A dead Colombian: You…are being channeled.
Can you feel it?
Lacey: YES.
A dead Colombian: They’ve been trying to contact you for a while.
The perfume community: Lacey.
Lacey: HOLD ON.
Casi: So…I’m confused.
Why…-
So…-
I guess you just-
You assumed that the culture was in favor of you posting your perfume collector to Instagram?
Lacey: Yes.
Casi: So you were just going along with the trends?
Lacey: Yes.
Casi: *Looks disturbed*
No, I mean…we do. But we meant to brag. That was the whole point.
Lacey: *Thinks*
Was it obvious I wasn’t aware of the competition?
God: Yes.
Lacey: *Rolls her eyes*
Yeah.
Casi: We assumed the worst.
An American woman: So there’s no competition!?
*she scoffs*
Lacey: With what?!
An American woman: With these beautiful flowers.
*She refers to the perfume community.*
Lacey: In what way?
An American woman: *She laughs at Lacey, haughtily*
Oh my…
So…there’s no competition?
Lacey: Over what!?
An American woman: YOU ARE LYING!!!
*She loses her control and looks like a pouting toddler, suddenly.*
Lacey: No.
I’m not.
What in HELL are you talking about?
An American woman: *Starts crying*
Lacey: What is she crying about?
God: She imagined that you were lying.
She was referring to the competition over which one of you was the most elite.
Lacey: Oh.
Well there’s an actual reality. Maybe it was me. But I’m gone now, regardless.
God: Yes.
But that’s not what they thought.
To them it was a real thing. And…you’re right. It was…in the context of reality. But to them…it also wasn’t. Because they felt that there was a competition within the community itself.
Glenn: Did you not know that!??
Lacey: I knew…there was some competition. But…I genuinely didn’t understand.
This blog…is the truth, in that regard.
I truly didn’t understand the American culture, in that sense. At all. Apparently.
I knew Americans were competitive…but not in that way.
Glenn: We compete.
Lacey: You assume you do.
Glenn: *Looks angry*
*Later*
Casi: So…you post Coty Chypre. And discuss it.
I post Thierry Mugler Alien. It’s a post subbing you, calling you pretentious.
What do you do now?
Lacey: I…
*Thinks*
I don’t post for two weeks.
Casi: And what do you post?
Lacey: Something else related to Coty.
Casi: So you’re making your posts more…boring?
Lacey: YES.
Casi: How many followers does she have? In this case?
Lacey: I have 4,000. Tops.
But…that’s fine.
Or it would have been.
Casi: Why are you so anti competition?
Lacey: It’s just icky.
Casi: *Freezes*
The perfume community: Icky!?
Lacey: Yes!
It’s yuck.
Like…vomit.
The perfume community: What about when you’re playing a board game?
Lacey: I have to humor people. I always have. Mostly.
I just…find it…gross.
Casi and the perfume community: We love it.
To us…it’s…fun. On a certain level.
Lacey: But it’s exhausting. And time consuming. And…utterly pointless.
Casi and the perfume community: That-
It’s not to us.
Lacey: Why do you like it?
Casi and the perfume community: Aren’t you competing!?
Lacey: NO!
Stop MOLESTING me.
I’m NOT. YOU STOP.
Casi and the perfume community: So…this isn’t competition?
Lacey: No!
You’re physically attacking me.
This is WAR.
Casi and the perfume community: I keep feeling like it’s a competition.
Lacey: Are you delusional?
Casi and the perfume community: Then you don’t like us!
Lacey: GET A CLUE!!!!
I DON’T KNOW YOU!!!
YOU COMMITTED A FELONY.
…YOU ATTACKED ME.
…YOU ARE NOT…MY FRIENDS.
Casi and the perfume community: But then-
I only attacked you…because you went too far.
Lacey: How?
Casi and the perfume community: You made it personal.
Lacey: YOU made it personal.
Casi and the perfume community: Yeah. You are right. We did start harassing you and copying your identity.
Fair.
Umm…-
But…in a way…it didn’t feel personal. To us.
Because…we just saw it as competition. …Just run-of-the-mill jealousy and competition.
Lacey: Okay.
Well…I didn’t understand your competition stuff.
Casi and the perfume community: So we were shit-talking your soul? That was actually just you?
God: YES.
And trying to literally copy her real personality.
Casi and the perfume community: So we were questioning actual reality. Okay.
*A moment passes*
Listen to “The Power” by SNAP!.
JFK: *Tries to break-dance in 1986. In the actual past.
Can’t.
But looks cool in his pleated, creased khakis and knit white sweater.*
The song plays.
A dead gang member: Why are you here?
JFK: I’m gay.
A dead gang member: Huh.
That’s what I was too.
JFK: Yeah.
A dead gang member: You dance?
JFK: *Laughs*
A dead gang member: *Tries to dance with him*
JFK: *Looks awkward*
4:44
Lem: He was hiding, by using me. I was straight, so he didn’t have to deal with situations like this.
5:28
The song ends.
The song restarts. It’s 1990.

A dead gang member: Let’s try again.
*He glares at JFK*
Jack Kennedy: *Desperately tries to look good, dancing. But clearly has no practice.
Almost cries.
The other guy…tries to be kind. But he’s…annoyed.
This dead, mostly Black former gang leader, danced competitively, while alive. In New York City.*
2:13
Lacey: Who has the power now?
*She laughs*
The dead gang member: Yeah.
He’s whack!
Come on! TRY!
Jack Kennedy: *Tries again.*
4:11
Jack Kennedy: *Cries*
The dead man: *Dances brilliantly in JFK’s face. Challenging him.*
The song ends.
“The Power (Dub)” by SNAP! plays for the two men, dancing somewhere in NYC, in 1990.
Jack: *Tries to dance.
Gets frustrated.
His face gets red.
He fumes.
Rips off his sweater.
Pushes the other guy, who just laughs at him.*
A Black grandmother, who was born in 1911: You never took dancing lessons?
JFK: *Can’t figure out how to respond to her. He’s not used to talking to real people…without handlers and family concierges.*
3:36
Jeff Epstein: *Feeling awkward, as he admired JFK, tries dancing himself. And…it looks better than JFK, sadly.
Since this is outside of time…no one there knows how to respond. They all know who he is. Many people just walk away, as respectfully as is appropriate.*
The song ends.
Listen to “Lovefool” by The Cardigans.
Lem: I never truly loved him. Actually, I didn’t love him at all.
0:38
JFK: *Cries.*
FUCKERS!!!
*He cries.*
Lacey: You should have learned to dance.
JFK: *Stares at her.*
*Wipes his tears.*
*Sniffles*
Why are you here?
Lacey: You should have learned to dance.
JFK: I should have.
The song ends.
And that…was when he decided she should marry Joe.
Listen to “Eyes Without A Face” by Billy Idol.
He decided…if she had it in her heart…to make that comment…at that moment?
Satan: He wanted to know what she’d say. Years after the abuse.
If she saw his defeat.
I showed him that moment.
0:22
America: *Looks shocked*
0:45
Elliott Roosevelt: I’m not okay with this!!!
*He yells at God.*
1:50
America: Why…does he try to get her to marry Joe?
Satan: Because he decides he likes her. After all.
2:36
Pat Wilson: Obviously…I was never asked.
3:00
America: So he tries to ruin Lem. And then he feels bad? And offers her Joe?
Elliott: No.
3:33
Elliott: No.
He’s…a narcissist. I’m sorry.
He chose to…-
Anyway…-
He doesn’t feel bad. He just likes her. …He wanted Lem around all of the time.
He just likes them.
A LOT.
So he decided she should marry Joe.
Listen to “What Is Love” by Haddaway.
Mark, Lacey’s husband: *Dances with his wife wife Lady Thynne, if there’s reincarnation. In the future.
It looks…good.
Lacey is impressed.
She’s not sure why she’s seeing this. But she’s impressed.*
A dead British aristocrat: You’re not supposed to see this. It’s a glitch.
They’re good.
Lacey: What if there’s no reincarnation? Who is that? She looks like the woman who would have been his wife?
A dead British aristocrat: His…other half. In Heaven.
Lacey: They’re perfect for each other. He looks so happy.
A dead British aristocrat: INDEED!
*He smiles*
Lacey: What happened?
A dead British aristocrat: *sighs*
There’s a literal rip. In the fabric of time.
Listen to “Jump Around” by House of Pain.
MH370: *scream*
Lacey: Huh.
So…he hides them…using…the energy harvested by molesting children? They’ll never be saved…
Moloch: YES!
That’s what that does.
It’s not useful!
They’re being sent to the depths of the ocean. Never to be seen again.
Lacey: It’s in the song.
A woman who died on the plane: That’s me, screaming. In the song.
They’ll never figure that out.
*She laughs, scornfully*
A psychic: This song is lit!
Who are you?
The woman: I’m from the Philippines.
But I lived in Malaysia.
I was listed as Malaysian.
She can barely hear me.
But that’s what she hears.
I was…Asian? But…I seem Filipino to her. And maybe I am?
Lacey restarts the song.
The woman: Anyway, that’s me. That’s my voice.
The Illuminati: GO TO HELL!
That’s her!?!?
Lacey: That’s what I seem to be being told.
The Illuminati: *Freaks-out*
Princess Kate: War…and Global Warming.
1:40
Russia: You think I’m funny?
2:12
2:30
The woman: We flew through the air. I was on the ceiling.
He dove us, full-speed, into the ocean.
Why?
Africa: *A young African girl in the 1700’s…sees a demonic manifestation, in the distance. A dancing spirit. She stares at it. Three demons. Dancing. In a circle.
They’re attempting to…save themselves. Because they went too far. Much too far. With human slavery.*
The woman: We were screaming. For about…three minutes.
And then…we were…all dead.
He crashed us into the ocean. Because…he knew. Far too many things.
He knew about child trafficking.
He knew.
And he wanted to save people. From…Hell.
He’d seen trafficking on his planes. He was a very smart man. Very observant.
And so…he decided to…bring us to the Tiger side. Kids. Adults.
He…was trying to rescue us.
He felt life in the darkness of our time…was…becoming more and more like Hell.
2:35
The Pilot: Everybody…jump?
Dakota?
North Dakota.
*He laughs.*
Bridge jumping?
Lacey…the kids on the hill? Remember when you visited DC? And toured Congress?
“Stay right!” Who said that?
Lacey: A Republican named Phil. He was yelling at me to be Republican. And on the stairs it said, “Keep right” or “stay to the right”. And he pointed to that, as if it was some…sign?
Bill and I laughed about it.
Moloch: Dizzying?
Non?
3:14
The song ends and restarts.
A reader: But you all made this.
How do you not know what’s in it?
The Illuminati: STOP BEING SO NAIVE!!!!
*They yell*
Matt Nesheim: At the funeral of my grandfather, who was a heavily decorated fighter pilot in World War II, we went bridge-jumping.
A dead Colombian: Yeah.
My great grandson was there.
He’s…Colombian.
He’s…Spanish.
Lacey: The Moors.
A dead Colombian: BINGO.
Lacey: Where in Iran?
A dead Colombian: *Laughs*
I liked you.
You’re a good person.
*Thinks*
Look at a map. I’ll show you.
Bandar Abbas.
Lacey: They’re channeling Lem there?
Pilot: They’re trying to.
They have been trying to hear him. They don’t know who he is. But they can hear a man.
And they can tell he’s significant.
