedy! Except so much hotter!” says the Log Cabin Republican. “He’s like me! I’d have a hot wife too in Heaven if it’s wrong. But…also…I’d always have a hot wife. Always.”
“Except it seems like Lem would have loved her while he was alive.” says Genevra.
There’s the sound of ducks and guns going off in the background.
“Not more than Jack. Not more than Jack!” says a Liberal gay man.
“Are you shooting live, wild birds?!?” asks the Log Cabin Republican of Genevra.
“Yes! It’s a hunting party!” says a man cheerfully who Lacey can’t identify.
“That’s gross!” says the Log Cabin Republican.
“Actually, how is voting Republican less gross than hunting wild birds safely and respectfully?” asks the Liberal gay man.
“It’s a party! Like…they’re taking pleasure in killing living beings!” says the Log Cabin Republicans.
“Are you trying to make a joke at your own expense?” asks the Liberal gay man.
“No! You’re an asshole! Aren’t you? …See…I’d make a joke about killing babies but we’ve fixed that shit!” says the Log Cabin Republican.
“Ha! Clown!” says the Liberal gay man.
“Then why aren’t you laughing?” asks the Log Cabin Republican.
Sodus by Cemeteries plays.
“Whatever! She’s homophobic!” says Mr. Blue about Lacey.
“Yeah! Let’s stop the nonsense! I hear enough of this all the time.” says a Biden.
“What nonsense? I like to eat duck sometimes!” says the Liberal gay man.
“No, but like…let’s hate Lacey. It’s my favorite pastime ever.” says Mr. Blue laughing supremely with a sultry smugness and self-deprecating grandiosity. He’s jogging.
“Why?” asks the Liberal gay man.
“Lem…Billings…is my lover.” says Lacey. “And he’s still him. And I’m a cis, straight woman.” It explodes. Perfectly.
“Low level bomb. But she’s right. It’s perfect.” says Michael.
“Let’s try killing her again!” says the They.
“Anyway. You’re both mad at me now?” asks Lacey of the two gay men.
“Yes!” says the Liberal gay man. He taps a pen on a table. “But why do I care?!?”
“It’s subliminal. I think.” says Lacey.
“It’s so simple!” says a Putin. “He creates a sense of solidarity between people who might not have much in common. He’s a great unifying mascot. And you’re an important group when unified.”
“That’s too clever.” says the Liberal gay man. He laughs. “Except…if I’m being honest…I do wonder.”
“The writers who profile him likely don’t even know they’re pawns.” says Lacey. “If.”
“Why??” asks the Liberal gay man.
“Who else? Who else is him in American history?” asks Lacey. “The depth of what’s written doesn’t even matter. Or the accuracy or intellectual integrity. People skim more than process and read today anyway. All it takes is a well formulated book cover or a photo of Rip Horton and Jack and you’ve got psychological gold.”
“What do they want from me?” asks the Log Cabin Republican.
“Your vote. Your mind.” says Lacey. “It’s about controlling the emotions of the group. They probably just want a well-tuned instrument. For power. For money. Etc..”
“You’re right. The book cover was better than the book. So was the title.” says Log Cabin Republican.
“It claims absolute truth based on our deepest hopes.” says Lacey.
“Are you mad you were lied to?!?” asks the Log Cabin Republican of Lacey.
Lacey breathes a deep sincere sigh. September plays.
“Yes. Not-I’m not sure how much.” she says. “I saw that book cover somewhere. And…if I’m in love with Lem…it’s shocking to me still.”
“More shocking than Democrats Satanically manifesting the train crash to screw-over Republicans?” asks Mr. Blue. “Republicans equal bad for the environment!”
“No! That’s ordinary.” says Lacey. “It’s worse than Nazi propaganda. If Lem is straight.”
“Are Democrats selling kid’s lives and resorting to heinous acts of sexual assault in general out of desperation due to poverty?” asks Summertime Sadness.
“They might be.” says Lacey.
“They have no oil. Not really. They’re not willing to give you Lem.” says the Log Cabin Republican symbolically to Lacey. “Or coal. Or lumber. Or maybe much else.”
“What do they have?” asks Lacey.
“Us!” says the gay Liberal. “Green energy? The Kennedy’s living are confusing…so not them anymore to be honest. But…JFK?? FDR?? Slavery? Hostages? …Umm. Hollywood?” he says. “Well…kinda Hollywood?”
“Education! And the steel industry!” says a Liberal from Kentucky. He laughs.
“We really are their base.” says the gay man who’s Republican.
“Black people are leaving over Flint.” says Lacey.
“Why do you think black people are more mad about Flint than Katrina?” asks the gay Republican.
“Because of Obama.” says Lacey.
Some group tries to kill Lacey. Making her swallow her tongue? Or no! Trick her brain into malfunctioning and stopping her brain from being able to breath?
Pictures Of Me by Elliott Smith plays.
“SUCK MY COCK OR I’LL KILL YOU!!” Wobbly yells at Lacey in a rage. And as always she refuses his offer. And no, she’s never come on to him.
“Oh!!! It’s payback time for the short Kennedy.” says Lacey to Wobbly. “I’d bet you’re feeling violent from my attack on your narcissistic delusions earlier?”
“Yeah!!” he says violently.
Tries to psychically rape her.
She laughs. “You’re actually short. The Kennedy’s do have real short genes.”
He mocks her.
“Did you come for Lem’s penis?” asks Lacey. “You know…you could dig him up and cut off whatever’s left and put it in your pocket like a lucky rabbit’s foot!”
“You could! I’m serious. I dare you!!!” says Lacey.
“Oh come on! You could.” says Lacey. “Why not?”
“Too time consuming, I suppose.” she says.
“Why would it be good luck to me?” he asks.
“Because it’s incredibly important to you? Isn’t it? Don’t you worry where his penis is spiritually constantly? …I bet if you cut it off you’d have more Satanic control over it. Especially if you kept it on you at all times in your pocket!” says Lacey.
“But that’s counterproductive to you!” says a witch.
“No! I’m throwing him to Hell if he’s going to kill me if he chooses it. I’m not his mother or aunt if he keeps trying to rape and kill me. Or am I strangling his brain to save him from Hell?” she asks. “Either way, I’m tired of his shit.”
“How many times have you interrupted us having sex?” asks Lem of Wobbly.
“I’m en league with them.” he pouts.
“How many times have you stalked us?” asks Lacey of Wobbly.
She studies him.
“You’re a sociopath now. Aren’t you?” Lacey asks Wobbly. “Like…a clinical sociopath.”
“You’re going to be lobotomized. Or they’ll be some surgical procedure when you die.” says J. P. Kennedy Sr. to Wobbly. He’s on break from Rose for a moment.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck being basically insane.” says Lacey to Wobbly. “If that’s true.”
“Lem’s penis is probably gone.” says Wobbly.
“Does that decompose quickly?” asks Lacey.
He nods a yes.
“Hmm. I thought it might my work like that.” says Lacey.
“Well, that’s how it works!” he says.
“Good to know. Although I’ll double-check.” says Lacey.
“Why don’t you just believe me?” he asks.
“I’m stuck on thinking there’s something left of our cartilage.” says Lacey.
“For decades?!?” he asks.
“Yes!!” says Lacey.
He thinks. “Because hair lasts.” he says.
“To be honest, that’s likely part of it.” says Lacey. “How long does hair last though?”
“It depends.” he says. “But things eat hair.”
“As opposed to bones?” asks Lacey.
He shrugs condescendingly.
“Well alright. Enough of that!” says Lacey.
A moment later: “Goodnight!” she says to Wobbly.
He smiles and nods a goodnight.
Lem sits next to Lacey.
“Let’s stop this. Time for bed!” says Lem to Lacey.