Jackie Kennedy (I)

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac plays.

The song plays.

And plays.

Swing it, partner. Them dang oil wells are the hot! …And Dynasty is playing in our consciousness. It ain’t groovy nomore. Its…elegant. Heehaw.

She got TEETH! Shoot.

And that nose. Is a bird? No. Literally. Is she a bird? With those eyes on that face. One wonders. And I’m not entirely sure her mouth is human.

But she smells of Joy by Jean Patou.

She got on sumpin’ purty.

Real nice.

“Jackie. One question though. Do you shave your face?” asks Lacey.

“No.” she says softly.

“Huh. Then how did you shape your eyebrows girl? You got pieces missing.” says Lacey.

“That’s a sparse eyebrow.” says Lacey.

“I…am speechless.” says Jackie, indignantly.

“Oh shut-up! You’re a worthless greedy cow.” says Lacey primly.

“Grinding. It’s not just a dance. It’s a way of calculating your next move.” says Lacey. “Did you find a way to grind your front teeth behind your bottom teeth? Because it looks like you sat around doing that when you thought through things.” *image in our heads of Jackie grinding her teeth that way like an evil peasant hick*

A dead peasant cracks-up laughing.

OMG by Usher plays.

“She was dancing sexy!” says Lacey. “Honey got a booty like pow pow! So he want it all.” she watches Jackie trying to dance sleezy for JFK. “Oh my gosh! Oh! Oh! Oh!”

“She like dynamite!” says an angel from Heaven.

“DAMN!!” says Lacey.

“Hot damn!” says a demon.

“Yup. She got moves!” says Lacey. “Wow!!!”

“Oh my gosh!” says Lem.

“Did he love you down?” asks Lacey of Jackie.

“Oh my gosh!” says a demon.

“Jackie. Honey. Shawty…did Jack Kennedy love ya down?” says Lacey.

“Lovin’ your style!” says a gay man waving at Jackie from a few feet away.

“Actually…she does have an amazing style. True. Arguably perfect…in a sense.” says Lacey.

The Boat by Hania Rani plays.