“What in Hell made you say that Jack Kennedy knew any damn thing about color theory? His art is repulsive. It’s hard to look at.” says Lacey to Lem. “It’s vile!”
“To me it looked good.” says Lem.
“Do you hate Jesus Christ? Or are you Satan?” asks Lacey.
He cries. “I don’t think I saw your observation.”
“Do you now?” asks Lacey.
“Yes.” he says trying not to laugh. “I didn’t hate Jesus. I’m not Satan.”
She goes silent in exasperation.
He cries.
“Lem can I talk with Lacey?” asks Michael Rockefeller.
“Considering this picture and the way your hands are on his shoulders, I think the answer for me is yes. And if you give a fuck about me it should be a no from you. But you’re dead and you have no explanation that means almost anything to me at all. Maybe you just don’t love me at all, Lem. Lem…maybe you really don’t give a fuck about me at all.” Lacey says to Lem handing him the brutal, devastating truth.
“I hate his paintings too.” says Michael Rockefeller to Lacey.
She stares at him.
“They’re awful!” he says laughing.
“I can’t make any sense of Lem.” says Lacey. “But goodness…what vile vomit on- Canvas?” says Lacey.
Michael nods laughing and unable to speak.
“Oh! I can’t bother analyzing Lem’s response right now. It’s too painful. …But what utter shit!” says Lacey.
“It’s worse than shit. My father agrees.” says Michael Rockefeller.
“Oh! What is it?!?” asks Lacey.
“It’s worse than a perfume based on Anne Curry’s farts.” says Michael.
“It makes me want to burn down buildings.” says Lacey. “Just for the sake of justice.”
“Because Lem acknowledges it on your credit?” asks Michael.
“Yes! He stole my money and gave away for this piece of shit!” says Lacey.
“It’s tragic.” says Sir Winston Churchill to Lacey.
“Why do teachers and experts in America like Lem appreciate it?! What are they seeing?!?” asks Lacey.
“They’re possibly pedophiles.” says Sir Winston Churchill. “And it’s sexual to them. John F. Kennedy could have been expressing his sexual perversion in his art. And in that case he wishes to brutally molest…seven year olds.”
“Were you a criminal sex offender?” Lacey asks Lem.
“No!” he says.
“You know…it’s also possible John F. Kennedy was just terrible at art and Lem led him to believe otherwise.” says Michael.
“I’m not going to analyze Lem right now.” says Lacey. “You know what-Why haven’t they all been burned? Does humanity have that much self restraint?”
“We need proof.” says Michael. “Possibly very sincerely.”
“Proof of what?” asks Bobby Kennedy Jr..
“His psychosis. His incredibly inflated ego.” says the dead CIA. “It’s like Hitler’s art.”
“His psychosis?” asks Nancy.
“Yes! He genuinely believed he was…far different than he was.” says the dead CIA.
“It’s not mad genius?” shouts Lem in 1962.
“No. It’s utter stupidity with lots of psychologically violent or perverse colors.” says Sir Winston Churchill. “It’s bright. But it’s also…sociopathic at best.”
“My art is less violent.” says Hitler to Lem in 1962.
“You didn’t know it was such utter rubbish?” says Lacey.
“I might not have.” says Lem.
“We’re wondering if you were blind?” asks Michael Rockefeller of Lem.
Lem is startled to find himself in Blenheim Palace.
“No. I wasn’t-“ A Lady forces him to take off his glasses and look.
“It’s good with my glasses on.” he says. He takes off his glasses. “It’s not that bad!” he says.
“Really?!” asks George Bush.
He looks again. He looks startled.
“Lem…do you really look at art?” asks George Bush.
“No. I do. Sort of. …Look. It’s probably just chicken shit. But…in a way he’s the poor boy. Not me. And he needs a leg up in the world. I’m just trying to give him my support.” says Lem in 1962.
“Lem…why are you helping him so damn much?!?” asks George Bush.
Lem looks startled.
“Look. Laura and I wonder if you mightn’t be in love.” says George Bush like a psychologist.
Lem laughs gently.
“Is that it? Are you in love?” asks George Bush.
Lem grows anxious. Swallows.
“Gee. Love is such a strong word to use.” says Lem.
“Well then, are you lovers?” asks George Bush.
Lem looks disturbed. Holds his head in his hand.
Lem sits down and shrugs.
“Well! Are you?!?” asks George Bush.
“No!” yells Lem.
“Then how do you explain what we caught you doing?!?” asks George Bush.
“Well…that’s just…you know? …Stuff…men do.” says Lem. “Often in private.”
“I don’t do that!” yells George Bush. “And you weren’t performing some ancient Egyptian ritual.”
Lem looks around the room of the Oval Office.
“Say. What is this?” he asks.
“You’re being interrogated.” says George Bush.
“Well…let’s be done. I’m getting a little sick of it.” says Lem. “Look. I’m a homosexual. Jack isn’t he just likes-“
“Likes what?” asks the FBI.
“Likes having his cock sucked. Sometimes we have anal sex but…that’s rare.” says Lem.
“Lem that’s not sex!” says George Bush.
“It’s all I have.” says Lem.
“Lem, why are you a homosexual man?” asks George Bush.
“I have no idea. I suppose I…learned about it from a priest.” says Lem.
A man sitting in the back of the room starts laughing and has to rush out of the room to keep from laughing at Lem and psychologically ruining the interrogation.
George Bush controls himself.
“Gee Lem…why don’t you ever sleep with some hot blond he brings to the bedroom?” asks George Bush.
“Because what hot blond would ever want to sleep with me?!? I’m often dirty. I’m…well…”. He shrugs.
“You’re unkempt. But you’re not ugly.” says George Bush. “Say, what ‘turns you on?’”
Lem becomes bashful. “I watch dirty pictures sometimes.”
“Of what?!” asks George Bush. George pretends to be getting aroused convincingly.
Lem almost doesn’t notice at all.
“Of, you know. The usual junk.” he says touching his neck.
“What specifically?” asks George Bush laughing.
“Well.” Lem extends his legs out. Crosses his arms. Closes his eyes. “Women. Men fucking them.” He looks guilty and leans forward.
“No men?” asks George Bush.
“No. Lots of men!” says Lem.
“When do they fuck each other?” asks George Bush.
“They don’t!” admits Lem, growing agitated.
“Do you want the men to fuck you?” asks George Bush.
“No. They’re fine. I like seeing the tits and stuff.” says Lem grinning but bashful. He closes his eyes in horror. “Are you going to kill me?”
“On behalf of whom?!?” asks George Bush getting desperate.
“JACK!” yells Lem.
“Why would he kill you?” asks George Bush sincerely and quietly.
Lem loses his gay act. Goes into shock.
Silence.
“Because he’s in love with me?” wonders Lem, absentmindedly.
“Now, why would you think that?” asks George Bush. He pours himself a drink of water.
He eyes the water and suddenly feels very thirsty. It shows on his face.
The men laugh.
“I suppose because he’s homosexual?” says Lem.
“Yeah! Think Lem. Think real hard. …When was the last time you sucked Jack’s cock?” asks George Bush.
“A month ago.” says Lem.
“Yeah. That’s right.” says George Bush who then motions for Lem to get some water.
Lem takes a drink of water.
“Say, what’s this all about?” asks Lem.
“You had anal sex with him?” asks George Bush.
“No. I hate it. I just…eat it.” says Lem.
“You eat it?!?” asks George Bush.
“It’s like a vagina but…” says Lem.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” says George Bush.
“I don’t-I” says Lem.
“You’re not a homosexual, Lem.” says George Bush.
Lem looks confused. “Well…I might not be. But…I sure am awful queer. Don’t you think?” asks Lem.
“You’re mad. You’re an insane madman. But you’re not queer. You’re not even bisexual. You’re just-“ says George Bush.
Silence.
“Say, what are you just?” asks George Bush.
Lem shakes. Starts crying. Goes pale. Can’t answer.
“You’re plain?” asks George Bush pouring himself more water.
He can’t answer.
Fifteen minutes later he says, “Sorry!” like it’s a moan.
Panicked they rush over to him. “What’s wrong, Lem?” they ask him.
He shoes them away. He stands-up and walks out. Leaves the room. Marches down the hallway and then stops himself in shock. George Bush catches up with him.
“Lem! Why are you lying?!” he says brutally.
“I’m not lying!” Lem yells in a perfectly straight, deep male voice.
It startles George Bush.
“Let’s get you to the office. Let’s talk more.” say George Bush.
And at that Lem almost falls forward and kills himself on the floor but somehow manages to keep his balance.
“I want to kill Jack!” he yells.
George tries not to laugh.
“Yeah. He has lots of enemies these days.” says George Bush.
“Why don’t they just shoot him. He’s a miserable man.” says Lem.
“He’s the President, Lemmers.” says George Bush.
And at that Lem weeps. Can barely stand-up.
“Let’s go talk!” says George Bush, calling his men over to hold Lem up. Lem has to be carried out on a stretcher to discuss matters with George Bush.
And a little over a year later JFK was assassinated.
“Where was I?!” asks JFK.
“You didn’t hear him. You didn’t notice the ambulance. You were high, having sex, or golfing? Jackie was talking and totally distracted. Possibly high herself.” says George Bush.
“No one noticed?!?” asks JFK appalled.
“No. Who would notice?” asks George Bush.
“Our servants.” says JFK.
“They weren’t there.” says George. “You didn’t have that many servants.”
Keen to Cross the Pond 
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