The perfume community: So this isn’t her real aesthetic? This is a desperate attempt to protect herself from being sadistically attacked by the Illuminati?
The Illuminati: YES.
And it’s effective.
We’re not used to this…level of exposure. But…to be honest? It’s cool.
It’s so bad-ass some Satanists are actually impressed.
But no, it’s not her real writing style. She’s…just…clever.
So yes. You’re mocking the soul of a real tortured, heroic victim.
Why? Oh! Wait! I know. Because you’re in debt.
How much?
One of them: $300,000.00.
The Illuminati: And you can’t buy Sweet Greens everyday?
Or what?
One of them: No!
I eat ramen. Every day.
Lacey: With an egg?
One of them: Yes. Sometimes. But still.
The Illuminati: How much of that is store bought debt?
One of them: $30,000.00.
The Illuminati: To look rich?
One of them: Yes.
The Illuminati: *Nods*
How much do you make?
One of them: $60,000.00 a year.
The Illuminati: Yeah. That is rough. Considering.
So…do you have any idea what she’s going through? She’s losing her hair. From stress.
One of them: Then that’s her fault.
Not mine.
Casi: *Clapping her hands*
PRAISE YOU JESUS, FOR THE TRUTH!!!
THANK YOU LORD!!!
*She stands-up and cheers*
God: Actually, it is your fault. Directly.
And you’re worshipping evil. Not me.
You’re taking my name in vain. I told you not to do that.
One of them: *Thinks*
But she’s old money.
She shops at expensive grocery stores.
She fucks ghosts.
I haven’t had a date in months.
I’m obviously…the victim.
God: No. You’re not.
You’re a liar.
And a traitor.
You have innocent people defending you, in her daily life. Making fools of themselves. And you do not remotely deserve it.
You’re just mad she’s not as bad off as you. That’s the bottom line. You can’t be happy for her. You never could be. Her blessing made you all very angry. And very bitter.
Because you don’t want to admit any of your real mistakes.
You don’t have to go get a degree in fashion design. And go into debt $150,000.00.
One of them: But then…-
I didn’t know what else to do?
God: And she’s LOSING HER BEAUTIFUL HAIR.
WAY before she was supposed to.
…Is she viciously stalking any of you? Trying to harm you, psychologically, like a psychopath!? Feeling totally morally justified the whole time?
One of them: That’s illegal to say!!! God is slandering me!!!
The Attorney General: No. You’re just an idiot.
*they laugh*
This isn’t slander!
This is good comedy.
*Both Pete Hegseth and Micheal Moore laugh.*
Micheal Moore: “God is slandering me!” *he says, laughing.*
One of them: Okay!!!
Fine.
But…I eat ramen.
God: And you have roommates?
One of them: Yes.
God: How much was your parent’s house?
One of them: $600,000.00. And they’re worth $2 million.
God: Why don’t they help more?
One of them: Okay.
It’s $600,000.00. And they’re still paying on it.
And they have a net worth of $600,000.00. They can’t afford to help.
God: But you had the impression growing-up that you were real “rich kid”? And you felt…better than most people?
One of them: *Wearing Zara and Aritzia*
I mean…-
God: Yes. You did.
You’re a mean person!
One of them: *Looks indignant*
But…she can’t-
I’m not going to take this!
I’m-
God: You’re not used to one of your victims being better than you, in reality? All along?
One of them: I’m NOT a bad person. Just because I’m a huge bitch. And I use people. And I’m a dumbass, ignorant slut? Who sleeps with anyone to socially get ahead? No! I’m GOOD. I’m…virtuous.
God: How?
One of them: I’m aware.
I join…in. On the fight.
I care.
Black people? Wow! I care. …Racism! So common. …I’m a racist! Constantly.
Ageism? Yeah. Old people are wise. And I’m…aware.
Sexism? Huh. What even is gender? You know?
See!!! I’m GOOD.
*She smiles, stupidly proud of herself.*
God: But in your heart, that’s all performative. You mostly just care about yourself and those who support that.
One of them: You’re not God.
I’m a god.
God: No. I’m God.
So you got excited to attack her? Because you’re excited to sink your vile bloodthirsty teeth into a juicy victim?
One of them: Yes.
I’m a boss.
Casi: Isn’t evil cool!?!
*she snorts and laughs*
Peter Thiel: *Claps his hands and awkwardly does a happy dance, like a total gay nerd.*
Oh my god! It’s so cool.
God: He’s not safe, when he’s like this.
Peter: I’ll just fuck Him later. He’s my secret sugar daddy in the sky.
God: Not true!
You’ve been trying have sex with a demon who impersonates me. Not me.
Peter Thiel: No! Because I was so sure that was you?
God: I don’t have sex with humans. Ever.
Peter Thiel: You have sex with Jesus?
God: No.
He’s my son.
No, I don’t.
Peter Thiel: You have sex with the Holy Ghost?
God: No.
Peter Thiel: Who are you having sex with?
God: Not something to discuss here and now.
Peter Thiel: *Looks inquisitive and confused*
God: So…Lacey is actually very beautiful. Do you see that?
One of them: Yes.
God: Which makes it seem like more fun? Because you’re sick?
One of them: Yes.
God: You’re a dumb person? And you can’t process the real meaning of anything, easily?
One of them: Yes. But I’m good at aesthetics.
God: And marketing.
And you were a spoiled child.
One of them: Yes.
God: She…wasn’t expecting to have to deal with this. As an adult.
Most of her bullies stopped. And completely moved on. Years ago.
Lacey: Why do people like you…do what you do? What are you thinking? I’ve never been able to figure you out.
God: And they chose Casi, who’s secretly poor, secretly ugly and obviously fat?
Lacey: Yes!
You hate those people. Right?
*Looks confused.*
One of them: Yes.
Lacey: Yeah.
What…are you doing?
One of them: She earnestly believed you were one of us. And we reassured her that you clearly were not.
*She high-fives herself*
Lacey: Huh.
…She was wrong.
Why did you assume I was…thinking that? I’m not that ugly nor that stupid…
One of them: *Thinks*
*Thinks, a lot*
*Panics*
*Later*
One of them: So you don’t want my approval?
Lacey: Do I look like I care?!?
One of them: In reality? No.
I do twist your image around in my head to feel prettier and smarter and…more secure. But if I’m being honest? And I rarely am. …No.
You actually seem…like you hate me.
Lacey: I don’t hate you. But the whole “cool” thing? Is just…ick.
In my 20’s…some of you finally started being nice. And I realized what a joke the whole thing is and was. It’s not serious. You’re not serious people. It’s a total farce.
Chris: You’re only saying that because you’re not one of us!!!
*He looks desperate*
Lacey: No.
It’s just ick.
Chris: How is it ick!?
Lacey: Okay.
Some of the “cool people” are, as the movie “Mean Girls” points out…secretly bad ass people. And those people can actually be really genuinely cool, once you get to know them. They’re…deadly. But in a very…genuinely cool way.
…But others are…just…incredibly desperate. And they’re often from poor backgrounds. In all actuality. Even if it was just a hundred years ago.
I feel…empathy. But I’m certainly not impressed.
Casi: Well, I still was. I still am.
Why don’t you want to be…liked?
Lacey: By a bunch of heartless, bubblehead idiots? People with no innate good taste? Or centuries of experience with the finer things? People who are just…losers? By their own cruel standards?
Or a bunch of somehow-closeted dumbasses?
Casi: No! By the pretty people!
Lacey: They’re just unoriginal copycats. They’re so middle class.
I can do better with a toothbrush. I can literally make a toothbrush look classier than those jackass idiots.
Chris: Then why are you so joyful? I assumed you were trying to look happy to fit in…
Lacey: Because of nature. Good literature. Great Britain…
Fog.
Tea.
Those thins are real to me. I’m not some pretentious dingbat.
Chris: So you’re literally living because you love your kids…and you appreciate strong tea?
Lacey: Something like that. Yes.
And I love nature.
Chris: You used to love perfume?
Lacey: Yes. But assholes decided that wasn’t allowed. Not here. Not on their watch!!!
Saddam Hussein: *Cracks-up laughing*
She’s a good lady.
Too bad you don’t understand.
We can form our own “Mean Girls” group. Just the two of us. And snub all of you.
Lacey: Why do you have a need to keep regurgitating your words? Every time you speak? Like you’re farting through your nose and mouth? Or you’re high on glue?
One of them: It sounds rich. And accepted. And cool.
Lacey: But some of you are butt ugly.
Saddam Hussein: Yes! But they don’t want to feel bad.
You can. But they can’t.
Lacey: Why?
Saddam Hussein: Because! Lacey! They fit in!
*He smiles and looks at her, like she just “simply cannot understand”.*
Lacey: Okay.
*She genuinely laughs*
But why are they fitting in? They’re gross sounding. They all sound literally high on themselves.
Saddam Hussein: Because they’re gross.
The women today who weren’t cruel…who wanted to be your friend…wanted to rape and molest you.
Lacey: *Thinks*
What are they doing!?
Saddam Hussein: *Thinks*
Mary Richardson imitated you.
Bobby’s wife.
Actually, they all do.
See…you actually have honor. You’d never let a man use you…because you’re honorable. And to some degree they were like that.
But you’re…really like that.
…These people…the children of my killers…have no honor.
They have no honor.
I’m sorry.
Go get some tea! It’s safe. I promise.
*Lacey goes to get tea.*
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