Last night Lacey fell asleep with Lem. They just quickly dozed off.
And Michael sat in the corner of the room watching. Knees pulled up to his chest.
And he cried. Silently.
It’s one of Lacey’s worst fears.
Michael is glorious. And he does get scared. He dares to sit in a corner of her room room…silently crying. He dares to be that profoundly sad over Lacey…openly. Not because he doesn’t care…but because he is strong.
Of course she didn’t find out about until this morning.
*cough cough* “That’s bad dude.” says a hippie to Mr. Blue.
The loving hippies are…amused. Never did they imagine seeing mainstream Liberals so resembling the worst aspects of American Christianity. They imagine Mr. Blue as akin to the worship leader of a mega church standing behind an electric piano. He bounces and bends with the flow of the music to try to bring up the mood. …They imagine that at his best…he flows with something glorious or better like the Holy Spirit in the church. But at his worst…he lies.
High By The Beach by Lana Del Rey plays.
At his worst Mr. Blue gets pushy. He gets…aggressive and desperate to affect his followers. To play on their emotions and produce results…
But…Michael isn’t God. And if God says Lem is Lacey’s soulmate…Michael has something and someone better for him. It’s just…she isn’t Lacey. And he loved Lacey. He loved her…problems. They were fun problems to solve.
“I’m just imagining if you took me, as a ghost in God’s hands, back to the times I was in love with my ex-wife. And…asked me to reimagine her life going forward. Give her life some improvements. …And we reconnected. And were really happy.” says Thirsten. “What…in the world are you people thinking?! This isn’t-You can’t keep causing huge amounts of chaos and expect good results.”
In response:
“It’s just Lacey.” says Mr. Blue.
“Lem is gay.” says the gay man from last night. “He’s our Cinderella.”
“We still win!” say a group in the they of the Illuminati.
…”Well…maybe.” a few say to Lord Thirsten Snotgrass.
…
“The problem is…we…if I’m a ghost…are one.” says Lem about Lacey.
“Lem…does Lacey even care if you were gay? Should you be Lem.” says a Christian Boomer.
“If I’m in love with her more than Jack or anyone…and I’m best for her and she’s best for me…and I’m not gay now.” He laughs. “No!” He looks sad. “She never did in the first place. It was just mysterious to her.”
The woman sighs. “Lem, that’s bad.”
“I know!” he says as he nods his head. “I might have actually been straight though.”
The woman nods, dumbfounded. “How do they not understand? If they’re just wrong…they’re forcing us to brutally destroy their delusion.”
“I think a lot of it goes back to social class anxiety in the American upper class.” says a British woman. “They can’t stand Lacey. She’s too terrible.”
“And the narcissistic people in the perfume community who impersonated the upper class in America to feel elite…were the canary in the coal mine when they attacked Lacey. …Not a collective lighthouse.” says the Christian woman.
“But is it just Lacey? Or is she weirdly dangerous?” asks Lem.
“It’s just Lacey.” says Mr. Blue. “And that’s why I’m not too worried. …It’s just Lacey. No big deal?”
“Wait, Lem what do you mean?” asks an English witch.
“I’m just saying…you all are just worried over nothing.” says Lem. “America is too stubborn, if I know anything about America, to ever collapse and cease to exist over one person. Much less someone like Lacey.” He scoffs. “She’s just a bitch, annoying, mousy-trash housewife. Right?”
“That’s not what we think of her! That’s you imagining things.” says a Boomer actress.
“Which is why you came on to him the other night?” asks Michael.
“I didn’t put out. I wasn’t a tiny bit interested.” says Lem. “Is that where the gay dude came from? Because I find you ugly?”
“Yes! She was hot in the 1970’s!” says the gay man.
“I was alive in the 1970’s… …I’m not sure what happened to your brain, but it’s sad.” says Lem.
“These are Hollywood elite!” says a film producer. “I’m elite. You’re supposed to find them intimidating and awe-inspiring and sexy.”
“I wasn’t coming on to you.” says the Boomer actress to Lem.
“It felt like it. But you thought you were being so clever?” says Lem.
A non-pedophilic Millennial father imagines a girl his daughter’s age coming on to him someday long into the future when they’re adults using her own stuff. Like…how is it not gross and offensive? And funny, to be honest.
“It’s like. ‘Yo, asshole? You like the juice?’ as she holds up her juice box.” he says laughing.
“That’s a joke ordinary pedophiles can’t understand. Be sensitive to those less fortunate.” says the gay man without intended humor.
“Ordinary pedophiles?“ asks Thirsten, aghast.
“Wait…is she just asking about the juice or is it an innuendo?” asks Mr. Blue.
“It’s just juice.” says the man who told the joke. “No innuendo.”
“They feel…ordinary now.” says the gay man. “They’re my sunshine neighbors. Or nevermind if you’re not a normie I’m trying to bullshit.”
“Umm…you guys…she’s not going to be nice. She’s nice but you’ve declared war on her. And that’s…” says Summertime Sadness.
“I’m innocent. We’re innocent. We’re her victims. All of my friends and I. We…are good. And innocent. And good. And innocent…” says Mr. Blue.
“Are those her actual words? Or is she reading you?” asks Summertime Sadness.
“She’s reading us.” says Mr. Blue.
“So that’s how dumb you actually are. And I bet sometimes you say other things.” says a Boomer.
“Why…does she matter? If I had the Illuminati stalking my brain I’d be confused.” says a male Boomer.
“I get confused too. Daily.” says Lacey.
“No, no, no!” say the demons that worked and work with the Kennedy’s to Lacey. “You are ugly, trashy and vile. Shut-up!!!!”
“She’s a Brit.” says Michael to the demons.
“And a monarchist.” says a dead monarchist.
“Make me King!” says Joe Jr..
The demons smile. “That’s what we always intended.” they say.
“But she’s Queen then.” says Joe Jr..
“No!!! That’s not right. Jack was King.” they say.
“Bobby was almost King.” they add.
Poor Jack loses it and starts dancing like a fool to the music with the demons. “I won!!!!”
“She’s a Brit.” says Michael.
“No, she isn’t!” says Jack.
“Why not?” asks Michael.
Jack stares.
West Coast by Lana Del Rey plays.
“Because that’s what she is in some way, Jack.” says a Gen Z woman.
“She can’t exist!!!” he screams.
“Why, Jack?” asks Mary.
He manifests his demons. Screeches.
“Is it Lem?” asks Mary.
“Yes and no.” he says.
“Is it Joe?” asks Rocky.
“It’s all of it.” says Jack. “But yes! Of course. She wins!!! Just…like my brother!” he spits.
Lacey seems this entire time to have failed to realize this is about her. But…unlike Buster I’m Arrested Development who is clearly labeled Lacey is more Lem. Or Michael. Or Harold. …It’s comical, at its best. Buster isn’t an idiot. At all, really. He’s just…Buster.
“Could a female Buster have married Joe Jr.?” asks a Boomer.
“Was Jackie a bit of a Buster?” asks another Boomer.
“Not necessarily?” wonders Lacey sweetly.
“I even looked like Buster.” says Lem.
“Jack…why Lem?” asks a lesbian actress.
“Because he’s hot.” says Jack. “Or I thought he was.”
“So is Michael.” says an English actress.
Jack gets a migraine. He leans forward and rubs his forehead. He licks his lips.
“I was hot. But…so effeminate.” he says. “When Lacey was younger I had her attention. But as she’s aged she’s lost all interest. …Men like Lem keep her attention now.” He looks up at Lacey. “Why didn’t you see it before?”
“Because you really are unusually handsome. It wowed me at first.” says Lacey.
“But then I seem too ladylike?” he asks her.
“Before I got married, I would have thought you really had something. But your inability to make love to a woman…is…not attractive.” says Lacey. “And I can sense that. That you’re all talk and no show.” She thinks. “Could you consistently get one woman off for a year even?”
He looks at her.
“Lacey, that’s not important!” say a group of American women seriously.
“Why not?” asks Louis.
“Because men don’t need to be able to do that. They don’t even need to orgasm themselves.” say the American women.
Michael laughs. He cackles.
Jack cries.
“Why are you crying?! You were possibly gay?!” asks Lacey to be comforting.
He collects himself.
“Wait!!! Is she the only voice of reason left?!” asks a Millennial. “We literally silenced them so much…and we’re left with Buster as our only resource?!” He thinks. “And we can’t stand her. Because she’s funny. But it isn’t intended. …And that makes her what? Complicated. And mysterious. …And it makes her entire generation, should she be Lacey Banks in Heaven, normal. Good.” He seethes. “We can’t just blindly hate them anymore, Boomers.”
“She’s not an idiot though. She fully saw the humor in her own name.” says Joe Jr. smiling.
“That’s a very defiant name.” says a Brit. “She’s shoving it all in our adult faces.” She thinks. “I think the English don’t find Buster as…shocking. We know Buster better than you?”
“True.” says Desmond.
“I think Buster is a sad character.” says Lutin.
“He is.” says Lacey.
…”Jack…was Lem like you?” asks the somewhat conservative young American man.
“Maybe?” he says.
“Maybe? Tell me more brother.” he responds, aggressively.
Jack looks awkward. “I don’t play with boys like you.” he says. He smiles.
“You don’t play?!” he asks.
“I get sick.” he says. He coughs.
“Oh, I don’t want to play with you. I want to beat the living shit out of you and smart ass.” he says.
Jack cries. “No! You can’t. My dad won’t let you.”
“Your dad? Where is he?!” he asks.
“I dunno. He runs the world. What does your dad do? He’ll kill you if you lay a hand on me.” Then he winks.
“I bet someone is holding your daddy back. Time to cut the apron strings? …What makes you think I’m a faggot like you?” he responds. “I could shove my fist up your ass, but you wouldn’t like it.”
“I’m not afraid of you?” Jack says.
“Oh yes you are, you lying piece of shit!” says the young man. And at that he punches Jack in the face. Jack’s nose bleeds.
And at that Jack cries like a teenage girl.
“You’re mean!” Jack says between sobs.
“Didn’t Lem literally kill you the other day?” asks the young man.
“Yes! But he’s a real fag!” says Jack. “You can’t take anything he does or says seriously.” He sobs, snot and blood pouring.
“You’re not going to die again, Jack. It’s just a nose bleed.” says the guy. “And your nose should be fine.”
Jack holds his nose, breaths through his mouth.
“You can’t tell them who I really am. If this is the real me.” says Jack.
“Even in 2023?!” the guy asks in shock.
“I’m a sexy-straight. If this is me…I acted constantly just as much as Lem did.” he says. “It’s not complicated. Just let it go! My legacy still matters to me.”
“But it was a hoax.” says that conservative young man.
Softcore by The Neighbourhood plays.
“Joe was your only true king. Right?!” asks the conservative. “And your father lived in denial after he died.”
“I was supposed to be that too.” says Jack.
“But you aren’t and weren’t, buddy.” says the young man. “You’re not king.”
“And I think Lem likes pussy.” says a conservative cool-girl, emerging.
Jack seethes.
“I don’t need you guys!!” he says.
“You don’t need us? For what?” asks the young woman. “For what, Jack?”
He looks at them.
“Who are you people?!” he asks.
“We’re conservatives, Jack.” they say.
He panics. “Where? Who? What state?”
“Most of the Midwest, the South. But there are pockets of us everywhere.” says the guy.
“I never really knew people like you.” he says, thoughtfully. “My father was very protective. So was my mom. They let me think I was the bad guy everywhere. The entire Earth’s somewhat evil superhero.”
“But you did well in WWII?” asks a Catholic.
“Yeah. I had help though.” he admits.
“Did Lem?” the Catholic asks.
“No. We didn’t help him-“ says Jack.
“During the war.” corrects Joe Jr..
“Jack…we’re wondering: were you just gay?” asks a Satanist.
“And the rest is spin?” he asks. “And my desperate attempts to be strong.”
“I wasn’t gay or bisexual either.” says Scott. “As in, you’ve misunderstood me too. Not just Lem.”
“For the record.” says Zelda.
“But don’t you both look gay?” asks a Boomer if Scott.
“Did Zelda look bisexual? Or Hemingway?” asks Scott. “Harold is brilliant too, by the way. Did you catch that?”
“He’s not just a Jewish fool.” says Lily Schiel. Shiel?
“I was basically gay.” says Jack. “I got over women because I never really wanted them in the first place most of the time. I was almost entirely gay.”
“So you were Lem’s complete opposite?” asks a Liberal.
“Yes?” he responds. “I essentially held him hostage psychologically, and to some degree otherwise too.”
“We used Lem. Endlessly. And fed into his gay self-perception and act.” says Jean. “I think dad knew it wasn’t real.”
“It was for Jack’s sake.” says Joe Sr..
“Well…it’s unclear how accurate this is. Or who’s even reading it.” Lacey says. “This is a stretch for me. I worry it’s not fully accurate.” She thinks. “Thinking their roles were purposefully reversed to get political power and that Lem was actually just straight…genuinely shocks me. It always has. Since I first heard it.”
“And what does it make you think?” asks Lutin.
“That I’m sick of this country existing.” says Lacey. “I just want it to become England again.”
“Or Canada?” asks Canada.
“No. It’s-I can’t stand it. You’re such-“ she stops herself. “Maybe we can fight the Civil War again? With different sides. Or just dissolve the Democratic Party forever? You’re such cheap, shitty liars.”
“And that’s if she’s innocent, Lem is straight and Jack is gay. Can you process that? Or do you get lost?”
“I don’t.” says Lutin.
“We serve a purpose though.” says a Hillary.
“Fair enough. But I can’t stand this country. It’s obnoxious. It’s like permanently living in Jack’s fart. And being fascist-forced into worshiping it with my whole essence and then sacrifice my kids to it.” says Lacey. “And when it bothers me and I show it I get violently abused from the inside out.”
The Skakels spiritually grab those in their party remaining. And make a cool exit.
“They look great, Ethel.” says one of her ancestors. “Very pretty and handsome.”
…
Sail (Unlimited Gravity Remix) plays.
“I love Jack! Jack is the-“ the living gay man loses himself. “Jack is…like…one of those straight guys who really are straight.” He touches himself and dances. “He’s so hot. But then you look at Jackie and think. Nah.” He grows flustered. “And I…know I shouldn’t. But…I tempt him. With my body.” He fans himself. “And I’m sure he’s going to say no. As virile, and Catholic, and sexy as he is. Fucking all those hot chicks like Marilyn.” He sighs. “But once I flash him my ass in a thong…he gets hard and we have sex. And he’s mine forever.”
“Why is your ass so…powerful? Turning a straight man gay?” asks Louis.
“It just is.” he says.
“Does he cheat?” asks Lacey.
He thinks. “No! Not on me.” He thinks more. “I’m really different and unique.”
“How?” asks Lacey.
“Because…I just am.” he says. “I don’t know. You figure it out.”
“What if he still sleeps around, demands you let him destroy your mind and life and still passionately and willingly fuck him?” asks Lacey.
“That’s-no-I can do that.” he says. “If Lem can. So can I!” He fumes. “Lem was gay.”
“Tell me about that happy, healthy, sexy life?” asks Lacey. “That exciting, monumental life?”
“You’re Cinderella, bitch. Let’s hear about it.” says Lem.
Beautiful by Snoop Dogg plays.
“We have sex on the weekend.” he says smiling.
“Do you have any self-respect left?” asks Lacey.
“I understand.” he says.
“Then why do you babysit his kids, wash his shitty laundry, clean his house, mow his lawn, manicure his nails, get paid through being owned…like a slave…and then suck his dick on demand? Like…why? Do you date other men to try to get away? But it doesn’t work?” asks Lem.
“No. I don’t date anyone else.” he says.
“Oh yes, you do.” says Lem. “And if not…why do people say you did?”
“People don’t-I didn’t. And if I did it was for Jack. He wanted me to.” he says.
“Do you get happiness out of being an abused sex slave? Bit of a come down from your uber-confident, sexy start?” asks Lacey.
“Yes! I do. I love it.” he says.
Beautiful starts over again.
“So you’re lobotomized?” asks Lacey.
“I let him drill holes in my brain for love. I’m still Cinderella, bitch.” he says.
“Are you sure he loves you?” asks an intellectual.
“Yes! I’m sure!!” he says, his breathing quickening.
“What happens when he beats you near your death several times high on meth?” asks Louis.
“Why would he do that?” asks the gay man.
“You didn’t get him off right, shawty.” says Summertime Sadness.
“But I tried.” he says.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s not happy with you for some reason you can’t help.” says Lacey.
“He loves you just for being you?” asks Lem.
“Yup. He does.” he says.
“What part of your soul does he love?” asks Lacey.
“My inner-child.” laughs the gay man.
“How so?” asks Lacey.
“He-we have matching shirts!” he says.
“That he bought? Or you bought?” asks Lacey.
“He bought? Because he controls everything.” he says.
“So he loves your inner child or abuses you by tapping into your deepest fears and vulnerabilities?” asks Lacey.
“More the latter to be honest.” he says.
“Are you in an abusive relationship and need to get out?” asks Lacey.
“Yup! And you know…it’d be ironic if I wasn’t even gay.” he says.
“Yeah. But you are?” asks Lacey.
“Yes. For now. You know…I….think I can find another Prince Charming.” he says.
“Not a loser who gets rejected or has flaws like me?” asks Michael.
“No. He has to be glorious. Like Rock Hudson. But with old-money.” he says.
“I never found Rock Hudson all that appealing.” says Lacey. “But he seems…handsome, smart and possibly nice?”
“Why?” he asks.
“There was something cold and untouchable about him. Not cold as in mean, but I didn’t know either way.” says Lacey.
Later.
“I don’t want to hear about your sex life, mom!” says a Boomer to Lacey.
“She’s 40 and you’re how old? 70?” asks Lem.
“And you’re stalking her.” says Michael.
“Things don’t have to make sense anymore. We are better than that.” he says.
“Do all Boomers think like you?” Lacey asks.
“No. I’m a liberal elite genius.” he says with wrath.
“Why are all Democrats suddenly so stupid?!” asks an actress.
…
“Okay. Have a good day.” says Lacey.
Keen to Cross the Pond 
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