Madoff

So turns out it was Bernie Madoff’s wife who suggested to Mrs. Blue that when Lacey vaguely considered having a real romantic relationship with Mr. Blue in 2015 that she be throttled into literal Hell? Using the Illuminati.

“They owe me a favor. Take her out like your husband wants.” said Ruth to Mrs. Blue.

Or is that a lie? A lie cleverly constructed lie to confirm all you darkest suspicions about Lacey being the true source of evil in our story.

“It’s just…I was married to Mr. Blue not you!” she says to Lacey in tears.

Flustered by the massive bullshit, Lacey calms herself and considers what to do.

“You’re making Jews and the Irish look like kikes and zombies.” says a dead Irish singer who feels repulsed.

Mr. Blue, feeling soo sexy looks into his wife’s eyes. His wife falls for it all.

Linger by the Cranberries plays.

Mr. and Mrs. Blue look into each other’s eyes. They seem lost to each other.

Lacey is repulsed.

“You’re not his wife!!” yells Mrs. Blue at Lacey snugly, triumphantly.

“I highly suspect I fell in love with the Mr. Blue persona you use to lie to people who don’t know about the Illuminati.” says Lacey.

“Lies!” yells a menacing, psychologically violent Boomer at Lacey. He then tries to rape her twice. She resists twice.

The Loudest Perfume Hater cracks-up laughing. A lot of people were fooled into thinking Lacey was in love with them in 2014 through 2015 either through their own narcissism or through a horrendous spiritual attack on Lacey.

“Who were you in love with from 2014 to 2015?” asks Georgiania of Lacey.

“Is Lacey being indicted?” the CIA asks Georgiania.

“They killed her instead of me. Yesterday Lacey told me to go die and so I shook my ass like a champion and they killed her instead.” says Erin.

Broken by Lund.

“I’m so broken! It’s hard for people who don’t understand what they do to me to understand.” says Erin. “I’m your victim!”

Wobbly grins. Licks his lips.

“Yummy!” Wobbly says, trying to sound menacing.

Lacey is losing interest.

The demons of perversity keeping the evil all alive while others suffer will surely torture them in Hell for eternity. If they don’t repent.

“I don’t understand. Was she expected to be be a mind reader or were you expecting her to feel too socio-economically inferior to notice him at all? Or what?” asks Rocky of Mrs. Blue.

Silence.

“Why don’t you get it? She’s not like you!” says Michael to Mr. & Mrs. Blue who sadistically attack Lacey with attempted molestation of her and other vile bullshit for years.

“I can’t empathize with her! She took my life and my family and boiled frogs in my kitchen. I have the videotape!!” says Mrs. Blue. Or is it Mrs. Boys? The Illuminati sex ring run by her friends uses Mrs. Blue to spiritually molest boys? Except why? Why would that evil cause Mrs. Blue to trip and attack Lacey.

Well…regardless…she’s obsessedobsessed with thinking Lacey is in love with her husband. She attacks Lacey endlessly. It’s bizarre.

Lacey has reiterated probably a dozen times that she’s never been in love with Mr. Blue as his real self. Lacey’s reiterated an apology at least four or five or over a dozen times over the years for crushing on her husband (and falling in love with his persona) for a year or two while Mr. & Mrs. Blue had a seemingly open marriage. They’ve never apologized for anything. …ANYTHING. …The Illuminati has apologized but not Mr. & Mrs. Blue.

“I was in love for real with a possible ghost.” says Lacey.

“See! That’s what happens when you fall in love a demon!! There are no ghosts!! You Wiccan evil one!!!” screams the Protestant Charismatics at Lacey. “You’re possessed!!”

“So this is all my fault?! Because I…I…fell in love…possibly…with a ghost?!?! And I desperately tried to bring it before God the whole time. I did. Fervently! That’s insane!!!” says Lacey.

“I know you loved him!” Wobbly and Mrs. Blue say to Lacey with conviction and confidence about Mr. Blue.

Lacey laughs. She wonders if Wobbly is making a joke. She sincerely wonders.

“The thing is, sure it was Mr. Blue I interacted with but I didn’t…know him. I didn’t. He’s not who I thought he was.” says Lacey.

“When did you fall in love with me? Tell me more about how handsome I am.” Mr. Blue says?

“I never really loved you.” says Lacey apologetically. “Sorry!” She’s being sincere, sweet, and genuinely apologetic.

“We don’t fall in love that way!” says Mrs. Blue proudly?

“Yes, I hear you. But…I was horribly wrong about what kind of people you both were. Trusting my gut isn’t always safe in situations like this. Is it? I trusted you two to not be heinous criminals.“ Lacey thinks. “Is any part of your psychology normal?” She thinks. “Ironically enough I’d never have fallen for Bernie Madoff’s financial lies but I believed that your handlers wouldn’t ruin your persona so much. You’re obscenely different than your personas.” says Lacey.

“Go to Hell!!!” Liberals yell at Lacey.

“That’s a stupid insult.” says Rocky go them.

“So you really think I’m that dramatically different from my persona?” Mr. Blue asks.

“Yes. You are.” says Lacey.

“If both parties are selling children then this God damned country needs to end.” says Mark Nesheim.

“Possibly the whole world. No excuses. Go shoot yourselves in the face…if necessary…” says Lacey. “Pray to God to forgive you for your sins first!”

“You think I should go shoot my kids and myself and my husband?” asks Mrs. Blue.

“Yea.” says Vinny. “And right quick, bitch.”

“Maybe.” says Lacey. “Actually, you should take your party and inject the needle into your skull and bones. Tonight? Shoot Vinny and the kids first?” suggests Lacey.

“What about Wobbly?” asks the-CIA of Lacey.

“I can’t figure him out in a way. Is he pure evil or an idiot or losing his mind?” asks Lacey. “Right?”

“He could be a psychopath?” suggests the Bishy.

“True.” says Lacey, seriously.

“She fell in love with your persona.” says a rapper to Mr. Blue.

“I’m losing patience!” yells Michael Rockefeller.

Erin dances in a wind machine thinking she cute. Westside Story by The Game plays. Then U Not Like Me by 50 plays and Erin decides it’s about her. She dances like the Illuminati loves her. She dances like everyone loves her and not Lacey. She dances like God would let her get away with anything because…she’s…got s hideous big tooth smile and her hair is stringy and she’s not curvy and her nose is awkward. She’s been blown-up on television and in the movies though.

“Your attacks on her don’t work.” says a dead English Boomer to Erin. He feels the need to clarify. “You’re not getting it.”

Whatever You Like is sang by Lisa as Erin dances in a wind machine without irony in Marilyn Monroe’s white dress from “The Seven Year Itch.” Erin is singing to Mr. Blue. Mr. Blue is grinning, dancing, loyally cheering her on.

Hypnotize by Biggie karaoke-sang by Mr. Blue in response to Erin. He leaves the audience laughing silently and dancing to cheer him on, expect for Lacey and her crowd.

At the end Lacey can’t restrain her giggles.

Cooped Up/Return of the Mack by Post Malone, Mark Morrison & Sickick plays. It’s a horrible segue. Lacey laughs.

Mr. Blue hears her laughs and looses it and tries to kill her. He pulls out a semi-automatic rifle and starts shooting her. Just her. He uses rounds of ammunition. Get Into It is played without irony by his cool-kid crew to cheer him on.

She lays dead on the floor and still he keeps shooting. Her ghost emerges and with help from the British she slices pieces of her body off to let them reattach the pieces as gracefully and tastefully as possible. He doesn’t notice.

When Mr. Blue finds out he decides to kill the Royals, the CIA and his wife? Or no? Just Lisa?

“I can’t believe they’re doing this to me!!!” he says trying to sound sexy and yet like a victim of classic literature’s favorite evil: The rich.

Erin looks sad.

Erin cries.

Erin looks sad.

“It’s so mean!” Erin says about Michael Rockefeller’s ghost. “How did you know I watched you on Tik Tok and fell in love with you?”

Putin requests Cover Bombs by Nomadic Firs be played.

“Are you a school shooter?” a hilariously misguided Liberal asks Lacey without humor or irony.

“No.” she says.

“We’re glorious and she’s just jealously obsessed with us?! Take my photo! Aren’t I cute!” Erin says using child sex slaves to try to commit Lem. “I can make you love me! If Lacey can do it so can I!! I’ll show her ugly ass!” she says to Lem to sound sexy.

She conjures up an entirely different man who just vaguely looks like Lem. She believes it means something special about her when they get married right then and there.

“Are you the one running things?” he asks her.

She imitates Lacey’s actual psychological profile she represses herself from acknowledging consciously except to use as a weapon or a tool.

“Yeah. Isn’t it sad!?” Erin says meekly.

“Wow! Are you rich?” he asks.

She shrugs. She looks demure.

“He looks like Lem.” says Lacey to the British.

“He does a little.” says Louis.

“That’s sick.” says Lacey.

—-

And back at the Gaelic cave we find out that Lacey was kidnapped either by the British or the CIA or possibly just the Democrats…or…possibly just Mr. Blue. With the help of his friends and so-called hotshot family he chained up her ghost supernaturally and drug her body to the cave tied up to the back of his truck. The chains almost fell off considering she’s a partially a ghost. But the tiny bit of her left was dragged.

“I’d shove you in a vat of oil but I can’t find one.” he says without irony. “Do you know what oil is?”

“Yes. Well they don’t have oil in Ireland and that’s where I spiritually brought you.” he says.

The ride behind the truck was so fun she only now realizes he’s still trying to kill her.

He shoves her ghost toward the cave.

“You’re still trying to kill me?!” she asks him shocked.

“You’re so alive!! You make me sick!” he says, practically spitting.,

“I’m probably partly dead, actually.” she says.

Come Around by M. I. A. plays from Heaven.

Michael emerges. “It’s slang not literal if you’re unaware and innocent of what people like you do with it.” he says. “Maybe I’d say baby girl to my wife if I was alive because I want her to be able to fall apart and cry.” He thinks. “See…the thing is…it’s not that I think she’s a baby or as a synonym a wimp for crying. It’s just that..she needs to be cajoled into crying. And I thought baby girl as a slang term might be the correct usage for that emotional allowance of vulnerability on her part towards me.” He sighs. “Or maybe I want to be able to say it and I’m not that unaware. It’s cool slang. But given the implications it’s offensive.”

The song continues.

“See the thing is…this song can be taken as an assault on evil.” says Michael.

But that’s when Michael realizes that Mr. Blue can’t hear him. At all.

“Why is he attacking her?!” Michael asks Louis, in a rage.

And that’s when Lem awakes from his sleep to Anything Goes by Cole Porter. He’s horrified when he hears the lyrics sang.

And that’s when Michael Rockefeller raced forward into the Irish darkness holding a knife, jabbing it into Mr. Blue’s neck.

“It’s like The Shining!” says Stanley Kubrick weeping to Lacey.

And now, later, they all stand outside watching Putin bomb the caves. Is it now or later? What’s his eternity? Is he a real or a fake? What’s best?

“So…he’s a ghost or a demon?” asks Mrs. Blue. Hasn’t Michael disappeared? Hasn’t she found a way to uncover him. He almost manifests after Lacey prays.

Lem gets into a plane. He flies it. He drops bombs. If the Nazis are the elite he’s going to kill them slowly or quickly.

“You want to dismantle my blog?” asks Lacey.

“Anything that goes down to that end is purely to vindicate the self-perceived sexual potency, self-perceived elite social-economic status, and objective good-looks of Erin, Mr. Blue and his-wife. It’s all about worshiping their ego. The Clinton’s don’t matter to you guys. 9/11 doesn’t matter to guys. Nothing. Nothing else matters to you all but proving their superficial superiority. It’s all about their hair, teeth, eyes, so-called sex sounds and shit like that. Nothing Godly, normal or healthy. Just them. That’s it. …So if you want to ruin the world, literally blow it up to fight us…that’s what you’re fighting for. Keep that in mind.” says Lem.

Fishin’ by Takenobu plays.

“So Balenciaga? Biden? All that?” asks a Liberal.

“That was all fur them.” says Lacey.

“What happens when we die?” asks Lacey.

TREE by Ólafur Arnalds plsys

“What happens when we die?” asks a Blue Origin Consultant from Troubleshooter No. 4.

“It’s a dark place. Where you close your eyes and feel nothing. It’s like…sleeping and I love it. I love taking warm, happy naps!” says Erin.

“Gee, let’s talk about mayonnaise and sexualize all the condiments and all the food groups and all the people and all the everything but not in the way God intended. In a way that makes it Hellish and torture.” says Mr. Blue.

“I think pepper should be code for black people’s farts.” she giggles.

“I think tomatoes should be code for killing aliens on Mars.” he says seriously.

“I think fruit juices should be code for murdering innocent people.” he says.

“I think Putin is a nice man. Like your friendly neighbor who brings bad meat to the barbecue.” she says, giggling.

“I love you!” he says to her.

“We should get married.” he says to her.

“Yeah!” she says nodding sadly.

“My wife is gone this weekend.” he says.

“I’m running a marathon.“ she says.

“Yeah, well, that’s why I need buy that new gaming chair.” he says.

She looks at him like he’s crazy.

“I’m going to watch you.” he says.

She kicks him playfully like he’s crazy.

He smiles. Looks serious.

“Why are you always so sad after we have sex?” she asks him.

“I don’t know…it’s just…I feel like you take it the wrong way sometimes. Like, my wife is still so unhappy about it all. And she’s unhappy with me too. But I need her to be less anxious and just enjoy the life we’ve created.” he says.

“Why don’t we get married?” she asks him.

“I kinda want to now.” he says.

“I want to be a lesbian circus clown.” she says.

He laughs.

“We should get married.” he says.

“I might just take you up on that offer.” she says coyly.

He laughs…

She looks tentative.

Symphony No. 9 by Dvorák plays.

“I’m going tanning today and then snorting cocaine.” he says.

“I shot up lots of heroin last night.” she says.

“Are you sure you love me?” he asks.

She laughs. She looks askance.

He looks downtrodden.

“We should run off today and get married.” she says.

“Okay. When?” he asks.

“I dunno.” she says.

“Yeah, it’s not that easy.” he says.

“Why don’t you ever marry me?” she says rocking in her seat in agitation as she grimmaces, showing her teeth.

“It’s the money.” he says.

She looks sad. Then she suddenly laughs. “I could rob a bank.” She sounds serious.

He thinks. “I can’t see you robbing a bank.” He sighs romantically.

“I would for you!” she says with a wink, trying not to sound corny.

“We should just turn my wife into a robot and use her to make money.” he says, sounding serious.

She looks repulsed. “That’s so mean. I don’t think she should have to be a robot. We should make Lacey our robot.”

He rolls his eyes. “Why do we need care about my wife? Let’s just use my car and take all the money out of the bank and run off?”

She looks uncomfortable. “I don’t want to marry you.”

“Yeah! I love my wife.” he says happily.

She cries.

He looks sad.

They stare at each other.

They stare at each other.

They stare at each other.

They just keep staring at each other.

“I like steak!” he yells, fighting.

She rolls her eyes. Glares at him.

He tries to laugh.

They both swallow their spit in a chill manner.

“We should get…together and get married.” he says.

“Yeah.” she says, with affected mystery.

He looks like his head is about to literally explode.

She stares at him with a cool, thoughtful, detached air.

Dark Red by Steve Lacy starts.

And then he sneezes.

She tries to bob her head to the music.

They stare at each other.

He bobs his head to the music.

“I’m going to put you in a Chinese prison camp!” says a U.S. President taking aim at Lacey on behalf of Mr. Blue’s wife.

Mr. Blue farts. Erin looks embarrassed.

“The CIA has me covered to kill her. It’s Illuminati go time!” says the US President.

“You people are the best!” Erin says.

“Let’s go snorkeling. Code!” yells Mr. Blue.

“Mm. You’re a god.” she says.

“You guys, you’re so cool.“ says a U.S. President.

“I don’t have a lot of coke left today.” he says.

“You’re so close to being the first one to truly love me.” she says.

“Because I don’t let you use coke?” he asks.

“You just can’t be a bad guy.” she says. “You always work it out for everyone’s benefit. You could be Hitler as you’d be the best person to ever live.”

The Ugly Truth

While the tortured Christian dead thankfully leave the living to be okay with God. The elite both old and new money both good and evil consider their options.

“Does anyone read this blog?” asks a Ron Howard.

Lacey considers. “I wonder.” She shrugs.

Anyway, it seems Joe Jr. needs counseling and time with God. Not necessarily to be with Lacey for eternity but to be happy with God.

It also seems that many people in the Illuminati are wondering why life on Earth is necessary.

“It’s a day to day thing.” says a Kim Kardashian. As in, each day makes living worth it as the day unfolds. But evil really is incredibly repulsive these days and is replacing truth far too much nowadays and even the Illuminati is getting tired of it.

Or…is it even the Illuminati? Is it possible Lights Are On is the sad truth? As in, the elite are actually seeing it first. It’s a hollow song. It’s a beautiful song. It’s a song that’s nostalgic and reminds us of the sweetness of God bringing us to our death in a world that’s teetering on human extinction.

Dollars and Cents by Radiohead plays.

“Is it a climate issue on a purely cold, scientific level?” Lacey asks a Greta.

“Yes!” she yells, objectively.

“The 20th American hegemony has accidentally turned the world into the Donner Party?” says Lacey.

Putin cries. He’s exhausted.

“The thing is, humans have always been evil but perhaps they’re becoming increasingly evil due to a failing civilization that has increased the likelihood for Hell to manifest?” suggests Lacey.

“And turning into the Donner Party?” asks a Greta.

“Yes!” says Lacey.

Then being increasingly psychically attacked by Wobbly, Mr. Blue and his evil crew of cannibals the two women wisely chose to end the present conversation. Apparently making the situation in the world rational, calm and beautiful is terrifying to the Devil.

“Evil is still evil.” says a Greta.

Jóhannsson: A Sparrow Alighted upon our Shoulder by Jóhann Jóhannsson plays.

Lacey fights with Michael to work with God to move beyond the evil. It’s like fighting to control sails. It’s terrifying.

But have no fear, Lem’s not worried. God irons it all out in the end. God corrects it. If Lacey is his wife…Michael is fighting with him. If Michael has his back with Lacey.

“I can take you out!” Wobbly psychically yells at Michael and Lacey, threatening them.

“No!!!!!” yells Lacey in response.

And at that the Illuminati, should it exist, has to consider. What’s best?

“An atomic war is going to cause nuclear fallout.” says Keith. Keith ended his life because he hated the ugly look of things in this decrepit world.

“And the fallout will hurt the animals?” asks a woman in the Illuminati.

“Exactly!” Keith seemingly says to her.

Silence.

“Even if we’re gone, the animals will suffer.” says Keith?

Silence.

“Sarah Teasdale wrote There Will Come Soft Rains before WWII.” says Lacey. “I wonder if the time for that beauty has passed?”

Later.

Jóhannsson: A Sparrow Alighted upon our Shoulder by Jóhann Jóhannsson plays.

“Chris hates the true elite. They are the bane of his existence.” She thinks. “Because he’s not one of them. He’s not related to any US Presidents. He’s a lowly serf. And no matter how much he works…that’s all he’ll ever be.”

She thinks.

“There is no way up.” She thinks. “Back in the 1800’s when Andrew Carnegie philanthropically gave libraries he was making a social-class investment. The investment was in his name meaning something in the future in terms of Old-Money.” Pause. “Because Old-Money isn’t just a vibe, or being a billionaire or an aesthetic like Coastal Grandmother. It’s very likely an actual social class.” Another pause. “It’s very well organized group of people.” One more pause. “It’s very likely not a Marxist concept, but actual reality.”

A bit later.

“The thing is…it’s a huge flaw in Lenin’s thinking. …Because it’s not just the have’s organized into groups and the have nots to be actualized by progressives. It’s a stringent, organic, wretched facet of our fallen state of being as humans.”

Later.

“The thing is…God is real. And sometimes the elite Old-Money are the true good. Not the true evil.” says Michael.

“And when they are…it brings glory to God. But it makes the poor feel more wretched when they resist God?” asks Louis.

“And in this case…it’s absurd. …A poor group of Liberal Millennials climbed their way up the social ladder in the US as we were taught to do, but for those who rejected Christ it became troubling. They had possibly very little grace when they found out that being almost Upper Class wasn’t as great as they’d assumed. Or they found out that they’d never actually be one these Old-Money elite, daring, sexy overlords. ….Sure they’d put on the act and the clothes and the smiles. But behind closed doors in their true moments…the act crumbled and the vile reality emerged.” says Lacey.

“Is Mr. Blue Charles Ryder?” asks a Liberal Intellectual of Lacey.

“In a way.” says Lacey. “But this certainly isn’t England.”

“The thing is…why are you mad at them?” asks F. Scott Fitzgerald of Mr. Blue.

“She’s right. You don’t necessarily even love them when you can have them.” says Erin.

“Yeah, what is it?” asks Hermes of Mr. Blue.

“Is it Michael?” asks Lacey. “Are you trying to be him or do you loathe that the concept of him even exists.”

“What’s wrong with cheese dip and ranch dressing, Mr. Blue?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater.

“Chris, if this is real…are we your victims? All of us? Let’s use this metaphor: The middle class and those lower are your family and the true Old-Money elite are the ghosts, both living and dead.” asks a Liberal Intellectual.

“Why not cheese dip?” Lacey asks him. “I like cheese dip. Not all the time. But on rare occasions.”

“And I’d never truly enjoy her world. Not really.” says a dead English woman. “I think she admires us. And I think we admire her. When we’re being sane.” She thinks. “And we respect each other when we’re being sane.” She thinks a bit more. “It’s the evil and insanity of all classes that causes that sort of turmoil.”

“I think he hates it because it’s a door he can’t open.” says someone.

“But why? …Because when Joe offers his strength it’s…confusing. Buy when Michael offers his strength it’s almost impossible to avoid being his.” says Lacey. “I’d assume the best of Mr. Blue but I wonder. Why is he so upset? Michael can open doors and respects himself enough not to open closed doors. …Are you and Joe Jr. heroes or fools, Mr. Blue?”

“We feel enslaved by you!!” says an angry bourgeois woman to Lacey, ignoring the fact that Mr. Blue may have somehow tortured the children of the Old-Money elite as sex slaves since this started.

“No!!! We sent them to be tortured in a living Hell and ripped apart by evil without your rightful protection because we aren’t happy that we can’t-“ starts a Liberal hater. Then she decides to protect herself.

“Childhood sex slaves were a thing before you all had your children hurt.” says a self-righteously-black witch.

“Go on!” says a group of Liberals standing in the gap to agree with her spiritually.

“Go on!” says Louis to the black witch.

“I’m just saying that I don’t feel the need to care.” the black witch says.

“Why not? Because your ancestors were slaves, because you can’t buy expensive enough perfume or what?” asks Lacey of the black woman.

Mr. Blue sits tight and waits for his victory. Growing-up in a beautiful state he saw them. Whether he admits it or not. And like F. Scott Fitzgerald he was deeply affected.

“It was the wealth of St. Paul that made me feel so lonely. Reading my story otherwise is possibly very evil.” says Scott Fitzgerald.

“And there goes New York.” says Michael.

“It was my actual family that affected F. Scott Fitzgerald so much. You are such intellectual phonies.” Louis scoffs. “It was my family’s wealth. Our ties to New York. …Lacey’s Old Money ties to us today. Etc., etc.”

“And you wrote L’Heure Bleue of the Electric?” asks Lacey of Mr. Blue.

“Can L’Heure Bleue be a thing for these people as a collective group in society? I doubted it. …We all wear the scent of an end, but…that’s different.” He thinks. “Even you will die, Mr. Blue. …Do you and your friends fear death? I wonder.” asks F. Scott Fitzgerald of Mr. Blue.

“She had an astonishing amount of mercy for me.” Joe Kennedy Jr. says about Lacey.

“She still does…she’s just been worn down.” Joe Sr. says.

“I didn’t mean to snub you.” says Michael Rockefeller to Joe.

“Okay. Why?!” asks a Liberal of Mr. Blue.

“She thinks that means Michael will accept her and love her! He never will. She’s too lowly.” Joe Jr. says seriously to his family and friends about Lacey.

“What about like…Marilyn Monroe?” Mr. Blue asks Joe confrontationally.

“Do you think we essentially snubbed Marilyn on moral grounds?” asks Bobby of Mr. Blue. “And if she’d been herself but a Doris Day type she might have snagged one of us permanently?”

“Am I in with your crowd?” Mr. Blue asks the dead Kennedys.

“Almost.” responds J. P..

“One has to be very cautious with one’s accomplishments.” says Erin.

“So why isn’t organic spinach dip from your pre-made food cook service and riviera service as a treat good enough?” asks The Loudest Perfume Hater of Mr. Blue.

“You wouldn’t understand. It’s just that bad.” says Mr. Blue. “To be us.”

“Why?!” asks another perfume hater.

“Have you ever been to Ireland?” he asks them.

They stare at him.

“You’re insane. And pure evil!” says a group of perfume haters to Mr. Blue.

“You’ve aided and abetted evil in destroying the middle class.” says the Loudest Perfume Hater to Mr. Blue.

“Do you think it was already in despair?” he asks her.

“The Upper Middle-Class?” she asks.

“No! The bourgeois elite!” he yells back.

“So then why did you make it worse?!” she asks him.

He spiritually feels like vomiting. So does Erin.

“How much Everclear did you two drink?” a comedian asks them.

“Four shots.” says Mr. Blue.

“Between the two of you?” someone asks.

“Just me. She had two?” says Mr. Blue, uncomfortable.

“Why aren’t you both dead?” asks Mary Tyler Moore of them.

“We may have been sacrificing people for years to keep the guilty in our crew alive.” says the Illuminati.

“So…how does that spiritually work?” asks Lacey.

“Giant waves. Bad news.” says Michael.

Chris emerges from a Gaelic cave in ancient Ireland covered in snakes, leeches, and two fur creatures that have all bitten into his flesh and remained there. He emerges with hundreds of lacerations. But he refuses to let himself be funny. He demands justice for his ego and his buddies back him up, instead of defending their own families.

“So!! He’s a really nice man.” Betty White says about Vladimir Putin. “And if you kill him…you’re not going to like the results.”

“…Umm…how is Wobbly, Joeschmoshow and crew going to go kill St. Patrick?” asks a man watching them as the pair march into the cave like heroes going to save coal mining accident victims. They look deadly seriously.

“He’s got us!” they say, emerging. They’re holding opened bottles of Bud Lite.

“We were shooting hoops and then he asked us if we’d like a Bud. Now to Poker!” Joeschmoshow says.

“Huh. That’s a cool saint!” sincerely says a Catholic.

“Yeah! He almost has us fooled, though. He said he was Satan at first.” says Wobbly.

“Why isn’t he Satan?” Lacey asks them.

“He just isn’t!” they say.

“Why?” she asks.

“He’s…so…” Wobbly says.

“Wait, wait…you don’t think it’s St. Patrick!” The Loudest Perfume Hater says to Lacey.

“No, I doubt it.” says Lacey.

“No! No!! No!!” says Mark Nesheim.

They all stand there. An hour later they’ve all left but Wobbly and Joeschmoshow decide to go down into the cave. There’s a force field pushing them back on orders from God but they ignore it because they don’t feel it.

Four days later.

The dark twilight surrounding the cave gives the impression that no one alive is inside. And it’s unclear if Wobbly and Joeschmoshow are dead or if they’ve just been inside the cave the whole time.

Mr. Blue arrives with an older Irish man with a thick brogue. “Why don’t you two love birds just stop quarreling and make-up. Right?!” suggests the Irish man to Mr. Blue.

In chains and beaten almost unconscious Lacey is drug to the mouth of the cave. Suddenly she has a thought.

She giggles. …It’s Ireland.

She can’t stop laughing.

“Hey, fuckers…how hard would I have to bite to cut off your dicks?” she says. “And as you beat me to my death and you bleed to your death…where will we all be going? Heaven or Hell?” She waits for a response.

“You can’t bite off my dick! You’re a mouthless…amoeba.” says Mr. Blue using CIA tactics and the Illuminati to try to genuinely brainwash her into thinking she’s a mouthless amoeba.

And then…Michael emerges. He pulls out a sharp knife and stabs the Irishman and Mr. Blue in their necks. He laughs.

Worried and confused Lacey panics. This isn’t good.

Strengthened by demons from the cave the two men ignore their mortal wounds. It gives her time.

“Say, what…where did you want me to make love with him? Inside the cave?” she asks the Irishman who coldly ignores her and Mr. Blue.

“You’re not going to understand!” says Mr. Blue dismissively.

“You can’t tell her that!!” says the Irishman.

They all move into the cave.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s ghost darts past them into the cave. They ignore him. Apparently he makes sense to be here in full body apparition? Lacey freaks out.

“They stole Lem’s sperm!” says Jack proprietarily. He’s laughing. Holding a Bud Lite.

“It was mine too!” says Michael.

“Nevertheless they’re all actually my kids!!” yells Joe Kennedy Jr. in pain, trying to gain control of the situation as the oldest.

And at that Louis and the KKK emerge with tiki torches and knives. They all take turns stabbing Mr. Blue and Irishman to kill them but it’s slow going.

And at that Wobbly and Joeschmoshow are heard wailing from deep within the cave.

“Are those the screams of two male children?” asks Lacey.

“We can’t save them. Scott’s tried.” says Louis crying

“Where are their parents?” asks Lacey.

“They’re adults!” says Mr. Blue patronizingly.

“The darkness eats my soul.” says the full body apparition of Joe Sr. staggering around trying desperately to orientate himself.

And at that Lacey faints and is continually revived by the ghosts of the English Royal families as they carry her around. Louis breathes a sigh of relief. The KKK does seem relieved as well.

“There are no black people in this cave.” says Lacey, stunned. She wonders why the KKK are involved in this Gaelic cave?

She thinks.

And at that Michael stabs Mr. Blue in the head.

Lacey giggles. “Oh, that’s kind but it isn’t going to kill him, poor dear.”

Suddenly out of the blue, “Hey!! You all want to hear some cool stuff!? I collect pocket knives.” says Mr. Blue. He rattles on and on about pocket knives going forward. Lacey looks up at him and sees a pocket knife lodged in his head. It overwhelms her already heavily taxed mind.

And at that Michael picks her up and runs out of the cave. They sit and wait. Louis, Lem and Harold Loeb emerge dusting themselves off.

“What about those boys!?” says Lacey in a panic.

She runs into the opening of the cave and sees the KKK dancing with Mr. Blue and lighting fires. The Irishman looks finally wounded.

She stands there. She wonders. And at that Wobbly and Joeschmoshow emerge as pure evil.

Kick screams bloody murder with Athalia behind Lacey and so she turns around long enough to see a giant snake coming at her to swallow her alive. She says, “Move aside in the name of Jesus.” It does. Matter-of-fact it nods it’s head at her. She realizes her imminent danger though regardless and exits the cave.

She stands aghast. Realizes she’s not chained.

“You died. A little.” says Louis to explain.

“Or was that how they put her in chains to begin with?” asks Michael.

“They didn’t notice that I float when it blows?” asks Lacey.

“No!” says Vladimir Putin.

Igor Stravinsky: Le sacre du printemps is played by a dead orchestra outside the cave.

“Is he here to blow-up the cave to save the children underneath it or?” Lacey asks Michael.

Silence.

“Those are my kids.” says God about the children in slavery.

Lacey starts trying to request that God start the rapture.