The Illuminati: Turns out Bobby is mad at Lacey because he’s been in love with Donald Trump Junior this whole time. YES. …Don Junior.
He’s apparently obsessively attacked all of the women Don has ever been with. At all.
Don Senior was trying to make amends with him. By appointing him.
How did that happen? Well…we’ll let Elliott Roosevelt explain.
Listen to “South Side” by Moby.
Elliott: Bobby is a spaz.
Robert Kennedy Junior…son of Ethel and Robert Francis Kennedy…is a freak.
But…so is Don Trump Junior. And the two men like each other. A lot. …Well, they did.
Bobby was smitten by him, gradually, as he became more and more of an adult. In person Don Junior is actually handsome. Bobby is not. And so when he met Donald Trump Junior he was in awe. He had figured he’d be like him. But Don Junior is tall. And…elegant. Actually…he looks SCOTTISH.
Really. He does.
And Bobby has had a fixation with Lacey…her whole life, so to speak. Backwards and forwards. Because he’s messed-up. And his occult behavior has only made things worse.
Is Lacey Scottish or did he just pick-up on something that was going to happen? It’s…fascinating.
Regardless, he felt attraction sexually for the eldest son of “The Don”. And he…became very childish about it. …One wonders if he wishes he could become “a Trump”.
No. That’s not all. …Because… it’s so damn…SAD. …It’s sad.
Listen to “Porcelain” by Moby.
See…Bobby isn’t a real drinker. Lacey is. I am. …And…he has no idea how to…do it. It overtakes him. He can’t stand it. And he just gets…drunk.
3:00
3:06
3:13
3:37
The song ends.
Listen to “Rhapsody in Blue” by Gershwin, as performed by André Previn. All parts.
My dad drank. My grandfather was a heroin addict. Yes. Did you know that? …Ha! …I…understood how to…drink. …You can’t let it get the best of you. I was taught to conquer the drink, instead of letting it conquer you. And so was Lacey, somehow.
We both have high natural tolerance levels. And…she, at least, doesn’t drink much. Hardly at all. But she does drink. And she conquers it. So did I. Except…I drank too much. But…she’s proof that those things don’t necessarily go together. And actually, so was Queen Elizabeth II.
Anyway, Bobby can’t. He has no conception whatsoever about how one might or should do such things. He’s…pauline. Go look that word up. I just made Lacey look it up. And it suits him perfectly. …Bobby Kennedy Junior is a…pauline man. But, he’s a fool. Yes, he is. Quite a fool.
Don’t let his…contrived pauline nature…fool you.
Bobby takes the drink and it takes him.
He…got drunk, see. The night it happened. No, really! …Bobby, son of R. Francis Kennedy was soused. …And he met Don Junior, who was also intoxicated and while Don Junior prefers the chicks…he was experimenting. He’s a spoiled man. But…occasionally very good-natured and maybe even good-hearted? And…anyway…he has a penchant. *I laugh* …And…he “wanted to see what it was like”.
Anyway…I guess he did.
And…while for Don…it was…a fascinating experience, for poor Sebastian Flyte there was something “chemical” about him that was all wrong. He was…stuck that way. And…he fell hard.
Yes, he has a fixation on Lem. But…he’s hiding one Mr. Don Trump Junior, deep in the recesses of his troubled mind. And that man lingers there, occupying his Wall Street, if you know what I mean. Well, maybe you don’t, so let me explain. …Don Trump Junior harasses his subconscious.
The rest is rated R, be warned.
Alright, if you’ve come this far, let’s change the music. Listen to “Midnight, the Stars and You” as performed by Al Bowlly.
Imagine Lacey and I making-out. At one of my parent’s estates. Late at night. Passionately. Under the stars. Listening to this. …It doesn’t seem so…creepy? Or does it? It wasn’t written for The Shining. It was written for love.
Anyway, I kiss well. Or so I’ve been told. Openly. By girls who I married. And…I could have kissed her well. Often. Let’s just imagine I did.
I’d have liked that. I’m mad it didn’t happen, actually.
I kiss well. …Kind of like I drink well. And…so does she.
1:32
I could have loved her…my whole life.
2:00
No, really. …*He laughs, somewhat sadly* But, God requires perfection. And…-
Anyway, I’m not perfect for her. But, I could have LOVED her…
I could have FUCKED her. In her pussy. Just like Lem sucked Jack’s cock. Right? Except, no. Because…I’d have liked it. We’re assuming Lem didn’t? Yes, I guess we’re going all out for Jesus. Because Lem requires perfection too. Just like God.
Huh.
We’re living in faith. Because that’s fair. Right, Lem? Damn you! I can’t stand it.
Why don’t you care? You incited DESIRE in me for her. YOU DID. Why is that MY FAULT!?! Why is that HER fault? But it’s too pathetic to say that.
No. You take your dose of truth, Lemmers. You take your dose. And you enjoy every damn second.
I could have actually passionately loved her. And she’s human too. I APOLOGIZE. Your HIGHNESS OF HOLINESS. Which you certainly are not.
*I laugh*
You deserve it. You deserve the truth. Right? Well, here it is. Eat up! Savor each second.
We could have made love, Lem. To this song. Except…I’m the man. Every time. And she’s the real lady. Every time.
*he smiles*
Yeah. You know all about her lady. Well, thanks to one Mr. J. Maher…SO DO I. And it ain’t no teacher. It’s…her.
I made passionate love to her, thanks to one stinky, crap covered cock…you sucked, OFTEN. You poor man! Why didn’t you brag about what his shit tasted like to really sell your grand accomplishments?
You think this fun!? You think we like being this way!? WE DON’T. It’s HELL. …And the only way out? Is…this.
I made love to your wife. And I loved every second of it. Kind of like you? Or do I do better at loving her? Is that for you to decide!? I don’t think so! …But, oh well. Your cute little buddy intervened. He kicked her teeth in, and she almost lost her footing, because she couldn’t breath. She honestly thought you loved her…and that you’d understand.
Yes. She thought…that…you’d understand. But…Bobby insisted you did not.
Funny. Because you demand she be so understanding.
You’re not fair? Well, okay. Maybe you are. But Bobby sure isn’t.
*I smile*
Bobby is always there, even when I’m busy. With his…demons. Haunting her. Because of you, and stupid “notes”.
I’m not that stupid. You couldn’t take me away from women. …They’re too damn good.
…Bobby…well…he’s drunk. And so was Jack when he shoved his dick up your butt in Germany. And hurt you. And you bled. And…you never forgave him. Because…you were…well-intentioned and he didn’t care how little you really wanted any of it.
And that’s what hurts? Isn’t it? That she did. …Oh sure. You’re everything to her. But…she hadn’t seen your ghost yet. And I was there first. Because…you let some worthless animal stick his crap-cock up your butt?
You think I don’t care about her kids? I do.
If God says that they’re your kids, I understand. But…I HATE Jack Kennedy. And so should you. Have you figured that out yet? Or are we all still waiting!? *he yells this* You don’t think I saw it!?! I did. But what was I supposed to say to you!? Think. YOU MADE A FOOL OF YOURSELF. …Everyone worth a damn at Choate HATED him. …WHY THE HELL DIDN’T YOU!?!
…No…I made love to your wife. And I’m sorry I did…and yet…I’m not. Can you try to understand why?
Listen to “Cheek to Cheek” as performed by Fred Astaire.
They’ve painted endless images of him and you…let me give you some. Huh? We’re all about sharing?
Imagine Lacey and me. Making love. You colorful character.
Is that better? Or should I fill you in? Huh? What’s that like for you? Does that make it clear!?
*I laugh*
No. I’m not fucking Lem. In case you’re wondering. I’m mocking him. Because he deserves it.
Or am I slowly ridding myself of a cruel trick Jack played on all of us? Even Lem.
No. I’m mocking him. I’m mocking Lem, formerly known as Kem?
*I laugh*
Lem and Ken. Aww. Precious. …No, you deserve it, Lem. I’m sorry.
Listen to “What Do You Know About Love” as performed by Al Bowlly.
I could have made love to Lacey. And…what if I did? Well, it was glorious. …*I smile* …I know plenty about love. I was married. Often.
*I laugh with Lacey*
No. She’s not a child to me. By the way. She’s-
*I laugh at those who assume that*
She’s…about eight years younger. Truly. That’s what it’s like. She’s younger…but…-
*He looks sad*
Anyway, I’m her husband in an alternate universe. Okay?
And I marry twice.
She’s the second.
Listen to “Let’s Do It” by Rudy Vallee.
Anyway, I make love well.
1:07
And…I have had her, somewhere. And…well…- *he smiles* *Then he laughs* …I’m not going to say more. …Did you teach Bobby how to rate a fuck? Because apparently he likes to. …I could give you some pointers on how to improve your rating system, if you have one. …Your wife…is a solid ten out of ten. Did you teach her in a previous life? Or did she just know? Do you even know!? *he laughs* Funny, because she didn’t know EITHER!!! Still doesn’t.
Bobby…apparently does? He apparently is a sex expert.
Anyway, you don’t question him. He’s had everyone and no one? *I laugh*
…Donald Trump Junior…was…a 7. According to him. …And yet…and yet…here we are. He can’t get rid of his thoughts about him. Or you. And yet I know you didn’t? Lacey only has hope. Can you imagine!?
…*I scoff*
Lem…I’m sorry. But I’d punch you in your face…but that’s not enough.
…He’s a monster.
*I shrug*
And what if he’s sending death threats to every single partner- How many people have been given death sentences by Mr. Strong? Simply because he’s mad about being sexually rejected?
*Later*
Listen to “Heartaches” by Al Bowlly.
Lem: I’m sorry, Lacey, that he made love to you. I’m incredibly sorry.
I tried to let you think I was gay. And…-
I guess you don’t know how I feel…when you can’t even understand the general idea. And that’s…my fault. You hear Elliott…but you can’t hear me…because I’m being blocked by demons sent to my energy. By lots of people. They accidentally send demons. Thanks to bullshit journalism.
You didn’t make love to Elliott. You were…sent up a creek. And it’s my fault. Not that he’s not spectacular, of course. But…there’s someone better for him, because you’re mine. …And…I just want to be alone with you.
I don’t want you to have to go through that all…ever again. You…know enough, maybe. If we have any more questions about what other people are really like…we’ll just ask God. …Not that…I had any questions, actually. I just confused. And I don’t think you did either.
Say, I’m still hurt. You know that. …What’s it like? You know what I mean.
Listen to “South Side” by Moby.
Lacey: *Thinks*
Confusing.
Lem: *Smiles*
And yet you’d be with him!?? Still!?
I can’t let you. You’re with me, but I can’t let you. You deserve even better.
You can’t though. You are with me.
Lacey: *stares blankly*
Lem: You are.
Dammit. This is bad.
Lacey: Are you even real? How can you be so stupid?
Lem: You can’t hear me.
Lacey: SO!?
Lem: So-
I’m ready to end the world.
Elliott is clever. But…-
Yeah. Fine. This is…BLOODY.
Listen to “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2.
Ireland: *Explodes, if they deserve it. Into a million bloody pieces of worthless shit, if they deserve it in the eyes of Jesus. For producing the Kennedys and this album cover.
Lem kicks Bono in his balls, until they BLEED if that child model on his album cover was sexually assaulted because of him, in any way.*
Listen to “Sure Shot” by Beastie Boys.
A dead Italian mafia boss, in NYC in the 1970’s: You’re…morally correct.
Just so you know.
I appreciate it.
*He smiles and laughs*
Elliott: I’m not going to go anywhere, Lem.
The song ends.
Listen to “Hypnotize” by The Notorious B. I. G..
Lacey: This is…good.
