“We make popular movies about sex with animals. Sex with cars. Sex with parents. Sex with houses! Sex with shirts. …Sex with trees. Sex with refrigerators. Sex with counties, countries and regions. Sex with words. Sex with numbers. Sex with windows. Sex with handbags… You name it. We have a movie about sex with it.” say the French. “Or we cheer it on with our grandeur at the Cann Film Festival!”
“Oh wow!” says Selma. “I might not be a pedophile. Or really want to have sex with cars. …But…I like the thought of having sex with cars as the comedienne suggests.”
Later.
“Is Lacey a pedophile?” asks Ruth Beaver of the Illuminati.
“No.” says Selma Hayek.
“Okay. I’m not sold on the idea that she’s gay. But I was on an ego high.” says Ruth Beaver.
Concerto in G Minor for Violin and Strings, BWV 1056R: II. by Vivaldi plays to welcome the granddaughter of a Von Lengerke.
“She doesn’t really seem homosexual.” says Allyson thoughtfully about Lacey.
“So you played with Rachel Belter in childhood and Allyson was your friend in college.” says the comedienne to Lacey.
“I did care!” says Allyson. “We maybe weren’t as close as I’ve said. But…I think we were friends.”
“Rachel used to wear clothes we’d buy at Dayton’s. And then Lacey would wear them used.” says John Belter.
“Yes! It was humiliating. Now Lacey is far wealthier than Rachel, but that’s fine.” says Jim smugly.
“Why did you do that?!” yells Ray Craft.
Jim acts like he’s crying inside. “I’m bad at math!” he says.
“You are. But you’re also not at the same time.” says Ray.
“But that’s the truth!” yells Jim.
“I’m not saying it isn’t.” says Ray.
“Let’s talk more about this! This is exciting.” says Mr. Diego Blue.
“So she thought she was talking to Chris Hayes, but you do the grunt work for him?” asks a perfume hater.
“Oui!” says Diego Blue.
“And you’re in on telepathy?” asks the perfume hater.
“Si senior!” says Diego Blue.
“So you…actually have Illuminati privileges?” says the perfume hater.
“Oui!” he says.
“Oh wow!” says Selma. “Have we fucked?”
“Yes! Many times!” says Mr. Diego Blue.
“Huh. I don’t recall you at the last few group meetings in Hawaii.” says Selma Hayek.
“I was there!” says Diego Blue.
“You look like Chris Hayes?” says Selma Hayek.
“I’m his twin. Except I’m from Mexico.” says Diego Blue.
“Huh. Next time we have ritual sex…give me a shove in the arm so I can know you’re real. You amaze me.” says Selma Hayek.
“Why?!” asks Diego Blue.
“Because you look so much like him! But you’re Spanish?” says Selma Hayek.
“Oui!” he says.
“Man!” says Selma.
“Yeah. I have dark rings around my eyes too. And blue eyes. I’m maybe…a little darker. But not much. They find ways to make it work.” says Diego Blue.
“Wow!” says Selma.
“Is Lacey gay?” asks Dr. Lauermann.
“No. Not at all.” says Lem.
“I’m Hannah. I’m Erin Gloria Ryan’s body double.” says Batgirl III.
“I’m Stephanie.” says Batgirl I. “I’m Kate Shaw-Hayes’s body double.”
“What the heck?!” says Casi. “Nah. This is bullshit. They’re not real. This is being done for legal purposes.”
“Who’s not real?” asks Lem.
“The body doubles.” says Casi.
“So you think there are no body doubles and that Mr. Blue is Chris Hayes?” asks Lem.
“Oh no! Be careful of those pesky lying spirits!” jokes Emanuel Swedenborg.
“Yes!! Duh!” says Casi.
“Okay. So…you think I never fucked Selma Hayek?” says Diego Blue.
Stanley Kubrick laughs?
“I mean…if you exist you probably did.” says Casi.
“Yeah. I did.” he says, proudly.
Hush by Maria plays.
And at that Selma Hayek shakes her boobs in a skin tight bodycon dress. She stands in front of a villa in France. A Lamborghini and a Bugatti and a Hino and a Giambutino and a Weasley are parked in front of the villa. She stands in Louboutins. The villa is stucco. It has trees from southern France in front of it.
She backs up dancing. It’s hard to shuffle backwards in Louboutins, but she does it well.
Then she gets tired. Takes off her shoes. Walks off.
Ten “old money” vibe women appear. They’re certified “old money” in their skirts by Ralph Lauren, cashmere polo shirts by Ralph Lauren and Loro Piana shoes. Their long, soft, flowing hair bounces in the breeze. They have bangs!
Then they sit on the hood of the expensive cars.
A helicopter flies overhead.
The stars of Succession are dropped out of the helicopters they are wearing Tom Ford and Kismet by Yooyoo Funcinittettetibi Dudabbi Giuno Lolo Hoho Roro Bobo Momo.
They walk around. Have their photos taken. With lots of flashing lights. Everyone is wearing Juicy Tubes lipgloss.
Then the helicopters throw Cartier Tanks, Gucci Dionysus bags, Goyards, Chanel tweed, Chanel ballet flats, Chanel flap bags, and Birkins out of the helicopters in mass quantities. Hundreds.
Range Rovers arrive and dump dozens of boxes of bottles of Moët and Chandon out of their windows.
Drug cartels arrive and dump thousands of needles with various substances on the ground.
The women dressed in cashmere jump on the hoods of cars.
Sewage companies arrive in huge fighter planes and dump poop on people’s heads.
But in cashmere, being “certified old money”, the women dance.
The song plays on.
Fourteen Bugattis drive up. All cherry red.
Young men with floppy, thick curly hair all get out of the cars. They’re wearing white linen shirts. Cashmere sweaters tied on their shoulders. J. Crew shorts from 2005. Boat shoes. They get out the cars with a strut. Then they walk around. Walk around the women jumping on the hoods of the cars…and then walk back into the cherry colored Bugattis. Drive off at different speeds.
China drops off huge quantities of uncooked rice on the women dancing on the hoods of the expensive cars. They keep dancing.
Then they done.
The Way We Get By by Spoon plays.
“That’s sex with cars!” says the comedienne.
“Who had the sex?” asks Jim Craft.
“Just the young women.” says the comedienne.
“The big question is: How?!” asks Selma Hayek.
“With their feet!” says the comedienne. “And when they sat on the car.”
“Because it was their asses?” asks Selma Hayek.
“Yes!” says the comedienne. “And…”. She gestures with her hand to try to find the words to describe the concept. “It’s like…the vibe is sexual. They’re like…in a relationship with the cars.”
“Because the men never are interested?” asks Ethel.
“No. They are meaningless!” says the comedienne. “Except…they’re also all already happily married too! Everyone knows that.”
“And the men are all gay?” says Diego Blue, with a smirk.
“Yes! Of course. But they’re also suicidal. And straight. And they have medical issues.” says the comedienne.
On an estate. On the gravel road outside the exit from the main house.
“I’m going to kill myself!” shouts a “certified old money” guy at the comedienne.
Her eyes get wide. She goes into shock.
“What?!” she says lovingly.
Paris by Else plays.
“Just kidding.” he says with a huge grin.
“What?! No!!” she says desperately, losing control of her face and body.
“Bye!” he says as he walks off randomly
“Okay!! Don’t kill yourself!” she screams.
“Huh?!” he yells turning around awkwardly.
The song shifts to Cover Bombs by Nomadic Furs.
“Yeah!” she yells after him.
“Momo?” he yells.
The song shifts to Bloom by ODESZA.
“Huh??” she yells.
“I love you!” he yells.
“Huh?!?” she yells.
“I LOVE YOU!!” he yells.
“Okay.” she says smiling. “Weird.” she whispers to herself. “Love you too!” she yells in a corny manner.
“Are you okay?” Lacey yells at the 46 year old man.
“FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING BITCH FROM HELL! Go TO FUCKING HELL! GO TO HELL, YOU DAMMED PIECE OF SHIT!” he yells violently at Lacey like he’s a black rioter in the George Floyd protests. He waves his hands in the air.
Night Thoughts by Else plays.
Jumping up and down as if he’s getting pumped up, “Boom!” he yells. “I’m going to fuck you up!”
Lacey looks confused. Almost ready to laugh.
“You misogynistic dirtbag! …You think fighting in World War II or Vietnam makes you a man. It doesn’t! …It really doesn’t. No. Sir…don’t have any balls!” he yells at Lacey.
“I support you.” the comedienne says in her head to her boyfriend who’s “certifiably old money.”
“You are a man who cheats. You inject steroids! You do! I know! I can tell! And I bet you cheat on your income taxes! And…you’re clearly a land owning evil colonizer! YOU OWN MANY BLACK SLAVES!” he yells at Lacey.
Lacey looks at the Caitlin-the-Comedienne. Lacey would imagine that her politics would mean she’s likely a feminist. But it seems she isn’t one at all or…she’s…pure evil?
“Lacey wouldn’t have owned the black slaves.” explains Lem. “The man would have.”
“Why are you lashing out at dead men?” asks a Muslim man.
The white “certifiably old money” man jumps up and down.
“Okay. You’re an upper middle class, white man.” says Casi.
“Indians!” says Christopher Columbus. “Weren’t. Indians. America traditionally struggles with assigning appropriate labels.”
“A Nation of Immigrants. While England Slept?” says Lacey. “Terrible titles. The New Deal? No.”
The Nation of Islam escorts the “certified old money man” away. He looks baffled. You can doubt them. You can be suspicious because they’re Muslim. But…they’re in the right here by escorting him away.
“Twilight of the Elite?” says Lacey. “All terrible titles.”
“Do you care more about the topic than I do?” asks Chris Hayes.
“Maybe.” says Lacey. “A Colony in a Nation?!”
“That’s my favorite.” says Chris Hayes.
“I hate your pseudo-intellectual work. Sorry.” says Lacey.
“I helped write it!” says Diego Blue.
“Which parts?” asks Lem.
“The part about the people who are black.” says Diego Blue.
“Oh! That part?” says Krystal.
“Yeah! It’s about a colony of da black peoples…who…are a colony. See? Si?” he says.
“Within a nation?” asks Lem.
“Yes!” says Diego.
“Where?” asks Lem.
“The United States of America.” says Diego.
Keen to Cross the Pond 