Colorblind

Colorblind by The Counting Crows

Last night a dead man in Washington D. C. took Lacey on a date. In 2016. She decided to try. Wear period appropriate clothing…makeup and hair. Period appropriate perfume.

He liked it. And at dinner, outside in June he suddenly said, “You know, you could be First Lady.” Lacey knew exactly what he meant.

It REPULSED her.

“There are like ten guys staring at you right now. And one of them is a U.S. Senator.” he said.

She wanted to disappear. This is exactly why she never dressed period appropriate.

Her response made him fall in love a little. But she couldn’t stand it. So she stood-up, excused herself, and then went to hide in the bathroom.

Colorblind by Counting Crows plays again.

What should she say to him?

“I’m feeling suddenly vile. It’s not anything wrong with you. I’m just not feeling particularly well humored. I think I’m going to go get in a taxi and walk around the art museum.” she says.

He nods. “Okay!” he says in increasing shock.

“I’m sorry! You’re delightful!” she says. Then she walks out and once alone, relaxes.

She orders a taxi and hops over towards the art museum, buys sensible shoes for waking first. Wanders around. Loses herself in the art. Decides she hates living in Washington D. C.. Goes home packs, quits work, buys a plane ticket and goes home to Minnesota.

“I can’t kill myself.” she thinks. “But what in the world am I supposed to do?”

The only thing that makes any sense…is to just go to England. So…she finds resources to move to England. And in this case…she does. Because she can’t kill herself.

And once there…she hides. She’s quiet. Depressed. But…it’s a lot less chaotic than living in the US. And in this scenario she may or may not get married and have kids. But…people in England don’t expect her to be happy for them on penalty of torture and death.

(Adult content below)

“Happy for them?” asks a perfume hater named Suzanne.

“Yes!! Constantly! In my face. Never caring. Just…pick, pick, pick.” says Lacey.

The father who raised her is APPALLED!

“Gawl! You must hate the Americans!” he says to her aghast…perplexed…and dismayed.

“No.” she says calmly, coldly and with certainty. And she’d explain why but no one alive gives a tiny fucking shit anyway?

“No!! I HATE YOU!!!” a Monica in the Illuminati says to Lacey, seething with years of repressed rage. “You are soo much more like me than you say. You’re a liar!! We’re so similar!” She bubbles with venom and angst. “You’re just a STUPID, MANIPULATIVE attention-whore!”

“No. That’s not accurate.” Lacey says to her, unsurprised and annoyed as a Monica struggles to comprehend the sentence.

“But you’re angry at me?” asks a Monica losing her grasp on her emotions. Shaking.

With total calm, “Yes! I’m angry. You’re acting like an obsessive, narcissistic idiot. We’re absolutely nothing alike and my anger proves absolutely nothing.”

“You wanna suck my dick?” Michael asks Monica.

“You want my cock up your wet pussy?” asks Lem coldly of a Monica.

Time Traveller by M. I. A. plays.

“You know…I don’t want to stick my cock up any part of you. But I would like to slit your throat.” says Lem to a Monica.

“Smash her head in?” wonders Lacey. “She is OBNOXIOUS.” Lacey thinks. “You and your American-gutter-crap-Aclintons should be rolled over under a tank. And we could all cheer as your bones cracked. And your souls sank into Hell for eternity slowly? Or no? Would you prefer Heaven or Hell? Does your brain work well enough to understand my very simple question?”

Edna by King Oliver And His Orchestra plays.

“So I’m an annoying bimbo who somehow managed to go to good schools and get famous?” asks a Monica of Lacey.

“Yes! That’s all you are. In that regard. An obsessive, unstable, pushy woman.” says Lacey. “Or am I missing something? You’re not a real intellectual, as far as I can see.”

“Hey, we don’t necessarily want to slit your throat. But you do seem like trouble…and as far Lacey knows you’re the one with your gutter pals who really wants to kill her. So…we’re acting in self-defense. Do you comprehend?” asks Michael of a Monica.

“I seem like a low-class floozie?” says a Monica to Lacey.

“That’s all you truly are. Correct?” says Lacey.

“But you think Bill and Hill are too?” she asks giggling.

“They’re…circus freaks in some respects.” says Lacey. “But that’s a wholly unwarranted insult to the circus.” She thinks. “No, they’ve worked I’m sure. And I admire them for not being lazy, at least. But from what I can ascertain they’re gutter trash.” She thinks. “Any time you molest a child any progress you’ve made socio-economically is null and void. And from what I hear they’re violent, moronic pedophiles. Of course, I could be wrong.”

“Do you think I’m one?” she asks.

“Maybe? Are you?” asks Lacey.

“I’m terrified by this conversation. Even if I’m not truly a pedophile.” says a Monica.

“Too bad you got in over your head.” says Lacey. “I’m sorry I’m so harsh, if that’s all it is in respect to you.”

“Do you actually feel trapped in the US?” asks a Suzanne in the perfume community of Lacey.

“Yes! I feel trapped in the 21st Century too though. But, where I live is bearable.” says Lacey.

The ghost of the man in Washington D. C. asks if Lacey would be kind enough to meet him in the art museum. The National Gallery of Art. She agrees to.

“I’m sorry I said you could be First Lady.” he says to Lacey.

“I want to dismantle this entire country.” she says. “But that’s not why it bothered me so much. I don’t know why it did. It’s bizarre. Do you know?”

“I think it’s like calling you a whore in your mind.” he says.

She thinks. “Yes! It sounds like it belongs on the path to literal Hell.” says Lacey.

In Limbo by Radiohead plays.

He thinks of Lem. “So…you wouldn’t feel like the American version of a Queen?”

“Often it feels like no one ever respects me or my decisions.” says Lacey. “They try to walk all over me. And it makes my skin crawl.” She thinks. “Then I have to conquer them. And then they get scared, play dumb and pretend to be victims.”

He cries.

“You would have been a damn good First Lady.” he says.

“It’s just eight years.” says Lacey.

He laughs.

“Yeah…but…it’s kind of a big deal.” he says.

“It’s eight stupid years of people beating you up.” says Lacey. “And then the opposing party ruins everything you accomplished.”

“You really HATE this country in some ways?” he says trying not to sob.

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t? It’s not all bad. It didn’t use to be anyway. …But it’s kind of a rip-off at times too. …Eight years really is a very short amount of time.” says Lacey.

“As opposed to having a monarch and a prime minister?” he asks.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Does that really work that well?!” he asks.

“Yes! As long as the monarchy does its duty.” says Lacey. “And that’s an enormous task.”

“So why don’t you go to the UK?” he asks.

“It’s not that easy.” says Lacey.

Bitter Sweet Symphony by The Verve plays.

Lacey looks around the room for the men supposedly staring at her. They aren’t looking. Instead people shuffle around pretending not to see her staring around the room. Either her date was lying or she probably gets noticed more than she realizes.

Exhausted she walks to the National Gallery of Art and lays on the wooden floor after it’s been properly cleaned. Alone. It’s glorious.

“Does Lem love you?” asks an Illuminati witch.

“I have…no idea!” she says, with thoughtful melancholy.

Move by Saint Motel plays.

“No. I don’t have to move? Right?” Lacey asks her father.

“No!” says Mlle. Coco Chanel. “It looks delightful.”

Lacey sighs a sigh of sweet relief.

Michael walks in and asks Lacey, “Wanna go sit on a yacht?”

“Mmm. Who’s yacht and where?” she asks, concerned.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks yawning.

“No! Please!” she says.

He smiles, stretches out and lays there as well.

“My yacht!” he says.

“Mmm. I like this place.” she says. “So much love went into this building alone. So much joy. So many good memories!”

“It’s easier to sleep on my yacht.” says Michael.

“Oh Michael, I don’t want to get seasick.” says Lacey.

“Well…we could find quiet seas.” he says.

Old Money by Lana Del Rey plays.

She looks at him, cries. “I love Lem. What happened?!” she asks.

“Mmm. I know.” he says empathetically.

“Dare I smell like strawberries?” she asks.

He thinks seriously. “Let’s get sandwiches here first!” he says with terror.

“No! To the yacht!” says Lacey standing-up.

“Mmm. That’s wise.” he says. “Don’t walk!”

“I’m not. I’m waiting.” she says.

He joins her. She collapses into his arms. He escorts her out of the museum as if she’s half conscious. And they nap peacefully on their way to the yacht.

“This is where both Lacey and us get lost.” says India in the Illuminati. “She’s right. Pedophilia is just insane and vile. Incapable of being good at all. Although God can restore the victims! And redeem humanity. …But why is this…vile?” He thinks. “We don’t know if reincarnation is in the Bible for sure or not. And regardless, it’s a beautiful story. Maybe even with some elements of truth. …Why…can’t she be genuinely sad and find hope with Michael? Why is their love in the story so upsetting to the American Illuminati?”

Ready, Able by Grizzly Bear plays.

“Those lyrics are haunting.” says Lacey. “My ex-boyfriend was attacked in D. C. in the afternoon at gunpoint. Robbed. But…it made sense. He was dressed in a three piece suit in a terrible neighborhood known for prostitution and drugs. …And he prayed the Rosary in his head and survived.” says Lacey. “It was in a terrible area. How did you die in Washington D. C.?” she asks the dead man she went on a date with.

“What do you think about the rosary?” asks Lem of Lacey.

“I’m unclear on its safety. I’m not Catholic. But…I’m willing to be wrong if I am. God knows. And I plead for His mercy in Jesus’s name in regard to my ignorance theologically, regardless.” says Lacey.

“She’s in love with me!!” says Mr. Blue psychotically to the Illuminati, in reference to Lacey. His pal, Wobbly, always believes him.

“Yeah! She’s scum, man!” says another They in the Illuminati in his Manhattan penthouse. He’s in the pedophilia ring.

Wobbly looks upset. Grimaces. “She’s just a wannabe. She’s just in love with her delusional beliefs. …She probably has a delusional personality disorder.” He scoffs. “Michael Rockefeller would never touch her sad ass! Ugly bitch!” he says bitingly. “They’re ghosts so she can manipulate the idea of them! It’s so easy to do that! That’s why I just say, ‘FUCK IT!’ I’m an atheist.”

“Yeah! Me too! On the down-low.” says Mr. Blue.

“Yeah? I mean… That’s all there is! Just…this living life. And you gotta be smart. I try to reach out to people who are too weak to understand. But…sometimes they just bum me out.” says Wobbly to Mr. Blue.

“Yeah.” laughs Mr. Blue.

“So…we hate Lacey?” asks the pedophile.

“Mmm. Yeah!” says Mr. Blue.

“She’s obsessed with my uncle.” says Wobbly.

“Probably you too!” says Mr. Blue.

“Really? I would have thought I was too normal for her weird tastes.” says Wobbly.

“Aww! Don’t be sad, man. She’ll come around.” says Mr. Blue.

“Oh! That’s right! You kind of almost got something sexual from her years ago.” says Wobbly to Mr. Blue.

“Hey! I can sell you children?” says the Manhattan pedophile seriously to Wobbly and Mr. Blue.

“Yeah! No thanks for now, man. It’s just bad timing.” says Mr. Blue to the pedophile in Manhattan.

“I’m kinda laying low myself too these days.” says Wobbly with a badass tone.

“Alright! I’ve got two great girls here!” says the pedophile.

“No! It’s cool! Just chill.” says Wobbly.

“Yeah! Bad timing!” says Mr. Blue.

Wobbly laughs.

“If you guys even knew the kind of trouble I’ve gotten myself into lately!” says Wobbly chuckling at his own antics.

“Yeah, dude! You are hard core!” says Mr. Blue admiringly.

“You gotta be. You gotta be!” says Wobbly.

“You do good work my fellow. You do good work!” says Mr. Blue opening his refrigerator.

“Yeah. It’s been rough lately.” says Wobbly to Mr. Blue.

“Say, we should hang sometime and discuss the Biden situation with Wall Street!” Mr. Blue says to Wobbly.

Wobbly becomes quiet. Thinks. “We already did that.”

“Not enough!” says Mr. Blue.

“I’m bored so easily these days.” says Wobbly.

“Fine! But you know it’s going to happen eventually!” says Mr. Blue.

Wobbly feels suddenly trapped in life. “I’m bored.” he protests.

“Whatever!” says Mr. Blue.

“Just go with the flow! That’s what I told Lacey. And you should too.” he says.

“Yeah, but she’s an idiot.” says Wobbly.

“Well…she trusted me to not be what I am.” says Mr. Blue. “A rapist. Essentially.”

“But you still think she’s in love with you?” asks Wobbly.

“I will tomorrow. Today I’m wondering if I’m just imaging things at times to feel less scared of Hell.” says Mr. Blue.

“Cool!” says Wobbly.

Cleaning Apartment by Clint Mansell & Kronos Quartet plays.

“I’m calling de de bullshit on Lem!!” yells Kurt Cobain. “He’s being smothered psychically by Lacey’s attackers.”

“They don’t think very well these days.” says the dead man in Washington D. C..

Suddenly a dead man leaps out of the ground across from the White House. He races away.

Summertime as performed by Sidney Bechet plays.

“I’m just totally unloved here.” says Lacey about the U.S.

“I tried to sell you on it.” says Joe Jr..

“But you was too dang busy taking names and slapping ass!” says Lacey humorously.

“He thinks your crazy.” Bobby Sr. says about his sons.

“I know.” says Lacey patiently. “Except why does it enrage and terrify him then?”

“Yeah! And if there’s Purgatory I can’t handle your impudence!” Bobby Sr. yells at Lacey.

Michael laughs.

“Stop being so stupid. It’s give me a headache.” says Lacey. “You are being stupid. Right?”

“Yeah.” he says sadly.

“Gosh, you were handsome.” she says fondly to Bobby Sr..

“Thanks.” he says sweetly. He’s flirting.

She laughs. Smiles sweetly.

Then they stand and wait for further direction from Joe Jr..

Joe Jr. has no idea what to do next.

“Well…I’m bored.” says Lacey. “Sorry.” she wanders off.

Smokehouse Blues by Jelly Roll Morton plays.

“I’m sorry! She’s an 8!” says Mr. Blue.

“I’d say 7!” says Wobbly.

“Why?” asks Lem.

“Your face isn’t symmetrical enough.” says Wobbly.

“My face isn’t symmetrical enough. What about Lacey’s face?” asks Lem.

“It’s not symmetrical enough.” says Wobbly.

“But is it objectively beautiful?” asks Lem.

“Yeah! But that doesn’t count. I’m into elite shit!” says Wobbly in his spirit.

“Your wives and girlfriends have never been as objectively beautiful as Lacey. It’s a laughable comparison.“ says Lem.

“That’s mean!” says Wobbly.

“Well…it’s true then!” says Lem. “Right?!?”

“Yeah, okay. Whatever!” says Wobbly like a cool-kid.

“None of the Kennedy women are as sexy, elegant or feminine as Lacey. Much less as beautiful.” says Lem matter-of-factly.

“That’s just a fact.” says Bobby Sr..

“Isn’t that sad?” asks Lacey.

“Fine!!!” says Bobby Sr.. “That is sad!!”

“There’s something gross about it.” says Lacey.

“Are you suggesting we’re all closeted homosexuals?” asks Bobby Sr. laughing.

“I doubt that.” says Lacey seriously. “What’s the real problem? Because the men tend to be unusually handsome but the women are not.”

He thinks. “Jackie was our prettiest. And no, of course I’m not dumb enough to-I get the point.” he says rationally.

“Don’t you think it’s disturbing?” asks Lacey.

“It is!” says Louis.

“No!” says Michael. “Other countries don’t have this problem.”

“Yeah, Lacey shouldn’t be with Michael.” says a Suzanne in the perfume community. “It’s weird.”

“It’s a sign of death.” says Lacey.

“Yeah, but if you are a rare beauty…Lem and Michael make sense.” says a southern American man.

“Her marriage to me should have happened. But…it didn’t.” Michael says.

“And if it had…then what?” asks Lacey.

“The Rockefeller’s would have Lacey in their ownership. Let’s be honest. And what would that actually mean?” asks a dead D. C. man.

“She’s really that beautiful. And there’s literally no one I’ve ever met who’s genuinely better looking.” says Michael. “Lem is endearing…but you can’t let that happen. Because he has to be gay and in love with the Kennedy’s, especially Jack to all of you. …But if I possess her…it’s…no longer a real democracy.”

Say So by Doja Cat plays.

“See…y’all catty boss byotches these days.” says Michael to America. “That’s the vibe!” He thinks. “And Lacey doesn’t fit in. But…unfortunately for America…she just ends-up with me.” He thinks. “You can’t snub her out of Heaven. You’re not actually all gods.” He thinks. “See…your instinct is to incessantly attack Lacey. Mindlessly. And molest kids. …So you’re alienating her and molesting kids…and then you expect her to feel sorry for you?” he wonders. “She doesn’t want you to go to Hell.”

“They’ll make you disappear!” says a Millennial to Lacey.

“They tried!” says Lacey. “But what happens if I die?” asks Lacey.

“Nothing!” says Lem. “They’ll die too! It’s just nothing! Just blackness!”

“Okay!” says Wobbly. “Whatever you say!” he says batting his eyes.

“Jack never married Lem! But at least they had Lem!” says a gay man.

“Yeah! So be hurt for once!” says Wobbly to Lacey.

“I wasn’t as beautiful as Lacey.” says Lem. “But does that even count? Don’t cheat, America.” says Lem.

“Computers rank her face as almost a ten. She doesn’t photograph well.” says an Asian woman.

“Impressive!” says a gay American man sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“Fine! She’s not being vain. Just frighteningly clinical and scientific about her beauty.” says a gay man. “I bet even her nails and pores are perfect?” he says to Michael.

“Yes! Everything is of the highest quality as far as humans go. Even her soul. She’s…frighteningly perfect. And completely at ease as long as nobody forces her to be better than other people in some unfair way.” says Michael.

Schubert plays.

And at that Michael feels sleepy. Lem panics.

Michael and Lacey are both tired. On his yacht.

Ponchartrain by Jelly Roll Morton plays.

“Thank God Woody Allen used jazz music.” says Lacey.

Michael smiles. Lays back.

Lacey rests too. In her own hammock. On deck.

“Let’s go inside!” says Michael to Lacey.

“Alright!” says Lacey.

Lem races after them after watching and being horrified but not saying a word moments before.

West End Blues by King Oliver And His Orchestra plays.

Micheal and Lacey climb into bed together. Pull up the down comforter. Hold each other, close their eyes and rest. Lem stands and watches.

Let Me Blow Your Mind by Eve plays.

“Alright!! EVERYONE UP!” says Lem.

The song plays.

“UP!!” yells Lem.

The song plays.

He stands there.

They lay there.

“Fine! I’ll get my own yacht!” says Lem.

After a yacht appears next to Michael’s Lem walks back on board, grabs half asleep Lacey, flings her over his back and then walks to his yacht. Puts her awkwardly into his bed. And then rests next to her.

U Not Like Me by 50 Cent plays.

Lacey asks, “Can I safely sleep?”

He studies her. Looks sad.

“You’re pulling life for Christ.” says Lem.

“I always was.” says Lacey. “But I’m glad I didn’t realize it was hopeless until after I had my kids.”

“Why don’t they get that? They’re losing death.” says Lem. “Genuinely. Death is so-called meaningless with Christ.”

Criminal by Eminem plays.

“Amen.” says Lem.

In the White House.

The song plays.

“This is…good music!” says JFK. He tries to dance. But the shots and burglary scene throw him off.

But not to be outdone or intimidated JFK grabs a plastic gun and freestyles. Dances around the Oval Office with his plastic gun. He hires a maid to act out the burglary scene with him.

“We had to lie.” says Jack. “I would never have been elected otherwise.”

“But it wasn’t Nazi Germany.” says Lacey. “So a lie matters more than not?”

“Your father didn’t care. But he never had kids.” says JFK to Lacey.

“My father was old money.” says Lacey.

He rests his chin on his old desk.

“Yeah. He knew how dumb it was.” says JFK.

“And he was jaded.” says Lacey.

“Our fathers are a lot alike.” he says.

“Your dad is infinitely more famous. But my dad might be kinder.” says Lacey.

“It was disgusting to not bring you into the world in the early 20th Century. But then of course…would you be you anyway?” wonders JFK.

“Only God truly knows.” says Lacey.

“Well, it’s too late now.” says Jack.

Comptine d’un autre été l’après midi by Yann Tiersen plays.

“Was your family ever going to do anything other than try to keep Lem and I apart though?” asks Lacey. “What was the point of me being there?”

“You really don’t think Lem loves you.” he says.

“Jack you having cause to even ask that question alone is disgusting.” says Lacey.

He thinks. “Oh! I see. So…it’s that high principled?”

“Yes! I think in the back of my mind I am that exact.” says Lacey.

“You aren’t loved.” he says.

She sighs. “I know. But what’s your point?”

Lights Are On by Tom Rosenthal plays.

“I don’t really know Lem!” he says. “But my dad and my brother were both in love with you.”

“No. They weren’t. Were they?” wonders Lacey.

“No…I know it’s weird as…money…but they actually did.” he says.

“Nobody, including your living family, truly knows that. If it’s true.” says Lacey.

“Money is weird. Isn’t it?” he says.

“It’s a lie. Just a lie.” says Lacey. “Actually, it’s Santa Claus in a 2010’s film. Not an outright lie.”

Miss You by The Rolling Stones plays.

“True that!” says JFK.

Apparently he likes The Rolling Stones too.

“Well…-“ says Lacey, searching for something to say. But Michael interrupts.

He lifts her out of her seat, flings her over his shoulder. Carries her over his shoulder back to his yacht.

“He always does this. I’m exhausted!” says Lacey. “He wins. But then it’s impossible to stay.”

Blue by Benny Goodman plays.

Michael leans over and kisses her forcefully. He pauses.

“You are in love with him.” He smiles.

“I am. I would love for you to be him. And then…for you to be happier without me. With someone more perfect and glorious for you. I want you to be beautifully rewarded for every wonderful thing you’ve ever done.” says Lacey. “But it never seems to matter what I truly want until death threats are made. And it’s been that way my whole life.”

Colorblind by Counting Crows plays.

Lacey gets confused. Decides to go roast a chicken.

She hears the screams of tortured children as she throws garlic on the meat. Worries for them. Prays to a real God and threatens the pedophilic IDIOTS of the Illuminati with eternal Hell. They don’t…comprehend. Like…they often seem virtually braindead. Genuinely.

“No! They’re smart!” says a tragically confused Gen Z cool-kid who does the old money aesthetic. He really thinks the ultra elites are genuinely brilliant. Maybe there’s a certain logic to it and maybe they used to be far more often…but it’s complicated.

Michael demands Lem apologize.

A dead man in Washington D. C. smirks.

Lovers From The Past by Mareux plays.

Lacey wraps a giant rope around the United States. She giggles. Ties a knot. And begins dragging it into outer-space.

“Where is it going?” asks her uncle.

“We’ll see!” says Lacey. “I gave the end of the rope to God.”

“Yeah! That’s not real!” says Wobbly.

“What is real? Your hard, hot cock? Now available in microwavable snack packs!” says Lacey to Wobbly. “I cannot resist your charms… And now you can’t resist mine, in new green cherry flavor!” She thinks. “People are so disappointing. …I bet if you had tried to sell candies snack packs of your penis in some country in the 1970’s or 80’s people would have bought them.”

“You think I’m a joke.” says Wobbly.

“Yes! You are a joke. But you told the joke.” says Lacey.

He smirks.

“Oh right! You’re a sociopath and you don’t care. I forgot.” says Lacey.

“They did that to me.” he says.

“Not entirely though. Right?” asks Lacey.

“You are making fun of my penis?” he asks.

“No!” she says shaking her head no. “No! I’m saying you mocked your own soul if you have any heart that’s functioning.” She thinks. “You made yourself meaningless. And unless you really are a sociopath that’s a vile thing to do to your myself. You disgust me. And I mean that respectfully.” She thinks. “And I’d think that whether in your aunt or not. I’m sorry, Wobbly.”

“You think I’m a wretched person for what I’ve done to women?” he asks.

“Yes and no. I think you are in a way. But…your eternal soul has potential to be saved until your last breath.” says Lacey. “You matter!”

“No! She’s not trying to sleep with you. She’s just messed-up. But I think she cares.” says a former child hostage to Wobbly.

“So…if I let her die…is that a bad sign for evil or a good sign?” asks God of the Illuminati, should they exist.

“You can’t save me!” says Wobbly to Lacey.

“No! No one can the way God does.” says Lacey.

“See I just don’t think that that’s true.” he says.

“Huh. Explain.” says Lacey.

“I think it’s a parent’s job to save their kids.” he says.

“But…they can’t determine the fate of your eternal soul the way you and God do. And there’s a certain loneliness in that…but that’s why a soulmate is so lovely a concept. You get to have an eternal other. You aren’t alone. Like Adam and Eve. And…that’s why romance is so important and so potentially dangerous.” says Lacey. “You can’t risk giving yourself to the wrong person. Because they’re it. At least that’s the idea I’ve gathered about it. But…God and you are the only ones who have much say over your fate, ultimately. But He’s like a Father anyway in Christianity. The best one. Ever.” She thinks. “Whether I’m crazy or not…it’s very hard to argue against what I’m saying…for a possibly horrible reason? …Could it be that these ideas are simply just…objective fact?”

A old Boomer gets mad at Lacey.

“Why don’t you commit to Lem?” he asks Lacey.

“I try to. But Jack shows-up. And Michael tries to restrain himself and Louis tries to get over me…but…then Jack goes too far hurting me and Lem doesn’t protect me. And Lem is still struggling to believe I loved him and left him when I did because I was just deeply hurt so he’s so-called moody and definitely hurtful. And he refuses to apologize. …And then Michael sees I’m literally dying and saves me. Or Louis does. But mostly Michael. …And…I can sense Lem is hurt even more then although he’s also humble and sincerely appreciative.” says Lacey.

Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet plays.

“I’m sorry.” says Lem. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how much pain I was going to put you through.” he says to Lacey. “By approaching things in the last few years the way I have.”

“I can’t respond to that.” says Lacey in enormous pain.

“You know why I can’t accept this reality?” he says laughing.

“Are you trying to harass me?” she asks.

“No!” he says.

“How do you expect me to believe that?” asks Lacey. “Is that even fair?”

Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 in E Minor plays.

“You didn’t need to sleep with them to make me have wiggle room to make it up to you.” says Lem to Lacey.

“What else does one do then, Lem?” asks Lacey. “What other options are provided?”

Michael smiles.

“I don’t know. But sleeping with someone is a plain thing to do.” he says.

“True!! Which is the beauty of it. It’s brilliantly effective. Isn’t that the game everyone plays?” she asks.

“You’re not one to play it.” he says.

“And that’s the only think you know about me at all isn’t it? I’m not like Jack?” asks Lacey patiently.

“No, I’ve never swooned over you.” he says.

She nods.

“I’m angry you slept with someone else.” he says.

“I’m not responding to that drivel.” she says. “If this is your idea of love please do yourself a favor and find someone idiotic, shrewish, asexual, dull-as-dirt, unimaginative, mildly ugly, heartless, shallow, unimportant, cruel, vile, and useless to anyone but God and you.”

“All I wanted to do was make love to her. You do it every night. And she trusts you with her everything every time thinking it’s forever. You don’t! And I NEED HER TOO! YOU WRETCHED MAN!!” says Michael losing his temper.

“Go on!” says Lem.

“You use her!!!” yells Louis. “What is she?! Like a drug to you?!? …You don’t respect her mind. Or heart. I do. I understand how confusing this this world is. And she does too. She’s has an enormous amount of empathy for you. Unrequited?”

Lem cries. “That’s not so!” he yells. Then bites his fist.

Lacey stares at him calmly in shock. She’s not giving the emotional response he predicted.

Prince Philip laughs as he understands ran Lacey’s pain. Empathizes with it.

“I’d be lost too, Lem. Because you sound very mean.” he says.

Le Sacre du Printemps plays. All of it.

“Lem…you’re mad? Do you want me to make you angrier tonight?” asks Michael. “You’ve given me the right by treating her emotions the way you have…to dismiss you for eternity.”

“Does he even give two shits?” asks Lacey. “Maybe you love me…but Lem is too tall and pretty. I’m just a woman and a loser to him. And men like Lem think women shouldn’t have existed.”

“I bet a Putin would use her body?” wonders Louis. “Not let it go to waste. And people like to feel needed. Do you think women are human, Lem?”

“I can guarantee women are human!” says Prince Philip.

“I’d use it too. Matter-of-fact, I have.” says Louis. “But I also love her. So it’s better!”

“And…what about me?” laughs Michael. “What’s so funny Lem?! What were you laughing about earlier?”

“Yeah! Go on! Tell us the joke!” says Prince Philip.

“It’s wonderful to think she loved me. And I’m in awe of the fact that she wasn’t trying to leave me.” he says.

“Lem, what did you expect? For her heart to be worth garbage?” asks Michael.

“I’m sorry! Earlier I was in denial about how much I’ve hurt you.” says Lem to Lacey far too casually and it makes her father upset. Makes her mother weep.

Micheal stands and then rushes out of the room.

“Lem…we aren’t 50,000 prostitutes. Nor just anyone. Doesn’t she get credit for that? She’s not lose. She’s violently righteously angry.” says Louis to Lem. “And the sad, SICK truth of it is that you caused it!”

I“Lem God certainly warns against sodomy. And the sad truth is that you dishonored her if you were straight. Why don’t you have a conscience about that serious sin?” asks a Liberal pastor. “And I think Jack and the Kennedy’s just sadistically enjoy using you to torture her. It’s one step up from kidnapping and BRUTALLY torturing her children.”

“You’re an embarrassment to the British Crown. We officially disown your entire shit clan. And accept your charity causes as our own. Not yours. Henceforth!” says Ireland.

“They’re not ours!” says the entirety of Great Britain for eternity.

Louis breathes.

Lem laughs. Maniacally.

“What if I’m the dead husband?” asks Lem. “And you were supposed to be able to still trust me.”

“You’d never love me that much?” says Lacey.

“Oh God no!” he says to God.

“You must think all women are vain, ugly pieces of literal shit!” says Lacey to Lem.

Micheal has possessed her. So when Lem looks at Lacey he sees Michael’s fiery eyes staring back at him. That last paragraph was said by Michael.

“Lem if reincarnation is real…I was her husband. Right? We were spectacularly in love. And you don’t understand how happy heterosexual couples can be apparently? Or were your HATEFUL, SLANDEROUS LIES about our love misunderstood? Do tell, good mate?” asks Michael. “Because she’s insulted. She’s heartbroken actually.”

“If I wasn’t mean and heartless about your confusion and just tried to help you reason through why you shouldn’t sleep with anyone but me…and offered you eternity…and constantly explained my love for you I’d not have lost you more than once if at all?” asks Lem of Lacey.

“There’s still the issue of you and Jack.” says Lacey.

Khachaturian’s Suite from Masquerade: I. Waltz plays.

“But I’d have explained that!” he says pleadingly.

“She can’t understand.” says Louis to Lem.

“Because I’m too pretty.” says Lem.

“YES!!!” yells Michael. “And then the irony is that Louis or I look ten times more attractive than you.”

“What if you were as attractive as me?” asks Lem.

“Lem…please try to believe her…just for kicks.” says Michael.

“I think you should smell like strawberries.” says Lem to Lacey. Then he reads her response.

Michael looks upset. He goes from crying over their love in brave, sensitive admiration to wondering if he’s won her forever. He smiles about his acne and glasses. Prays to God for mercy. Lacey joins him in prayer to the God of the Bible for mercy.

Stravinsky’s Rite Of Spring plays.

Lem wears Raybans and hides in the shadows at a cafe. Lacey is on a date again in 2016. She wears a bodycon dress and other 2010’s period appropriate items. As previously mentioned. At 33.

Lem stares at her. The Spring Round Dance plays.

“Hey Lacey!” he says as he stands-up in the crowd and then also says, “You’re beautiful!”

She takes out a match and lights it on fire. Hold it up into the air. Lays it on her plate.

Then she stands-up and goes to Michael in front of everyone at the restaurant. She kisses him on the mouth as Stravinsky plays.

He stands and kisses her in response. Pushes her out of the restaurant while kissing her as Stravinsky plays.

Lem follows Michael and Lacey through the restaurant.

“Lacey! On a scale of 1 to 10…in your mind…what am I?” asks Lem.

“A solid 9.” says Lacey.

Stravinsky plays. Sacrificial Dance – The Chosen Victim.

“What are you in your mind?” Lem asks Lacey.

“Based on independent, scientific research I’m a higher number than 7. Based on the love I’ve received for my beauty maybe a…1 at best.” says Lacey.

“So…you don’t think you’re beautiful at all?” he asks horrified.

“It’s not that simple. I’m a 10 or a 9. But…what does that matter when everyone hates you so passionately and isn’t ever going to admit it without violence and Hell in their eyes that you’re that beautiful. People never admit it. I’ve had to look at my old photos and see it entirely alone.” says Lacey. “And I know I was prettier than that.”

He begins to understand.

“Well. I’m leaving.” says Lacey.

Lem cries as he gives up his rage terrified he’s going to stop loving her if he does. He realizes as she leaves that he’s given her nothing. She just loves him.

“Dear God…I’m a completely useless man.” says Lem. “By choice!”

Back in the restaurant.

“Okay! Okay! What is her actual number?” asks Lem of the restaurant.

They refuse to answer. A woman gets up to leave.

“What’s her number?!?” yells Lem.

“Oh fuck you! I don’t give two shits about this ugly woman!” says an ugly woman.

“Why not?!?” yells Lem.

“Because she’s probably the Devil Himself!” she says with hatred in her eyes for Lacey. No one contradicts her.

“She’s not!” yells Lem.

“Then what the fuck does she want from me?!?” she spits.

“Sex!” says Lem sarcastically. “Right?”

“You’re a pervert!” says the woman with a slight southern accent.

“In what way?” asks Lem.

“Your wife is not attractive to me!” she says. “Are you a pimp?!?” she snarls. “I’m dead and on vacation! Don’t bother me with your business. It’s none of my business!”

Lem takes a deep breath and asks, “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“You’re Lem Billings.” she says. “But I don’t know who you are Lem.”

“What makes you think she’s my wife?” he asks.

“She’s your type.” says the woman.

“How old do you think she is?” he asks.

“89?” she says smirking. “You married her young.”

“Then why is she dressed like this?” he asks.

She looks disgusted. “I’m not sure. But I think you’re up to no good!”

“She’s alive!” says Lem. “With two kids under 12 and she’s under 45.”

The woman sits down. “I had a sister who’s husband remarried and he had kids in his 40’s… I cannot imagine how old your father must be!” She thinks. “Well…some accidents happen for a reason. But…don’t dress that way! You’re too sexy looking! It’s like Marilyn Monroe but all…prissy and dainty and demure. It’s strange looking. You shouldn’t have to try that much.”

“I do though.” says Lacey.

“You’re a ten. Or natural tens have never existed anywhere ever, as far as I’m concerned.” she says to Lacey.

“That’s your honest opinion!?” asks Lem.

“Yes!” she says.

“Are we close in attractiveness?” he asks her

She smiles. “I bet you’re good in bed. Because she wouldn’t be married to you otherwise.”

“Do you think she knows that?” he asks her.

She heartlessly laughs at Lacey. Then checks herself. “I don’t think I have ever seen someone so pretty.” then she looks to Lem.

“So you think she’s an idiot?” he asks.

She looks caught. The whole room is now inundating her with rabid attention.

“She might not be an idiot. But what kind of beauty queen walks around like that with you and then has no idea she’s hot or whatever they call it nowadays? That’s not smart. It’s aware. But not smart.” she says kindly.

Stravinsky plays.

“She’s very intelligent!” he says sincerely.

The song shifts. Tchaikovsky The Seasons, For Piano plays.

Lem looks at Lacey and realizes that she truly longs for him. Possibly more than she ever longed for Joe, as handsome as Joe is and was.

“No, she’s not stupid. She thinks I’m a 10. Or she wants me so much it doesn’t even matter.” he says.

“You are handsome. But you’re not her type!” says the woman.

“But she’s my type?!?” he asks.

“Well…you look wealthy.” she says. “And yet…I’d imagine her with someone better looking.”

“He’s very handsome!” says Lacey. “He’s my ideal.”

The woman stares at Lacey. She’s suddenly in shock.

Carmen Suite For Orchestra No. 2 by Bizet plays.

“You’re scary!” she says to Lacey with a grin. “You know I’m a ghost? …Or no? You do and don’t…”. Her mouth drops open. “I was weird in my town. I had a habit of being too quiet.” she jokes. She thinks. Looks at Lem. “He really is your ideal.” She thinks. “Would you have stayed faithful to him during the war?!”

“Would he have stayed faithful to me?!” Lacey asks.

“Honestly?” she laughs. “Cheating on you is the dumbest thing a man could do!” She thinks. “He’s too sweet and smart to do that.”

“I don’t trust him.” says Lacey.

“Who hurt you, honey?” she asks.

“Who ruined my ability to trust men?” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” she asks.

“A man named Joe.” says Lacey.

The woman looks around the room. Cries. It’s her first trip to Washington D. C. in a long time and it has meant a lot to her.

“You mean Joe Kennedy Jr. don’t you?” she says. She laughs and cries at the same time. “Of course you’d exist!!” she says with venom. “You’re exactly the sort of sweet, tragic…loving woman men like him love and then ruin. …You’re more tragic than Jackie. She had a life. Somehow I doubt you’ve had much of a life. Am I right?”

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“He’s not in his right mind letting you go.” she says suddenly and adamantly.

“I’m over him.” says Lacey.

She blinks. Her eyes grow wide. She tries not to laugh. She smiles. She looks at Lem.

“We don’t know men like you.” she says to Lem. Then she looks at Lacey. “You’re both dark horses.”

“Do you find it fascinating that the Kennedy’s brought us both out of the shadows of our culture?” asks Lacey.

Nocturne For Piano No. 15 in F Minor by Chopin as performed by Arthur Rubinstein plays.

III. by Philip Glass plays.

“Yes! I’m realizing that. But you know Karrie…he doesn’t and didn’t seem like a homosexual. I’ve known gay men! I’ve had lots of gay friends over the years. He’s not gay. And why that man…thought letting him into his family was a good idea is beyond me. It reminds me of 9/11. He’s no good!” she says. “For you it’s not the same. He’s your husband, sweetie. …But for a man like John Kennedy it was very dumb and dangerous.” She thinks. “If he’d been faithful to you you’d have been able to get away with the Kennedy’s. But…they had Lem not you.” She laughs. “Everyone in 2023 likely thinks Lem wore Chanel, drank Earl Grey, came from your immediate family, loved men, was long-suffering and yet vicious when necessary, hated to make a fuss about himself, and could have drifted off into death alone without being seen by JFK. And yet none of that is true. He wasn’t you.” She thinks. “They mixed you two up in their heads. Mark my words!”

“Time for bed!” says Michael like a loving husband to Lacey.

“Lovely talking with you!” says Lacey to the woman. “Thank you!

“We’re off to sleep.” says Lem about him and Lacey.

“Don’t ever try this at home!!!” Lacey admonishes her readers. She pleads. Also she would never let kids have drugs.