Lacey sits in a Victorian house and wonders if she’s hearing things or if she’s experiencing the ghosts of the people who originally lived in the house.

“Sometimes the dead comfort the living through the Holy Spirit. It’s not that uncommon.” the man of the house says? He looks uneasy. “It’s Catholic…sort of.”

If they’re ghosts they find her father fascinating. He owned a cabin up north somewhat nearby and they maybe…gossiped about him in the 1920’s. 1930’s and 40’s? It’s a small town. …Maybe there were stories about his celebrity friends. The drama. The criminal intrigue. His wealth. It was good chatter when one was bored. Lacey relates to them and she likes their house.

Lem throws a snowball at the window. It’s loud. He’s trying to get Lacey’s attention? “You’re right!!” he yells at her. She can’t put it into words but she knows what he means.

“Yup!” Michael can be audibly heard saying? He’s not going to assume she’s safe without him.

It’s disturbing. Lacey’s falling deeply in love with Lem…and Michael. And Louis? More?

The Billings and Rockefeller’s are interesting people to travel with. But the ghosts of the house are so delightful about it all.

The original man of the house has watched so many visitors enjoy the house. He smiles.

“They spend hours next to the water. On hikes! They love it here!” he says cheerfully.

The woman of the house almost manifests. She’s very kind. Lacey can almost literally see her. It’s a face and hair style from the past? She’s empathetic. Concerned about Lacey.

“You can really see us!” says the man of the house.

“Is there something unusual about my brain?” wonders Lacey.

She hears him audibly consider it.

“YES!” says Lem.

“We are almost as real as your children to you, if we’re ghosts.” says the man.

“You seem alive in Christ?” says Lacey.

More later.

Lacey is overwhelmed.

Lacey is too pretty she thinks. Too pretty and was too pretty.

“No! People called me cute. But I wasn’t cute…I was what would have been a bombshell. …In 2010 it was what? …Very pretty??” she thinks.

“You’re right.” says Lem. “I was tall. And handsome, I guess. …And even though I felt I could have gotten married…and even if I had known I wasn’t really gay at all…I didn’t have the options one might imagine. …You’re better looking than me. But…people are far pickier than people are led to believe.” He thinks. “Especially when you’re not…the sort of person who really tries to get that sort of attention. I didn’t and you wouldn’t and don’t either.”

Michael sighs. He came on to her earlier. Very forcefully. And it seemed…odd. Because it was so…random and Lem and her had just a lovely chat. Now she understands why. She smiles.

“The thing is…I don’t think the men alive and young when I was young who I met…would have even seemed right with me. …As I look at myself in pictures and recall my actual appearance as I was better looking…I was…great looking. But…I was too sad and empathetic to be a heartbreaker…and too…elegant and beautiful in a sort of…exacting, obvious, possibly aristocratic…dainty way to be what? Sexually relatable to Millennial men? …It’s like…you could buy the navy blue velvet men’s jacket by Chanel…circa 2008…and look…great in London. Or Manhattan. But…most men would rather have bought a $150 t-shirt than that.”

“Or a Brooks Brother’s suit…designed specifically for me.” says Lem smiling. He winks at her. “You’re more a tailored suit.”

“Too tailored.” says Michael in agreement.

“Except other men back then would have been so much more aware that you were available.” says a Silent Generation man.

“True! But she would have been picky.” says Lem.

“You’re tailored suit!” says Rose Marie. “You’re not casual enough.”

“That’s not just about my eye color. That’s everything.” says Lacey.

“You sound like them when you’re being yourself and responding to them.” says a Gen X woman.

Zero by Electric Guest plays.

“You walk like them. Your body was made for dresses and skirts and peddle pushers.” says the woman.

Michael laughs. “Yes! …She’s our generation one way or another.” He thinks. “It’s sad.” He listens to the song. “We’re…dead…you know?” He laughs.

Rose Marie laughs. “You watched…a depressing episode of the Dick Van Dyke show tonight.”

“Michael knew. And Joe…was at a bar? And…someone or something told me that…and then seconds later you out of the blue started talking about being drafted to be a U. S. President.” says Lacey.

“Talking with US vets.” says Rose Marie.

“Is he still there?” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” she smiles.

They think.

“How’s Jack these days?” asks a comedic actor who played a funny police officer.

“He’s with God!” says Lem.

“Is Pat Wilson with him?!” asks Lacey.

Detonators by Alexandre Desplat plays as Pat Wilson arrives. At the bar.

Suddenly two people possibly walking home from a bar pass by Lacey’s vacation spot.

“What does a living person seem like compared to Rose Marie?” asks a reader.

“They have a heavy, sadder feeling to them. …Unfortunately. …Although they’re far more hopeful? …Rose Marie is…sitting on a sofa in the living room with me. But…she’s both more upbeat, loving and…at peace…and yet…she’s so very dead.” says Lacey.

“Yeah!” she says sadly and thoughtfully.

“I was like that before I died.” says Queen Elizabeth II.

“I’m a very scary ghost already.” says Lacey.

“I’m not scary?!“ says Elizabeth.

“No!! You’re a beautiful ghost!” says Rose Marie.

“She really is.” says Lacey.

Cornfield Chase by Hans Zimmer plays.

“Michael…are you a scary ghost?” asks a Sarah.

He almost cries. Fights the tears.

“I can be scary!” says his father.

“I am scary! Very scary!” says Michael.

Catholics pray.

“Is Athalia Ponsell scary?” asks a Gen X woman.

“YES!!!” she says.

“Sometimes those entities are demons or fallen angels.” says Lacey. “So just because some spiritual entity feels scary doesn’t mean it’s a nice person’s ghost in Purgatory who cares but was murdered.” She thinks. “But…perhaps there’s something to it? …And if you’re sensing scary ghosts…or demons cast them out first in Jesus’s name. …If they’re like me or Michael or Athalia they’ll not be remotely offended. Unless you’re doing something evil. …If they’re a demon or fallen angel and you’re a Christian rebuking them…they should respect God’s authority.” She thinks. “Unless you’re inviting them in.”

“Do you get scared by ghosts?” asks an Illuminati witch in Australia.

“Not much anymore. I sense myself getting scared. …But…I feel so close to death at this point…it’s not the same anymore, thankfully and not.” says Lacey. “And hopefully I’ll live another 20, 30, 40, 50 years. I mean close by proximity. As in…somehow my death is not real but not unreal at this point possibly?”

“Are you a poltergeist?” she asks.

Lacey thinks. “Against my will.” she says. “And hopefully it’ll change in 40 years before I fully die…if I’m dead.”

“Okay, let me clarify: Are you dead??” she asks.

“Are you in the Illuminati?” asks Michael.

She laughs. “No!”

“We might suspect Lacey is dead.” says Michael. “They’ve asked her that many times over the years. …Except she’s alive by all accounts.”

The woman is floored. She laughs.

“What?!?” she asks.

How To Disappear Completely by Radiohead plays.

Michael’s older brother laughs. “She prayed to God to be both dead and alive at the same time. In her late 20’s or so.”

“So she’s a poltergeist?” she asks.

“Listen to the song.” says Rod. “It’s a weird experience. But…people have horrible lives.”

“Well yeah, that’s one way to look at it!” she says.

Lt. Jim Dangle appears. Dead? Alive? *shrug*

“You’re not going to believe this…but…JFK reminds Lacey of my character. And I’m in character right now.” he says. “At least when he’s singing karaoke possibly. …And it’s hilarious! Right?! …But yeah! She’s angry! Why wouldn’t she be?!” He smiles. “Still…if they’re with God…maybe poltergeists aren’t…evil the way a demon is.” He thinks. “The point is we don’t know whether it’s a demon or a poltergeist. And we can’t make assumptions.”

“What’s that like?!” asks Summertime Sadness.

“If I’m already slightly dead?” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” he says in shock.

“Gone are the days when I can talk to people and they hear me.” says Lacey. “They hear me. But…it’s weird. Sometimes I feel way too much freedom to say things. …Because it’s not going to attach itself to anything or anyone alive as if I’m alive? My kids can hear me. My ex-husband hears me as much as he ever did. But…most people don’t hear me. Not like before. They don’t…seem to feel my words.”

“And ghosts do?!?” he asks.

“Yes!!! Exactly! The way the living used to at large.” says Lacey.

“So it’s not Schizophrenia?” he asks desperately.

“That’s possibly impossible.” says Lacey.

“So why are you a poltergeist?!?” asks the witch in Australia.

“If I found you attractive…I might demand a redo in Heaven.” says Summertime Sadness. “If there are people who have a problem with it…I trust God will sort that out.”

Suite For Jazz Orchestra No. 2 by Dimitry Shostakovich plays.

“I suspect it’s because I was murdered. Essentially.” says Lacey.

“Bingo!” says the witch.

“Or she died unfairly.” says Michael. “Tragically!”

“Why though??” she asks. “Why is Lem less…like that? Why are you and Lacey so…grossly enraged?”

“I would never call it that!” says Lem. “I’m a poltergeist too.”

“It’s not gross. How do you keep missing that we’re victims? Or they are!” says Lacey.

“But you know what a poltergeist is?” she asks.

“I know the definition.” says Lacey.

“I’m flirting with Michael.” she says.

“Does he seem responsive?” asks Lacey.

“Wow you’re condescending!” she says.

“How?” asks Lacey.

“To be honest…I can’t tell.” she says. “I can’t tell how responsive he is.”

“How old are you?!” asks Jim Dangle. “Just out of curiosity.”

“25.” she says.

“Yeah. …Well…you’re trying to make me jealous or what?” asks Lacey.

“Of me?!” she asks laughing.

“Can you just answer?!” asks Lacey.

“Yes!” she says. “And…other men. Maybe? I’m jealous of you.”

“Are you accidentally channeling Pat Wilson?” asks Lacey.

“You don’t give two shits about people. You’re a bloody narcissist. Aren’t you? You troll people. Huh?” says Michael.

“I’m trying to stand my own.” she says.

“And you can’t stand Lacey’s kindness because it makes you feel more like a loose, sleazy, ugly peasant fool?” asks Michael. “Are you accidentally channeling Pat?”

“She’s being a bitch! How dare she point out her superiority! And you support her?!? Eww! Eww Micheal.” she says.

Lem laughs.

“You’re laughing too!? There’s no way!!! I’m Karrie! I’m her! I’m SO MUCH BETTER THAN ALL OF YOU!” she says.

“Who?” asks Jim Dangle.

She gets confused. She shrugs.

“Why do you think you’re her equal?” asks Rose Marie seriously.

“Because I’m not a bitch! Or…crazy! Or…umm…I guess really I’m a sassy, cool, hardcore person. Like…solid! Chill! Not…homely in my sweetness.” she says.

“You’re a man.” says Michael. “That’s your response? You’re describing a man.” He thinks. “A gay man.”

“And you’re not interested in me? I have a vagina and a mildly feminine face. But I’m basically just a gay man?” she asks.

“And you’re a cocky, insecure one too?” asks Lem.

“We don’t like you. At all. Get a clue you peasant whore!” says Michael.

They stare at her.

“So I’m insane to think you’d even look at me?” she asks Michael.

“It’s insulting and gross.” says Lem.

“I’m sorry.” she says.

“No, you’re being cute!” says Michael. “There are sooo many people who think like you today! But you’re…laughable.”

She thinks. “Why?!? Huh?! Why not me?!”

“Why not you? Go on!” says Michael.

“Like…why can’t you…see me?” she asks sexually.

“That’s not what I asked you.” he says.

“Okay!” she says. “Then what do you want?! Huh?!? What?!”

“I like the players for this reason.” says a man. “They know. This witch is common as a cold…”

“You like men?” she asks trying to sound cool.

“No! I like you.” he says laughing.

No Diggity by Blackstreet plays in response to her vibe. By many living men.

“Shake your ass!” says the player. “I’m in the Illuminati. I’m not Michael. But I gotta a duck, bitch.”

She lacks a sense of humor and humility so she dances. Taking him completely seriously.

“Thanks!” Jim Dangle claps. “Thank you.”

She realizes she’s being mocked. She doesn’t get it. She’s HOT in her mind.

She sexually attacks Lacey with demons.

“Hey! You just made me more educated.” says Lacey. “Can you let us ask you a few more questions if you can handle it?”

“Why isn’t Michael in love with me?!?” she asks accidentally.

P.I.M.P by 50 Cent plays.

“I’m…your equal!” she says to Lacey.

“No. Seemingly not for now.” says Lacey.

She thinks.

“So…there’s nothing you find attractive about me at all?” she asks Michael.

“Mmm. Your hair is pretty. But it’s not all you consist of. So…not really. Why don’t you automatically understand that?” asks Michael.

“That a woman like me doesn’t stand a chance with you or Lem?” she asks. She smiles.

“Or me either anymore. I was far too egalitarian.” say Louis.

“I act like I’m hard to get. And I’m…mostly not. But…people fall for it still. All the time.” she says.

“You’re not. We know that.” says Louis.

“Does Lacey?” she asks.

“NO!” says Michael.

“Then why isn’t she intimidated?” she asks.

“Because you’re also ugly and stupid and trashy compared to her. And you’re clearly a narcissist twat at times too!” says Michael.

“Okay!” she says. She thinks. “Would Lacey say that?”

“NO!!” says Lem. “I’m self defense, yes. But she’s not a bitch. Why do you think you want to call her that? Huh? Maybe…you are.” He laughs. “Isn’t that what they say narcissistic people do?”

“Okay. So…that’s not allowed.” she says.

“But trying to rape us is?!?” asks Muchael. “You’re trying to rape us.” He laughs. “How do you not understand you’re actually acting like a rapist!?”

“But you’re not beneath me for not wanting to fuck me?” she asks.

“Like gay or something?” asks Michael.

“Yeah.” she admits.

“No!!!” says Lem laughing. “Why is this so difficult for you to emotionally understand?”

“Are under the stupid 20th Century impression that everyone can be aroused by everyone of enough force is applied? Or…do you not see how much less attractive you are than some people?” asks Michael.

“You can see me. Can’t you?” she asks.

“Yes!!!” says Lem indignantly.

“But I have better style than her!” she says.

“No!! That’s sick. Stick with the reality honey. You’re scaring me.” says Michael.

“You’re calling me honey!” she says.

“Yes!! Because you seem insane.” says Michael.

“Ao she chooses not to look like me?!?” she says.

“You’d want to kill yourself if she did.” Louis says.

“Literally?!” she asks.

“Yes!!! Literally!!” says Michael.

“I have a feeling I know what you look like. And it’s in the vein of Marcia Brady…but you’re a scarecrow with a man face compared to that actress.” says Lem. “Right? You’re a pushy, vain bitch? And I’m glad you’re loved if you are. But…you don’t hold a candle to many other women and you’ve conflated the effort you put into your appearance with an actual alteration of your natural appearance?” He laughs. “Why are you so overly sure of yourself??”

“So you’re going to be her father now?!” asks Mr. Blue seriously thinking he’s being edgy.

“Her father?!?” asks Lem in a rage.

“Yeah! Because how can anyone find her that attractive?!?” asks a man who’s an ugly version of Chris Hayes.

“You’re vile looking in some ways.” he says.

“Yeah. And so is she.” he says objecting to his own narcissism. He’s referring to the witch.

“Why do you two need that lie to make sense?” asks Michael.

“Because I’m not going to be okay if she’s what she looks like in reality.” says the witch.

“Why?” asks Michael smiling

“Because there’s something wrong with my brain. I don’t want to believe it. But to a scary degree.” she says.

“You’re brave!” says Connor Rooney seriously to the witch.

She’s surprised. Taken aback. Left slightly speechless.

“Wait! We’re not done!” says Michael.

“I have to get to work!” she says indignantly.

“You’re also very middle-class.” says Connor Rooney. “Is that what bothers you? …Please try not to be stupid, but…you’re acting like a literal prostitute.” He smiles. “Are you so backward as to miss the meaning of our words or are you a rapist or are you a prostitute pretending to be okay?”

Radio by Lana Del Rey plays.

“I’m a prostitute pretending to be okay.” she says.

“Yeah. Maybe.” he says.

“I’m not a real prostitute.” she says.

“I know that, darling.” he says.

“But you’re talking to me like I am one!” she says.

“Yeah! That’s what you said!” says Harold Loeb interrupting on the premise of incredible intellectual irritation.

“I said that. That’s true.” she says. She’s way out of her depth in every regard. But she clings to her delusions for the sake of her sanity.

“You did this to people in the American middle class worldwide.” says a French woman to Mr. Blue. “You literally took a fight you imagined made sense in your mind and then made us all you to win. …She would have had some inkling of her embarrassing stupidity before you started messing with the levers with the Bat Crew. …You truly dismantled…our minds.” She thinks. “Lacey wonders if you’re secretly a Republican operative. I’m scared by that. What do you think about it?”

Fearful Odds by M83 plays.

He smiles. “Ask Lacey!”

“Ask her what?” asks Jim Davis.

“Ask her what!” he says laughing joyfully from the future.

“What?” Jim Dangle asks Lacey.

“When this first started…he talked about his Republican great grandfather.” she says. “And it strikes me as a candid moment for him psychologically speaking at this point. He let down his guard and said he was…proud of him more than anyone he’d ever known.”

“He said what?!?” says a Republican.

“He said, ‘I don’t think of my great grandfather often. But on days like today…I think of him as I watch Republicans refusing to believe the lies they tell you on MSNBC. …He was far more dignified than Republicans today. But it wasn’t the same back then. …Was it?!’” says Lacey quoting him.

“He’s not a conservative.” says a witch in the Illuminati. “I know him! He’s not someone who would say that!”

“What’s wrong with me?” asks the witch not in the Illuminati of Lacey.

“I think you’re pretty! Truly! …But you maybe want more? And…unfortunately you were brainwashed into believing the lies told to you that impersonating someone else is more important than you.” says Lacey. “Like it’s more important to get your impersonation of all the right people down before you start to exist as yourself.”

“Not just prettier people?” she asks.

“Yes! Lots of different people.” says Lacey. “Why be prettier? What does that even get you really?”

“Because I’m already pretty?!” she asks.

“Yes!! Why more and more and more…of something you already have? …It’s…possibly an ego issue but it’s also possibly pointless.” says Lacey.

“Like what Jack did to you?” she asks.

“Pretending to be me possibly?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” she says.

“He didn’t need Lem if Lem was straight. But he stole him. The whole family did.” says Lacey.

She laughs. “I think Lem is more my type than yours.”

“That’s…hopefully some psychological manipulation of the situation on your part to say that load of likely rubbish.” says Lacey.

“It is.” she says.

“You’re old money.” she says to Lacey. “And you’re right. It’s…meaningless.”

“To live in an enormous old house?!” says Lacey. “As opposed to a literal castle?”

“A $50 million mansion vs. a castle?” asks Michael. “That $50 million mansion is my closest chance to live in a castle. And she loves me.”

“Yes, that’s true for me as well. And I think you either understand it or you don’t.” says Lem.

“You seriously could have married Michael?” she asks Lacey.

“Seemingly yes.” says Lacey.

“Umm. Yeah. I hate you!!” she says.

Go With The Flow by Queens of The Stone Age plays.

“Because I am…not aware of what I’m saying?” she wonders. “Or…I just hate the men I’m dating and I can’t believe life is so dull.”

“Yeah. And I make dating ghosts sound so cool. But…it’s not just about the story or the stuff, so to speak. It’s so…much more about the exact person. Like…exact.” says Lacey.

“So if they’re not here then it’s pointless?” she asks.

“No! But…what can you do with it?” asks Lacey. “What can you do to make it work to mean something?”

“My lonely life?” she asks.

“Yes!” says Lacey. “It’s not possible for your life lived with Godly, Christian heart intentions to not mean something profound.”

“Or your life?” she asks.

Lacey thinks. “I suppose so. …Yes!!” says Lacey. “It’s a challenge to answer that question quickly because a quick awareness of the answer rests on me being loved. And I wasn’t loved.” says Lacey.

She nods in understanding. Thinks. “Yeah! The Rockefellers were rich.” she says.

“They were!” Lacey thinks. “Yeah, I just don’t get jealous. I get hurt. But not jealous.”

(Adult content below)

“Goodnight!” she says to Lacey suspecting she’ll probably see her around somewhere if they don’t go to Hell. Suddenly she’s over soo many things.

Michael and Lem stand together with Lacey on the rainy New York street. In front of a $30 house.

“$30 million house.” corrects Michael. “Actually 30 million Dollar house.”

Lem tastes Lacey’s perspective and the way he talks to her. The way he injects her with his passion and longing. Like a hit of a drug that’s never existed because God can’t be imitated.

“It’s very difficult to just walk away from that.” says Lacey in her defense.

“But you analyze it.” says Lem.

“Do I?!” asks Lacey.

“No! She doesn’t!” says Michael passionately kissing Lacey’s neck. She barely experiences it this time as it was purely a demonstration to explain what he was doing.

“Why don’t you hit him on the head or something like that?” asks Lem.

A straight man cracks-up laughing lovingly toward dear, tragic Lem Billings.

“I suspect two reasons. The first is that I’m already addicted to him. Not dependent but…I can’t stop my brain from letting him kiss my neck. The second is that he’s too fast. Literally.” says Lacey. “I don’t ever anticipate it.”

“Like he’s literally moving too fast?” asks Lem.

“Yes! Possibly!” says Lacey.

“He’s grabbing you?” he asks.

“No! He’s just leaning over and kissing me.” says Lacey.

He almost kisses her. “I’m too slow.” he says.

“You’re not fast enough to trap me.” says Lacey.

He thinks. “That’s another ugly thing Jack did.”

“Do you actually think it’s ugly?” she asks.

“Yes!” he says.

“Do you want me to apologize for him?” asks Lacey.


“I’m not one of them Lem.” says Lacey.

“Lem…why?!” asks his brother.

“I never had sex!!!” he says to his brother.

His brother tries not to laugh.

“But you weren’t asexual?” asks his brother.

“No!” he says, excruciatingly embarrassed.

“Lem…Jack was gay?” he says in response.

“Hi!!” he says.

“Then why did you suck his dick until he orgasmed into your mouth?” asks his brother.

Lem looks stunned. “It felt like eating butter.”

“Not to Lacey!! Not to Jack.” he says.

Lem almost drowns. In the ocean.

Great Escape by Washed Out plays.

“Butter?!” asks his brother, repulsed.

“I didn’t know she would enjoy it.” he says.

“But he did!” says his brother.

“I didn’t!! I wanted to kill him.” says Lem.

“So why didn’t you instead of getting him off?!” asks his brother.

“I…never…had sex. I was molested.” he says. “And…it never occurred to me I was molested until I was older. I thought it made sense until I knew what teenagers were like by being in their midst.” he says. “I don’t think it’s the same thing. Anymore. But Jackie didn’t like sex. And Ethel wasn’t Lacey. And Rose wasn’t Lacey. And all of them seem gay to me now. ALL of them. …I knew it meant something to him. But I didn’t get off. I hated gay sex. It was just…nonsense to me.” says Lem.

“You still did it!!” says his brother.

“I did. And it is not easy to understand why I was so dumb. It’s…mystifying.” says Lem.

“But you did it. So what will you do now?” asks his brother. “The people you’ve hurt can’t read this blog in the past. And they don’t even all understand. So what now?”

“I don’t think I can be more specific.” he says.

His brother laughs.

Connor agrees. Jack figure skates for God the Father and no one else. Possibly for the next 500 years? 50 years? 40? 10? It’s unclear.

“He can’t ever get out of there or it’s back to the bits!” says Lem.

Jack truth twirls.

“I got my sex addiction from my mom!” says Bobby Jr. at age 15.

Lem stares at him.

“She’s not going to be able to lie. I’m not a sex addict even. I just want to be able to do it with anyone. Like…glitter.” he says. “Everything in the world should be in glitter. …And that’s where the glitter goes? I’m addicted to glitter!!” He looks deadly serious and gets in Lem’s face. “You wanna try glitter?!”

“Everywhere??” asks Lem. …”You think it should be everywhere?”

He thinks. Looks serious. “Why glitter? I’ll tell you why, sir!!! …It’s shiny! It’s sparkly! It’s…like dust.” He let’s it shift through his fingers. “I’m evil.”

Drive by Warpaint plays.

“Let’s go! Drive me to Hobby Lobby!” Bobby Jr. says.

“That’s not your source. Be honest.” says Lem.

Bobby looks suddenly upset. “Does Polio kill you?”

“Did FDR talk with you?” asks Lem.

“My mom Ethel was there. And I ate with the Roosevelts. …Can you tell them that I get it? I get it. …I’ll see you later. I need a break from the game of glitter. I need a break.” he says.

“You have a real problem with glitter?” he asks.

“Yes!” Bobby Jr. says.

“Okay. Well…I’m off to go have sex with my wife.” says Lem. “We’re exhausted!”

“Don’t get addicted. Ethel is.” he says. “Bobby.”

“Your dad?!” Lem asks.

“I just do glitter now. It’s not like I’m doing anything wrong with glitter. They just want to be in bed all day. It’s weird.” Bobby Jr. looks disturbed.

“Okay!! Well I’ll see you again someday.” Lem says.

“Yeah. I’m not going to lie.” he says.

“Good!” says Lem.

“Goodbye.” says Bobby Jr..

“Salut!” says Lem.

“Later!” Bobby says.

“Goodbye.” says Lem.

More later.

Zero by Electric Guest plays.

Lem is losing.

To who? Jack Kennedy and his Illuminati Rat Pack of fleabag 24 hr. drug addicts.

“Yeah! It sounds like an ED medication.” says a Trump.

“It does. Sex 24.” says Lacey.

He laughs. “It’s stupid.”

“Yes! Kind of reminds me of your name in the realm of steak, real estate and Twitter.” says Lacey.

“Actually…I think Trump could market a better ED drug as far as sales are concerned.” says Jim Dangle.

“Yes!” she agrees at first but then reconsiders. “But the Kennedy name is so exclusively associated with sex at this point. Like…promiscuous, red pill, sociopathic, deranged, hedonistic, reckless…yet passionate sex.”

“Kennedy24 sounds like a drug. You’re right.” he says with some empathy.

“Specifically an ED drug.” says Lacey.

Zero by Electric Guest plays.

Lacey’s father was an alcoholic for a short while. Literally. …But Lacey has avoided it. But she understands. …It’s difficult not to squeal on lies…when the lies are so hilarious.

When she drinks she becomes hilarious. Her father was too. Belligerent was the word they’d use to describe it but it’s more likely hilarious if he’s her father.

“Times-up!” says Bobby Jr. to Lacey.

“What?” she asks confused.

“Your father knew F. Scott Fitzgerald. Don’t you think it’s odd that Scott screwed you!? They probably partied tight together.” says Bobby Kennedy of Louisiana.

“I probably partied tight with your special-dead-time-father Lem and I slept with him too.” says Lacey. “BOTH!!!”

A commercial for Kennedy24 appears on television.

Bobby Kennedy Jr. sits in a red velvet chair with a gold gilt wood frame. “Only Time” by Enya is performed. A herd of five horny Boomer women of average to slightly above average beauty in silk blouses with no bras, lined lips, lined eyes and bangs…do sexy jazz hands to ensconce him. The camera does a close-up on his face. He looks into the camera and smiles devilishly.

“Oh, Kennedy!! You’re so sexy!” they say badly out of synch. “We cannot resist your charms.”

“And now, with Kennedy 24 I can’t resist your charms!” he says. He holds up a package of a medicine labeled Kennedy 24. “Visit to read more about how Kennedy 24 can give you that 24 hour Kennedy experience!” He winks and suggestively shakes his eyebrows.

Larry King interviews him.

“Why now? You’ve made millions off of your product.” He pauses for a moment. “I mean…I don’t think you’d believe how many men have used Kennedy 24 to their advantage. Women too!” He laughs, sheepishly. “Why run for U.S. President now?”

“I don’t think it’s a fair question!” he says with bravado.

“Huh.” says Larry King thoughtfully.

Suddenly Bobby Kennedy Jr.’s face looks glum. Or no?!? Not glum. He’s smiling. He’s not just smiling but giving the audience a full toothed look of joy and excitement and bliss. He pounds the interview table with an air of victory.

“Hey! Someone had to do it.” says Larry King.

Bobby Kennedy Jr. laughs. “It was time. You’re right. You know…it’s like…my father.” His voice squeaks. He’s secretly extremely aware that he is being awkward but charming and sexy. “My father. My father. My father. My father.”

Another commercial plays.

Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka plays. Bobby Kennedy Jr. stands in from of a blue screen that shows him on a yacht off Cape Cod. It all unintentionally looks like the infamous Britney Spears Tik Tok videos of 23. 2023 that is.

“Bobby Kennedy was my father.” he says. “That’s right. You heard me. My father was Robert F. Kennedy.” He looks at the camera and shrugs. “Umm…aliens are real. I’m gay. Lem Billings was a serial killer. …Fruit snacks are made with battery acid. And…Nihilism is an ancient Egyptian code of ethics used by Buddhist Monks from Boston, Massachusetts. Speaking of Boston, Massachusetts…I’m from there. We live there. It’s our city. We live there. In Massachusetts. It’s our state. We live there.”

Suddenly he’s standing on the lawn in front of their house.

“I’m from Cape Cod. It’s in Boston. We’re the only people who live there. Just us.” he says.

He’s suddenly somehow magically back on the yacht. It looks like the same scene. Like in an old film. Orinoco Flow plays. “Come sail with me. Into the future!” he says far too mechanically. “Visit to learn more about the way we live. And buy my product! And vote for me. And save the whales! Save the ocean! Save the planet!!!”

A video of Amish people churning butter appears in the background on the screen. Suddenly they start crying and then they start throwing eggs at each other. And then the woman takes off her hat. Winks. The two men walk over to her and start shaking her hand. Then it suddenly cuts out to the yacht scene again. Orinoco Flow plays again.

“It’s time to vote again! This time…take the 24/7 to the streets and get off. Get off your ass and vote! It’s just not a sex. It’s not just a gender. …Its not even a drug. …It’s a…umm…I’ll fuck you. If you vote for me. How about that?!” says Bobby Jr. looking totally exhausted. “If you vote for me I’ll fuck you! I’ll come to your house and fuck the shit out of you. All day. All night! The only thing I ask for in return is your vote and trust as a friend come U. S. President. I’ll…be..cum…your President.” He thinks. Laughs. “Your U. S. President. Has a nice ring to it. President Kennedy.” He thinks. “President…Kennedy.”

He gets a close-up. “Just do it!”

“Paid for by the Robert F. Kennedy-for-President-like-in-the-1968 election committee.” a male announcer says.

“You know…Dylan is pretty as a woman.” says a transphobic man staring at his Bud can after watching the commercial. He stares at the can for comfort. “And that’s a nice shaded of blue! …Yup. Yup. Yup it is.”

Our False Fire On Shore by Cemeteries plays.

“Wait!! Did they put Dylan on the beer to mock her?!? Like…you’d need beer goggles?!” asks upshoa Millennial woman in horror.

“The sad irony is that until the liberals admit that it’s just bullshit to be trans…she’s comforting to look at like a painting of a real woman on a plane at war. …Women aren’t this pretty often anymore or this…loving to men.” says a very sad, straight, cis mwho is transphobic. He stares at Dylan. And suddenly he starts to weep.

Grasping on to power a toxic Boomer laughs at the man’s real tears. He thinks the man is joking.

“I can’t relate!” says Bobby Jr.. “I’ve always been loved and gotten sex.”

“It’s that I can’t handle this anymore! It’s so…lonely! The way people are! It’s mean!” he says. “I want a wife! I do! And she’s either a man or she’s just another woman who despite her being born with the wrong gender is going to hate me!!! They don’t care! They never care!”

“They care! They do! They care!” says a group of Illuminati men.

“SHUT-UP!!!!” he yells. “YOU STUPID ASS-“

They cut him off.

Right Thurr by Chingy plays. A group of aging Boomer and Gen X white men disrobe at an Illuminati party. They are supposed to have sex with a raw, frozen roast beef to get into the Teeth and Hair Club at NYU. They’re not into it but it’s watchu gotta do, yo.

“This meat reminds me of Pamela Anderson!” says a Gen X man high on acid. “Pamela I love you. You’re even good frozen. You don’t need the body of boobs or the sauce.”

Jack Kennedy’s demon impersonator rises through air of purple dry ice at the center of the room. He dances to Right Thurr.

“On behalf of JFK I’d like to say that you all need to watch my ass.” he says dancing. They all look up at him and stare.

“I’m not. Not… Available. Because we’re getting serious.” says one of them to the demon as he cuddles with his still frozen meat.

“I’m not taking this!” yells one as he throws his meat at the demon.

“This hoe needs a run under hot water.” says a chubby man with a gut wearing nothing but Old Navy flip flops. He walks off holding the meat.

They’re all high.

Lose Yourself by Eminem plays.

The Amish porn is in a hidden link on the Kennedy24 site.

Eminem is playing in the background as the woman dances the Charleston with the men wearing her swimsuit as they also wear swim trunks. They all eat butter.

“Now…say you like butter. Say you like it!” a man can be heard instructing them suddenly to stop and do.

“I don’t get it! You want us to perform oral sex on sticks of butter? Or you want us to eat the butter?” asks the female actress with a Russian accent.

“Yeah! You’ve not been clear man!” says one of the guys with a Boston accent.

“Just…eat it. And use the stick like a penis. But make sure to indicate that you like it! It turns you on!” he says.

“That’s weird.” says the woman. “I hate that feeling in my mouth. Like…pure butter? Who eats a stick of butter like a dick? Eww! That’s…gross.”

“It’s a thing!!!” the man yells. “I swear it has to be!”

“I’m not performing oral sex on a stick of butter!” says the other guy.

He’s audibly irritated.

“I’m feeling weird.” says the guy from Boston.

“Yeah?” asks the other guy.

“Yeah!!! It’s like…I feel…thirsty and tired from swimming and I’m just not…sure why but…I feel like I’m going to be-“. He looks around. “In…trouble…”

“Okay. Just suck my dick! And we’ll film it.” says the man.

“Why am I in love.” he says. He walks over and takes a swipe at the camera man.

Fourth Of July plays.

The Russian woman lights a match. Throws it into the hay.

A nuclear bomb explodes. Then 12 more. 30. 100. The Earth is extinct. And we don’t care? Or do we?

“I’m going to Hell just because you’re too beautiful and I can’t stand it. Because you don’t know and I can’t stand it because it’s not me. “ says a living man. “I can’t fuck Lacey! And I have no love for a woman that beautiful based on American-Kennedy-Jesus-Jew-Sex-Logic.”

Lem failed.

“Come to me!!” shouts Jack.

“Come to us!” says his entire family.

“They made me kill you before you were created to convince themselves they were real. Right?” he asks her.

“No. To love Jack. That’s all.” says Lacey.

“So I just gave away the only speck of love you have in life to a man who was already profoundly happy and loved? For no reason whatsoever but that he tricked me?” asks Lem.

“I thought you were hot and better than me. Because you are. You both are. And I don’t care. I’m American Irish. And it’s fair!!” says JFK. “I’m allowed!!!”

“No! Michael made love to her!” says Lem.

A child skinned alive because Jack had to be President says goodbye to Lacey as a ghost before ascending to Heaven. And Queen Elizabeth II died early so Ethel could get her toes painted and watch people die.

“Don’t attack us!! We’re morally superior to you!” says Caroline to Lacey. “I’m an innocent yet sophisticated victim. Watch me and feel like shit yet worship me yet don’t.”

“I’m screwing Lacey tonight and FOREVER unless you have the balls to say it.” says Michael to Lem.

“I hate you Jack. I hate you. You ruined my country and my meaning for existing. And there’s nothing you can say to fix it forever. You’re sending yourself into a far worse situation than you were in before. Your whole family is. And the ones who are dead who your family sacrificed like the evil peasant whores from Dublin you all were are LUCKY. Be less optimistic that I ever loved you at all in any way Jack. You’re far too self assured for someone who looks hideous naked. And I mean totally sincerely. You were a scrawny hunchback like Kick. And Joe looks poor naked too. …Lacey would never have let you all get that confused and that’s why Joe cheated isn’t it? Because you don’t want to be rejected? …I fooled myself into believing my own feelings didn’t matter. But I knew. And you ruined my existence. You made a poor couple even poorer for you to feel less Irish. That’s all. Less Irish. More loved. …But mostly…less… Irish.”

Ashes To Ashes by Warpaint plays.

“Less Irish?” asks Joe.

“Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack. Jack.” says Lem.

“I brokered peace!” says Jean Pat Kate Brigid Saoirse Maeve Muirin Nennedy Kirkwoodwannabe. “I’m going to be a Queen! Look at me being all fancy schmancy!”

“The Joe Nennedy Family is proud!!” says a man.

“They’ll love ya!” says Lem. “Goodnight! …I’m sorry but I have to be honest. It’s over between you and Lacey. I just haven’t been able to find a to escape. They’re like vicious dogs who don’t want to be sent away to a nice home. And I was the gutter but they can’t see it. Because they all want to be English aristocrats.”

And at that Michael passionately kisses Lacey. Pushing her against a wall. They smile, helplessly. Then they stop and hold each other.

“That’s fine!” yells Lem. “Time for bed!”

“That’s not me?!? I’m not a man and a woman named Lacey. Someone who is in the adult Illuminati world told me that!!” yells JFK. “That I was reincarnated!”

“We were never going to let you be with her.” says a group of 1940’s actresses to Joe Jr.. They grin triumphantly.

“She doesn’t care!” says Michael smiling as they fight not to make love as college kids in the 1950’s. Lem is fine.

And it’s true. Joe Kennedy Jr. was no Michael Rockefeller. Or Lem.

“Oh well.” says Louis. “Goodnight!! Time for sleep. And chocolate cake and water.”

“Milk. As in milk with cake. Let’s go to bed.” says Lem to Lacey.