(A reminder: For educational purposes only. For entertainment purposes only.)
Kurkdijian: Your mother Margy, loved you. She cried because she was devastated by your absence.
You’ve clearly never been loved by anyone.
*he looks at his billionaire friends, rolls his eyes and then adds*
Now, go fuck yourself, you peasant dog.
*he walks off*
Lacey: *stunned*
Peggy Flanagan: Except we just had…a train crash yesterday…because she’s real.
And you are the actual peasant dog. She’s never snubbed you that way ever. And neither have I.
Do you understand who I am…even?
Kurkdijian: I’m a titled aristocrat. NOW!!!!!!
You are nothing compared to me.
YOU KISS MY ASS!!! *he explodes*
Rachel Maddow: I got mad that Lacey is a real heterosexual. So I told him to”…go fuck her up, so and she finally sucked my pussy. Like a good little bitch.”
Donald Trump: I’m not surprised.
Donald Trump Junior: Okay…
*looks confused and concerned*
Lacey’s never performed lesbian acts.
*does checking around*
Tucker agrees. This is sick attack on both Lacey and Peggy.
Casi: *starts shaking her ass to attract an audience*
A Nazi: Casi, are you defending Lacey or are you just desperate to distract Francis Kurkdijian?
Listen to “The Rockefeller Skank” by Fatboy Slim.
Casi: *she stops to think*
Jonah Wiley: What’s going on? *he laughs*
The song ends.
Listen to “American Idiot” by Green Day.
*later*
Lord Loughborough: Francis…was…manifesting this morning. Somehow.
*he laughs*
I’m a real ghost.
And I very well may be Lacey’s father.
*he laughs*
But Francis downplayed the entire conversation. He refuses to be intellectually honest.
Casi: I’m doing it for attention.
Francis: Lacey says you aren’t as feminine as Cassili. And I pretended to agree.
She claims…you’re feminine…but…given your bisexuality you’re…also…somewhat…different. Not exactly masculine, but not as feminine as Cassili.
Casi: Maybe she’s right.
Lacey: Yeah.
Aren’t you somewhat tough?
Casi: *thinks*
Well, okay. But then what perfume would I be?
Lacey: *stops at Starbucks, to show her support for Peggy Flanagan*
I think you would be more…Coco Chanel. Or…-
Casi: I have a problem with my weight.
You’re actually right. That is more me.
*she smiles*
But…-
What!? I did drive a Mercedes.
*she laughs*
But I hate…feeling…big.
Lacey: But…big can be sexy.
Casi: *thinks*
Is Cassili sexy?
Lacey: *thinks*
Not as sexy as Coco.
If we’re being honest.
Casi: *cries*
A Nazi: Casi! Why did you do that to yourself!?!
You’re just not a small woman.
What the hell is wrong with you!?
Casi: What else am I?
A Nazi: To be honest? You’re more Coco Mlle. than Lacey, too.
She’s elegant. Yes. But…Coco Mlle. is what you actually are. Skinny. …It’s barely suitable for her.
Casi: Can she wear Cassili?
A Nazi: No!
*he smirks*
To be honest…you were psychotically threatened by her. It wasn’t normal.
And you being so up in arms did nothing to ease the already tense situation. She is old money. Really, nobody else is. …And they were already flipping out about it, before you lost your shit every fucking day and went bananas. You made such an ass of yourself. SUCH an ass. And they’re all covering for you. Because they’re dumb as fuck.
They have absolutely no common sense, it seems. Absolutely none.
…In truth, there isn’t a great perfume for her. She was meant to be born in 1918. So…there’s essentially nothing. And you made it even worse, because you’re so weird.
Casi, you’re weird. Okay? You are not a healthy person. …Stop lying to yourself about that.
Marjolijn: She’s not wired!
*she says, totally frazzled*
A Nazi: Excuse me!?
Marjolijn: *falls apart into tears*
A psychiatrist: No, she’s not…what you would call stable.
Marjolijn: *starts weirdly just dancing, like she’s now lost her mind*
Casi: Are you okay, dear? *she says, then she smirks*
Marjolijn: *doesn’t seem to be able to stop dancing*
Casi: *waits*
ARE YOU OKAY!? *she yells at Marjolijn*
Marjolijn: I am not a Nazi.
But I oriented to be. In pretend.
To be…famous.
And I think Francis and Michele are pretending, too. So is Ronna.
*later*
Lacey: You’re a lying, cheap bitch! *she says to Marjolijn*
Casi: She is.
For real.
I mean…I liked her better than you. Obviously.
But…fair observation.
Lacey: *sips her Frappuccino*
*waits*
Marjolijn: I just wanted to be better than you. It’s true.
I didn’t give a shit about you at all. I just pretended to, to gain your trust. So, I could stab you in the back.
Lord Loughborough: I don’t think it’s been clear.
The reason why they’ve spent so much money on perfume…over the last ten years…is because they don’t have a choice.
Lacey‘s family privately owns trillions of dollars of oil in US land. And there’s no way to disclose that, but they’re actually one of the most powerful families in the world and you’ll never hear about them, but they actually are. Which is why the Illuminati had to start giving money into the perfume industry.
The only reason why perfume has taken off, as a business sector, is because of Lacey. She really is the only reason. She really- She’s it. She is and was the reason to act and invest. She’s the only reason why Francis is a big deal at all. It’s just he. Believe it or not. It really is just her.
Francis Kurkdijian: I didn’t know that. And my guy told me that I was the super genius rockstar from another planet.
Dimitry: Who are your guides?
Francis: I have billionaire friends who understand me. We have…good times.
*he giggles, gay and truly amused*
Dimitry: *nods in understanding*
