Out in an open field under the shadow of massive waving American flag stands Undercover Lover with his back to the camera sporting only hotel slippers, bare legs, and his signature satin robe and mauve mask.
UL: To express my dismay, I begin with a JFK quoth: “Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth.” Think about what that quote means to a lecherous Lover and a sloth named Bobby Dean. It means that if we played by society’s rules, we’d be stuck in a rut: Stunted, in complete arrested development, and living in the world of “but”.
Lover looks down at the ground, letting out a melodramatic sigh as he shakes his head at the mere thought.
UL: “But” is nowhere I want to be. “But” only limits every person and thing I like to do and see. “But there are elderly people watching at home in bed.” So what? Their opinion wont matter in a week when they’re dead. “But marriage is a sacred bond.” Hey, I can’t help if some dude caught feelings and got conned. “But wont somebody think of the kids?” My parents didn’t when their marriage hit the skids. Instead of blaming the world and sulking about my problems, I ran up on every hard working ham and egger and robbed them.
Lover approaches the flagpole and starts unraveling the flag’s pulley rope from it’s anchor and slowly lowers old glory to half-mast.
UL: The funny thing is that Bobby Dean does the same. The only difference is he’s been around long enough to know how to rig the game. He’s got everyone rooting for debauchery as Larry breaks in his boots. Meanwhile Lover scratches and claws to get by on his own and is held in ill-repute. We’re doing the same thing but with our own unique spin. We both do the least amount of work possible in order to get the win. You’ve even grown so complacent that you’ve accumulated a gut, but once someone like me shows up on the scene looking to land a big score of his own? All that matters to Bobby Dean is “but”.
Lover, back still to the camera, unties his robe and lets a pink sock unfurl between his legs and swing loosely like a clock pendulum.
UL: “But he hit me with a sock. But I think he used a rock. Strike the win from his record and run back the clock.” This comes from a man who once eschewed all ifs, ands, and buts. Your hypocrisy is showing Bobby. You tried to give me the shaft, but only showed you’re nuts. You and I don’t live in a world where “buts” neutralizes our toxicity. “But” certainly doesn’t keep Bobby Dean from his promiscuous proclivities. Why should it stop me? that’s devolution! This is the evil of man that they wrote about when they penned the constitution! No church, no state, no angry PTA will stop the Undercover Lover from having it his way. Neither will the ironically monikered “Beautiful” Bobby Dean, especially when I know his sins are just as obscene.
The Lover reaches behind his head and pulls up his mullet’s mudflap, revealing the laces of his mask. He slowly begins to untie them as he continues speaking.
UL: And you accuse me of hiding behind a mask in shame? I’d argue that you do exactly the same. You mask your aging mediocrity with a young spry meat shield with a pale. You hide your kinks and your perversions under a quirky and playful veil. You hide your laziness and exploitation behind a comedic bit, just like your fat caboose hides every chair when you sit. For awhile I pondered who you were hiding from, and I think my assumption rings true. You don’t hide from the crowd who remembers, Lunch Box Larry, or even me: You’re hiding it all from you. You run from reality with a name like Beautiful, and you flee from mortality by leaching on to someone young and dutiful.
Lover finishes untying his mask, hesitates, and then sets to lacing it back up.
UL: You don’t deserve to lay eyes on perfection when you live in a lala land filled with contradicting deflections. At Capitol Clash they’ll need a hearse, B. Because for once in his life The Lover will have no mercy.
Lover stands at attention in all his glory as the camera fades on the ludicrous shot of him saluting the flag.