Category Archives: Journal

Jack stole…Lem.

*boom*

But…the trouble is…if Lem was straight…he had no business doing it. It was a heinous thing to steal from another human being who wasn’t even there to defend herself.

Sure Thing by Miguel plays.

“Jack why did you do that? Huh?” asks a witch.

“Why is it such a big deal?” he asks.

“Because you mimicked her actual real needs, Jack.” says Bernie Madoff. He seethes. “You stole her soul. And fucked her soulmate in the ass.” He fumes. “Her soul, Jack. Her soul.”

Chemtrails Over The Country Club plays.

“And now she’s stuck with me.” says Michael. “Because I spit in your ugly, cheap, shitty, Irish-freckled, fuck-face.” he says before punching Jack in the nose. “You wanna sup on my dick, you ugly, corny, dumb…jealous little bitch?”

“This is interesting.” says Bernie. He quickly chews his gum. Realizes he’s…in the position of moral authority. …It’s not what he expected. At all.

“Bernie, do you care?” someone asks as he commands thugs to continually beat Jack to a bloody pulp until Lem can kill him himself by strangulation or let Lacey go. For eternity.

“I shouldn’t do it myself. It’s not mine to enjoy.” says Michael.

“Ours either. Unfortunately.” say Harold and Louis.

“Actually, I do care.” says Bernie. “Do you care?” he asks.

“That’s debatable.” says Desmond watching the spectacle with the others on a golf cart.

“Did you ever molest anyone?” a Gen Z guy asks Jack.

“Possibly.” says Louis. “But that’s not the point, cupcake.”

“What is the point?” asks the Gen Z guy.

“He stole her soul. If Lem had been non-straight, or if he’d been able to understand her massive pain right now…this wouldn’t be happening. But Jack…stole…a lot.” says Louis. “And you all think it’s the Kennedy way to fuck Lacey yo the ass, against her bloody screams now. To get rich. To get pretty. To get love. To get whatever the hell you want.” He thinks. “Lem is in God’s grace. But…it’s ugly to see. Because he literally condoned the genuine torture of his soul. And Jack just sucked it dry.” He thinks. “And it’s possible Jack’s not totally penitent yet. Because you all still enable his very clever delusion.”

“So he knew Lem wasn’t gay and that he was?” asks Lacey.

“Yup. Possibly.” says Louis.

A Gen Z woman laughs. “Okay…so…who was actually in the White House?!”

“Michael.” says Rocky. “And Lacey and Lem had a bedroom.”

“Wait! So…did Joe Jr. also get the idea of screwing Lacey over from Jack?” asks Mr. Blue.

“Yes!” says a witch hearing the affirmative as much as Lacey.

“So his act…of secretly bisexual, straight leaning virility was actually an imitation of Michael?!” asks a Asmat sarcastically. Why sarcastically? Because it’s so obvious to them.

My Strange Addiction plays. The DuPonts laugh.

“Things are far uglier in the bourgeois set than you think.” one of them says. “It’s a fallen world.”

“Yes, but who taught Jack to steal mercilessly from women?” asks a Boomer.

“So you made the Camelot sausage by stealing from Lem?” asks a Boomer of Jack.

National Anthem plays.

“Savagely.” says Asmat. “Kick got the house. Jack got the dick. Then they got off over and over.”

“How do you get off in Lem’s mouth without Lem taking your soul?” asks Lacey.

“Because I was sure he loved me profoundly forever. I never let myself feel the doubt. My whole family backed me up. And…he thought he was just doing his sexual duty. And I was sadistic.” He thinks. “Every time he made me orgasm…I stole his soul. And it made me feel invincible.”

“And I hated when he made me orgasm.” says Lem. “I didn’t like feeling owned by him. Or having him think that either.”

“So…the Irish got their revenge after all!” says an Irishman sarcastically. “Aww!!”

“Or if reincarnation is in Christianity…then…Jack secretly hated himself and went ballistic.” says a Gen Z member.

“And he probably knew Micheal when he was a literal Lord or when Lem was.” says another Gen Z member.

“So…did Jack mean to mock the Irish?” asks a hater.

“By imitating his Irish origin father?” asks Frank McCourt. “Doubling down on the sin, even. Doing worse and not just stealing a rich whore’s money.” He thinks. “Stealing his former best friend’s souls? Out of pure evil vanity, and jealous rage.”

“If reincarnation is in Christianity…is Jack a Kennedy anymore or just a really sick little rich boy in London?” asks a Gen Z member.

“I doubt it is…but if so…he might be that now permanently, so to does. And for the moment at least be entirely gay.” says Lacey. “And very obviously so.”

“Or if reincarnation isn’t Christian then perhaps it’s metaphorical, in a way.” says Lacey. “Seriously, let’s be careful.”

“Okay…but why can’t Lem just get it?!” asks a Boomer.

“Because he can’t handle her ability to truly love Michael, or Louis, or Elliott or Joe.” says an Asmat. “And thinking it’s just because of what happened with Jack seems too good to be true to him.”

“Or is he just a narcissist? Because he doesn’t seem to grasp who I am or my needs or personality at all?” says Lacey.

“And it all rests on how much I love you. Perfectly logically.” says Lem. “Or is Jack just more lovable, more everything good than you?”

“He’s not. Sweetie, he’s not.” says a Eugene Levy type.

Lacey checks with the Holy Spirit to confirm that assessment.

“Jack…let’s get down to brass tacks. Give Lem a fighting chance. Okay?!” says a DuPont.

“Jack…why can’t you suck Michael’s dick?” asks the DuPont. “Isn’t that…suspicious?”

“Why suspicious?” asks Jack.

The DuPont silently smiles. September plays.

“Because if Lacey isn’t lovable it’s weird that Michael loves her. Isn’t it? …Or what? She should be dead by now. And she isn’t.” he says.

“I’ll investigate the obvious implications of this argument. Don’t worry.” says Lacey.

“Did you count on Michael loving Lacey? Or no?” asks a New Age woman golfing.

“I hated Lacey. …But I didn’t know her.” he says. “Maybe I just wanted to be a Michael.” He thinks. “Maybe I secretly wanted Lacey, even.” He thinks more. “Maybe…it’s a pretty thought.”

“To be bisexual and have handsome men in love with you? And yet…truly love Lacey. Passionately. And then…drift off on cloud of wealth? And opulence? With your happy, healthy children adoring you for all the right reasons.” says an English witch.

“So Jackie reminded you of Lacey? Or she was the idea of her?” asks a Gen Z woman.

“And yet she had to be yours. …Not Lem’s!” says another Gen Z member.

“Jack…did you count on Michael loving Lacey?” asks the woman again.

A few moments later.

“No!!!” he says, as Lem threatens to strangle him with one arm around his neck. It’s unclear if that’s true or not. Because reincarnation is not seemingly in Christianity.

“Why not?” asks Michael. “Why wouldn’t I or Louis have loved her?”

“Or me.” says Harold.

“Because you do things like that!” Jack says to Michael.

“To irritate her.” says Louis.

“Yes. And…I thought women were just…weak. And slow.” he says.

“Poverty inducing.” says a hater to Jack.

“Yes. If only men could be rich and free.” he says. “No sympathy for women and their annoying requests.”

“And you thought men like Michael secretly wanted your sexual deliverance.” says a Native American witch to Jack. “Did you tell Lem you were doing him a favor? Often? Like…was that a brainwashing technique you used with him? …And…he assumed it wasn’t just based on American materialism…and he assumed we’d understand his natural need for his own life and family.”

Kill Bill by SZA plays.

“Why did you think I was going to be annoyed with Lacey?” asks Michael.

“And then you found Lem…and stole her only life? All of it.” says Bernie Madoff. “Cutting off her legs and arms…shaving her head…gouging out her tongue. Leaving her practically unconscious while you scoffed. …Like a heinously psychopathic man trying to one-up a Nazi running a concentration camp.”

“Why?” asks the woman golfing.

Everything I Wanted plays.

“But you left behind her actual body? Mostly?” asks Michael.

“They should have named her Martha. But that’s an insult to everyone.” says a gang member from the 1930’s.

“Michael was…too smart, Jack.” says Sir Winston Churchill.

“I want to fuck her, Jack. And I get annoyed when I think of Lem being near her.” says Michael. “It’s sexual tension.” He thinks. “Sexual tension for Lacey. Not…for you. Or necessarily any man.”

“Who was supposed to love Lacey?” asks the women golfing of Jack.

“No one. She’s Eve. Not me. I have a dick!” he says hatefully.

“Jack do you hate women?” a Catholic priest asks him.

“Yes! …They are disgusting!” he says.

“I don’t feel that way.” says Michael. “And I never did.”

“I didn’t either, really. Although, I found them snobby and treacherous.” says Lem.

“Like they would likely hurt you?” a Boomer asks of Lem.

“Yes!” he says.

“But that’s no reason to align yourself with Jack.” says the Boomer.

“I didn’t align myself with Jack. Did I?” he asks of God.

Wobby sighs. Sadly.

“So you merely are explaining to me what I did when you slept with them?” he asks. “But what about you?! …How is that fair to you?!”

“Do you care?” asks Lacey. “Did they care?”

“Nah!” says Joe Jr. in denial. He can’t believe it’s all true.

“What? Did she make a fool of you by letting you screw her thinking you were using her?” a Boomer asks Joe Jr.. “In some sexually suicidal mission?”

“Yes!” says Joe Jr..

“Are you going to come beat me up? And be even more evil?” asks Lacey. “Or perhaps you want to? And that matters too, of course.”

Silence.

“It’s sad, Jack. Class shouldn’t matter so much today in America. She’s right. But it’s all interconnected.” says a DuPont.

“So you were a secretly hateful bourgeois English boy. And you were rabidly jealous of your betters who were nice to you. And…if reincarnation is true…you got a chance to be better. But you took the worst route and damned us all?” asks an English witch of Jack.

“And if reincarnation isn’t true…it’s a good explanation of the reality of it? …Yes. Possibly.” says Jack.

“But it’s actually Michael you loved?” asks Lacey.

“Yes. Because he’s a sexual dynamo and a Rockefeller and…young and beautiful…and artistic and…sexually adventurous. If I wasn’t straight. Yes.” says Jack.

“But you’d have felt like an idiot around him?” asks Lacey.

“And those glasses. Yes.” he says to Lacey. “What a sexy fib.” He thinks. “Or that’s the idea.”

“And then what? You fall apart. Because he’s him and you’re you.” says Louis to Jack. “And I’m straight and so is Harold.”

“Why are you so possessive of Lem? Just to hurt me because of Micheal?” asks Lacey. “And you ruined it with your brother because?” Lacey thinks. “It’s your annoying incompetency that throws me.”

“Would she have been more sweet to you before?” ask Lem.

“And suggested I might be less than human and dumb too?” asks Jack.

“Yes.” says Lem.

“Might.” says Lacey. “Or is that not possible?”

“So you made your entire life about hating Lacey?” a Gen Z woman laughs at Jack.

“Yes.” he says.

“Jack you sodomized yourself and Lem.” says a Charismatic. “That’s clearly outlined as wrong in the Bible.”

“It’s a vile form of rape.” says a gay man. “At least.” He thinks of a dead woman who experienced rape from a woman and feels shocked. His mouth falls open.

Silence.

“Why would you hate Lacey so much?” asks a Gen Z woman.

“Michael.” he says.

“And you can’t have your own Michael?” asks a woman. “Or you just can’t have Michael?”

“It’s Michael. Sorry if that’s boring.” says an Asmat.

“It may just be Michael.” says Lacey.

Goodbye by Feder plays.

“Wow!” says a Gen Z to Jack. “He really wouldn’t have slept with you?! For real?!”

“No. Not necessarily. I’d have flaked out before I’d gotten a chance to try. Or he might have brushed me off.” says Jack. “I’m not actually that cool.”

Liszt plays.

“Let me ask you this…if Lacey had screwed Lem after your brother betrayed her…would you have let her be with Lem?” asks a Silent Generation member.

“Yes. I would have been appeased, I guess.” he says.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Because I’s have been scared of Lem killing me. Mostly. And…I’d have respected him. And…I suppose I’d have thought Michael might find me more appealing, whether literal or metaphorical.” he says.

“She’s right. We’re just petty.” says Kick.

And at that Bernie takes his prisoners to a new location. Lacey, in hot pursuit, follows after.

“You’re not actually sleeping with anyone but Lem. Mostly. Possibly Michael. Not even your ex?” asks The Charismatic.

“I’m not really loose.” says Lacey.

“Do you want a play by play?” asks Harold in annoyance.

“Why do you even have any right to even ask?!” asks a Lana of The Charismatic. “Have you stated an interest in her?” She thinks. “If no, I think you’re being a bit disrespectful.”

“I wouldn’t care!” says a man who bears a striking resemblance to Michael Rockefeller who’s stated an interest in Lacey. She’s hesitated with him and refused to give him her phone number…but apparently he’s unfazed.

A Lana laughs.

“Why is he so unbothered?” asks a Gen Z member.

“Because he has her. She’d marry him. Easily. It’s just that it might not be best. …But it’s nothing wrong with him. He’s already won.” says a Catholic priest. “I don’t believe in reincarnation but…a happily married man who has complete and well founded trust in his wife who he understood and adored wouldn’t be easily threatened or confused.”

More Later.

—

September by Sparky Deathcap plays.

Lacey is a mess. As she sits in a vintage mink coat in her bedroom with the windows open she faintly smells Citristrip.

She can see why Desmond was concerned.

She shouldn’t smell Citristrip. They’ve sealed off the entire second floor. She only uses it on a shelf, a part of trim and a little bit of a wall near the trim.

“Why don’t we borrow money from my father and just buy a new house.” she says. Her e-husband is unhelpful. Every idea she’s had from the start of the mess a week ago he’s opposed. …And really he’s not been at all helpful with this situation but an obnoxious burden. She cares about him though… And it’s obviously his one weak point as a man. Him and his father are terrible at handy-man stuff although they try. Except, her ex-father-in-law has money to waste and he hires experts to redo the work on his mansions. He did let his pregnant wife carry heavy rocks for landscape around their Sewickley property though…and she complained about that for years…

“That’s weird that they lived near Lem’s childhood house, Lacey.” says a witch.

Lacey looks at the witch with an fairly indescribable look. The Citristrip is…incredibly annoying.

“I’m tired of it all.” says Lacey.

Michael relates.

“I make dumb mistakes too.” he says to Lacey. She sighs. “I don’t want to ask my father for help. But…my ex is clueless about this. And I am too.”

“Forget this!” says a poorer person reading her blog.

Lem cries in response. Why? Because Michael’s response to the hater is rage. Because Michael cares and he understands. And Lem realizes he should be angry too… Louis laughs in his face.

“It’s a mercy she isn’t able to move to North Oaks.” he says to Lem. “Or is she? You know her financial conundrum. Do you care?”

“He died there, didn’t he.” says a witch about Louis.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“He’s right. That’s not good news for Lem. One way or another.” says the witch. “He’s everywhere there.”

“I’m everywhere she is anyway. So is Scott.” says Louis.

Michael laughs. He’s not remotely intimidated.

“The thing is Lem…she slept with us for a good reason. The only problem is…it’s a tragic reason. And it rests on her being incredibly unloved. Privileged but unloved.” says Elliott. “You can’t be so…pretentious.”

“Pretentious?!” Lem’s mother says to Elliott.

“She can’t figure out who she belongs to. It wasn’t for reasons of lust. Almost certainly. She’s really that messed-up, sweetie. She’s not sure…who…she…belongs to.” says Elliott. “Belongs.”

“And of course she doesn’t do anything poorly.” says Michael kindly, jokingly. “So of course she actually tried to make love to all of us. Out of respect, actually. It wasn’t flippant.”

“Why didn’t you just tell her she belongs to you?” the Native American asks Lem.

“Because I wanted her to just know that.” he says.

“Because you’re dead.” says the Charismatic.

“I’d have wanted that in life too.” he says.

“Lem…people don’t live like that now. And you contributed to that.” says a gay man. “Forget your ideal. Why did you expect it to spiritually work for you anyway?”

“Because I was capable of that sort of love.” he says. “I gave it to Jack…as best I could and it was sickening. I hated my life… But I was a good little soldier. …And…now…”

“Now you find out Lacey either isn’t yours or she requires knowledge you never acquired.” says the Native American woman. “Lem…women fake orgasms.” She looks at him seriously. “I doubt Lacey is that dishonest. But…it’s thing. We feel…bad. And it’s the patriarchy… And…you don’t get real feminine pain.” She looks at him. “She’s faking it somehow. To be nice. To be agreeable.”

“Actual real straight women do that?!” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“It’s a coping strategy. Men…are supposed to be the leaders. And it’s a way of trying to follow them. Politely. Kindly.” She thinks. “Perhaps even lovingly.”

“So women can mean it…and yet not. At the same time.” says Lem. “It’s not just one or the other. Or rather, they don’t even need to pretend. They can truly give themselves away…and yet not.”

“In a troubling situation. And my dear…don’t you think her life is rather troubling?” asks the Native American woman. “Women have been sleeping with men to straighten out wars for centuries, my darling.” She thinks. “Women have been sleeping with men to start wars for centuries.” She thinks. “Is it being a traitor or being genuinely pragmatic?” She thinks. “Jack was a lying fuckard. …He didn’t need sex for medical reasons any more than Jeffrey Epstein, you silly, gullible jackass.” She thinks. “He was so spoiled. …Lacey is…his opposite.” She thinks. “She’s probably sleeping with Putin to stay alive. …For her kids.” She thinks. “Get your head out of their bourgeois Irish gutter.” She seethes. “You don’t get it. This isn’t Kansas anymore, byotch.” She laughs. “And don’t be shocked when she falls in love with a Putin. It happens. Royal marriages were fascinating, Lem.” She thinks. “Michael understands this. He understands the reality of her life.” She thinks. “It isn’t your meth-Kindergarten bullshit you invented with Jack, making a mockery of this.”

“Meth-kindergarten. How sick.” he observes. “Good way to describe it.”

“Right. Now what?!” she asks. “Because you didn’t tell her. And she doesn’t know. And she didn’t know. And now she’s relying on Michael, Louis and Elliott to save her. You’re lucky she’s so classy and old money Dutch. Imagine if she was Puritanical idiot.”

“And according to me, if she was Irish she’d be sleeping with her cousin or addicted to drugs.” says Frank McCourt. “Thank God she’s a well-bred, English origin gal.”

“She’s not sleeping with anyone out of that sort of trashy desperation. It’s because she’s genuinely lonely. Deadly lonely…” says Joe Jr.. “If such a thing should exist. …And please, stop trying to make fetch happen, they.” He thinks. “Satan would love to see Lacey get hurt more. But really she’s not going to do anything that gross or dumb.”

“I’m offended by that!” says Frank McCourt. “She got to be a hateful woman if she’s not capable of falling that far. Why should my mother be that morally lowly if she literally can’t be?” He sighs. “Isn’t that her ugliness and privilege?!?” He’s being sarcastic.

“I bet you can escape though, Frank!” says a Gen Z man.

“I did.” he says sadly about the state of the US.

September plays again.

“I love this song.” says Lacey.

She smiles.

“I’m sorry if it seems like I’m rambling.” she says bitterly.

“You got hurt. And so you stabbed me in the back. And I refuse to believe that that’s all it was.” says Lem. “You could have killed literally that whole family. Not that you would have. You’re loving,”

“I love his they killed the kids Lem.” says Lacey, sarcastically.

“She may be overcome by Citristrip. But not that…”. says Michael. “Filet Mignon. Easy! Easy Mac?” He laughs. She laughs.

“She not a baby dear. …She’s just not a dog.” says Louis to a hateful bourgeois woman or a demon attacking Lacey.

“Can you run a county?” Lacey asks her. “It’d be easy for me.”

“She got burned to pieces, Lem.” Jack says through an angel to a man who possibly hasn’t spoken to him since he died, despite what Lacey’s haters say. Or her accidental haters.

“Joe Jr. you were protecting us from this shitshow. Weren’t you?” asks the Native American woman.

“In a Christian way God may have been using him from the grave. Yes.” says Lacey.

“But your father was only worth $100 million!” says a hater in a whiny voice, almost sarcastic. She rolls her eyes.

“Hey! Worst case scenario, Putin bombs all of us to bits. I’m ready to die. I’m exhausted.” says the Native American woman.

“Make sure to ask Christ for forgiveness and salvation.” says Lacey, seriously.

“Is it unsafe to be loyal to Lem?” asks the Charismatic.

“It’s become that.” says Lacey.

The Charismatic rolls his eyes. “Lem, I don’t think she-“

“She’s with me.” says Louis.

“No! She’s not!” yells Lem.

A few minutes later.

“Jack, you secretly still want Lacey to love your brother. Don’t you? You’re just…miserable. I’ll pray for you, should you be in Purgatory.” says a Catholic priest.

“Well wherever he is…whatever this is…” hints Lacey.

“I’m sorry Katharine.” says an Irish origin woman.

“Thank you.” says Lacey.

“It wasn’t fair to you.” says a film producer.

“She’s not always an idiot.” says Lacey like a riddle.

“Or aging badly and married to a short comedian.” says a writer.

“It is getting old.” says Lacey.

Louis smiles. “No. Stop lying to her.”

“It’s Citristrip. Not nuclear war. Unless you make it that.” says Elliott. “Out of your depraved need for a different identity.”

“I’m not over it. I’m not.” says Lem. He laughs. “I find you attractive and I made you…weird. I’m sorry.”

“Joe is a fool!” says Jack. “Lacey was…everything he wanted. But no. No, why do that? Why do what makes sense? …Let’s go blow ourselves up. Let’s not do what’s rational and normal and will make us happy. No! That’s…what? Blasé? Uncool? Too expected?”

“You think Joe ruined his life?” asks a witch.

“Yes. He wasted his life.” says Jack. “He overcomplicates everything. He’s a genius. And I love him. A lot. …But he refuses to do what’s best. …Because he resents our heritage.” He thinks. “He hates our heritage. He wishes he was a nice, Episcopalian little brat. A little Yale darling. Not some saloon owner’s grandson.”

“Was it even possible?” asks Lacey.

“There’s a dose of reality.” says Kick.

Lacey laughs.

“But I can’t play pretend anymore.” says Lacey. “Sorry.”

“And now that she’s slept with Lem…shows over. One way or another? “ asks a heretic.

“There’s no going back.” says a dead prince.

Michael smiles.

F. I. A. S. O. M. Pt. 2 plays. Michael smiles wider.

“It’s so theatrical.” says Lacey.

“You would do drugs?!” asks a hater of Lacey.

“No. That’s the point.” She thinks. “Well, caffeine…and alcohol, and I tried pot once. And I was given an epidural.”

“Hey, don’t go too far out.” jokes Michael. “Right? It’s a slippery slope and you might not want to live. If you can’t.”

“It’s funny.” says Lacey. “Oui? Non?”

“I’m going with no, for now. Thanks!” says a Jew who sounds like Eugene Levy.

—

Later.

“I killed myself. Out of hatred for Jack.” says Lem to Lacey. “Or that’s what I seem to keep telling you.” He thinks, “Like because he lived I die.”

“They’d never want to believe that.” says Lacey. “Whether it’s true or not.”

He grows nervous, “Did you actually get scared?” he asks Lacey. He looks very anxious, “Did you actually think I possibly might not love you?”

“Yes, of course. I still doubt it.” says Lacey. “I feel very beholden to Michael. And loyal to Louis. And I worry about Harold. And I worry about you. And Elliott. …But of course, I wept that night because you were cold-“

He cuts her off. “Don’t keep explaining.”

“Joe gave to the idea that you were evil or ugly?” asks The Charismatic.

“I’m not sure why you keep trying to make me evil. It’s weird. Honestly… But…yes. Very decent, kind and deep but not very pretty. Pretty to him. But not pretty necessarily to anyone else.” says Lacey.

“Matronly and yet pretty enough for him to take you seriously. But not like…that great.” he says.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

“Great.” he says, rolling his eyes. “But you’re not insecure.”

“No! I think my value rests in God.” says Lacey.

“So you make people jealous and you literally have no idea why?” he asks.

“Yes, it seems so.” says Lacey, patiently.

“Nobody believes that because it’s terrifying.” he says.

“Why?” asks Lacey.

“Because no dead person should have that much authority over someone alive.” he says. “Even if my theology is off. …You shouldn’t be that confused.”

“Do you really think you’re ugly?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“No. But I don’t think my beauty means anything to anyone in a romantic way. I feel subhuman.” says Lacey. “I know I’m not. But…it makes absolutely no difference to me to better than other people. Matter-of-fact it’s gross.”

September plays.

“Would you ever say that line, ‘You should have known for a while.’?” asks an artist.

“No. I’m not a totally idiotic, whorish bitch.” says Lacey.

“True.” says Wobbly, annoyed.

“I can’t stand how beautiful you are.” says a perfume hater to Lacey.

“Okay.” says Lacey, internally rolling her eyes.

“You know he didn’t really love Pat. Right?” asks a historian of Lacey.

“That’s not what you guys decided. And you’re all gods. Right?” asks Lacey.

The Native American woman laughs.

“We just felt you should go die. Because you’re…annoying. As in, why the fuck do you exist?!” says Mr. Blue to explain their mentality.

“You’re in luck! …If Purgatory exists Joe was possibly leaning toward sleeping with Pat anyway.” says Lacey.

“Really? Like…that’s what he would have chosen if you’d lived at the same time?” asks the Charismatic.

“Yes.” says Lacey.

“So if we’d just waited a while we’d have seen our heart broken?” asks an Illuminati member.

“Possibly.” says Lacey.

The Charismatic laughs. “I think you all hate her because she’s truly that innocuous and innocent but not at all what feminists portend to be today. Maybe they did in the past. But not for like…the last ten to twenty years.”

“So what do you think we should do with her?” a Bill Gates asks him.

“She’s never going to be relatable. Stop expecting that.” he says. “Second of all, you can’t control her. Thirdly, you’ve not got unseen forces controlling you all that you also have absolutely no control over. And honestly, the more you fight it the worse it will get.” He thinks. “Because your specific sense of territorial injustice is meaningless in the face of what you’ve done. And how evil it is.” He thinks. “I cannot emphasize this enough: You screwed-up.”

“I agree.” says a U.S. President angry about how this has directly affected him.

“Is everything falling apart because of this?” asks the Charismatic. “For real.”

“Somewhat.” one of them admits.

“Yeah, see…y’all think kids and orphans and widows don’t matter.” he says. “But that’s just really dumb.” He laughs. “Where did you guys get so confused??”

“Well…in all fairness things are confusing.” says a singer.

“They are and they aren’t.” he says.

“Actually, it is weird that we found her or vice versa.” says a journalist.

“Yup.” says Lacey, exasperated.

“Sorry.” the journalist says, sincere or not.

“I just want some normalcy and order.” says z Lacey.

“Did you feel forced into crushing on my husband?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“That’s insightful. …Yes. Actually, yes.” says Lacey.

“You need a bigger house.” says Batgirl III.

“Yeah.” says Lacey.

“Well, I’m sorry I was the only bespectacled man available.” says Mr. Blue.

“Possibly available.” says Lacey.

“You know, that’s why I’m mad. Why did you assume I was so incompetent?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“Good question. Honestly as terrible as it is it was probably my worldview.” says Lacey. “Well, and he seemed unhappy and I assumed the best of his character.”

“You thought their marriage was done and that they were winding down. And you thought you might be his second wife based on his perceived level of interest.” says a reader of the blog.

“You guys really can’t handle how mundane that mistake is. Why?!” asks the Charismatic.

A Millennial writer laughs. “I think we don’t like her existence. She’s too…Michaelish. …And frankly, that makes me wonder what Lem’s actual vibe is.”

“This…sweet unconquerable person who judges you for possibly all the right reasons.” says a reader.

“And there’s no way to argue. She’s often just right.” says Batgirl III.

“Hey thanks Joe.” sarcastically says a Liberal. “For those of us with a conscience: we do not appreciate you lying to her.”

“She’s right. You’ve all gotten it so wrong. Do you understand. She’s not one of you. And she never will be until Heaven.” says the Native American woman. “I’m sorry she bothered you.”

“It was an accident.” says Elliott. “On her part.”

“Don’t go there with Lem.” warns Bernie Madoff.

—

Michael stands on a train depot platform. Lem walks down the aisle. Louis waits in his convertible Cadillac in the parking lot. Harold watches from across the street at a cafe.

Lem sits down in the seat next to her.

“You forgot a contact case again.” he says.

“There isn’t one in any of our luggage?” she asks.

“Nope.” he says casually.

Michael sits down in the seats ahead of them. So does Louis. They turn around and look at her.

Lacey grows uncomfortable. She stands up and exits.

“Don’t you like getting attention?” asks a Boomer of Lacey.

“No.” she says.

Lem chases her down. “Just use to glasses with your solution. Or ask at the front desk.”

“Why don’t you understand what a mess I am? Why don’t you care more?” she asks.

“I do care.” He licks his lips. “You don’t get it.” He holds her close. “You’re me. And I was never good to myself.”

“I’m not you.” she says.

“Ahh…but you are. And…I’m not nice to myself either.” he says with slight innuendo. “And I expect an enormous amount from myself.”

“So the idealization of the other they ascribe to you was a farce.” she says.

“No, I love you. I just…cannot believe you’d want anyone but me.” he says.

“That’s ugly. I don’t want that love. I love myself more than you do.” she says.

“And they seem to love you the way you love?” he asks.

“Of course. But…it’s not a fair question anyway.” she says.

“I can’t imagine loving any woman but you. Literally any woman.” he says. “And certainly not any man.”

The State of the Union comes on television.

“I don’t care if you never speak to me again until you die. You’re mine!” yells Lem. Get over it.”

“Or maybe not?” says Michael.

“It’s a funny thing.” says Louis.

“No it’s not. I’m never losing you.” Lem says to Lacey.

“For eternity?” asks Lacey.

“Yes.” says Lem.

—