Lacey starts and Joe Jr. interrupts.
“Sometimes gay men pretend to be straight. That’s being a closeted homosexual. Other times, actors lie. …They fake being gay.” He says. “Not that their reasons aren’t legitimate. Most actors are paid well. Right? …And it’s not as if they would be better actors if you paid them better.”
Lacey is struggling.
Gay people insist Lem’s famous commentary was about him being in the closet. …Even though he makes the closet seem kinda materialistic and sad. Not being lonely questionable.
Joe and Joe insist they’re both her ultimate choice.
Louis is getting depressed.
Michael is… Michael seems possibly upset.
“Kick won’t stop crying, if we’re in Purgatory.” says Joe Sr..
Lacey’s daughter keeps breaking out in hives. And they’re now potentially going to restore their kitchen…and have upended their lives to do so.
“Regretfully upended their lives.” says Michael.
“Behold! The power of the Illuminati!” says Mr. Blue.
“Are you trying to upstage the AntiChrist?” asks Michael. “Using Lacey’s kitchen and the Kennedy’s?”
“And us.” says Rocky. “Is being a jealous prick what you were hired to do?” he asks Mr. Blue.
“This wasn’t the plan.” says Lem.
And God has possibly told Lacey she would have gotten involved with Lem right away. That they’re so drawn to each other that it would have been a near instant issue for Joe.
“You know it’s funny how we assume you and Lem are either cuddly and totally innocuous. Or we think you’re pure evil.” observes a gay man of them.
“I just want to know what’s actually going on in Russia.” says an aging Jewish man. “Clearly they’re lying to us. Maybe she can tell people.” he says to Michael.
“Putin is possibly winning and was possibly entirely justified.” says Lacey.
“Ukraine is an international problem.” says a Chinese person. “It’s a hot spot and always has been to some degree.”
Louis smiles. “Ha!!” he says.
“I’m not sold on that idea. But Putin has guaranteed my life so I could fall asleep in the past. I was being so horrifically spiritually attacked. It was as if I couldn’t control my own brain.” says Lacey. “That was in 2017 or so.”
“Wobbly’s crew taught her how to control us. Out of empathy.” says a Democrat owned by thugs who don’t want her to be angry.
“They’re fine. If they’re not in Hell.” says Joe Sr. cutting to the chase.
“Umm…soo…Putin has a beef with The West.” says the aging Jew. “He’s sick of watching us.”
“Was sick. It’s gotten a bit exasperating.” says a Chinese person. “You all think you’re so cute and witty and progressive.” They laugh. “We eat cats! Right?” They laugh. “You suck the souls out of your own citizens and try to literally send them to Hell. ‘Alive.’” They fume. “Hundreds of thousands of kids and how many adults?”
“Yeah. So I was for sure gay? Huh?” asks Lem.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re insisting Lacey would have raped you.” says the aging Jewish man.
“Actually, they’re cleaning the walls outside her hotel room right now. Clever, because she’s got to stay in the room for at least a half an hour. Her legal husband has a business meeting.” says Lem. “Listen, if the Illuminati exists they manifest shit on people using demons. They don’t necessarily plan everything. They let demons do the planning at times.”
The Jewish man laughs. “During the Holocaust the Germans at least had enough sense not to start torturing other Nazis.” He laughs. “Nowadays they’d make that seem smart.”
“She wouldn’t rape me.” clarifies Lem.
“You have the Nazis and the Super-Nazis. The Super-Nazis run the camp on Thursday’s, see? The Nazis run the camp on Wednesdays. You’ll get used to it!” says the aging Jewish man.
“And sometimes the Super-Nazis kill the Nazis?” asks Lacey.
“Only on Wednesday mornings at 7. Before then or after that…”. He clears his throat. “Before then or after that it’s up to the Super-Chief. He’s a nice guy. His name is Frank.”
“Frank?” asks Frank Sinatra.
“Yes!” says Michael, trying not to laugh.
“Why me?” asks Frank.
“Because they respect you!” says the aging Jewish man.
“He’s dead, though. And be careful because you’ll have to face God soon too.” says Lem. “And He truly knows everything.”
“How did this seemingly random Jewish man interrupt??” asks a perfume hater.
“It seems like he hired a very gifted psychic.” says Lacey. “And God is allowing it.”
“He’s also talking through me.” says Arthur Miller. “If God is allowing it. …She can talk to us more easily than most of you.”
“It’s likely her parent’s genes are nothing to mess with. Think of all the things she could have lived through.” says Lillian Hellman.
“So…this is funny to her genes? It’s the fight they were warned about?” asks a perfume hater. She laughs.
“Actually…it’s probably therapeutic at times to her, if she’s illegitimate. …Mr. Blue, was that…intentional?!” asks a perfume hater. “I mean, you’re not actually God. In my opinion. Sorry.”
Mr. Blue just looks smug.
“No. She didn’t rape me. It was mutual, but I came on to her.” says Lem. “Or would have. Both.”
“Did you like men? Or did we misunderstand you?” asks a Harvey.
“She doesn’t believe me, and you don’t have to either. Your salvation doesn’t depend on it.” Lem smiles. “But I really was straight. I really did just act that way. It wasn’t real with me. I wasn’t queer. I wasn’t…anything but straight.” He thinks. “I may have been a very good actor.”
“Yes. I was too. …But Lacey tends to see through acts like ours.” says Marilyn.
“Why not Mr. Blue’s act?” asks the aging Jewish man.
“Because he lies in a very different way. And it makes absolutely no sense to her. Lem and I were both in excruciating pain. We lied to cover for things we couldn’t control that were baffling to us.” says Marilyn.
“Like abuse?” asks the Jewish man.
“Like horrible abuse.” says Marilyn. “Let’s just say Lacey heard from Lem through God. …He decided he was gay to avoid believing he’d been sexually assaulted and made to experience physical arousal against his will. He didn’t think it would feel good with a man unless you were gay.”
“At all? Like…even if you found the feeling repulsive?” asks an actor from a sitcom.
“Yes.” says Marilyn.
Can’t Tell Me Nothing by Kayne West plays.
“So you thought you’d really figured something out. But you were actually just a victim of sexual abuse who got the idea you were gay into your head and Jack…thought he needed you to be gay.” says the actor. He takes a deep breath. “But Lacey, should she be involved not by choice herself…*cough* …actually did love Joe? Right?” He laughs. Covers his mouth.
“Yes.” says Marilyn.
“Ask how Lacey can both believe Lem was gay and was not.” says Scott humorously, as a hint. “Or excuse me. Queer.”
“You botched that one.” says Hemingway.
“The point is that Lacey can both believe Lem was entirely gay or possibly bisexual and believe he was straight. At the same time.” says Zelda.
“We hired a dead man to play with Jack. Just to see. And he fell for that too.” says a dead Israeli official. “Don’t ask Lacey how. She was fervently taught not to believe in Purgatory. And of course she doesn’t know. …But she knows it’s Christianity at least.”
“Okay so why? Why does Jack not see through men acting?” asks the sitcom actor.
On The Sea by Beach House plays.
Joe and Joe think.
“Because we don’t act in that way.” says Joe Sr. sadly.
“In what way?!” asks the actor.
“Like a Tom.” says Joe Sr.. He stands-up and walks away.
“Like an Englishman? Huh?” asks a black man, smirking and smiling and smoking.
The Next Episode plays.
“Is this about me being racist?” asks Jack Kennedy.
The black man nods. “I’m just being honest.”
Louis laughs.
“You acted in that way. Didn’t you, boy?” the black man asks. “I listened to that conversation she had with that disturbed young black man hiding in the garage near her house that night. …Listen, I respect her need for safety. But…stop playing.” He nods. “Who had the KKK there? You, Joe Jr. or your dad?! Who?”
“You actually believe the KKK was there?” asks Lacey.
“You saw him! And the next night you were unable to leave your house as a black man ran wildly around your neighborhood.” says the black man to Lacey. “You…need…to think.”
“You actually think it’s real?” asks Tommy Banks.
“How are we talking?! It’s never made sense to me either.” says the black man. Then he too…thinks.
“They weren’t rivals.” says Desmond. “But they weren’t friends.” He thinks. “Acquaintances. But…ask Michael for more information.”
Michael cries.
“Were you a racist?” the black man asks Tom.
“Yes. Not by today’s standards. But by my own.” he says.
“Look, I was a racist!!!” yells Jack. Bitterly. In the Met. Although no one living can hear him.
Gangster’s Paradise plays in the Met. A dead Sackler dances with a sense of humor about themselves.
“I was.” says Jack calmly. “So were most people.”
“I did it.” says Louis. “I got the KKK there. But not because I hate black people.“
“What did they do?” asks a black woman.
“They protected Lacey. And that man is either dead now…or he’s aware of the Illuminati.” says Louis. “At least subconsciously.”
“I just can’t believe he’s racist.” Lacey says about Louis.
The black man nods.
“I don’t know. But I doubt it.” She thinks. “But I don’t know.”
More later.
“We don’t understand.” says a housewife. Seemingly sincerely.
Mr. Blue scoffs at her humility. He feels it’s beneath him. He feels that he’s like Louis. He feels…that Lacey is his bunny boiler.
“Do you think it’s all fake? That she’s really just a slutty woman? Desperate. And you’re her secret passion?” asks a lesbian witch of Mr. Blue.
“Yes! My wife has gone through so much. It’s just like the movie.” he says in his spirit. “We’ve attacked Lacey…but for a reason!”
“What if…you’re the bunny boiler?” says a wizard half laughing with Mr. Blue.
“I could claim she was.” says Mr. Blue.
“Like…publicly?!” asks Tommy Banks.
“Yeah?!” he says.
“So Lem is gay?” the sitcom actor asks Mr. Blue.
Mr. Blue thinks. “I don’t know. But getting back to the real problem: I could easily say she’s been stalking my house.” says Mr. Blue. “The Illuminati would back me up.”
“Would anyone care? Or even believe you?” asks a singer.
“Yeah!!” he says seemingly seriously.
“Huh. So we hate Lacey. Why?” a Boomer asks Mr. Blue.
“She’s an ugly, skinny, conservative.” he says.
“Does she use men for sex?” asks the Boomer. “Did she use you?”
He thinks. He sighs. “I don’t think she’s heartless. Her parents just screwed her up. …I think she, in essence, did. But…it was more like I was in control.”
“She bothers you so much?” asks a Boomer man of Mr. Blue.
“I bother her. You know that. She hasn’t contacted me for years. I’ve just been harassing her the whole time.” he admits.
“When did she last ‘contact’ you? Really?” asks Summertime Sadness.
“You mean when did she ever contact me without me prompting her to?” he asks. “Or approaching her first?”
“Yes.” says Summertime Sadness.
“She had a crush on me. And she hash tagged my name once in 2016 saying I was attractive. …Other than that… And she followed me on Instagram. Other than that, never.” he says.
“So…she just tagged your name? In a post? In 2016. On Instagram from her popular perfume account? And you’ve been stalking her with the Illuminati ever since?!?” asks a lesbian witch.
“It’s been really hard. She’s such a jerk. We’ve been through so much. …She’s just…a heinous person.” his wife says. She starts crying. “You have no idea what we’ve been through as a couple.”
“Your wife sounds like the character from Fatal Attraction who boiled bunnies. Lacey sounds…totally uninterested.” says a witch to Mr. Blue. She laughs. “It’s almost comical.”
“I’m hurt! What’s not right about me? She had a crush on me!” says Mr. Blue.
“We’re not the problem. We have money! She’s just after our money. Always was. She’s just mad she didn’t get anything.” says his wife.
Lacey considers the story honestly with a tender heart. They don’t understand that and assume her empathy is instead an admission of guilt. The psychics reading her can’t tell the difference…but just know she’s mulling something troubling around in her head.
“It…happens…every…time.” says a psychic. “They leap to huge conclusions based on her ability to truly contemplate things introspectively.”
“That’s why you don’t rely on your ego or psychic readings to run a country.” says Summertime Sadness.
Russia laughs. “They do understand some things you possibly don’t though. Be careful.”
“Russia isn’t God. And I’m not either.” says Louis.
“So you’re the bunny boiler…Mr. Blue.” says the wizard matter-of-factly. “And your wife.”
“Well…did she have a crush on you or the way your makeup artist made you look?” asks a perfume hater. “And your other helpers.” She thinks. “I don’t think it was ever about money or sex. I think she just totally misunderstood you.”
“Like…we are extremely attractive though. In person. Not just on camera or in pictures.” says his wife.
“Is your husband gay?” asks the sitcom actor of Mrs. Blue. He shrugs. “Or queer?”
“Yes!” yells Michael.
“Huh. So…who do you channel again? Considering who’s available nearby?” the actor asks.
Michael coughs.
“I have a feeling Lacey and Lem and Michael were all better looking in person.” says a man.
“Me too.” says Zelda. “Certain angles and lights actually make a difference with certain people. That’s not a trick. It’s a cheat.”
“Why can’t you understand she didn’t know it wasn’t me? If it’s all supernatural? Why? Why do you cling so to that lie?” asks Michael.
Jack grins. “Television. It’s my bitch.”
“You were handsome though.” says Joe.
“I looked better on television.” he says. “My lies are easy to miss. For a camera. Her beauty is baffling.”
“But I wouldn’t have been baffled. So…was I gay? Lem wasn’t. Was I?” asks Michael.
A demon tries to stop Lacey’s heart.
“Mr. Blue, you may have channeled ghosts in Purgatory against their will.” says a Pope.
“Why would God allow that?!” asks Mr. Blue with self-righteous suspicion.
“Michael I don’t think you were gay.” says a perfume hater. “And I think Mr. Blue wanted to get narcissistically high by snubbing you.”
“I’d love to know how his snub functions. It’s never logically made sense to me.“ says Lacey.
“Because he has more money!” says Lisa, dead.
“But how does that social gadget work?” asks Lacey. “He had to bizarrely attack me with the flipping Illuminati to snub me? How does that work?”
“And I’m guessing you tried to psychically sleep with her?!?!” asks Summertime Sadness of Mr. Blue. “You really snubbed her!”
“Wow!!! Dude! Why?” asks a lesbian of Mr. Blue.
“Because I wouldn’t respect her. I’d use her! …She’d be obsessed with me! …And I’m not impressed by her dead boyfriend’s money or power…or even the father who abandoned her. …I’m not impressed by her ex-husband. Or the imaginary oil!! It’s imaginary!” says Mr. Blue in his spirit. “I have soo much. And I just wanted her to feel inferior for once. The way she wants to make people feel inferior. She has so much dignity. It’s annoying!”
“But men found her attractive like Marilyn Monroe in your crowd. And things got out of hand. Huh?” asks the lesbian.
“She’s curvy. And gorgeous. …Eew.” he says possibly seriously.
Silence.
“I think a woman’s breasts should be perfectly propped up and put in front with the most appropriate amount of effect. Like a…Barbie or a model.” says Mr. Blue. “My mistress had the proper breasts. Very elite.”
“Like who?” asks Michael.
Mr. Blue rolls his eyes. “Like…not like the grandmotherly Sophia Loren. That’s ewww like Lacey. Ewww!” he says. “I mean I guess Marilyn was okay.” He shrugs. “But I’m more into like…models.”
“Like J. Crew models?” asks a man.
“They look perfect. Yes!” says Mr. Blue.
Jack tries to contain himself.
“So…you…like…perfection?” asks an actress of Mr. Blue.
“With breasts.” says Mr. Blue. “And no, not what was cool in 1923. Now! Like…I’m too rich to like that old stuff.” He thinks. “It’s just old.”
“So Lacey Rockefeller refuses to be snubbed?” asks a perfume hater.
“Lacey Billings.” says Michael.
“Or Lacey Banks.” says Louis.
“Why does Lacey Banks keep snubbing you snubbing her?” asks Joe Jr. seemingly sincerely.
“Come on! You don’t care about her! She’s so far beneath us.” says Mr. Blue to Joe Jr..
“And you want me to indefinitely patrol her to make sure no man falls in love with her. Like Michael? Or Louis or Lem?” asks Joe Jr. “Because if even lowly-Lem loves her…Lacey Banks might get the idea that she’s mildly important in some way in this fallen world?”
“I don’t believe in Christianity anymore. But okay.” says Mr. Blue indignantly.
“Okay what, Joe?” asks Joe Jr. of Mr. Blue.
“What if Joe was just straight and not bizarrely attracted to women? And his parents just…misunderstood?” asks someone out of the blue. “Did Jack misunderstand too and think he had to become a predator to outdo Joe?”
“I like women!” says Mr. Blue, indignantly.
“Sometimes?” asks Lacey.
He shrugs. “Yeah?” He grows angry. “Why can’t you handle how much wealthier I am than you?!” he asks self-righteously. “I know you’d find me attractive if you only had been accepted by me.”
“I only-I don’t think you have that quite right.” says Lacey. “Why am I bothered by your wealth in your mind? What makes you think I care that much? What am I doing to give you that impression?”
“You just seem…upset.” he says. “And I think that’s why.”
Wasted Acres plays.
Later.
“That’s not why.” says Lacey. “I don’t think I am bothered by people having more than I do financially.” She thinks. “And I don’t get jealous.”
“But I’m not wrong!” says Mr. Blue.
“So you’re straight? Perfect? And never wrong?” asks Summertime Sadness.
“Yes.” says Mr. Blue as if he’s in on a joke at someone else’s expense.
“Did they have you programmed to think that? Like…are you being controlled?” asks Summertime Sadness.
“I’m not necessarily always straight.” he says.
“Oh wow! Okay. That’s…weird!” says Summertime Sadness.
“Whatever!” says Mr. Blue.
“So you read people?” asks a friend of Summertime Sadness.
“Yes. They train us to.” he says.
“Why?” they ask.
“To help them control people.” says Mr. Blue.
“How in the world is that helpful?” asks Lacey.
“They’re my audience. Reading them helps them. I’m not sure why you don’t get it?” he asks.
September by Sparky Deathcap plays.
“They’re using you. To do what?” asks Lacey.
“To get richer!” says his wife.
“From where?” asks Lacey.
“From the great wellspring of the American people.” says his wife.
“Who have an indefinite amount of endless money.” says Lacey sarcastically. “When was the last time that was actually true?”
“1974.” says Louis. “Or let’s see. No. 1908?”
“I bet it was more like 1920.” says Lacey.
“Why 1920?” asks a billionaire in the Illuminati of Lacey.
“It’s my humble opinion we need evidence. We need real resources to back-up our Dollars. Not necessarily gold. Or silver. But stuff.” she says. “It’s reality. Deal with it!” She thinks. “We haven’t had excess stuff for what? Almost a hundred years?”
“Like water, trees, land, etc.?” he asks. “Alright!” he says, indignantly.
“Health. Time. A psychological framework that isn’t useless and toxic?” asks Michael.
“You’re bankrupt. Or you wouldn’t need to be so greedy.” says Lacey.
“Actually, she’s right.” says Cornelius. “Fear of poverty or failure is huge motivating factor in greed.” He sighs. “Humiliating. Isn’t it?” He smiles. “That’s why hatred for Michael and Lacey is so popular and children are sold and molested.” He laughs. “Being a toothless, perverse, foul whore leaves you feeling kinda…ugly.”
“Which makes you grumpy.” says Tommy Banks.
“So you attack Lacey. Because she’s the only one who benefits and doesn’t seem…tawdry. Or poor. Or weak. Same with children.” says J. D.. “You resent her role.”
“‘She’s expensive.’ is what Mr. Blue said repeatedly. And it’s just that. He can’t afford her. Because he’s genetically shit.” says Michael. “He physically can’t be me. It’s impossible. …There’s nothing you can ever do. …That’s why they loved it. In the 1800’s. It’s…harsh…but so effective.” He thinks. “Americans don’t know how to handle that. But it is really true. She’d never-“ He pauses.
“She’d never ever?” asks a conservative journalist.
“No. Not really.” says Michael.
“Can anyone?” asks the conservative journalist.
“Some, maybe. But Lacey can’t.” says Michael.
“Why?” asks a victim.
“Because she knows better.” says Michael. “People can be fooled. But…the more people try to fool you or the Devil does directly…as a Christian it gets harder to be fooled because you figure out the truth eventually or you die. And she rarely gives herself to anyone in that way other than God.”
Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays. The song not the video.
“But God isn’t your lover.” says Summertime Sadness.
“Neither is her father in Heaven.” says Tommy Banks. “God is her Father in Heaven. …Does that make sense? …Our parents love us. As parents. It’s entirely non-sexual. But babies spend nine months in their mother’s womb. And it affects them. …They live inside of their mother.”
“It affects their brains.” says Al Capone. He taps his head. “I bet it affects all of them, actually.”
“So…your parents have an enormous power over your creation.” says Tommy Banks. “And that’s the reason they get to parent you. They parent you to start with and then that’s supposed to continue on that way.” He sighs. “But a significant other becomes you. They don’t create you. They become you.”
“Flesh of my flesh?” asks Mr. Blue, rolling his eyes.
“But what if it’s true? And she can’t be with you? Or anyone not good enough?” asks Michael.
“I snubbed her!” Mr. Blue says.
“Are you sure?” asks Michael.
“What if…I wasn’t good enough?” asks Joe Jr.. “What if…Lem was? What if…God was giving me grace. And…you totally messed that up? …But I already had too, anyway?”
“What if people’s survival rested on her being happy in life? And she literally prayed to die in her sleep at age 28?” asks Michael. “‘Oh!! But that was her fault! Eww! She was mentally-ill!’” He scoffs. “That was her former stepmother in-law’s response. She wanted Lacey to be a gold-digger to feel less like a stupid hick. …Is that what you’re afraid of? That she’ll poison you? Genetically? …Then…just die off. Or no! No, without her you Mr crap genes of flat asses and shit brains, and huge pig noses, and sausage fingers, and narcissistic personality traits will survive and thrive. Her exquisite beauty and sensitivity and passion driven to insanity is her fault.” He seethes. “Ever driven a car off a cliff and then blamed the car? Because that’s your logic.”
“Isn’t mental-illness a sign of inferior genes?” asks an Asian woman of Michael.
“There are different kinds of mental-illness. There’s the kind that makes you declare yourself superior when you look like a pig and act like a demon and then there’s the kind that makes you vulnerable to that creature…who God still loves anyway.” says Michael. “The former is wretched. I have no use for it. The latter is…tragic. And hopefully can be managed.”
“Yup! And that’s what Lacey doesn’t understand.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater.
“Are you sure most people do? Consciously?” asks Michael. “You understand the brutality of genetics being from the American south. But that’s gone out of fashion. Extremely so. …And I suspect Mr. Blue either secretly thinks he’s shit objectively for genetic reasons Democrats lie about. Or he didn’t realize how important it was to understand this about your psychology.” says Michael to The Loudest Perfume Hater.
“That I’m racist?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.
Lighthouse by Patrick Watson plays.
“And you my dear, were his lighthouse.” Michael says to The Loudest Perfume Hater. “How dare Lacey be so…superior feeling to you! No! You should be held up spiritually as a guiding light. …Whatever witchcraft you dabbled in…you didn’t ask for that much responsibility? Did you?”
“No.” says The Loudest Perfume Hater. “I did not.”
“We do need more resources.” says an Elon.
“Of course.” says Lacey. “But that’s absurd. So…now what? Create more resources? Or…reassess that whole premise? I do the latter.”
“But just casually chatting…how does that not lead to population control?” he asks, yawning.
“Just kicking it: why? Is there a need to create a resource supply or…is that focusing too much on a world we’ve already destroyed?” asks Lacey.
“So space or the supernatural?” he asks.
“Yes. I suppose. But…that was also England.” says Lacey.
“But they went around conquering the world?” a Elon asks.
“True. It’s not about losing. It’s about your focus.” says Lacey. “It’s where you place the horizon line.”
“So for King and country? Not a dream?” asks an Englishman.
“Yes! It’s about stability. And enjoying life. Before Heaven. Not…pushing something somewhere unknown for mysterious reasons endlessly.” says Lacey.
“So to you, the American economy is based on the same psychology as the life of a hamster?” asks a lesbian witch laughing with pleasant but patronizing misogyny.
“Yes. Unless they accept their cage and run to relax and enjoy their surroundings while they’re alive.” says Lacey.
A mouse who died in Lacey’s house smiles.
“Why is he smiling?” asks a black man.
“Because he loved that house. It was fun. Even alone. After the other mice died. He had fun.” says God? “It was an innocent smile.”
“Dang, boy! Jealous of a mouse? Because you knew that. Didn’t you? And now the mouse is dead. …So you killed fish?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater of Mr. Blue.
Young plays.
“A clean, huge emerald cut emerald? Dangling out in the street?” asks a wife. “Weird. Far too weird. …And then your reaction is to say it’s fake?”
“A group like them was bound to try to steal the gem and when they couldn’t sell it…try to destroy it.” says another wife.
“And yet…it keep’s popping up. Over and over.” says the first wife.
“You think we need God, essentially.” says a billionaire to Lacey.
“Yes. And actually that’s where the whole Anti-Christ thing comes in, possibly. Right?” asks Lacey. “Like, a society needs a God. And that’s dangerous.”
“And we’ve created a vacuum effect by denying that for so long?” he asks.
“Yes!” says Lacey. “We aren’t mice. We can’t be.”
“But if I had to choose between being a hamster and a free mouse who dies in a trap? Or freezes? I’d choose the life of a mouse!” says Lem. “And America was supposed to be about that freedom. …So how did we become hamsters in cages? Or grown men who, in their darkest moments, envied hamsters for their freedom?”
“Lem was gay! I own you! It doesn’t matter that you don’t recall it and it might never have even happened or it’s fake. I do! I know!” says Mr. Blue.
“That’s insane.” says Lacey. “And God is more powerful.”
“So you never loved me. You just thought you did?” he asks.
“No. Not…likely. I’m sorry.” says Lacey.
“No. You fooled her.” says Tommy Banks.
“He was never available!” says Mrs. Blue.
“For marriage or in an open marriage?” asks Lacey.
“The former.” she says.
“Why did it seem like that then?” asks Lacey.
“Because she ruined our marriage.” Mr. Blue says.
“So then how were you not available?” asks Lacey.
“It wasn’t that ruined.” says Mrs. Blue.
“It had just run amok? It wasn’t dead.” reiterates Lacey.
“Oh! You’re for real?” she says.
“Yes. Yes?” Lacey looks worried. Bites her bottom lip.
“No, it was dead. …But we fixed it.” says Mr. blue smugly.
“So…I’m not sure why I’m the bad guy.” says Lacey with Michael’s translation assistance.
Mrs. Blue rolls her eyes. “Fine.” Then she makes a pass at Lem. Lacey analyzes it.
“Right. Because-“ says Lacey.
Mrs. Blue nods her head.
Lacey sighs. “No, they’re stealing demons attacking me. Claiming it’s me. Or some dumb thing like that. And it’s nice to see them go, but they think they own me. Because of the lies they premise their existence on, like the lies of an abuser.” Lacey explains to someone listening who worries Lacey is a pervert. Then, “I see what you mean. How was I supposed to know he wasn’t available if your marriage was dead?”
Mr. Blue rolls his eyes.
(Adult Content Below)
“If she was supposed to be a sacrifice…she’s paid. Me. Plenty. Am I a demon or Michael? …If that was a child sex slave…she’s not a listener. You are. And she should know I’m not a fool anyway. I’m just dead.” He laughs. “Not that kind of fool, anyhow.”
“Hamsters in cages.” says Lem.
“But we can’t use you.” a billionaire says to Michael. Hopefully not seriously.
“Hahahaha!” laughs Michael.
“You want us to literally smash your skulls in?” asks Elliott.
“From the grave?” asks a lesbian.
Mr. Blue laughs.
“Fine. You wouldn’t have known but we don’t care. My wife likes feeling morally superior.“ he says.
“I just feel like it’s never wise to try to rescue people.” says Mrs. Blue.
“Who are married?” asks Lem.
“It was none of your business.” she says to Lacey.
“That doesn’t work. It could have been my business.” says Lacey.
“Fine!!!” Mrs. Blue yells.
“Okay. Now what?” asks Mike.
“Have you apologized?” Mrs. Blue has a woman ask.
“To humiliate her for reasons of class? That’s it now?” asks Mr. Blue pretending to be Michael.
“Huh. Close. But you’re a peasant whore. Not a slave. And not Lacey.” says Michael to Mr. Blue.
“Fine! We…either screwed-up a sacrifice. Or we- We- We had confidence you’d die. And I decided I didn’t care because you didn’t care.” says Mrs. Blue to Lacey. “You didn’t care how much your beauty ruined my marriage. You slut! You piece of shit! How dare you not care that I’m ugly compared to you! …I have a hellish life being famous and ugly.”
“Except…it wasn’t about that in that way. And I did care.” says Lacey.
“You thought I was a rapist.” says Mrs. Blue.
“Yes. I thought he was way out of your league. And the psychology of what was presented looked suspicious.“ says Lacey.
National Anthem plays.
“You thought one of your people were being attacked.” she says. “But I didn’t rape him. I swear it was consensual in our case.” Mrs. Blue says strictly about Mr. Blue. “And I suppose if he channels Michael against his will…and you saw Michael and thought I was hurting Michael then…you…would have felt panicked.”
“Or Lem.” says Lem.
“Shit!” says Mr. Blue.
“She’s never thought about what it’d be like to be famous and ugly.” says Lem. “Because…she’s never been told she was beautiful the way Michael just did.”
“No! That’s true, Mrs. Blue.” says Michael.
“By anyone?!” asks the Native American woman.
“No.” says Michael. “God keeps track.”
“You know…don’t misunderstand Michael. It’s not that being ugly outside and loving God doesn’t count. That’s still a win. It’s just some people have better fortune and can move faster in the game than others. Being good and kind counts too. Big time.” Lacey says. “But that’s the thing. Every human can be saved. Through Christ. No matter how wretched.”
“Absolutely true!” says Michael.
“It was just painful to feel so…ugly.” says Mrs. Blue.
“I really thought you were essentially raping him.” says Lacey.
She shakes her head no.
“That’s hideous. I’m sorry.” says Lacey.
“What did you think I was experiencing?” asks Mrs. Blue.
“First, that’s not what I meant. I meant it’s a hideous situation you lived through. Secondly, hideous doesn’t begin to describe how awful that would feel. But…if I was you I’d just…accept it. …Because if he loved you truly, then your beauty is what would matter. And you have some. What other women have might be more or less…but they aren’t you so what does it matter?” Lacey says.
“And this is my beauty. What I do possess.” she says.
“Yes. That’s beautiful.” says Lacey.
“But no, I wasn’t tricking Mr. Blue with it or raping him with my mind.” says Mrs. Blue.
“People do sometimes though!” a woman says in Lacey’s defense.
“I’m sorry I thought you were raping Mr. Blue.” says Lacey to Mrs. Blue.
“And I was raped.” says Lem. “Or I’m a spirit claiming that.”
“I’m not Jack.” says Mrs. Blue.
“Okay, but if Jack was gay…umm…are you sure you don’t seem a tiny bit like that aesthetic?” asks a gay man.
The Quality Of Mercy plays.
“Why don’t I have any sympathy for you?” she asks Lacey.
“Do you?” asks Michael.
“Whatever. I’m tired of analyzing you. Sorry.” says Lacey. “I’m sorry. I’ve apologized so many times. And now in new ways. I don’t recall you apologizing once.” says Lacey. “Look, you obviously went through pain. I’m sorry. Truly.” says Lacey. “But…I didn’t think you knew what I thought of you, first of all. Not in this way… I didn’t know you were reading my thoughts. So I never imagined that emotional response in you. Why would I?” Lacey sighs. “Secondly, you seem confident. And I actually thought you were pretty until my ex said you weren’t. I see your flaws now. But I saw good photos of you. …I’m sorry I hadn’t analyzed the whole thing that well in general either because of the way people have treated me.” says Lacey.
The Theory Of Everything plays. And Mr. Hawking cries over Lacey’s life in disgust. The way a scientist cries over a failed grand design. Paint It, Black plays. Her life not her.
“So men lust over you but then lie about it?” asks Mrs. Blue.
“Seems so.” says Lacey in a facetious but accurate estimation.
“I was a coward. I was passionately romantic. And deep. …Morbidly deep. And Lacey wasn’t there. …Somehow Michael explains it. I’m not attracted to him or men in general, but he does express the idea.” says Lem.
“This is Michael’s real self and sexuality:
This is *Lem laughs* one the ways he hid. Like Lacey.
Why they reveal themselves only to each other…is something of sadly rare beauty. …They truly only meant to live for beauty.” Lem thinks. “It wasn’t just the Asmats that captured Michael unaware in photos. It was circumstance and God.” He thinks. “I shouldn’t have lied to Jack and let him think I wanted anything less than this. The profound longing. Embracing possible death with Christ mercifully giving you grace. …The passion for each other. The singular desire for the true otherThe otherworldly love…that one has when they want God to guide them towards whatever fate He so chooses.”
Richter: Mercy Duet plays.
“It sounds silly, but look at the real difference between those photos. It’s unusual. …And you can’t tell me she wouldn’t have seen him as at least the first.” Lem cries. “Naked.” He cries. “Michael! So nerdy. Right? Right, Jack?!? Isn’t that what you would have said? But he’s like a god. You never said how blue his eyes were. Or how thick his blond locks were. How sinewy and bold he was. Or focused on his brilliance or terrifying sensitivity. You never warned me about what it would look like. In all those dirty shows. The photos. Late night stories. You never warned me about what it would feel like to watch them. And I have. I have because I was a cowardly wretch who lied! Because I wanted you to like me and respect me as a man and a friend. …I wanted more than cheap shit. Fucking. Whatever that crap even is. You know more about that than most of us. You’re welcome!” He breaths. “I wanted what they could have had. I want…her. …And you-Do you have any idea how HORRIFIC it is to ask for that? FROM MICHAEL?!?! …Knowing nothing else will do. Nothing!!!” he weeps. “Thanks for all the worldly advice!!” he says
“I don’t think Lem accepted your offer.” Lacey says to Mrs. Blue.
“No!” says Lem. He apologizes for yelling but Lacey says lovingly declines.
“You could have stopped us.” says Michael.
“I felt rejected.” he says.
“But that’s not what was happening.” says Lacey.
“I know. You thought I’d already rejected you to infinity and back. And then back again. And then back…and etc..” says Lem. “And that’s just the problem. Michael made you incredibly happy. And I want to. But I didn’t love what he loved. And I have failed to love you the way you’ve needed.“. He cries. “I’m not going to apologize.” He smiles at her and they share that secret.
She worries. “I hate that film. But I love the idea in this context.”
“You should never have to apologize.” says Lem.
“Why?” asks Lacey.
“Because all you did was feel rejected.” says Lem.
“What was I experiencing?” asks Lacey.
“My insecurities.” says Lem. “If you could see me you’d know I wasn’t rejecting you. I was feeling…vulnerable. And you thought what? “
“You were cooling off or finding something wrong with me. Possibly running off with Jack?” says Lacey.
“In a way I was lusting after you instead of loving you. But I didn’t stop loving you.” says Lem.
“I’m sorry I misunderstood you.” says Lacey.
And at that Michael and Lacey cry as Lana Del Rey sings Old Money. They can’t deny their love. …He’s forcing them to face it.
“Some of those lyrics are genuinely offensive.” says Lacey. “And concerning-“
“But you two cried.” says Lem. “I didn’t play the song. But it made both of you cry.”
“Come on, Lem!” says a woman.
“Are you roasting us?” asks Michael.
“That’s what happens when you make love.” Lem says to Lacey. “Now what do I do with you two?”
“Do you want us to make love again?” asks Lacey.
“I’m seducing her. Right this second, Lem.” says Michael. “Can you see it?”
Quiet Crowd plays.
“That’s not us! That’s Michael and Lacey. Not me and Lacey. Totally different. Reminder: You just explained it so beautifully and you were right. You got it right, Lemmers.” jokes Joe Jr..
Michael and Lacey look guilty.
“She cried over me. I-I-“ Michael calms himself. “You’re asking a lot. But no, I outsmarted her. She’s not weak. She’s-She needs me. And you’re busy explaining our love? …No, she’s not some chick in a girlie magazines.” Michael says throwing his chair.
“And yet she loves me more.” says Lem in shock. “I’m sorry, Lacey. I’m sorry, Michael.”
“But…what the Hell!? I’ll let you decide.” starts Lacey to Lem. Lem grows nauseated. “What would make the happiest eternity? The hottest sex imaginable ever with a glorious man who’s done nothing but love you? The best man you’ve ever met? …A Rockefeller with the depth and brilliance of a an artistic genius. Who sacrificially loves you like no man ever has before. …Or a cold, painful, piece of your own soul who you may actually genuinely belong to far more rightfully? I mean…I could follow God and let Him decide. But I’m curious to hear your input too. Please respond with intelligent responses only.”
“Are we Swedenborgian when we read this or New Age?” asks a gay man jokingly.
A Catholic cracks-up laughing. “Depends on your interpretation of scripture.”
“Okay. Thanks for the clarification!” says the gay man.
“Yeah, I know.” says Summertime Sadness in serious contrition.
“Well, we’d all love to know too someday in an appropriate manner.” says the gay man.
“He might not be gay.” says Lem. “Or bisexual.”
“Theoretically possibly true, in Heaven?” says the gay man. “But…we’ll leave that to God.”
“I’d like an apology for making me listen to that crap.” Lem says to Lacey.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“I don’t want to make you have to apologize. And I have.” he says.
“So should I or not?” asks Lacey.
“No! Please. Stop worrying you’re going to offend me with the truth. …I know you love him.” says Lem.
“But I want to only belong to one man.” says Lacey.
“But I do love you.” says Lem mournfully of Lacey’s pain in life.
“Like you loved Jack?” asks Lacey.
And at that Michael French kisses Lacey on the mouth in the lobby of Lem’s 1960’s NYC apartment. Then he forces her to a sofa where he almost loses himself. He doesn’t. Instead he stands-up in shock.
Lem laughs. So Michael laughs. Lacey feels terrible.
“No, of course not like Jack, dear.” Lem says, truly mocking himself. He bites his lip. “Dammit!”
“Well, Michael I’d ask you to come up and see us. But that’s out of the question for Lacey, I’m sorry. And I’m genuinely not attracted to men.” says Lem. He laughs. “Not that it’s me you’d ever have wanted to see anyway.”
“Alright! I’m going to lay down! Whoever God allows to pick me up and carry me off is fine by me. I’m exhausted from playing referee. It’s absolute bullshit!” says Lacey.
—-
Keen to Cross the Pond 
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