Dreams by Fleetwood Mac plays.

The problem is that Lacey’s childhood consists entirely of being corrected. The rest was bullshit done for reasons of social class preservation. Her great-grandparents, at least on her mother’s (who raised her) side, apparently had done well. …Or they were better in Norway than not. And the mother who raised Lacey felt obligated possibly both morally and socially to uphold the standard they set for her to follow. She loved her family? And at the very least she needed their approval.

“And that’s the problem, Casi.” says Michael. “Don’t all American southerners understand that concept? Or no?”

“Maybe it’s a unique experience.” says Lacey.

“Of the real old money Americans?” asks Michael.

“Yes! They had a sense of things in that way. As even if they don’t truly love their kids they pretend to for the kid’s psychological development.” says Lacey.

“True!” he says. “At least into adulthood.”

“But then you wonder.” says Harold.

“And sometimes they let you believe they loved you. My mother wanted and still wants me to think that. Her whole family is like that.” says Lacey. “But beyond a certain class protection level…you’re alone.”

“If Biden was honest, he’s definitely raised his kids that way. And…I bet it’s confusing to both him and his kids. Because I think he loves them…but…possibly he’s not as middle class as he portends to be.” says Michael. “And…maybe he doesn’t love them the way he’s advertised to everyone.”

“I was screwed-up too. But I understood more why.” says Elliott Roosevelt.

“Anyway, I was corrected.” says Lacey.

“In an authentically loving way?” asks Michael.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“We’re wondering if your parents were authoritarian.” asks a middle-class hater of Lacey.

“They were mean. And-“. She thinks. “Wow, you are vile aren’t you? Do you have a soul? …But no. No, you pretentious asshole.”

“You’re so genuinely concerned about humanity though?” she asks Lacey seriously.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Of course! …You just can’t win. That’s all that’s bothering you. You’re essentially heartless right now. Stop making intellectual arguments in your head to feel superior. If it seems fake then okay! But if that’s a lie be careful for the sake of your own soul.” says Harold.

“So you got corrected?” asks a perfume hater.

“Yes! I found out things that were actually wrong with my soul. Or at least that I needed to consider.” says Lacey. “My mother who raised me may have accidentally imparted real love to me in that way.”

“No, you’re not a paranoid schizophrenic. Your mom didn’t check on you once when you fell down the stairs. Right?” asks the middle-class hater.

“She called once and talked to my ex-husband on the phone who told her I was doing better. They barely talked. As that’s all. And no, she was clearly explained how bad it was. …She’s aways been like that though. She did her duty cheerfully as very convincingly. But…no. She never helps other than to send gifts for my kids and money. There’s absolutely no physical help or emotional support.” says Lacey.

“As much as I want to believe that you fat, mid, cow bitch…I don’t. Now suck my dick! I know you want to, Wanda!” says Mr. Blue in sincerity to Lacey.

“Who’s Wanda, the cow bitch, Mr. Blue?” asks Harold.

“That’s not me, Mr. Blue.” says Lacey sincerely and patiently for the 300th time. Since 2016 or 2017.

“Did you astral project to be with him?” asks a Charismatic Christian of Lacey.

“Possibly not.” says Lacey.

“Do you know how to astral project like he does?” asks the Charismatic Christian lady of Lacey.

Lacey deeply considers with deep fear of God. As per usual. She worries she accidentally does.

“If it’s not just…nonsense that only God understands fully…then no?” she wonders.

“Lacey where did you when you tried to do a Christian version of astral projection in 2016?” asks Harold Loeb.

“You’ve never studied it?” asks Summertime Sadness of Lacey.

“No!!” says Lacey to Summertime Sadness, hiding seething irritation at his incessant insults. “Of course not! You hateful toad!” She thinks. “I went to Rockefeller Center.” Lacey says to Harold Loeb.

Silence as Dreams plays.

“I know.” laughs Harold.

“Funny how Michael took you to that same spot in the last year.” says Scott to Lacey.

“On the same elevator.” says Lacey.

“Yes!” says Michael.

“The night she left Joe Jr.. Didn’t catch that?” Joe says to Mr. Blue. “Chris Hayes-wannabe…who is Wanda?!?”

“Isn’t that man’s actual name more complicated?” asks Zelda.

“Oh! He hyphenated it, didn’t he? Like Bobby might.” says Lacey.

“Yes! It’s like Shaw-Hayes or something.” says Zelda.

“That’s what I read somewhere.” says Lacey.

“Why don’t you dox Mr. Blue?” Michael asks Lacey.

“I don’t want some criminal using my blog to harm me on behalf of Mr. Blue and literal Hell.” says Lacey. “I don’t trust the public with almost anything that important anymore.”

“If your father was alive would he be living if the Illuminati exist?” asks Zelda.

“I’d like to think my father would have stopped it years ago entirely.” says Lacey.

“So you’re a literal orphan?” asks Summertime Sadness of Lacey. “Who’s upper-class adoptive parents genuinely didn’t love her. Except for in thoughtful corrections? In childhood?” He thinks. “But they pretended to?” He thinks more. “In almost seamless perfection.”

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Would I be alive?” asks Mr. Blue.

“No!! Your wife and you would be in jail and possibly have hung yourselves by now.” says Tommy Banks.

“Should we exist!” says Mr. Blue. “And not just be demons impersonating humans.”

“Anyway! Who’s Wanda?!?” asks Lacey.

“Summertime Sadness are you done impressing us with your Christian love?” asks Scott.

“No! There’s lots more bullshit on tap!” he says subconsciously.

“Are you a Christian?” Lacey asks him.

“Yeah! Believe it or not.” he says subconsciously.

“Great! Good! Keep being one.” Lacey says to him hopefully.

“Wanda is your invention! There is no Wanda! It was just you!” Mr. Blue says.

“I’m not convinced we ever united, so to speak, at all.” Lacey says. “I think it was Lem, my ex-husband, Michael and Louis and Harold.” She thinks. “Possibly just one or two of them, etc..”

“So! Who’s Wanda?!?” asks Harold.

“No! That’s nonsense.” says Mr. Blue.

Detonators by Alexander Desplat plays.

“How is it nonsense? You slept with some being, right?” Lacey asks Mr. Blue.

He scoffs smugly. He doesn’t understand why she isn’t more concerned about and impressed with his power.

“I’m not impressive to you at all am I?” he asks her sincerely.

“Honestly…no. Not at all. But I was taught to be impressed by you.” she says.

“Not at all?” he asks.

“Do you want me to laugh in your face?” asks Lacey seriously.

“So what you experienced was pure bliss back in 2016?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“No! I…felt love. There wasn’t much clear sex. And if there was…I have a feeling it was with Louis or Michael or Lem.” says Lacey.

“So it was like a cooking show?” asks Batgirl III.

“That’s a bit gratuitous even. It wasn’t…like actual sex.” says Lacey. “Not really. Truly.”

“So then what did you even do?” asks Summertime Sadness.

“Nonsense, essentially. But to a husband or boyfriend it wouldn’t be nonsense if he cared about fidelity and me in a real way.” says Lacey.

High Road by Cults plays.

“You were willing to be my mistress!” he says to Lacey vindictively.

She rolls her eyes. Rolls them again.

He senses her genuine coldness toward him and he cries. It both disturbs and confuses her.

“How many years have I rejected you?!?” she says. “Never backing down once. Six years? Seven years?” She thinks. “And you brutally rejected me. In 2016.”

“I didn’t brutally reject you!” he scoffs.

“Oh no! You certainly did.” says Lacey. “You filleted my soul and fed it to Satan. Laughed in my face for thinking you were in my league a million miles away. You treated me like a treasonous criminal of the worst sort for thinking we were the same species. You were…pathologically violent in your rejection of me. All I’ve ever done is say no, move on and hope you go away and make peace with God.”

“She doesn’t mean that!!!” screams herds of delusional Liberals. They’ve been religiously banking on Lacey being a heartbroken bunny boiler for six or more years.

A Harvey Weinstein bites his bottom lip not to tell them, “I told you so.”

“I’m not heartless. I was truly devastated. But I genuinely loved and was mistaken. My mistake! …Oh well! And then that’s truly the end.” says Lacey.

“No hope at all?” asks a British actress.

“He brutally rejected me.” says Lacey.

“She has to take that responsibility for herself and she does.” says Michael.

“It’s fine. Romantic rejection is my specialty.” says Lacey. “I move on in weeks now.”

“You wouldn’t fuck me if I was the last human for eternity?” asks Mr. Blue of Lacey.

She coldly analyzes it. “Does God love me at all?”

“So I’m a maid who gets shot?!?” asks Mr. Blue, aghast.

“For what you’ve done I’d consider killing your entire family in a fire.” says Lacey. “Including your mistresses and misters.”

“You’re heartless! I molest cats to arouse stupid, naive, horny men who can’t cognitively process what they’re actually seeing on Instagram. Okay?!? But I don’t kill lovers who reject me for ego reasons.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater. “I’m a moral, God-fearing, middle-class, American white woman.”

“I don’t either. I don’t think.” says Lacey.

“No you’re all missing the point. As usual.” says Michael.

“Then why is he getting killed in this fake scenario that’s bullshit here in…THE…UNITED…FUCKING…STATES…OF…AMERICA!!!?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater of Lacey. “We don’t roll like that okay? Bitch! …We have values! We don’t have an elite! Not an organized one! …Actually…we don’t have one! It’s impossible.” she says totally seriously.

A Million Things & One Things To Do (Instrumental) by Time Machine plays.

“There’s no elite?” asks Michael smiling.

“No. It’s fundamentally impossible! It’s against our nation’s core values! Get a clue!” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Why would this maid end-up dead?” asks a British actress calmly, possibly seriously.

“I’ll answer!” says Michael. “The idea is that she’d be dangerous.” He scoffs. “She’s a murderous, pedophilic woman with severe psychological problems who’s family is also truly criminal.” He thinks. “Why do you all keep lying about that?!”

“Part of it is the fault of Satanism.” says a Satanist explaining that they’re religiously confused in some cases. “Because we keep sensing that she’s sparing his life. So we respect that. But…then people think that’s not her innate compassion.” He laughs. “They think that’s love? I guess?” He thinks. “Or what? Unconfessed sin on her part?”

Sunday by DJ Sunday plays.

Some spiritual group somewhere then marries Lacey to Michael. God, regardless of whether this was a Christian group or not, may recognize this as a real marriage. Also he might grandfather in Lem, Louis and possibly Harold.

“I’m not sure you ever slept with her. I think it’s-it’s sad that you want that to be true.” says Mrs. Blue to Mr. Blue.

“Okay! If she’s not in love with him…then why is she still on my back watching me?” asks the They of Lacey.

“You? Nigger?” Lacey asks the white straight, male bitch who needs to take a shit real bad. “Your white, sad ass fascinates me, you cheap whore.” She thinks. They need more explanation. “Who’s it been fucking? What’s it got up it? Illegal drugs? …Interesting.”

The Loudest Perfume Hater and the white Liberals in the They are on a giant truck. It’s a green military truck driven by actual Nazis.

Dog Trot by Moondog plays.

The truck drives around Saint Paul on tour. They all stand and wave. Laughing. Grinning.

“It’s a parade! Lighten-up!” says a white, Gen X female commentator smiling widely.

Confused and terrified the onlookers on the sidewalks are left speechless.

The Loudest Perfume Hater shakes her behind in a celebratory manner.

“You get explanations but they’re not fun! So you disregard them!” sings a jazz singer in a paternal manner to the They to the tune of Dog Trot.

The truck turns the corner. Disappears.

Catgroove by Parov Stelar plays.

“We gave them genital CBD candy suckers of various colors and flavors, told them that there was no clear class system in America at all and that being rich is the only thing that matters in regard to class in America…and then gave them all French lessons. Now they’re headed for real fun.” says the dead Nazi.

“But I think they’re all confused because their parents loved them.” says Lacey in their defense.

“Yes! We’ve allowed for that. It’s enough. Enough is enough.” he says.

“So you’re mad for deep, non-egotistical, real reasons?!?” asks the They of Lacey in 2023 squinting because she’s a hot, sweet, innocent woman. A truly well-intentioned person. They can’t believe their truly misogynistic bullshit isn’t what wins in the end.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Have you ever been mad for romantic reasons?” Mr. Blue asks Lacey. “Or sexual reasons?”

She thinks. “I mean I was mad in self-defense when you attacked me through romantic violence in the beginning. But other than that, no. Not at all. Never.”

“You’ve never been trying to get even with him for rejecting you?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“You constantly attack me. You all have from the beginning. Do you want me to find the blog posts of me weeping, feeling betrayed by humanity at large thanks to all of you? …Don’t act so unaware and innocent! You’re worthless pedophilic vermin and you’d be honored in God’s great mercy to only have your gross skulls smashed-in?” says Lacey kindly. “See what you idiots can’t cognitively comprehend is that things matter. And all your mortal narcissistic bullshit is really and truly worthless. Your evil delusional state is a lie. But you choose to set your entire existence on it. And then when you die God magically let’s it go when you rejected Him, scoffed at Him and molested kids?!?” She thinks. “That’s insane!!!”

“Where were the dead real Nazis taking the dead Liberals?” asks a man.

“I don’t know. Why?” asks Lacey.

“Maybe ask more questions about Lacey’s true identity.” says a Satanist to be helpful to Mr. Blue.

“Would you have sex with me if I was the last human man in eternity?” Mr. Blue asks smiling confidently because he thinks that she’s madly in love. He’s sure of it.

“No! I’d weep for probably like…a hundred years to be unloved and celibate for eternity but then I’d be fine with it. I’d adjust. As usual.” says Lacey. “Can I kill you over and over in new ways as compensation?”

“Would you defile him?” asks an Englishman, treasonously. Hopefully he truly doesn’t know what he’s doing. That’s his best defense?

“No! That’s a lie!” says Lacey. “I personally am not like that at all.”

“So would you have sex?” asks Mr. Blue of Lacey seriously. He forgot she answered that question?

Relax by Vacations plays. Mr. Blue believes it’s about him.

She’s aghast and speechless.

“That’s a yes!!” Wobbly says mocking himself in the past in his reactions to Mr. Blue.

Lacey is overwrought.

Mr. Blue starts to look hurt. She’s afraid he’ll cry a little bit. She’s afraid his wife won’t be able to process it. She’s afraid she’ll cry.

“No, it’s not like that!” says Lacey sweetly. Then she tries to explain but is as per usual shouted over by the They.

“See! I’m sensing that she’s still in love with my head! It’s like…we’re rich and she’s after our money! As I’m such a Beth Gallagher.” says Mrs. Blue seriously.

“We shouldn’t have made that film.” says a actress apologetically to Mrs. Blue.

“I can’t help it! I cannot help it! I…crave sex.” says Mr. Blue.

“And we’ve got a knife to your throat to be just like us or we’ll torture you to death, literally?” asks a Boomer actor of Lacey.

“Oh!!!! My whole life!!! …You’re a HORRIFICALLY violent generation toward the past.” says Lacey to the Boomer actor.

“And this is when Lacey tries to tip toe away. Very quietly.” says Michael.

“It never works.” says Lacey.

“But he always says I remind him of Beth Gallagher!” says Mrs. Blue to the Illuminati.

“Why are you killing me repeatedly!” asks Mr. Blue of Lacey.

A They witch suggests she’s being held hostage by the Illuminati and should just put out like a sex slave to Lacey.

“Just let him rape you or we’ll molest a kid! Get I’ve it! You’re not a billionaire!” says the They witch to Lacey.

“Then I’m taking my oil!” says Lacey following through on a threat she’s made repeatedly and seriously.

“Big deal! You stupid bitch!!! You fucking ugly piece of shit!!” says Mr. Blue. He’s being completely serious.

“I HATE YOUR VILE, DISGUSTING BODY!!” says Lacey to Mr. Blue. “You have a face like a literal worm!! And a huge, misshapen body! And you’re DUMB!!” She calms herself. “I’d kill you repeatedly because you’re too dumb to have been born but you were anyway. And that’s where I wonder if God might ask for you back. I’m not God.”

“I hate you! You’re so smug! And I’ve encouraged Mrs. Blue to believe she’s Beth Gallagher because I keep thinking you’re in love with him. But…maybe you aren’t like my character at all. At all.” says a Glenn Close.

“I’ve told you that what? Ten times? Literally.” says Lacey. “So that comforts Mrs. Blue?” asks Lacey.

“No! I can’t get in your head. I could never play you on screen.” says a Glenn Close to Lacey.

“True! You’re not someone I would ever imagine playing me.” says Lacey. “You HATE me and it’s for narcissistic reasons, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, maybe.” she admits.

“So…you don’t want to kiss my ass? At all. You think I’m crazy for living my life?” asks Glenn Close.

“The badass-Boomer thing? Umm…I don’t know you, dear.” says Lacey. “What in the world were you folks even up to?” she asks seriously.

“I feel like we lost any common sense from these people when he refused to answer who Wanda is.” says a Gen Z witch to Lacey.

“Is he afraid his wife might be jealous of Wanda?” almost laughing, Lacey asks the Gen Z witch.

A Glenn Close watches Lacey laughing while imagining Mr. Blue trying to channel Wanda in a bedroom and Mrs. Blue walking in and wondering why things feel…weird.

“Why are the sheets all messed-up?!?” she asks Mr. Blue. Mrs. Blue’s tone is prim, but genuinely upset.

“Oh! It’s nothing! I’m just trying a new yoga pose.” he says sounding chill.

“Ok!” she says smiling seductively. Her beauty on full display. “Let’s try it out later!”

“Yeah! That’d be great!” says Mr. Blue softly, tenderly but also slightly patronizingly.

She’s totally oblivious to the condescension but she takes the love completely for granted.

“Say! That’s great that you’re doing yoga!” she says squeezing his arms seductively.

He grins flirtatiously. It’s quietly understood that they’ll have sex later.

But one does wonder who…is…Wanda?

“Who do you think Wanda was?” asks a wizard of Lacey.

“A prostitute. She reminds me of Jamie Lee Curtis?” wonders Lacey. “Maybe she doesn’t exist. That’s too silly.”

“Fake name?” asks the wizard.

“Possibly.” says Lacey.

But then the conversation falls apart when he seemingly genuinely thinks she’s trailer trash and accidentally throws that into the conversation. He thinks all Midwesterners are trailer trash.

“Oh the oil!” thinks Lacey.

“You don’t control the oil, silly rabbit!” says Mr. Blue to Lacey trying to sound like a sexy…dominant male.

After Dark by Mr.Kitty plays.

“I did!” says Mark Nesheim. He’s dead…

“Nevertheless…I’m in charge now as an English aristocrat in honorary reality or reincarnated.” says Lacey. “And it’s secretly ALL my oil.”

“And you’re taking it?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“Yup! It’s fenagled.” says Lacey. “Fenagled-swagslid…”. She thinks. “Icy-dumpling-core dropped.” She thinks. “Lemony-snicket…River rock…lemon.”

“Okay?!? Big deal!” says Mrs. Blue seriously.

“I don’t think she loves me.” Mr. Blue says to Mrs. Blue.

“Oh you all think you’re soo sneaky.” says Lacey. “And really, at the end of the day…it’s just sad. That’s what the mother who raised taught me. That…our ego doesn’t matter at all when it comes to our sin. You can just kill it. It’s totally unnecessary. And killing it comes in handy because you can think more clearly that way. You can survive more easily and hopefully avoid Hell of God is gracious. But you have to be careful to not be false about it and you have to keep doing it your whole life. And you have to be careful, especially as an abused child, to not be genuinely mean to yourself. It’s not helpful to be mean. You have to be sincere and be brutally and genuinely honest with yourself. …A narcissist might struggle to be that truly sad for more than five seconds? Because I get the sense that for them it’s difficult to be that real with themselves for reasons of deep sadness the moment they choose to engage with their actual reality.”

“We’re hoping you were a narcissist?” someone asks of Lacey.

“No! That’s unlikely.” says Lacey.

“Did you ever love me?” Mr. Blue asks Lacey.

“Not the real you. I find that highly unlikely.” says Lacey. “The man I thought you were was wonderful. But…you aren’t him.”

September Song by Agnes Obel plays.

“The thing is…he wasn’t the most handsome man in the world. But he was extremely humble about what he did have as far as looks. And he was…clever and brave and very just. Very humble though. His amazing humility was his greatest strength and in a way it was his weakness, I thought. Because he-“. She thinks. “He loved his wife at first. But…maybe…something about his personality didn’t suit her? Or who knows? It was a dark spot intellectually where I hoped to gain insight over time. But…essentially he was in a dead, sad marriage it seemed. And yet they were charging through graciously for the public. …And…I admired that. But…I thought if he was noticing me it was time he was loved deeply for who he truly was. And I was just floored that it might be me. I was over the moon with shock at my good fortune.”

A Glenn Close laughs. Lacey both hopes and assumes she’s laughing at her.

“What’s so funny?” asks Lacey sincerely.

“You thought he loved you!” she says scornfully.

Lacey looks confused. Tries not to laugh. “Did I really though?”

“You think he’s vermin?” she asks.

“Are you acting?” asks Lacey sincerely.

“He’s better than the men like that!!” she says on his behalf, as if he’s controlling her strings.

“How so?” asks Lacey. “And of course the point is that he genuinely wasn’t who I was in love with.”

“Because he’s tough!!” she says.

“Wow!!! That’s…AMAZING!! Tell me more!” says Lacey sarcastically.

“He’s the coolest guy I know!” she says.

Road To Chicago by Thomas Newman plays.

“Oh! It’s Tony Soprano leading The Syndicate! The Irish Mob! During the 1920’s! Driving on his way to Chicago to save his son.” says Lacey sarcastically. “Anyway…WOW!!!”

“Mr. Blue is…hot-tempered, aristocratic, arrogant-as-fuck-“ says a Glenn.

“Oh yummy! Hot, hot, HOT!!!” says Lacey sarcastically.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.” she says to Lacey.

“I’m not doing anything to you. Or wait! No! That’s Mr. Blue?” asks Lacey.

She smiles.

“What am I doing to you?? Breaking your heart?” asks Lacey seriously but also sarcastically.

“Yes!!!” yells Mr. Blue.

Lacey yawns. Nods her head in understanding. Slightly smiles pleasantly in comprehension.

After a moment.

Another moment?

“Oh! Right! I’m supposed to respond. Sorry.” says Lacey. “Umm. No, I don’t even like you as a person. I wouldn’t hate you. But…I would avoid you completely. You totally disinterest me.” she says truthfully but bluntly. “Well…that’s not true in so far as I wish you to repent and go to Heaven but also you’re a fascinating villain.”

“No! I see the fascinating villain thing.” he says, possibly seriously.

She hopes he moves on this time.

“We were almost completely convinced you were a very sophisticated bunny boiler.” says the They to Lacey. Possibly seriously.

“I brutally psychologically attacked you. And that’s all you’re mad about from the beginning?” Mr. Blue asks Lacey.

“It’s not perfect enough huh? You need a perfect annihilation? There’s precious little real attraction or even mild interest in you as a person. At all. You’re a fake. And for all I know you channel Michael’s identity in the public everyday everywhere to be seen as him. It’s not my fault I didn’t know. Think!!!” says Lacey.

The They attacks a child in hostage in response to being warned that they’re possibly heading to Hell for eternity.

“I WANT IT ON RECORD THAT MY LIFE IS TOTALLY RUINED UNLESS I AM MICHAEL ROCKEFELLER, SON TO THE LATE NELSON ROCKEFELLER, REINCARNATED. …AND ONLY JESUS CHRIST CAN SAVE OR HELP ME. …OF COURSE IF I ALMOST MANIFEST THE ACTUAL ANTI-CHRIST TO WIN AN ARGUMENT WITH A WOMAN BECAUSE I’M NOT SURE I’M EVEN HUMAN AND I REJECT SALVATION…DON’T ASSUME MY CONTINUING SUCCESS ON EARTH ISN’T A WAY TO FOOL ME AND OTHERS ON MY WAY TO ETERNAL…Hell. Or…Hellz!” Mr. Blue (God knows his actual name) giggles. “I THINK IT’S HELLZ. Like…Hellz. Because it’s cute and cuddly and lovable like a bear. A big, warm, cozy, inviting, big-hug Grizzly Bear. Yay!! …Wild bears. That do crack!! And…that’s nature.” He gets pissed-off at all living Grizzly Bears. “They’re all going extinct! Chill crew! We’ll win! We’ve got success on our side! Not a loser life of dying bears!” It’s not his humor but Lacey’s. But he, in his spirit stands tall and yells, “FUCK YOU!!! FUCK YOU!!! YOU STUPID COW!!!” at all (real, actual) Grizzly Bears. “YOU MORONIC, USELESS BITCHES!!! WE SHIT ON YOU!! WE SHIT ON YOUR GRAVES! I will personally take you all down! You gonna know me! You gonna know me, you posers!!!” He laughs. “I’M GONNA GET YOU! YOU POSERS! TRY LIVING IN NEW YORK! TRY GETTING OVER A COCAINE ADDICTION! …I’VE DONE IT!!! You try. You try being humble and understanding and not too chill but chill enough to make people like you. It’s AWFUL!” He thinks. “I’M GOING TO GIVE YOU A CHANCE TO REDEEM YOURSELVES IN MY EYES. …THEN…”. He clears his throat. Thinks. “I DEMAND AN APOLOGY FOR YOUR MISERABLE…FUCKED-UP…DESIRE TO EXIST!!!!!!!!!”

Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka is blasted into the universe by the 21st Century Illuminati to explain Mr. Blue’s supremacy. To demand, under the auspices of their power alone, that it be recognized. Worshipped. Possibly rivaling Satan the Illuminati suspects? Possibly still fearing Christ? …But it’s directed especially at Grizzly Bears. Literally. Not on behalf of humanity nor Earth nor the galaxy or God or anything else but solely on behalf of Mr. Blue. Just him. To the universe. But especially Grizzly Bears. And…it has to be held to the standard of the Cross of Christ because that’s the name they’re potentially plagiarizing to the literal universe.

More later.

“I just realized once more, but with fresh eyes, one horrible miscommunication. …I suspect that people on a certain level purposely misread my posts years ago in the perfume community…but regardless, I think people…thought I was arguing that those of a lower class than me were less valuable as people. …I NEVER thought that of them based on social class. Truly! I didn’t think of people that way. And if I’m tempted to now it’s partially because of being falsely accused of thinking that way. …The thing is…people are inherently of value in the eyes of God. I repeat: People are inherently valuable in the eyes of Jesus. …Should I repeat it again?” says Lacey. “If I thought less of someone it was because, unfortunately, they seemed vile in some meaningful way.”

“True! And by the way: Lacey is a 10. Everywhere. Whether it’s what’s happening now or not…she’s objectively a 10.” says Michael. “And actually, it is likely she thought Mr. Blue was essentially me. Or Lem. Or Elliott? Or Harold Loeb. …Or Louis.” He thinks. “He also reminded her of F. Scott Fitzgerald. And she’s said that since the beginning so many times. But you all ignored that and if you didn’t you made it something it wasn’t.” he says to the Illuminati. “Mrs. Blue…how in the world are you like Beth Gallagher?!? Not every person who’s spouse has an affair is like Beth Gallagher from Fatal Attraction! That’s moronic! …Truly!”

“Was she ever really attracted to who he really is at all or, since they never met in person, was it just the act he plays in public?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“It’s stupid to fall in love with celebrities!” she says. “That being said…she was thinking she was reading his actual body language and he’s not someone that famous.” says Mrs. Blue. “I think she was! Yes.”

“He’s supposed to be somewhat distant and professional. But he’s not supposed to be a total fraud. People like him are a dime a dozen. Or they should be. Why would the company that hired him find someone totally different than who he’s pretending to be?!? …If they weren’t able to find someone like me his age…that’s troubling. Why? And why did they need him to be like me? Why does the public need me to be alive and around Lacey’s age? Or Louis? Why does that make them buy stuff and feel better? …So after saying all that I highly doubt she ever was actually attracted to him without him acting like me. …Lacey found him physically attractive but only in context of who she thought he was as a soul and spirit. …She finds me objectively attractive somewhat. Lem still is attractive. She just thinks he’s that attractive… But other men are more conditional.” He thinks. “She has no clue to this day why Mrs. Blue was so upset about the situation given the circumstances and Lacey’s lack of genuine interest and desire to avoid him completely fairly quickly. …The thing is…other women could be more who you only thought she was. He’s not a totally unattractive man. And he is famous. And some people are that materialistic.”

“I think you cruelly misinterpreted my profound real, rational sadness as me being a bunny boiler. Or my righteous rage about actual evil. Rage in 2016. For…a month or two. …But then I slowly started to realize he wasn’t Michael necessarily, per se, and I got angry for other reasons. …Namely at his intellectual conceit and arrogance. And of course in self-defense from almost the very start. Because I felt very misunderstood pretty quickly.” says Lacey. “I mean he just blindly bulldozes his way through things like a speeding train gone amok. …Never stopping to truly examine the discrepancies between reality and his imagined narrative in a real, meaningful, healthy way. Just narcissistically.”

“Why were you angry at him?” asks an aging billionaire. Although he grossly wishes to be called a capitalist because he’s blind as a bat emotionally when it comes to Lacey. Or because he’s a Roman emperor who literally helped destroy the Roman Empire. And if it’s both they’re speaking in tandem like a mashup not through reincarnation. “You’re so arrogant! You’re obviously in love with him! And I can tell!”

“Stop forcing that vile bullshit on me you bitch!” says Lacey losing her temper. “Sorry, I apologize for cursing you.”

“I think you broke his heart!” he responds to Lacey tentatively.

“He hates me. Right?” asks Lacey. “That’s been expressed to me endlessly since 2016.”

He pretends to be scared, but Lacey wonders if he’s serious.

“What? I seem like a bunny boiler now for having more righteous anger, maturity and depth than you?” asks Lacey testing him.

“No! I’m not that angry.” he says.


“You’re not aroused by me nor Mr. Blue. Are you?” he asks. “But I can sense psychically that you’re aroused by someone. Who?”

“Michael. Lem. Louis.” says Lacey.

“Okay! That’s likely.” he says. “Very much those men. Everyone else is just an understudy. And that’s an understatement.”


“Your sweetness repulses me.” he says.

“It doesn’t repulse me!” says Louis Hill Jr.

“If she’s that nice then I’m a bitch!” he says.

“Don’t beat yourself up! Please! If you actually care.” says Lacey. “I know men like you get very angry at themselves when they mess-up that much.” She clears her throat. “But you’re not someone to lose if you’re actually a man of real conscience.”

He hopefully goes off peacefully and correctly to bed to sleep well.

“Maybe you really were fooled? Huh? Is there an entity who you thought was me?” Lacey asks Mr. Blue. “I’m not a pedophilic, materialistic person. Nor am I am hopefully demonic. …Maybe reassess what happened.”

“She’s going to bed now! Goodnight!” says Lem. “With me! Just me!”