Bleeders

Empty Camps by Cemeteries plays.

Lacey is a proud bleeder. Every month since age 11 she’s bled. Amid now she struggles with anemia.

There will be blood.

Blood.

If the Illuminati exists it cherishes blood. …RED…blood. Of course blood is blue until it is touched by oxygen. The air we breath colors it red…not blue.

And that…that blood is blue until it’s colored red is why Satanism is its own demise. It’s utterly dependent on mortal toil.

The Catholic Peter Kreeft suggests that trans people might genuinely exist. Might. …Might become he doesn’t know. He’s one man who as a Christian theologian sees the possibility.

…The scary thing is…as a human we don’t know what another human is fully experiencing and if they aren’t crossing certain lines of rationality and morality and common-sense it’s difficult to make certain rulings on their life premises when they’re an adult. Homosexual and transgendered people are confusing for a a straight, cis person to fully understand. And, obviously, there are many varying experiences within the homosexual and trans community itself. The problem are people who can’t handle this insecure, baffling reality.

People want things to be certain. Because it’s certainty that helps us create democracy and stability. Certainty allows us freedom of movement. It’s intellectual oxygen. Intellectual water. The sun rises…everyday. It’s fundamental to growth.

And as an increasingly shallow, dissociated, unromantic, asexual, and often more secular world we struggle with the increasing uncertainty more than they might have in the past? Because we want Heaven now. We want perfection because failing ourselves as humans means the slowing of society towards something hopeful. Tomorrowland may be impossible or far away.

…And that’s why I choose to embrace my derogatory title of “bleeder.” To me it is a compliment and an accidental acknowledgment of my hidden life experience. Whether the acknowledgment is given because of covert misogyny due to the mental illness of a man who wants to be me…or because of narcissistic women who are bitter, jealous and want to be me…on a certain level I don’t care.

I am a woman. I doubt I’ve ever been anything else ever. In all of eternity. I’d guarantee it…but I’m not God. As much as I can guarantee it…I do. I promise as much as is Godly, that I’ve never and will never be anything but a woman. A woman bleeds.

Every month a woman bleeds red. My female gender is real. It’s science. It’s fact. …It’s what God created. Gender is not a social construct any more than how wildflowers grow in the wild without human intervention. It’s organic.

La Valse d’ Amélie by Yann Tiersen plays.

A trans woman cries. “I feel like I’m a woman and that Earth made a mistake.”

“Well…will anyone but God ever truly know?” asks Lacey. “You might feel almost certain or fairly certain…or even certain…but….God knows what’s really happening.”

“And your view is that your job is to moderate things clearly wrong. Like pedophilia is clearly wrong. …But you don’t know how to make fair judgments on trans issues when it comes to deciding for someone else what their identity is?” asks the trans woman.

“Close.” says Lacey.

“So…basically you just think people need to slow down.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Yes and no.” says Lacey.

“I think the predominant voices in the LGBTQ+ community are narcissistic.” says a trans man. “And trans women who get surgery to look like Lacey are mad when they find out they can’t look exactly like her any more than the hateful cis women who have been envious of her her whole life.” He smiles. “They couldn’t steal Lem or Michael either.” He laughs. “Because they will always be just themselves. …No one else.”

“Dylan does resemble a Real Housewife and slightly Lacey’s beauty….but she’s not those women. She or he is just Dylan Mulvaney. Not Lacey Banks. Not Heather Dubrow. …And if being trans is a medical issue recognized by God…Dylan needs to be careful not let her possible narcissism infect her activism.” says J. D. Rockefeller. “She, if Dylan is a she, can’t use her medical condition to alter her social class or background in life in general.”

“But then I’ll never be as good as them!” says a Dylan.

“You aren’t them!” says J. D. Rockefeller.

A Dylan laughs. “Do they enjoy being ‘better than me’ in this fallen world?”

“No! I know Lacey doesn’t. …And I can’t speak for Ms. Dubrow, but I’d bet she’s not thrilled about it either.” says J. D. Rockefeller. “You know what they do enjoy is knowing who they are for certain.”

“Yeah!” says a Dylan.

“That’s what’s unfair about your life, Dylan.” says J. D. Rockefeller.

Social Cues by Cage The Elephant plays.

“It is difficult not to be catty.” says a Dylan.

“Is it?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah…if I am this…pretty…elegant…feminine woman…it is difficult not to get mad at women who are even prettier or more elite looking.” says a Dylan. “Or who are more elite humans in general, at their core.”

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“What if I am a narcissist?!” a Dylan asks.

“So you feel stuck being cutthroat and conniving and heartless?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah.” a Dylan says.

“As a human, I can relate!” says Katharine Hepburn.

“Why do you feel the need to attack upwards?” ask Lacey.

Day One by Hans Zimmer plays.

“I can answer that!” says Katharine Hepburn. Katharine slept with Joe Kennedy Jr. (in Purgatory) seemingly and then they tried to hide it from Lacey. A few years ago.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“I don’t hate you. …I just can’t stand that he chose you for the arbitrary reason of your superiority.” says Katharine.

“But he obviously loves you more if he chooses you and…I’m objectively superior.” says Lacey. “So what does that make you? A horrible person?”

They all think.

“I mean…at what point do we supersede our genetics and fallen state? At what point are we truly able to claim our choices as purely our own? …And if there is a point like that…why did you choose to not just tell me that you and Joe were together?!” asks Lacey of Katharine Hepburn.

Memoryhouse by Max Richter plays.

“I wanted to hurt you.” Katharine seemingly admits to Lacey.

“Why?” asks a Dylan.

“I would have stolen him from you too, if you’re a woman.” says Katharine to a Dylan.

“Why?” asks Ginger Rogers.

“Because we’re too nice, Lacey!” says a Dylan, allowing Dylan to grieve operating under the premise that Dylan could have been hurt too. By Joe, even.

Relax by Vacations plays.

“You aren’t necessarily that good of a person.” Lacey says to a Dylan.

“But I should be. And if I was…we’re too nice!” Dylan says.

“And I’m not!” says a Katharine.

“We don’t truly know we’re pretty. …I have a feeling if I was born this way…I’d know I was…pretty…but…I’d not feel fully comfortable calling myself pretty.” says a Dylan.

“Why?!” asks a blond Gen X woman.

“Because they’re not blonds!” yells a trans they/her.

“Well…I had dark blond hair.” says Lacey.

“Yes! But…you have true brown eyes.” says the trans they/her to Lacey.

“And your hair is darker now.” says a Dylan to Lacey. “You’re in our type.”

“Should you be a woman in the eyes of God, you’re right. We are a type in a way.” says Lacey.

“Okay! But if we are a type…why does everyone hate us?!?” asks a Heather.

They think.

“I like us, as far as types go.” says Lacey.

“Aww! You all should write a collective doctoral thesis on the topic!” says a smirking cis female hater.

Lacey and Heather balk at the attack. A Dylan laughs.

“Dylan…what if you get stuck being one of them for forever?” asks a man.

“What if I always was?!?” Dylan asks.

“Yeah right! You’d have been viciously bullied. Both Heather and Lacey were.” says JFK. “Right?”

“Yeah! And not for being trans or gay!” says a conservative liberal man. He thinks. “See…that’s why I have a hard time, among other reasons, calling you truly female. Because you never had those formative experiences.”

Jazz Suite No. 2 by Shostakovich plays.

“And without those experiences you can’t fully know yourself even if you are a woman.” says a cis, living Illuminati woman.

“Who would I be?” a Dylan asks Lacey. “Speaking from an author’s perspective.”

“You’d likely have a very broken side.” says Lacey.

“What kind of broken?” asks a Dylan.

“Like…I slept with that hot guy in the 9th grade because my mom let me wear Clinique…and he thought I was cool. And…he loved me. But not me. Just…my pretty, happy façade.” Lacey thinks. “At least as a Millennial woman.” Lacey thinks more. “So…you’d have decided to become a doctor. Or…some safe professional person where your innate intelligence would be recognized…and you’d now be struggling to find a decent husband. Or you’d have a husband but you’d be mean and bitter. Or…you’d be married to money and you’d be hated for it.”

“So I’m the ‘I want a husband type?’” Dylan asks.

“If you’re a woman in the eyes of God, that’s my guess. I’m not certain. But that’s my guess.” says Lacey.

A Dylan smiles. “Why?”

“Because you secretly don’t see the point in lying about it. It’s nonsense to you. All that liberation stuff…is nonsense when it comes to you and your feminine heart.“ says Lacey.

“Of course, you might be surprised how much better you’ll feel in Heaven if you’re still just a man at heart.” says an 18th Century Irish aristocrat.

“Not having to play this fake person for myself if that’s what I’m objectively doing?” says Dylan.

“Yes! And that’s a terrible way to function. That uncertainty.” says Lacey with genuine, albeit reserved, empathy.

“Do I ever find love?” a Dylan asks.

“Yes! You might have. Or you might?” says Lacey.

“But I’d be bitter or rich? Or both?” a Dylan asks.

“From my observations, that’s the norm for ladies like us nowadays.” says Lacey.

“Why?!” a Dylan asks.

“Because you’re smart and pretty and nice and tough…and very feminine and ladylike.” says Lacey.

“So we gravitate towards wealth and power…or we get caught by something that assails our souls?” asks a Dylan.

“Basically.” says Lacey. “At least nowadays.”

“Would I have kids?” a Dylan asks.

“Yes! Four or five at most. One possibly.” says Lacey.

“And I’d break more easily?” asks a Dylan.

“Yes and no. You’d probably have clinical depression.” says Lacey.

“You don’t think I’d be as joyful?” asks a Dylan.

“Oh wow!!” says a Heather.

“No!! Not at all.” says Lacey.

“So the joy and freedom to express that joy…you see in me…is more like what you two felt as children?” asks a Dylan.

“Very much so!” says Lacey.

“So…is it cringeworthy or sad or what?” asks a Dylan.

“It’s…triggering.” says Lacey. “It’s…fun in a way because you’re expressing a vibe that they’ve silenced. Whether that’s truly you or not you are expressing a vibe I relate to. …But I don’t feel ANY freedom or safety to be way anymore.”

A Dylan smiles. “The more womanly my body became the more they’d silence me too.”

“Or try to turn you evil.” says Lacey.

“Evil or suicidal.” says a Heather.

“You might be evil right now. You know I don’t trust you.” says Lacey to a Dylan. “But you’d be the type of woman, should you be one in the eyes of God…who would ache inside over the ugliness of that lack of ability to trust.”

“Because you’d know it was wise…but you’d hate it.” says a Heather.

“So if I embody that joy you felt as a child…seeing it reminds you of how they stole it from you or forced you to stop letting them ever see it?” asks a Dylan.

“Yes! And watching them bully you feels…so familiar.” says Lacey.

“So what does my husband look like?!” asks a Dylan, smiling.

“He’s either Jewish or tall and handsome and sensitive!” says a man.

“Like a tall Hispanic actor?” asks a Dylan.

“From Spain!” says Lacey. “If you were born a bleeder.”

“Not darker?” a Dylan asks Lacey.

“There aren’t many of those men. Sadly.” says Lacey. “Like your type but dark and Hispanic.”

“Not in the U.S.?” asks a Dylan.

“That’s my observation.” says Lacey.

“So…I’d have been a psychology or theatre major at UPenn. And…have some cerebral…cis…sweetheart-of-a-man husband?” asks a Dylan. “If I was a bleeder.”

“Or Northwestern!” says a Meghan who feels she can at least slightly relate to this type of bleeder.

A Dylan laughs. “Why don’t we go to Harvard?”

“If you were born a bleeder-breeder? …Because Harvard is too sad. And Yale is too obvious.” says Lacey. “Most Ivy League schools feel wrong somehow.”

A Dylan smiles.

“Why?” asks a Dylan.

“It’s possibly too painful to easily talk about.” says Lacey.

A Dylan thinks.

Sodus by Cemeteries plays.

“Why do they hate our joy?” she asks if she’s a she.

“Maybe it points to God.” says Lacey. “And His victory over evil.”

“So even if you’re insane…you embody that feminine experience. And if you are insane you’re insane.” Katharine Hepburn says to a Dylan. “You’re a sick imitation of real women. …But if you are a woman in the eyes of God…that joy, should it be real…and not a narcissistic imitation of that kind of woman even…is…threatening to the type of evil that prevails today. Because it’s unconquerable. It’s only conquerable by a loving husband, if at all. And then for the purposes of belonging to Him.” says Katharine. “You’re all unique women too. You might share commonalities. But you’re all unique.”

“What do you think my husband would really look like?” asks a Dylan.

“Tall, dark blond, cloudy blue eyes. Muscular. Nordic or Germanic or…Irish?” says Lacey. “Very serious. Very high-achieving possibly.”

A Dylan thinks. “Quiet?”

“Yes! But you’d make him smile.” says Lacey.

“And then he’d be madly in love with me. And I’d want to distance myself. But…I wouldn’t be able to resist him?” ask a Dylan.

“Yes!” says a Lacey.

“Or we’d have an equal relationship…but he’d be annoying to me? Or what?” asks a Dylan.

“No! You’d feel misunderstood, because somehow you would be.” says Lacey.

“It sounds like a shitty life.” says a Dylan laughing.

“Well…you’d enjoy being yourself if you are a woman in God’s eyes. We like ourselves because we do mean well, I think. But…we get bullied. And it’s often difficult to figure out why.” says Lacey. “Because it often feels like we’re being bullied for all the wrong reasons.”

Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve plays.

“What did you think of my Bud Light campaign?” a Dylan asks Lacey.

“Do you drink Bud Light?” asks Lacey.

A Dylan smiles.

“I can’t see you drinking Bud Light with a lot of natural enjoyment.” says Lacey.

A Dylan laughs.

“You need to take better care of your teeth.” she (if she’s a she) says to Lacey.

“Yeah, you’re right.” says Lacey.

“Why don’t you?” she (if she’s a she) asks fairly bluntly.

“I love coffee and tea. And I’m depressed.” says Lacey.

“We are perfectionists.” says a Dylan. “Possibly.”

“What do you drink?” asks Lacey.

A Dylan smiles mischievously.

“I would have been so pretty!” says a Dylan sadly.

“Well…if you were born a bleeder you might not see that as clearly.” says Lacey.

“Because if I was born a bleeder I’d have seen myself looking awkward as a teenage girl.” say a Dylan.

“Yes! Pimples, braces, skinny…but dainty.” says Lacey.

“And bleeding every month.” a Dylan says with a disdainful cringe.

“And a lot of straight men like that blood.” says Lacey. “So force yourself…not just for them…but for yourself. To accept the reality of that part of your body and mortal soul.”

A Dylan does. “It’s humiliating!”

“Embrace it!” says Lacey. “It’s all you have until you die.”

“Do you feel weak?!” she (if she’s a she in the eyes of God) asks.

“Yes!! Very!” says Lacey.

“And there’s no way out. But it’s beautiful…in a way. Isn’t it?” asks a Dylan.

“That’s just who you are. It’s your blood!” says Lacey.

“It’s my womb?” asks a Dylan.

“But that womb will belong to your beloved children someday too. And you intuitively know that. So…yes. It’s your body. Your blood. But…you feel the profound responsibility of your womb.” says Lacey.

A Dylan smiles. “So…I feel a sort of ennobling sense of honor every month too?”

“YES!” says Lacey.

“Like, it’s one of the reasons I was born.” says a Dylan.

“Yes!” says Lacey. “And obviously that’s not going to happen. But…I do believe we’re eternal beings. And maybe you’ll just save your children for Heaven, should you be this woman.”

“So…I might not drink Bud Light.” a Dylan admits, awkwardly.

“I bet you do drink it on occasion?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah!” a Dylan admits.

“You might have considered law school too.” says Lacey.

A Dylan nods.

“Let me guess…you drink gourmet beer? Red wine? And vodka? Gin? Or whisky?” asks Lacey.

A Dylan nods.

“I like whisky.” says a Dylan.

“Did you drink like…1920’s cocktails?” asks Lacey.

“Yes! Would I have gone through an Audrey Hepburn stage?” asks a Dylan.

“Yes!” says Lacey. “And you’d be embarrassed about it.”

“I’m a sap at heart.” says a Dylan.

“If you’re actually the woman you currently present as…then yes. Very much so. Desperately so.” says Lacey.

“But I’m too smart to fit in.” she (should she be a she) says.

“And possibly too honest.” says Lacey.

“We’re very elegant.” says a Dylan.

“Genuinely so, if you’re truly like us.” says Lacey.

Transgender by Crystal Castles plays.

“We fascinate ourselves.” says a Dylan.

“There’s nothing wrong with real love for yourself based on God’s love. …But also, we aren’t often discussed honestly in society.” says Lacey.

Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka plays.

“This really isn’t our song?! Is it…?” muses a Dylan to Lacey.

“No! It’s so romantic. But no. It’s too masculine.” says Lacey.

“That’s…such a difficult role for me to play. The feminine one.” says a Dylan.

“Because you’re trans.” says Lacey. “If you’re a woman you’re trans.”

“Yup!” says a Dylan.

“Well…at least you’re not dull.” says a German man.

“Why does that feel like an insult?!” asks a Dylan playing with her utensils at an outdoor cafe.

“Do you want to be dull?!” asks a trans woman who wonders of part of the problem with the LGBTQ+ community is that they’re all so unique that they don’t have the ability to understand each other easily at times.

A Dylan looks up her coyly. Jokingly. “I think I do slightly.” she (should she be a she) laughs a pretty, toothy laugh.

“So you’re this posh princess type?” asks the trans woman who’s more earthy and liberal looking.

“Like a sorority sister?” asks a Dylan.

“I don’t generally women like you!” she (should she be a woman) says to Dylan.

Scene of Dylan wearing a satin strapless dress in 2017, updo, pearl studs and perfect makeup at her friend’s wedding. She’s lip-synching to No Diggity by Blackstreet. Someone is filming her and posts it to Facebook.

“You’re a posh, possibly Republican theater ham?” asks the trans woman.

“Maybe.” says a Dylan.

“But you’re still trans.” says the trans woman.

“Not in God’s eyes.” says a Catholic. “If that’s who our silly, lighthearted Dylan is…then in God’s eyes she still is that lovely woman. She just will have to wait to fully experience her existence in Heaven. And it’s like…a death. A gruesome one. But…we should pray that if she is that woman that God will give her grace to endure her painful life. …And we don’t necessarily know. And that’s unfortunate too.”

More later.

“So people subconsciously hated Dylan for the Bud Light campaign because of her appearance as an elite woman?” asks a Fox News Anchor. “A woman who would drink Bud Light to get drunk at a sorority party? And that sort of ironic consumption of Bud Light actually triggered them because they felt mocked for reasons of social class.”

“Her whole persona is pretty, sheltered, rich white girl.” says a gay liberal guy.

“But she’s trans.” says a trans woman.

“Yeah! But if you want us to take you seriously as the other gender…you might find out things you don’t like.” says a Republican guy. “If Dylan is a straight girly-girl…she’s more likely to be conservative nowadays than a liberal. Especially with her seeming tastes and personality. And then liberals have to realize that Republican women aren’t really evil idiots. Or what? That lower-class men don’t like a random sorority girl’s image on their beer?!” he says.

“She has a similar vibe to Lana Del Rey too.” says a liberal frat guy. “I…kinda doubt…dudes who genuinely drink Bud wanna see Lana Del Rey on their beer cans either.”

“Why? Because why?!?” asks the trans woman.

“I think secretly it just feels emasculating.” says Lacey.

“So they say they feel tricked into being gay. But you think that’s cover for something else?” asks a trans woman of Lacey.

“Maybe! …I mean…I’ve found trans men handsome when they pass as men. And…it’s not their femininity I find handsome but their seemingly real manliness. …When I find out they’re trans I sometimes wonder if I still find them attractive or not, but I never feel tricked. I just feel…confused about my feelings about them…and I feel relieved that their happiness doesn’t depend on my opinion of them. And then I have to grapple with what I’d do if it did.” says Lacey. “It’s not that complicated. …These men find Dylan pretty. And so…then you have to ask yourself why they’re so overwhelmed by that. Do they feel angry that Dylan isn’t going to be as easily objectified? Do they feel mad she’s not coming across as deeply wounded like most straight women are in society today? …Because their anger comes across as insecurity more than anything else.”

“Or is she totally missing the social cues most women get over time?” asks a liberal man.

“Yeah, but how many of those social cues are repressive and toxic and of our time not…just ‘the way it is?’” asks Lacey.

“So you find trans men who pass attractive?” asks a trans man.

“Until they out themselves I have on occasion. Yes. Not every trans man. But a few.” says Lacey. “Not all trans men look alike.”

A Dylan rolls eyes and nods in agreement with Lacey.

“But…why do you doubt your initial response after you find out they’re trans?” asks a trans woman.

“I just haven’t decided how I feel about it yet. I know my response towards other people. But on that personal of a level it’s important to be honest with myself about my every thought and feeling. I wouldn’t want to lead some…potentially already vulnerable guy on. It wouldn’t be fair to him.” says Lacey. “If that means I miss out than that’s my problem.”

“Yeah…and for better or worse it’s not like she’s had any hot guys who just happen to be trans hit on her.” says a Dylan.

“True! But I still analyze it sometimes just to be sure I have some sense of that reality.” says Lacey.

“Yeah…I don’t really like you either.” says the trans woman to Lacey. She laughs.

“Similarly to Dylan?” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” the trans woman says.

“Why don’t you like us?” Lacey asks.

“You both have such high opinions of yourselves.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Are you sure you’re not just being narcissistic in thinking that?” asks Lacey.

“And possibly misogynistic?!” asks a Dylan.

“I think The Loudest Perfume Hater and I just feel like you’re both…just finance bro wives. Except Dylan was born with a male body so…it’s easier to be nice to her.” says the trans woman.

“That’s the role current society has allowed us!” says a Heather.

“So…it’s really not like trans people are going to fit into the liberal narrative if they’re actually a medical issue that’s real?” wonders a Hispanic Gen Z guy.

“Probably not!” says his Gen X Republican dad.

“I kinda think if I met a girl who was trans and looked like Dylan I would think about dating her if she crushed on me.” says this male Hispanic teenage guy. “But then she’d have to be a real she. …No they. No…turning back into a guy.” He thinks. “I’d have to make sure she was sane and honest.”

“You’re straight?!” asks a Dylan.

“Yeah!” he says.

“Well…that’s cool. I hope you find a girl you can love someday.” says Dylan with a kind smile.

“So if you’re actually a woman…we might secretly hate you for reasons of social class anxiety?” wonders a Fox News Anchor of Dylan.

“I…empathize with them. I am one of them… But they are not necessarily my natural people if I’m actually a woman. …And…no…it’s not an easy topic to address in the LGBTQ+ community.” says a Dylan. “Because we’ve been so united. But…what’s really going to happen when we get the chance to be ourselves? If we are being ourselves.” says a Dylan.

“So…if they fall genuinely in love…and we’re real…there could be class issues within the community and…then what?” asks a vocally anti-Trump trans woman.

“Then if Dylan had been born a bleeder in the South…she’d possibly be a rich housewife.” says a man who hates that Dylan is on his beer. “And she’d vote Trump.”

“So are you glad we have helped her or not?!” asks the trans woman in indignation.

“If she’s truly a woman…you’ve capitalized off her medical disorder and what’s more…you’ve forced the whole thing on me in a fascist way. …I kind of resent that!” the Republican Bud drinker says.

And that’s when The Loudest Perfume Hater realized she could hate Lacey and possibly Dylan Mulvaney because they’re possibly both (not just Lacey) pretty, white, elegant, skinny straight women.

“I’m not a racist!” says a Dylan very seriously, very quickly. “I might be a successful social climber.” Dylan laughs.

“Well…you are an artist.” says Lacey. “Right?”

“Yes!” says a Dylan.

“Artists sometimes live outside the barriers of social class when they’re being pure of heart.” says Lacey

More later.

Lacey looks at a post from Matt Walsh insulting Dylan Mulvandy.

“Okay…I think Matt Walsh is just…feeling rejected.” says Lacey. “I think he knows that if Dylan was born a bleeder she’d be WAY out of his league.” Lacey thinks. “I’m not saying Dylan is innocent and trustworthy or even necessarily absolutely, unequivocally a woman. But if Dylan is a woman…she’d be TOTALLY untouchable for a man like Matt Walsh to ever feel truly safe marrying.”

“What would Matt Walsh do to compensate?” asks a blond Real Housewife.

“Emotionally and mentally abuse Dylan.” Lacey.

“Do I actually seem…gay…for being so crass about Dylan?” a Matt wonders to himself. He laughs.

“Yes. He does almost seem insecure in his masculinity or not entirely straight.” says Lacey. “He could have criticized Dylan in a far less hostile way. But the way he did it was…creepy.”

“Do I seem aroused?!?” he wonders.

“Actually…yes. You seem indignant about it, but possibly yes.” says Lacey. “Why can’t Dylan just be presenting as a pretty woman?”

“So…I’m being disingenuous?” he wonders to himself.

“You might be. And the people who you need to respect you most will see through you.” says Lacey.

“I should have said something like, ‘If this was a real woman I’d find her attractive. Whoever did this to this man was a very gifted plastic surgeon. But, this is a man. No amount Jo Jo Jo of surgery can make this man a woman.“ thinks Matt.

“But what if she’s a she?” asks Lacey.

“There’s no way God designed it that way.” says a Matt.

“Would you stake your reputation on that being absolutely certain?” asks Lacey.

“No!” he says.

“Then shouldn’t you be more…thoughtful?” asks Lacey. “More…reticent in respect to both regards?”

“If I don’t argue for the opposition…it’ll be silenced by the violent forces on the left.” he says to this voice in his head he’s debating with.

“But if Dylan is a woman in the eyes of God…you insulted a woman’s beauty who has a horrific medical condition. That’s not just disingenuous. It’s…cruel.” says Lacey.

“A woman who can’t be seen or cared about by the average person in a real way as she deserves.” he thinks.

“Exactly.” says Lacey.

“I wonder if I was being too harsh.” he thinks.

“More petty and cruel than harsh.” says Lacey.

“She seems like she’d be a catty woman?” he wonders. “Kind of stuck on herself?”

“But…sometimes women like that are actually very unaware of their own beauty.“ says Lacey.

“Yeah! Whatever!” he scoffs.

He doesn’t want to think about it anymore except to say to the voice in his head, “Go to Hell in Jesus’s name!”

“If there are demons attacking you then I hope they do. I’m a human. And I refuse to as I worship Jesus.” says Lacey.

“Are you a spirit of conservatism?” he asks.

“No! I’m a woman.” says Lacey.

He looks shocked. “Are you a ghost?!??” he asks.

“I might be slightly.” says Lacey.

“Don’t talk to witches!” he says.

“Alright! They sometimes to talk with me. But…I mostly worry they’re going to go to Hell. They can be very nice.” says Lacey.

“Pray to God!” he says.

“I will and do!” says Lacey. “Thank you!! Same to you, should you be human.”

…

“Goodnight all!” says Lem.