Integrity
Currently under review.
An Institution Dedicated to the Preservation of Plausible Deniability
A distinguished, entirely fictional society honouring exceptional achievement in strategic silence, convenient memory loss, impeccable appearances, and the timeless art of saying, “It wasn’t me.”
Truth is optional. Membership is forever.
Founded in 2026, the Society of LCTFD exists to preserve the ancient traditions of selective recollection, professional deflection, and committee-based accountability.
Every detail is presented with absolute seriousness. The organization, however, is satire.
Currently under review.
Limited visibility.
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Someone else was in charge.
Never let facts interfere with a perfectly good story.
Why climb the mountain when you can imply you already did?
Every situation deserves at least two opinions.
If the truth becomes inconvenient, introduce a newer version.
Confidence is inversely proportional to actual knowledge.
Every member reserves the right to decline any question that may be inconvenient, embarrassing, unexpectedly accurate, or likely to produce paperwork.
Silence shall not be interpreted as guilt, innocence, competence, awareness, or availability.
Submit your application for provisional, conditional, revocable, and entirely unofficial membership.
The official sound of the Society: 1980s-inspired synth pop, new wave, dance rock, soaring vocals, massive choruses, crowd chants, and enough gated drums to shake the marble halls.
Bright synths · driving bass · shimmering guitars · arena finales
The ceremonial opening anthem of every Annual Ball.
A theatrical anthem for the Society's smoothest storyteller.
Royal banners, gold rings, and a chorus built for the ballroom.
Wear it proudly. Deny it formally.
Charm, misdirection, and a massive late-song key change.
A crowd-chant anthem for the Society's ceremonial entrance.
Add MP3 files to public_html/music/. The current play buttons are placeholders until the first official tracks are uploaded.
Six impeccably dressed performers. One mysterious invitation. Every song reveals another chapter inside the Society's marble halls.
View Season One“Believe me...”
White gloves. No explanations.
Every alibi deserves a solo.
Sunglasses after dark.
Never smiles. Always grooves.
Keeper of the purple banner.
A black envelope. A gold seal. No return address.
The gates open and nobody asks questions.
Vincent Velvet takes centre stage.
One ballroom. Two stories. Both confidently delivered.
The Society presents its least accountable honour.
The Grand Processional begins.
Officially, nothing happened.
Gold confetti, a final key change, and complete denial.
We decline to answer.
The committee has no recollection of forming a committee.
That is a very personal question.