The Legend of...

Did I tell you? I'm Lacy Fate, and I hate this. I mean I told Shandi, but it won't get me outta here. You know the story. Poor boy marries vulgarly rich girl. She grows possessive, then jealous and has him committed. Handy thing; her name's Pansy... as in Pansy Inc. As in: Pansy Pharmaceuticals, Pansy Financial, Pansy Communications, Pansy Cosmetics and Pansy Prosthetics. Or as in the non-profit charitable Pansy Foundation, which endows things like: Pansy Academy, Pansy Playhouse, Femgnostis, Pansy Park, and Pansy Clinic... not to forget... the world's most discrete gender sanatorium for the nervously neurotic rich... Pansy Pond!

Pansy Pond, the ultra secluded gilded cage, where wealthy commit-ters confine pesky commit-tees. Oh sure, there are actual wackos around this place, along with the few of us who figure we'll be wacky before long. Sooner or later, all of the, um... 'guests', at Pansy Pond wind up a few feathers short of a duck.

Did I tell you? I'm Lacy Fate. And soon I may take on the shape of any man's fantasy. I didn't use to be Lacy Fate. I used to be Tim Mitty. I was a trust banker who handled the details of the Pansy estate - when Shandi Pansy inherited it all. You know I really was in love with her. Really. Yea, I know that she glimmered in the glow of her gold, but jeez... She's a 34c-26-25 bundle of blonde, brown-eyed sex, with a Seven Sisters diploma and a Ph.D. in clinical psych from Rumptin. Yea, THE Oxford Rumptin. Hey, she's bright, articulate, drool-dripping gorgeous, weirdly kinky, twenty-eight, witty and stacked better than Pringles. Plus - worth about a quarter of a billion bucks! And she chairs the board at Pansy Inc. Now tell me you couldn't fall in love with that? Hah!

Seventeen months into our marriage Shandi starts to closely review one of the nuttier things that Pansy Foundation endows... an outfit called Femgnostis. Then - BOOM! Shandi concluded I was cheating. CHEATING! Look at my picture... um, my before picture.