“?”

Turns out the Illuminati stole Lem’s sexual energy using Bobby. And literally spread it to homeless opiate addicts. To get them laid. It only works for men. Straight men. But they’ve literally been using it. To trick other straight female homeless women.

“Yeah. I studied him.” says Bobby Kennedy Junior eating a gobstopper. He flings the candy between his front teeth. He shrugs. “I mean…I know that’s him…but…WHO CARES!?” says Bobby laughing. He grins.

“Ahh…we care?” says Russia. “I’d love to get laid. By Lacey. But…I can’t. So…”

Bobby Kennedy Junior laughs. “Man!” he says.

“What’s so funny Bobby?” says Israel.

“Oh my god! You can’t be taking this seriously.” he says, desperately.

“Bobby…we’re at war…man.” says Israel.

“Ahh…okay. That’s so obviously your fault!” says Bobby, seriously.

“Completely!?” says Iran.

Bobby shrugs. “See…I don’t really know.

If I was elected US President I might be more able to assist you. But…as it stands…I’m…on vacation. I care. Don’t get me wrong. …But…” says Bobby.

“So you’re an ignorant, spoiled…selfish…obnoxious prick.” a reader says to Bobby Kennedy Junior.

“I resent that!!” he says, mimicking his family Boston-Rich-Bad-Boy act.

“Yeah. You have no idea what’s going on.” a kind gay man says to Bobby.

“Whatever dude!” says Bobby in a prissy slightly homosexual/homophobic manner.

“So you ran for president!” says a woman to Bobby.

He chuckles in a cocky overly-self-assured manner. He does that sort of manner often.

“I wanted to vote for you!” says another woman in a pouty voice.

He suddenly looks serious. Grim almost. He stares down. Takes a deep breath. “It’s sad. It really is. …This country…is…on the brink of complete destruction.”

“Yeah. I so wanted to vote for you!!” she says.

He takes a deep breath. Raises his head high. Stares off into the ether. “I’m sorry I can’t help you.” he says finally, indignantly.

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE AMERICAN ROYAL FAMILY!!!” mockingly screams Lacey, in Scottish, and if there’s reincarnation she has the blood of an enemy streaming down her face. Although yes, she does still look quite lovely, actually.

“I bet that’s the blood of an Irishman!” says a cocky middle class white man.

“No. Not at all.” says Lacey, primly.

“Sorry they hate you, obviously. But I doubt that she’s making that up. It’s probably not an Irishman. Who is it? Who did you actually kill by biting them or something? I don’t even know what you did, but who was that?” says another middle class man.

“He seems dark.

He might’ve been more French, like a Gall or something or maybe a Slavic person, but they seem more dark – they don’t look that different than Greeks, some dark Greeks? Whoever this person was. But I think he’s pretty dark.” says Lacey.

“And where would you put them in the Slavic nations?” says the man.

“Possibly- Oh I don’t know but that’s not entirely Slavic. Maybe Armenian? Umm…somewhere…somewhere a little further south? See the problem is that this is a long long time ago…so he might actually be slightly French as well and slightly Greek…and possibly, to be blunt, closer to cave people. He was not necessarily pure evil…but he was going after my body. He was trying to ‘give me a hug’ to sort of rape me and kill me and so I bit his head as I stabbed him…in self-defense. I bit his head and stabbed him, and then just kept stabbing him…and he died.” says Lacey.

“Why did you have a knife!?! …Were you evil?” yells a herd of white middle class Americans, mostly men.

“I was in battle. That was in battle!” says Lacey.

“You don’t battle! You’re a housewife!” the herd of white middle class Americans yells.

“But this was when I was Scotia. If there’s reincarnation, I’m Scotia.” says Lacey, kindly.

“I don’t believe in any of that stuff! Gawl you’re an idiot!” they say to Lacey.

“Well that’s not true…but the premise darling was that reincarnation was possible and you might not think that it’s possible…but the premise is that it’s possible. It’s a premise, you don’t have to think that it’s real.” she says.

“Oh premise smemess, you’re just a bimbo idiot bitch!” they say to Lacey.

“Except I’m not.” says Lacey.

“Except I’m not!” they say mockingly.

“Do you wanna fuck me?“ asks Lacey.

“Yes, obviously!! Which why you’re a fucking idiot!” they say.

“What did you do to indicate that?” she says.

They think. They take a deep breath. Think. “We told you so!!!” they say.

“WHEN!?” says Lacey.

“All the fucking time!” they yell.

“To be hones, I don’t necessarily hear you almost at all.” says Lacey.

“I just I just told you!” they say.

Lacey looks disturbed and confused. “You’re not saying anything. You’re just trying to rape me.” 

“That’s true.” they finally admit.

(Adult content below)

“Do you have a personality disorder?” asks Lacey.

“Yeah, a lot of us have been diagnosed with one.” they say.

“Oh, OK then I think you’re just insane and I have no fucking clue how to get rid of you. Do you want me to kill you all?” says Lacey.

“Those of us who don’t have personality disorders are saying yes those of us who don’t have personally-who do have personality disorders would like a chance to kill you because how dare you-how dare you be better than us! See that’s illegal! That’s is a violation of code 74.” says Lacey.

“Wound you please elucidate-would you please illuminate-would you please extrapolate-would you please explain Code 74?” says Lacey. 

“I got it from reading something on a page once. The page was 74. And on page 74 it said when a woman’s body is a need, essentially when she’s wet, or horny or aroused like a cat in heat that is a man you have a right to slaughter her…because how dare that bitch steal your scene.” they say.

“How did Elizabeth Taylor steal your scene?” asks Lacey.

“Do you know Elizabeth Taylor? I hate you already. …She’s a horny cow!

With those big tits and that pretty dark face and the minute she just walks on dumbass men who really should be with me. Yes I’m a closeted bisexual. Yes I’m possibly a closeted homosexual. …But you know people are supposed to know that. …And then she shows up it with those big tits and it’s just like all the men go crazy for her, and if they just had a chance to know my heart, and how kind and loving and sweet and gentle and perseverance and brave I am! But they just don’t bother because they just get so flabbergasted with her tits.” they say suddenly sincerely weeping.

“Are those men straight or gay?” says Lacey.

“I don’t know! You know I just look and think they’re all mine. See…they’re all mine. They’re all gay men in their hearts…and they’re just waiting to find out.

I’ve never thought that I should have to analyze other people’s orientation, because that’s not my job. My mother loved me…and she taught me to just show-up, do my thing and then just wow everyone. And so that’s what I do. I just show-up and bring the razzle-dazzle…and then those assholes like Elizabeth Taylor? It’s like, ‘FUCK!’ I mean they just walk in and take them all! And I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to even do, bitches.” they say.

“Maybe they’re not yours. Maybe not everyone is yours.” says Lacey.

“You know fine, but she just shows-up and takes everyone!” they say.

“Literally everyone!??” says Lacey, incredulously.

“Well I sure as fuck have that impression! You’re telling me that I’m crazy or that I can’t see straight? What the fuck?” they say.

“That-that no, it actually might be crazy. I don’t think it’s possible scientifically for her to take everyone. She may take a number of people. More than most. But I don’t think she literally takes everyone. I think you take your own hyperbole a little too seriously.” says Lacey.

“Well fine! But the ones who were left behind are the ones that expect me to have some serious relationship with them…or have some serious conversation. And I just don’t have time for that bullshit.” they say.

“Well what are you looking for?!?” says Lacey.

They think. “You know kind of a girl like you?” they say.

“That’s not true, sweetie! I am kind of attractive and unusually so. So may be being attracted to me but I don’t know that you’re actually looking for me.” says Lacey.

“Why not!?” they say.

“Do you want to have that discussion?

I actually find it fascinating!

I love analyzing things!

You may get bored and I can’t off-the-top-of-my-head figure out what it is but I really don’t think you’re actually interested in me necessarily at all. I think you could be trying to just like sexually attack me because you’re angry at me for some reason and it seems like a smart way to attack me and that’s interesting.

Um, it’s not. But I am not interested in hearing the arguments you have against my existence or whatever the Hell it is that you have a problem with. I’m sorry. Take that up with God.

Oh, but-but-but I think a cracked and minor standing of you there’s a little tiny part of you that actually really does think that you could genuinely like me and I am a little worried that you have a misunderstanding I don’t know where you arrived at it, but I don’t quite by that you’re actually interested in me.” says Lacey.

They sigh. Think.

Later.

“So…I don’t want to talk too deep. I’ll take your word for it.” they say to Lacey.