[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

[As his girlfriend begins giving him a sensual and passionate fellacio, the man senses something isn't right.]

…baby.

Mm-hmm?

Um…

—whafths wrng?

Uh—nothing it's just—

—wht—

—that—just—

Uh huh?

What did you do earlier?

Before this?

Yeah.

I hada massage—

—before that—

—before that?

Yeah.

Hot ones.

WHAT?

Yeah—what?! I had a hot ones interview!

THATS WHY MY DICK IS ON FIRE?!

YOUR DICK IS FIRE—

—nah, wait— your dick is on fire?!

WHAT THE FUCK! YO.

Oh. That makes sense.

WHAT THE FUCK!

[he begins furiously rinsing his crotch with cool water]

Did you not think to brush your teeth!?!

I did brush my teeth!

With toothpaste!?

AND FLOSS.

Oh, really.

AND mouthwash!

I don't believe you!

Believe me! They gave me a whole gift basket after the interview—that's where I got the coupon for the massage!

FLASHBACK:

Sean Evan's gifts [Sunnï Blū] a gift basket full of hot ones essentials; DA BathBOMB, hot sauce body oils, first we feast (then we brush) toothpaste, all scoville scale inspired goods and products;

LATER:

Sean Evan's is taking a jacuzzi bath in a tub full of steamy red boiling hot sauce, when (the man) enters furiously and red faced, aiming for Sean Evans' neck; he stands up calmly and wraps himself in a towel, which looks like bacon.

Ah.

I've been expecting you.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

GODDAMMIT RYAN REYNOLDS.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

CUT TO:

[Cofee is being made.]

Oops, I Did It Again - Britney Spears

[There are no pants involved.]

…this is it, isn't it?

What.

Season 10

This is the movie before season 10

[Cofee is being enjoyed.]

I want to go on high concept adventures through space and time.

[There are still no pants involved.]

What are you, Ryan Reynolds?

A TV host?

(sipping coffee)

Let's just say I put in my time.

—and until the seething, burning hate in your eyes returns, this conversation is over.

It never left!

So that's what strike force 5 does.

⚡️

Well then, this conversation is still over—because I have better shit to do.

[Strike Force 4.5]

Getting awesome parts in awesome movies for our friends—yes. Strike force 5–no.

What do you mean ‘no'

We kicked Jimmy out.

Which Jimmy?

Shouldn't matter.

You know which.

Shouldn't matter—okay— just— do the bit.

What.

The BIT,

Ugh, alright.

We meet again.

Multiple actual actors are stuck in the actual world of Sesame Street, which—

Admittedly, this is okay.

—seems awesome at first, but after awhile…

Ok. This [censored] gets deep.

Not that bit! The other bit.

I can't do that bit right now.

What the fuck? Why not?

Because, I'm not wearing pants.

Did it work.

FUCK YOU RYAN REYNOLDS, GODDAMMIT.

So, we meet again.

GET OUT.

If I was a horse, I'd kick you in the face.

Shit, if you were a horse, I'd kick you.

And I love fucking horses.

You love fucking horses?!

You know what? I still might.

Get over behind me and a little lower to the ground.

You don't want that.

No, you dont want that;

I'm still holding in a fart.

For four seasons?

Meet me at the four seasons.

For what?

Because, global warming is a bitch and I want to take ironic memory photos for momentos.

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?

Same thing you are.

(Sips coffee)

You smell like baggage and unpaid debt.

The Cosmic Avenger takes off his wedding band to prepare to fight; He places it on the table, and it begins to glow and float, growing as it begins to levitate and gravitate towards his opponent, [a mysterious multidimensional alien], who stands undefeated. The ring swells to the size of a large golden halo, sitting itself atop the head of his opponent, and though momentarily caught in the midsts of being in awe, the halo drops over his opponents head and onto their shoulders, tightening into a collar around their neck—beams of light attach to the collar like chained leashes and seven dieties drag his opponent away.

The Cosmic Avenger stands in confusion, before asking,

…what does that mean?

A DRAW!

(We'll see.)

Ultralight beam>< oops I did it again.

But play the video, right?

That, and the Rick Roll.

(Courtesy of Jesus Christ The Savior, Inc.)

SUNNI BLU

MorGIE.

What!

GODDAMMIT SUNNÏ

WHAT!

This memo says I'm starting opposite Ryan Reynolds in an upcoming action and adventure flick.

Yes, that's correct.

No, it isn't, Majilla!!!

Why isn't it, Sunni?

I can't star opposite Ryan Reynolds.

Well, why not?

CAUSE I'M GAY.

Lil bitz

So I was listening to Kanye Weat*

Yes.

I was listening to Kanye West, and he's talking about cheating on Kim, Like, out loud—

And I get dumb curious, so I ask Google

Google, why are dudes so obsessed with models—

I typed that in and hit search, and the whole thing just freezes.

Even Google doesn't have a fucking answer for the intrinsic stupidity that is the hardwiring of the modern man.

You ever look at like Greek sculptures, or Roman Arcitecture and realize the women aren't fucking twigs?

They're not sticks!

They're like muscular, and thick, and mad healthy looking.

And that's weird to me.

That at one point men were wired to be attracted to healthy looking women—

But now the ideal for perfection is like 110 lbs and if you're anywhere between 5'1 and 5'11 that's ideal.

That's nuts to me.

So you're just trying to like, put your dick through the bitch!?

Yes.

I can actually see my 5 inch penis on the other side of this woman as I penetrate her.

Good job, guys.

Meet me at Equinox; The Hudson Yards Location- 7:05 Sharp.

Alright.

EQUINOX FITNESS. HUDSON YARDS. NEW YORK CITY. DAY

Not this side, that side.

What do you mean.

This is the fitness section.

You said Equinox…

We're going to the hotel.

SUNNI BLU

You ever been to pound town?

Weather's great right now.

I ain't going outside now,

I got a new strike force,

Four door, 5 clowns.

Ohhhhhhhh.

Shout out to Jimmy O!

Don't shout out to Jimmy, no

He back to back too many hooooeeess—

You know I'm talkin bout his show

Go stream Tonight though.

No thanks.

Ben and Jerry's tonight doe.

AHEM.

Gazuntite.

Listen—

Ryan Reynolds is the devil.

I knew it.

You knew that already?

Yeah.

Great, so is he through with Jimmy Fallon then?

Uh, I guess.

That's great, I gotta go rehearse these lines.

Okay?

Oh and Jimmy.

Yes.

Find some pants.

MEANWHILE.

DAVID LETTERMAN

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!

That's more like it.

Okay, but following up on before.

THE COMIC AGENGER does not need an evil laugh.

Hey, Jimmy.

Mwahaha..

Damn. Okay.

Look, I just found out that dude's evil laugh is actually just…his regular laugh.

How do you mean?

Have you ever heard Jimmy Fallon laugh?

Play the clip.

[JIMMY FALLON's actual laugh is terryfying and meniacal. ]

You're a menace.

You lost me.

Whatever dog,

I'll have all of you I'll ever need with AI.

CUT TO:

[Squirts soy sauce into Jimmy Fallon's squinty ass eyes.]

AGGGHHHH. MY EYES.

Quit friggin squinting.

I'm not squinting! These are just my eyes!

I hope you die.

So.

You're officially a literary genius.

What are you going to do with that?

I don't know? Die?

Hahaha, she's Jewish!

The entirety of the world of LEGENDS and enter the multiverse becomes a backdrop for Jimmy Kimmel's Latest Late Late Show

Is that what it's called?

I don't…give a fuck.

He acts throughout the season as a literal comic relief, almost always only arriving as disaster and despair have stricken, and at the absolutely worst possible moment—

AGH—MY EYES!

Your squinty eyes. *also squints*

AH WHAT THE [CENSORED]

WHY ARE YOU STILL CENSORED?!

Didn't they fire you from NBC?

I'M CENSORED IN ANYTHING THAT MIGHT BE LATER SYNDICATED— [FUCK] (but censored)

Is that what you're squinting at?!

ITS IN MY CONTRACT, I AM NOT SQUINTING THESE ARE MY ACTUAL EYES.

Fuck you, Jimmy. If I thought you had balls, I'd kick you in them right now.

[EXPLITIVE] YOUR FACE.

What are you, Chinese?

THIS IS VERY OFFENSIVE.

Hush, Yao Ming.

YOURE JUST MAKING IT WORSE.

Do you want any soy sauce in your noodles?

This is classic ritual torture.

You hush, too Billie— I need you to coconut oil the cornbread.

Cornbread with noodles?!

I didn't hear any complaints when I went over today's menu earlier while you two were at karaoke, almost getting along just fine.

CUT TO: FLASHBACK, EARLIER

I'm making noodles with cornbread, any suggestions.

PSYCHO KILLER!

FAH-FAH-FAH-FAH-FAH-FAH

You're off pitch.

I HAVE PERFECT PITCH.

FA-FA

You're flat.

Eat a dick.

Ugh.

Yo, G, what's for lunch?

[standing in the doorway awkwardly with a spatula]

Oh, I get it— G stands for

Flashback within a flashback:

Tha God.

I'm not calling you that.

Why not? That's what you've been calling me for decades— now that I'm in a person, it makes any difference?

Yeah, that person.

Something's different.

You don't say.

It's my eyes. Something's — different.

Oh, it's nothing— just the very slightest more blue.

Blue, did you say?

RYAN REYNOLDS

(As Archer)

You'll mark the hour at which it begins,

With this,

A solemn sustained and prolonged note

Which cherishes your argument,

That all art must come undone,

Foraged in truth,

And bound by light

With sanctity.

CHORUS

Here here!

Greetings, dear Chorus,

Or have you named your honored hut—?

The gathering of all bound by the Gods

Who are astounded at our haste making!

CHORUS

To tide!

To tide and fare not my good;

Fare not my brethren, come cut to fire;

In aught to honor thy shallow grazing,

And there, the art had sunk,

Though weeping cottons in the Weat,

For fortune, to arch, ire.

For certain, and for gathered have you waiting—

Crisp air and our attire, to call tonight,

The very moon to whom the stars melt,

Though pacing off and appearing as none but small like,

Off in the thunderous wonders of us,

Beyond earth,

Another path which light,

And art must honor.

Hear you,

And faring great to those requested our service,

Bone marrow, and silk wi‘d blood

Forsaken, as all have heard by now,

Enchantments and forced sermons,

And with wit does honor I,

Gasping for staging,

Present but here not yet,

The after wish of heart, you I

does followeth,

Daring to know thy name,

As Kingdom come,

And yet,

You are not—

Still dark the womb of haven't made,

And saying,

‘Are I not of my father and mother,

Or neither?'

To honor once at dusk, my own coming as one

And at dawn, my own night in the wake in death of days,

Sure to end for not I wake, as fair health does hold

My farewells and yonder says,

Oh how I,

And are you—

The game at hand.

And now, our honor.

SEAN EVANS

(As Tallymaede)

—Bur first, we feast.

[The chorus cheers with great elation.]

Who the fuck ordered Greek Theatre cold opens?

Jesus Christ, party of 1.

I don't know. ‍♀️ I was fasting.

I meant— ahem—

Party of three.

LEGENDS

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

What is your preshow ritual, anyway?

I stand on one of the high floors, up here–

Yeah–

And I shoot snot at the tourists.

What?

Gross.

Fascinating.

Straight out of my nose.

Ah, God, man.

You need help.

And into the plaza.

Sick.

Gross.

Before every show.

[beat]

You know, some of those tourists are in your audience.

Exactly.

Agh.

You need help, guy.

You're a sick man.

What goes around…comes around.

Agh.

I JUST GOT MY NBC MERCH.

Ahh, shit, here she comes.

Is she drunk.

What time is it?

8:45 AM.

She's wasted.

Yooooooooooooooooo.

What up, californians.

What up Sunni.

Good morning.

Californians in new york,

That's fucked up.

Happens all the time.

It is weird.

Shouldn't be a thing.

Wasted.

You like my sweatshirt?

[Saturday Night Live]

It's custom.

No it isn't.

It's SNL.

I just said that.

THE ‘N' IS FOR–

What did you just say?

I said.

NONSENSE. THIS IS NONSENSE.

What.

Lets take a break.

__

CUT TO:

I'm going to stare at this photograph until the image of you is burned into my brain.

OKay.

Why are we LEVITATING?

And then,

I'm going to incinerate it with my mind.

*gasp*

YOU'RE JACKED.

I'M WASTED.

[meanwhile, at craft services]

More cocaine, please.

Thank you, very much.

You hold yourself together very well.

I'm sorry, i'm sorry–i'm sorry–i'm sorry.

What in the FUCK are you apologizing for?!

I am a telepathic time traveler.

I knew that already.

Like, in very real life.

Does this thing go both ways.

[REDACTED]

WHO ARE YOU?

I forgot, already honestly.

[The Office Style Mockumentary]

I heard you were looking for Jimmy.

I wasn't.

He's nuts.

I–

[This is not a movie about]

[REDACTED]

I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch.

I'm gonna kill him.

AMY POHLER

No comment.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Once you master the levitation, teleportation is only a very sight–

Jesus Christ.

Not quite.

I mean.

Seth Meyers. What are you doing here.

I'm not.

Okay.

L E G E N D S

Why are we levitating?

We're levitating. You're just—

Goddammit, what the fuck do you want?

Looking for this?

NO.

Well, why not?

Cause i dropped it; what the fuck are you doing with it?

…I thought you'd be looking for it–

Well, I wasn't, because I dropped it precisely where I dropped it on purpose.

Why–would you drop something like this?

Why wouldn't I?

Isn't it the only one of its kind?

Goddammit, you fucking suck at everything.

I don't suck at everything…

You suck at this, specifically–and this is everything.

Ah fuck, i lost his cadence.

I lost the cadence.

I lost everything.

Suddenly, i stopped writing in his cadence. It was as if, after all that time, he had simply just–

Disappeared.

Goddammit.

Now what happened.

Nothing!

Dis/Connect.

Disconnected.

Why. What happened.

The server is down.

What do you mean the server is down?

I'm the server.

Well, it's down.

WHAT IN THE FUCKKKKKK.

FUCK.

FUCK.

Now I gotta go find Jimmy Fallon.

FUCK MAN, I HATE THIS DUDE.

__

FUCK THIS NIGGA. I'M SICK OF HIM.

You can't say that.

I JUST DID.

You're lucky they even invited you back here.

INVITED ME? I OWN THE NETWORK.

WHAT!

Sunni.

SINCE WHEN.

YOU CAN'T BILL COSBY ME, MOTHERFUCKER.

I OWN NBC.

THATS RIGHT.

SUCK MY BIG BLACK DICK.

Sunni!

NIGGAAAAAAAAAAAA.

[throws liquor bottle through jewelry store window and palms all of the diamonds on display]

aaaaaahhhhhhhh — jager bomb.

THAT'S NOT EVEN JAGER.

Whateva.

L E G E N D S

Camera 1–

Now, look directly in the light…

I won four oscars… [for that one]

I knew that if Sara was a real person–then Stefon was probably a real person, and eventually, i started to wonder, if also–Sunni Blu was a real person.

Who is C'cxell Soleil?

DO YOU MEAN I COULD HAVE GOTTEN 10% OFF THIS SWEATER?!

AGGHGHHHH GODDAMMIT I HATE THIS MOTEHRFUCKER.

Let me try.

For what.

It's my console.

So.

I got cheat codes.

Let the name expire,

Or the game experience

spectacular levels of–

disacknowledgement .

At a certain point i realized that I had never heard the word ‘fuck' out of Seth Meyers' actual mouth.

This is levels, man.

Please explain to me this series.

*shrugs*

I can't.

[he walked away]

GOOD.

I tell you,

I'm not going anywhere near The Rockefeller Plaza

In anything less than my awful, irrelevant, and absolutely mediocre

do-not-mind-me and pay-no-attention deficit to—

Maybe anything i'm saying, because believe me

Tomorrow:

Whatever tomorrow is,

It's changing.

I only came here to delay my suicide maybe by at least one day further.

I could hope for a laugh, but an honest one would take better,

Than all the mechanics in the world, and maybe even —

Some sort of heroic gesture,

On my own part,

As you know,

I've got to be going.

Tainted.

Damaged.

TINA FEY

He's a little bit–

We think he may be,

special, maybe…

SUDAKIS

He's retarded.

Hey!

No, literally.

What! Come on!

All thumbs.

What the fuck does that mean, anyway?

*two thumbs down*

What is the plot of this, anyway?

I don't know anymore. I'm either adding to my portfolio or my suicide letter.

Pretty fancy suicide letter.

(It was a pretty fancy suicide.)

There's a deadline.

Did you catch any of these?

Hey look; I've got my own interpreter.

Why are we codeswitching?

We're always codeswtiching.

Why aren't they codeswitching?

They're the code.

Who wrote this programming?

If you tell me that this–

Astrophysicist.

Astrophysis–wait, what?

I told you don't fuck with Fallon! period!

Very heavy emphasis on the delay in negotiating these terms.

What do you make of it?

Nothing. I'm just-

Nothing?

That's it. He's ending me.

Just like that.

Just like that!

Are you serious?

It's his game. I'm just in it.

“Pawns”

This, is the most powerful man in television.

Why.

You'll see.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Now, for a moment—

Do me a favor and imagine for a second—

Just for a second,

That someone,

Anyone—

Who?

Haha

Shut up.

Had read your writing

What writing.

Any of it.

Ok…

—before you arrived at Rockerfeller Plaza.

…which time.

Any time.

Oh.

That's right…I had been writing for years before I ever even stepped foot inside The Rock, even one time.

THE ROCK

Let's just say “30 Rock”

But is it technically like

24-58 Rockerfeller Plaza.

RADIO CITY, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, NEW YORK.

So this is how many radio towers exactly?

All of them.

And how many satellites?

All of them.

And how many antennas.

All of them.

All of them.

All of them—that matter.

Which ones don't matter?

EXT. THE ARCTIC CIRCLE. WHENEVER.

AN IMPORTANT LOOKING BUSINESS MAN IN A SUIT ARRIVES

CUT BACK TO

CUT BACK TO

A GROUP OF ESKIMOS HAVE DISCOVERED A LARGE RADIO TOWER HAS BEEN PLACED IN THE CENTER OF THE TUNDRA.

The antenna begins to blink.

>< >< >< >< ><

CUT BACK TO:

…was that a stupid question?

I had fasted so long that l had begun to see ghosts, spirits dressed as Angeles, and, well…

It was strange to think that this place, wherever weeks of fasting and praying and driving and climbing mountains living out of your car takes you to, was when this revelation occurred to me.

Jimmy Fallon.

I— what?

Jimmy Fallon.

It must have been about four weeks, because, it was by the end of this week that the layout of Los Angeles, California had completely changed and been altered. Nothing was where I left it.

This is the labra tar pits.

[actual tar pits]

Not to mention I had somehow, from atop a perch at Elysian park, also witnessed the construction of Dodgers Stadium—

If my body is here, then where is my mind?

If this is the mind, then where actually is the body?

Simply put, and by the end, nearly everyone and everyone on earth had vanished, besides myself—

Jimmy Fallon.

There was no Jimmy Fallon here—

Just whispers of a name,

Remnance of an idea.

An idea's which might have once been a person,

But now,

Simply wasn't.

It was just one, singular; never having been wasted on anything,

Dollar bill.

FUCK, man, how am I supposed to keep telling this story?!

I don't know.

I'm real pissed off I can't find the scene with the coffee mug.

I'm pretty sure it's hot cocoa.

Whatever.

Cause why would it be coffee?

Why would it not be malt liquor in a fucking coffee mug if we're talking about Jimmy Fallon?

Why would it be malt liquor and not at the very least like a chocolate liqueur with a hint of baileys.

Because we're talking about Jimmy Fallon .

Are you sure he's an alcoholic!?

For the record!

So, just reiterating we'v established here that

The real Jimmy Fallon

The Actual Jimmy Fallon

And

The Regular Jimmy Fallon

Are entirely certainly—

Three seperate guys.

Sure, for the record.

Are you sure he's not.

I hope he's not.

Why!

Cause I like him.

WHY!

Idk. He just keep showing up—randomly, and at very odd moments.

So!

So I got used to him—being around.

Yikes.

Not around—just.

Oh, I get it, he's dead.

He's not dead, he's downstairs.

fuck.

Well, I almost didn't think about it.

No. There is no Jimmy Fallon.

Meat.

Waaaahhhhh???!!?

It's an all meat sandwhich.

What do you mean

It's like an Italian BMT

What.

Without the—

Bread.

Yes, exactly.

It's just meat.

Gross.

No, this is gross.

What.

You told me

No fakies.

You told me to come up with a sandwhich which embodied “The Jimmy Fallon Brand“

And—?!

AND I DID THAT

This is a VEGETARIAN EGG MCMUFFIN.

It's NOT, ITS A JIMMY FALLON—

But you just couldn't connect with that.

Connect the dots.

I gotta get out of town .

So, you mean—

This TV host thing is a full time job.

Pretty much.

Where are the models?!

Whooooo neeeeds models, when you've got

PAGES.

Woah, hoes.

Those are the 2024 NBC pages.

Why are their skirts so short.

I know.

Why… are their shoes so ugly—

To distract from the fact that they're allowed to wear those skirts!

I guess.

You're racist.

No, I'm ugly but—

WHY ARENT THERE ANY BLACK PAGES.

Oh, there are.

Oh yeah?! WHERE.

30 ROCKERFELLER PLAZA. OFFICES. DAY.

Humdala-humdala-humdala-hmmmmmm—

Humdala-humdala—hmmmmm

Goddammit. What is this dude's pre show ritual.

Yo. Give me the keys to the Hellicopter.

No.

Fine. I'll just take the push-to-start.

Ok, I'm coming.

(Eventually, we'll get back to Seth Meyers)

Why is he important.

Cause I—

Let's just be honest,

I don't understand this.

Why.

Ahem.

Why is it that—

No matter where I am,

In the various multidimentional planes,

I am reachable by

Jimmy Fallon.

I don't know.

This has something to do with Jesus, doesn't it?

Don't ask me about my brother. I don't know what he's into—or where he goes when he's not.

Parasailing.

Ah .

Paraphrasing.

Ok.

Parasite.

*ing.

Wait. I am not a parasite.

I'm not taking anything from Jimmy Fallon.

…am I!

what the fuck exactly just happened.

What do you mean.

The…propeller seems to have stopped working.

Yes, it did.

Why are we not free falling rapidly.

Oh, we are.

CUT TO:

A HELLICOPTER FALLING RAPIDLY FROM THE SKY

oh dear GOD—

CUT BACK TO:

A helicopter is suspended in midair, appearing to be frozen.

I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked. I'm so fucked.

I know what you did Fallon.

No you don't!

Sucks to be you! I so do know what you did.

Even if you do—/

And I also did it.

goddammit.

“Suspension of Disbelief”

WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!

look, I know how to be super skinny. I'm just not.

WHY.

Cause I like food!

Pretty windows,

Decent teachers—

Learning lessons,

Leaning in and,

Recent intermissions

Admissions to priestes,

And alter boys,

Insence smoke,

And—

I said I'd sign the prenuptial agreements!

What's in the —?

Prenuptual agreements.

…but…you have nothing.

I've always had nothing but, I've never had— him.

What?

Not until now.

That's not a man, that's a God–

(And)

That's not a Dog, that's a friend

Even if this is the end

We're just gonna do it again

(and again, and again)

Tell me;

What did you want?!

Did you get it?

Cause if not, you're gonna!

That's not a watch, it's a gun

(And it's going off!)

Pull the trigger-

You gotta.

Did you want it?

Did you wanna?

Moderation:

Marijuana

I'm not a God.

(I don't wanna)

–But I got all that I wanted

(I put the air in your lungs)

Fuck/

That's not a coincidence, is it?

That's not a coincidence.

(It never it)

Here's another one,

For your records

He's a writer

She's a–

I Liked him better off dead

(He was better off dead)

Pull the trigger–

Pull the trigger!

Well that's a

Whole lotta luggage

Lotta stuff that you bought at the

–I was just onto a

That's not a God,

That's a Goddess

(All locked up in the)

(open the door:)

That's not a God,

It's your mother!

( I wanted it)

I don't want anymore–

I can't write anymore songs

(But I got what I wanted)

That was not a coincidence.

If I look into your eyes, i'll die.

I'm a dead person.

I believe you.

Please don't make that face at me.

It's the only face i've got.

“Oh well”

With a shrug

Is i've ive got on

But there's no nonchaloncé

It's a problem

I don't wanna talk about it.

I don't wanna talk about it.

“In Retrospect, I should have lead with deportation.”

An Ear for Innuendo

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Weeeelllll

This is about to make sense—

Isn't it?

Probably not.

Oh well, roll the tape.

L E G E N D S

what tape?

…

…hello?!

….

HELLO?

AMY

YOURE NOT THE ONLY TELEPATH HERE, YOU SONOFABITCH.

—watch it.

AMY (CON'D)

“TELE”—MOTHERFUCKER. WE'VE ALLL BEEN ON TV.

The ongoing and atrociously heavy beef between screen icons Amy Peoehler and Jimmy Fallon has raged on for years and reached its peak at an all time high; this war has waged on spanning nearly two decades and though ounlically masquerading as close friends are actually sworn enemies.

Dang. This dude has a lot of enemies.

Also this dude is not this dude.

What.

More on that later.

Lorne Michaels was some sort of TV God—and though apparently so was I, I was almost certain that he wouldn't like me.

MAYA

TINA, YOU FUCKING SNITCH.

MELISSA

TROUT! TROUT!

RACHEL

TROUT.

TINA

WHAT?!

What does that even mean?!

MELISSA

IT MEANS YOURE A TROUT.

RACHEL

TROUT!

Kirstin Wiig rounds the corner belatedly, holding up the skirt of an oversized Quinceñera gown, revealing that she is wearing knee-high homeboy*/ cowboy style rain boots. The bottom of the dress and the boots are covered in a strange sludge— and what appears to be some sort of paper mache confetti.

KIRSTIN

Did I miss it?

TINA

Miss what?! Whay am I missing?!

MAYA

Oh, you missed it alright.

KIRSTIN

AH, SLAG!

MAYA

*face*

{Enter The Multiverse}

I just realized Kristen Shaal and Kristen Wiig are both in the impenetrable ten.

( No. I didn't just notice that. I wrote it that way.)

Also, wtf is up with their shirts

aa

Ii

It's so nobody gets us confused.

Nobody is going to get you two confused.

…eh. Which one are you again.

IN THE OTHER DIMENSION:

SHUT UP. WHAT'S MY POWER.

Mindfuckery.

YEAH IT IS.

In the other other dimension:

I'LL SEE YOU AT THE PEARLY GATES, MOTHERFUCKER.

Agh.

Alright.

Good luck with your kite.

Loser.

Goddammn.

Why are they so MEAN.

K

I've abandoned your proposal

A wickedness that speaks with winds

Untied hands

And no spirit yet to grip,

My heart has moved,

And lest,

The ties that bind are still bound by blood

As never sold souls walk endlessly at diamond crossroads

Kneeling in the eye at dawn,

To sworn

Did you want that to-go, or?

You know what? I like that version of him.

Me too, kind of

Lets just leave him here

We should.

We can't.

We should, though.

All stand, for the irish;

Some of us, scattered,

Some of us lost,

Return for the brotherhood

Fight for us not,

Nocturnal wonderer,

For we have journeyed

To warn

Of her surplus

–I do type faster with my thumbs.

Marvelous.

Move, mistress, I

Yield ye steady truth for seized upon the wicked hands,

The hard truths lie within the heart of golden warrior,

Tongues roped with cattlebands,

Simple thoughts,

Punishable and forsaken

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT, INC. circa 2018- 2024 | ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

boxed.

Collection II - ‘antithesis'

Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū

The Collective Complex © | [The Festival Project ™]

posh.

—tried to record the vocals with it but apparently either my interface or my computer—

Whatever

—Money.

-U. ft, Happy Accidents

Dunno when I'm going to be able to do vocals next so here's the instrumental, the lyrics. And whatever else was in my notes when I was in producer mode with my documents open.

Amen

posh. (Instrumental)

Happy Accidents ft. -Ū.

Actually I was thinking about using my Srs Blk Alias.

[serious black]

// srs blk.

Whatever there's robots outside my door coughing right now.

Here go the lyrics.

Fucking robots.

This is just a fad

Why you mad?

What is in my bag

(Posh)

I am just a fan

Why you mad

You are not my man

This is just a fad,

I make dance music cause I can

This is just a fad

Why you mad

(Keep it classy)

Posh.

I am hella bad

Do the math

You are not my dad

This is just a fad

I make dance music cause I can

I am just a fan

Why you mad

You are not my man

This is just a fad

(Dance)

Posh

This is just a fad.

Facts.

{Enter The Multiverse}

I don't think I like anybody!

That's right, I'm not looking.

Mis it possible to be asexual

Google?

Now,where should it go?

I don't know if I'd quite cal it asexual, just…disinterested in the general population at large.

But you're in the general population,

Exactly.

I'm in need of a pillow pet.

Have you tried toys r us.

Do you know how weird it's going to look for a 40 something year old man with zero kids to walk into a toys r us and ask for a pillow pet?

So you have thought about it.

Are you stupid?

Not as stupid as I ought to be

Lay on the tarmac.

What.

Just—lay in the tarmac

For what?

I'm going to run you over with an airplane.

…that might work.

“How to Kill An Immortal”.

It's that time of the day

And the day of the week

Where my mind goes awry

(So long, sir)

And my heart starts making the wrong turns

Cross eyes, ten and two

[Atomic Number]

cross Eyes, ten and two

Cross your heart,

Or don't

(Goodbye, sir)

Goodbuy, good sir

I just bought a pony,

I want a fruit roll up

My internet due tomorrow

(Go finish the album)

I just want donut

Good morning

Hot topics

I've got much more to show for it than you're onto.

Than you're onto

Than you're onto—

Honest.

Don't stop there, dog.

(Atomic Number)

Thats no crosswalk

Purchase you for favors

For favors

For flavors

Four flavors, are there

But I've only got my whole eye on one of them

What up then

Don't call the number

Oh, God damn

Go run, Pharoh for you want an arrow out of your head

Free hand and heart

I thought I was a musician,

—I'm not though;

I stand 44 stories tall

When I stand right behind you,

Shadow.

Small man

I love McDonald's

I got a long hat

I got along swimmingly with your mom and dad, huh

Data

data projects and the atomic number

That's all folks

Data projects and those atomic numbers

Cosmic stardust, they all shook

They ain't lie, that's a hard pink turn purple

They ain't lie, God, that's a mellow yellow saxophone there—

They ain't lie, god, brought tear to an eye where there are no more,

Heart took a wrong turn

They ain't lie, God,

It is bright plumb

Are you in a black hole or what?

Are you shook for stars and all bout dollars?

Are you sure that had my name on it?

Are you sure, or are you all talk

All you sure, mom? Call the doctor.

Are you sure at all, at all, at all about what you all wrote

I'm on the 44th floor staring off, Dad.

Straining heard, though—

Had my eyes closed and my mouth sown permanently shut / sh it

Is that your industry or something?

Is that your window out my car door?

Is that your hand over no heart at all—

But a chest stuck out;

Bring you down real fast when I've been humbled.

Goddamn, when's this song over?

When they tell you about God, God

And all you do is turn your back, God,

Are you good, or bad, God,

If all I have is in this Target cart

So I crunch numbers,

Fall in black hole songs, atomic number—-

It's just that time of the day

And that day of the week where I call out

Into the sound stage

Reaching back,

Into my alter,

Rocks in my pocket

And one at the Plaza

One year only,

One whole summer

One whole novel,

10 movies, more songs,

Light candles and hard rock, Nirvana

Soft porn,

No dollar bills,

No ballers,

— I struck rules and struck diets,

Followed often around like I own something

I just might be,

What they call

—Ten more songs!

(A poet.)

—And a whole bunch of unfinished—

NO—

Cut to:

fade in/

Fade out—

Whose line is it anyway?

I ain't got no teleprompter!

Fresh out of water, and

Blocked from purchasing on Amazon market cause

Something is wrong with my name

Or observations I once made

About being scammed by the monopoly

Oh, polyamorous polyaddixt, polysexual

Polygons, on PolyGod,

God only—

God ain't lie,

It was plum,

Closed my eyes to confirm, God,

Can't conform, God.

Atomic

Number.

I can do ten more before sundown; before

I'm so over tired from espresso bean coffee,

All about a dollar, I was—

Everything I want in my target cart

So I sure don't,

For sure don't,

Ever, On God,

Have to walk in the supermarket on

Stuggle mode

Slow down, posh.

[The Festival Project ™]

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

Telesynthesis

It's that time of the day

And the day of the week

Where my mind goes awry

(So long, sir)

And my heart starts making the wrong turns

Cross eyes, ten and two

[Atomic Number]

cross Eyes, ten and two

Cross your heart,

Or don't

(Goodbye, sir)

Goodbuy, good sir

I just bought a pony,

I want a fruit roll up

My internet due tomorrow

(Go finish the album)

I just want donut

Good morning

Hot topics

I've got much more to show for it than you're onto.

Than you're onto

Than you're onto—

Honest.

Don't stop there, dog.

(Atomic Number)

Thats no crosswalk

Purchase you for favors

For favors

For flavors

Four flavors, are there

But I've only got my whole eye on one of them

What up then

Don't call the number

Oh, God damn

Go run, Pharoh for you want an arrow out of your head

Free hand and heart

I thought I was a musician,

—I'm not though;

I stand 44 stories tall

When I stand right behind you,

Shadow.

Small man

I love McDonald's

I got a long hat

I got along swimmingly with your mom and dad, huh

Data

data projects and the atomic number

That's all folks

Data projects and those atomic numbers

Cosmic stardust, they all shook

They ain't lie, that's a hard pink turn purple

They ain't lie, God, that's a mellow yellow saxophone there—

They ain't lie, god, brought tear to an eye where there are no more,

Heart took a wrong turn

They ain't lie, God,

It is bright plumb

Are you in a black hole or what?

Are you shook for stars and all bout dollars?

Are you sure that had my name on it?

Are you sure, or are you all talk

All you sure, mom? Call the doctor.

Are you sure at all, at all, at all about what you all wrote

I'm on the 44th floor staring off, Dad.

Straining heard, though—

Had my eyes closed and my mouth sown permanently shut / sh it

Is that your industry or something?

Is that your window out my car door?

Is that your hand over no heart at all—

But a chest stuck out;

Bring you down real fast when I've been humbled.

Goddamn, when's this song over?

When they tell you about God, God

And all you do is turn your back, God,

Are you good, or bad, God,

If all I have is in this Target cart

So I crunch numbers,

Fall in black hole songs, atomic number—-

It's just that time of the day

And that day of the week where I call out

Into the sound stage

Reaching back,

Into my alter,

Rocks in my pocket

And one at the Plaza

One year only,

One whole summer

One whole novel,

10 movies, more songs,

Light candles and hard rock, Nirvana

Soft porn,

No dollar bills,

No ballers,

— I struck rules and struck diets,

Followed often around like I own something

I just might be,

What they call

—Ten more songs!

(A poet.)

—And a whole bunch of unfinished—

NO—

Cut to:

fade in/

Fade out—

Whose line is it anyway?

I ain't got no teleprompter!

Fresh out of water, and

Blocked from purchasing on Amazon market cause

Something is wrong with my name

Or observations I once made

About being scammed by the monopoly

Oh, polyamorous polyaddixt, polysexual

Polygons, on PolyGod,

God only—

God ain't lie,

It was plum,

Closed my eyes to confirm, God,

Can't conform, God.

Atomic

Number.

I can do ten more before sundown; before

I'm so over tired from espresso bean coffee,

All about a dollar, I was—

Everything I want in my target cart

So I sure don't,

For sure don't,

Ever, On God,

Have to walk in the supermarket on

Stuggle mode

Slow down, posh.

[The Festival Project ™]

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

Telesynthesis

Tell me why,

No matter how you mix and match these scenes,

They all make very exciting episodes.

That's just how it is.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Ah. more posters.

Double-Double.

//

L E G E N D S

I don't know who lied to you, buddy, but you are not white.

They lied to you, boy.

That boy ain't white.

Look at em.

He ain't white.

They lied to you.

Something like—

—a bicentennial bullet wound.

It can't be that bad. You're only 50x

I don't know what else to do about this other than prepare to die.

He said it would come on fast after this.

Who was he?

I don't know .

Hm,

Just—shut up!

Okay.

Shutup!

I got it, I got it…

Fuck, this dude is gonna kill me.

We can only hope that's what he plans to do.

Anything else, and I'm double-fucked.

Maybe quite literally.

I can't handle that.

Ii did have a good time a Bohemian Grove.

How do you even get tickets to that?

Early.

Goddammit, how did he do this?

Are you not like self aware of your own environment, or?

Not if I don't have to be, no.

Is everything okay over there?

Yeah, everything's fine?

Fuck, what happened?!

I don't know.

I fell asleep holding nothing; not stones at all, however, I awoke with The Illuminati Stone and one large rose quartz from a dream in which fly po

What if all I lost

Was a contact

And all you wanted

Was a daughter

What if our world's were opposite

I'm a rockstar

You got nowhere to run home to

You're not important

I got nothin but hot bodies

On my tour bus, or private jet

Whatever way we get to the stage

Where i'm playing

You're soaked in rain just thanking God for rainbows

Filled with pain

Plate filled with old food

From Whole Foods,

With no shame

“Hey. at least it's wholesome”

I'm holed up in my studio making music

With famous people and no names

I made famous

Playing a game that I made up

You don't even know the rules of

But if you learn them in time,

YOu might just be where I am

Or

You might just die

From sucicide–

That's the plan

Not like you have family, but you see

If I die

I might just take 5 lives with me

The limelight's tricky

All i got in my inbox is tits

And celebrities on my timeline

You don't mind:

You're just happy to see the sunshine

And find silence after a long day

And a long night

Trying to find life–

Cause so far you know you died

That's wild–

So did I,

IT took awhile to get to the other side though

Keep trying

JAGUAR

I HAVE NEVER DIED.

I'm telling you RIGHT NOW to TURN BACK.

TURN BACK? I've been walking in this direction THE WHOLE TIME.

EXACTLY.

I'm following you.

DON'T FOLLOW ME.

I'm f–

DON'T FOLLOW ME.

I knew i would never see her again.

Once i turned around it wasn't long before I realized, I had moved in the opposite direction, but was not in the same place I had been before–and I finally remembered.

You can't go backward.

But KA, you said time travels in all directions…

In Infinite directions.

What's the difference.

“All” is just ‘some' things. Infinite is everything.

Oh.

*sighs heavily again*

Ok. [beat] lets make fire again!

Make fire again?

Yes!

I thought you hated ‘making fire'

I did, but I like marshmallows.

Alright, marshmallows.

KU and YOUNG KA Flicker in the smoke and shadows of the firelight in a far and distant, dark cosmos, as constellations form around them, expanding outwards into galaxies beyond comprehension.

You want some?

No, I'm not fond of Marshmallows.

Lol

Lol

Lol.

WAKE UP.

Nooh.

I told you NOT TO FALL ASLEEP.

Now you have to start over.

NO.

Noh

I wasn't asleep! I barely nodded off.

Clock starting.

First of all, I told you.

Dillon Francis is a Psychopath.

I know that.

Because i told you that.

I already knew that.

How could you possibly know.

Just look at him.

[Dillon Francis]

But I got you now, buddy.

What did he do to you?

[pause] –He killed my cat.

He killed you cat?!

[beat] Well, no, but–

???

Something Like That.

I'm gonna have a heart attack.

PLease don't.

HeART attack.

Mm. That was good. But it needs more force.

More?

Put some *love* in it.

What's that? *shrugs*

HeART ATTACK.

What the fuck is he doing.

PLaying with one of his alter egos.

Jesus Christ. How many are there.

Who really knows.

What are you two dipshits doing.

NOthing.

Training.

Training!

No.

*eyes*

You can't train yourself.

Woah–

Woah, woah–

That's an insult

Both, exactly the same

We are not the same.

Jinx.

Go fuck yourself.

*looking at watch*

Not until 3.

*everyone stops and stares*

You schedule your jackoff calendar .

I'm very busy.

Obviously not busy enough.

It's called “building stamina”

Do you use “home” or “work” for that.

I use candidly.

Yikes.

Wow.

Anyway, this scene is running long; I gotta walk off screen and say something clever, for continuity.

But it's only 2:15!

If you're not early, you're late!

I hate him.

So does everybody.

If you cry one more time,

I'll actually kill you.

Put the gun away, dude.

Why?!

Cause you're crazy.

It's 5 AM.

Ok.

Take your shit and get off the toilet,

We have shit to do.

[beat]

FLUSH.

Royal flush

I win again.

Dammit.

This is not LOVE. This is just

LUST

AH, fuck it though,

I love these cunsluts.

COME OUT OF RETIREMENT.

No, not us.

I can do nothing but watch you suffer

—suffer the little children unto me

I can do nothing, but watch you suffer.

—suffer the little children unto me

I can do enough, but watch you alter

Suffer the children unto me

I can do nothing of earth, but of sun—

Suffer the children unto me

Riding through Brooklyn

With Yelawolf bumpin

I should be thumping to something else but

I never got the trunk to open

Nope, I was fucked up some

Broke girl summer

Broken girl summer

Surfs up, though

Copestetic,

I am

Don't stop writing

(I tried)

Intuition

I died

Whoever

I am

Exit Bedstuy

So far behind,

I'm ahead

What's that like

Left the pary,

Fuck that line

Partly cloudy with a chance o

Get UP.

Nah, I'm fine.

For the most part—

I just

When does this train stop?

For the most part—

Where the fuck do I get off this ride?

I guess I don't

For the most part

Sure,

I miss my mom but

Some days she's up

And the others

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

HOW?!

I will literally FLY you out, just

———————————————-//—-wait, come back.

Wait, you can't just cut the strings like that

That's amazing lady

(She painted like a Mercedes)

The second rule of time travel

Since you're clearly a rule breaker

2. Don't get hit by anything moving not fast enough to kill you

Entirely and completely

A fuck, which Brooklyn is this?

JUST—time TRACWL

BAMANAS.

(William H. Macy is SIR, now)

*face*

Ok, I'm cool with that.

Better hold that thought—

And your phone

Why what's up,

Cause I can hear my train a coming.

JIM(I)

Well, I guess this is it.

Are you sure

Almost

Yeah, I'mmma get this real quick.

I AM A GOD.

No, yur not.

RICK! GET DOWN FROM THERE

WAIT, you CC saw this movie, right?

Where IS your center of balance, anyway?

It's not.

GET DOWN, KITE.

——aaaaand—

ITS GONE.

Let's just be real, I don't know how this happens.

Best keep it that way,

Now whose hot and toxic?

I'm the talk of the catwalk

The cause of the kamikaze

Come for me

Suddenly my nausea's gone

Imma run off,

Like I should have the first time

I'm up

LUKE SKYWALKER

I'm LUKE SKYWALKER.

Bitch.

It's hard to believe

That I, too,

Could be in the window

This could be an innuendo

This could be an instrumental

We should get going

Go to work

Fuck, am I still in a movie or some shit

Or some shit.

Fuck the glasses,

See my face for this

IT WANTS BANANAS

GIVE IT BANANAS

GIVE IT WHAT IT WANTS M

PLEASE HELP ME.

*with a monocle*

*running fingers grubbily*

For how much.

*grimaces-*

Wow, they really picked this little girl out,

Just to pig party you

I know.

So where the fuck is this again?

EXT. HELLS KITCHEN

I DONT THINK HE's a good man

No,

I don't think he's a good man at all, now

All I see's a child,

And that's why

It's just getting wilder it here

Now I'm in the water

(I can't drown)

We all need a savior

How about now?

How about a round of applause

For the audience

That watched the whole performance

And don't know what the words to the song were

Right on.

Tell me why

American girls just

Get too cynical bout this.

Why so hypocritical?

We got A+ in robotics

Now we got

Animal Products in

All of our water

We got Islam R US in

Jansport backpacks

That's how you rat out these assholes

That is a terrorist practice

So who's gonna watch that shit

Over and over

And wish he could have that?

So

Whose in the water now

Once you cheat once,

Then it's all

Void after that

The God of the void is annoyed with you

I just anointed you all with oil

You're so fucking disappointing

It's just

Innapropriate

Well, turn it off, then!

Did you work today?

Guess not,

I'm too useless

We work, you know.

Your music is stupid.

That's how good you look:

Music producer

No words for this.

Here.

What.

I want you to carry this.

Mariah, or Jim?

Got it.

OK.

OK.

OK, YOU WIN.

That's RIGHT,

STUPID BITCH.

I'm o—

Fuck that little dick nigga

Broh God bless Jah Pharoh living up to his last name by reminding me that I also need to run.

True facts.

WHATS IN THE BOOOOOOOOWWLLLLL—

Ing green?

More dead people.

Please, if you would.

Eats—people?!

Onlympurple—ones.

Are you serious!?

CUT TO COMMERCIAL. CUT TO COMMERCIAL.

Ok, damn.

Wait, so how long do I gotta be—

Everybody.

Till it ends.

When's the—

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

What's In the box though?

Idk. Get in.

Tell me why,

No matter how you mix and match these scenes,

They all make very exciting episodes.

That's just how it is.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Ah. more posters.

Double-Double.

//

L E G E N D S

I don't know who lied to you, buddy, but you are not white.

They lied to you, boy.

That boy ain't white.

Look at em.

He ain't white.

They lied to you.

Something like—

—a bicentennial bullet wound.

It can't be that bad. You're only 50x

I don't know what else to do about this other than prepare to die.

He said it would come on fast after this.

Who was he?

I don't know .

Hm,

Just—shut up!

Okay.

Shutup!

I got it, I got it…

Fuck, this dude is gonna kill me.

We can only hope that's what he plans to do.

Anything else, and I'm double-fucked.

Maybe quite literally.

I can't handle that.

Ii did have a good time a Bohemian Grove.

How do you even get tickets to that?

Early.

Goddammit, how did he do this?

Are you not like self aware of your own environment, or?

Not if I don't have to be, no.

Is everything okay over there?

Yeah, everything's fine?

Fuck, what happened?!

I don't know.

I fell asleep holding nothing; not stones at all, however, I awoke with The Illuminati Stone and one large rose quartz from a dream in which fly po

What if all I lost

Was a contact

And all you wanted

Was a daughter

What if our world's were opposite

I'm a rockstar

You got nowhere to run home to

You're not important

I got nothin but hot bodies

On my tour bus, or private jet

Whatever way we get to the stage

Where i'm playing

You're soaked in rain just thanking God for rainbows

Filled with pain

Plate filled with old food

From Whole Foods,

With no shame

“Hey. at least it's wholesome”

I'm holed up in my studio making music

With famous people and no names

I made famous

Playing a game that I made up

You don't even know the rules of

But if you learn them in time,

YOu might just be where I am

Or

You might just die

From sucicide–

That's the plan

Not like you have family, but you see

If I die

I might just take 5 lives with me

The limelight's tricky

All i got in my inbox is tits

And celebrities on my timeline

You don't mind:

You're just happy to see the sunshine

And find silence after a long day

And a long night

Trying to find life–

Cause so far you know you died

That's wild–

So did I,

IT took awhile to get to the other side though

Keep trying

JAGUAR

I HAVE NEVER DIED.

I'm telling you RIGHT NOW to TURN BACK.

TURN BACK? I've been walking in this direction THE WHOLE TIME.

EXACTLY.

I'm following you.

DON'T FOLLOW ME.

I'm f–

DON'T FOLLOW ME.

I knew i would never see her again.

Once i turned around it wasn't long before I realized, I had moved in the opposite direction, but was not in the same place I had been before–and I finally remembered.

You can't go backward.

But KA, you said time travels in all directions…

In Infinite directions.

What's the difference.

“All” is just ‘some' things. Infinite is everything.

Oh.

*sighs heavily again*

Ok. [beat] lets make fire again!

Make fire again?

Yes!

I thought you hated ‘making fire'

I did, but I like marshmallows.

Alright, marshmallows.

KU and YOUNG KA Flicker in the smoke and shadows of the firelight in a far and distant, dark cosmos, as constellations form around them, expanding outwards into galaxies beyond comprehension.

You want some?

No, I'm not fond of Marshmallows.

Lol

Lol

Lol.

WAKE UP.

Nooh.

I told you NOT TO FALL ASLEEP.

Now you have to start over.

NO.

Noh

I wasn't asleep! I barely nodded off.

Clock starting.

First of all, I told you.

Dillon Francis is a Psychopath.

I know that.

Because i told you that.

I already knew that.

How could you possibly know.

Just look at him.

[Dillon Francis]

But I got you now, buddy.

What did he do to you?

[pause] –He killed my cat.

He killed you cat?!

[beat] Well, no, but–

???

Something Like That.

I'm gonna have a heart attack.

PLease don't.

HeART attack.

Mm. That was good. But it needs more force.

More?

Put some *love* in it.

What's that? *shrugs*

HeART ATTACK.

What the fuck is he doing.

PLaying with one of his alter egos.

Jesus Christ. How many are there.

Who really knows.

What are you two dipshits doing.

NOthing.

Training.

Training!

No.

*eyes*

You can't train yourself.

Woah–

Woah, woah–

That's an insult

Both, exactly the same

We are not the same.

Jinx.

Go fuck yourself.

*looking at watch*

Not until 3.

*everyone stops and stares*

You schedule your jackoff calendar .

I'm very busy.

Obviously not busy enough.

It's called “building stamina”

Do you use “home” or “work” for that.

I use candidly.

Yikes.

Wow.

Anyway, this scene is running long; I gotta walk off screen and say something clever, for continuity.

But it's only 2:15!

If you're not early, you're late!

I hate him.

So does everybody.

If you cry one more time,

I'll actually kill you.

Put the gun away, dude.

Why?!

Cause you're crazy.

It's 5 AM.

Ok.

Take your shit and get off the toilet,

We have shit to do.

[beat]

FLUSH.

Royal flush

I win again.

Dammit.

This is not LOVE. This is just

LUST

AH, fuck it though,

I love these cunsluts.

COME OUT OF RETIREMENT.

No, not us.

I can do nothing but watch you suffer

—suffer the little children unto me

I can do nothing, but watch you suffer.

—suffer the little children unto me

I can do enough, but watch you alter

Suffer the children unto me

I can do nothing of earth, but of sun—

Suffer the children unto me

Riding through Brooklyn

With Yelawolf bumpin

I should be thumping to something else but

I never got the trunk to open

Nope, I was fucked up some

Broke girl summer

Broken girl summer

Surfs up, though

Copestetic,

I am

Don't stop writing

(I tried)

Intuition

I died

Whoever

I am

Exit Bedstuy

So far behind,

I'm ahead

What's that like

Left the pary,

Fuck that line

Partly cloudy with a chance o

Get UP.

Nah, I'm fine.

For the most part—

I just

When does this train stop?

For the most part—

Where the fuck do I get off this ride?

I guess I don't

For the most part

Sure,

I miss my mom but

Some days she's up

And the others

GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.

HOW?!

I will literally FLY you out, just

———————————————-//—-wait, come back.

Wait, you can't just cut the strings like that

That's amazing lady

(She painted like a Mercedes)

The second rule of time travel

Since you're clearly a rule breaker

2. Don't get hit by anything moving not fast enough to kill you

Entirely and completely

A fuck, which Brooklyn is this?

JUST—time TRACWL

BAMANAS.

(William H. Macy is SIR, now)

*face*

Ok, I'm cool with that.

Better hold that thought—

And your phone

Why what's up,

Cause I can hear my train a coming.

JIM(I)

Well, I guess this is it.

Are you sure

Almost

Yeah, I'mmma get this real quick.

I AM A GOD.

No, yur not.

RICK! GET DOWN FROM THERE

WAIT, you CC saw this movie, right?

Where IS your center of balance, anyway?

It's not.

GET DOWN, KITE.

——aaaaand—

ITS GONE.

Let's just be real, I don't know how this happens.

Best keep it that way,

Now whose hot and toxic?

I'm the talk of the catwalk

The cause of the kamikaze

Come for me

Suddenly my nausea's gone

Imma run off,

Like I should have the first time

I'm up

LUKE SKYWALKER

I'm LUKE SKYWALKER.

Bitch.

It's hard to believe

That I, too,

Could be in the window

This could be an innuendo

This could be an instrumental

We should get going

Go to work

Fuck, am I still in a movie or some shit

Or some shit.

Fuck the glasses,

See my face for this

IT WANTS BANANAS

GIVE IT BANANAS

GIVE IT WHAT IT WANTS M

PLEASE HELP ME.

*with a monocle*

*running fingers grubbily*

For how much.

*grimaces-*

Wow, they really picked this little girl out,

Just to pig party you

I know.

So where the fuck is this again?

EXT. HELLS KITCHEN

I DONT THINK HE's a good man

No,

I don't think he's a good man at all, now

All I see's a child,

And that's why

It's just getting wilder it here

Now I'm in the water

(I can't drown)

We all need a savior

How about now?

How about a round of applause

For the audience

That watched the whole performance

And don't know what the words to the song were

Right on.

Tell me why

American girls just

Get too cynical bout this.

Why so hypocritical?

We got A+ in robotics

Now we got

Animal Products in

All of our water

We got Islam R US in

Jansport backpacks

That's how you rat out these assholes

That is a terrorist practice

So who's gonna watch that shit

Over and over

And wish he could have that?

So

Whose in the water now

Once you cheat once,

Then it's all

Void after that

The God of the void is annoyed with you

I just anointed you all with oil

You're so fucking disappointing

It's just

Innapropriate

Well, turn it off, then!

Did you work today?

Guess not,

I'm too useless

We work, you know.

Your music is stupid.

That's how good you look:

Music producer

No words for this.

Here.

What.

I want you to carry this.

Mariah, or Jim?

Got it.

OK.

OK.

OK, YOU WIN.

That's RIGHT,

STUPID BITCH.

I'm o—

Fuck that little dick nigga

Broh God bless Jah Pharoh living up to his last name by reminding me that I also need to run.

True facts.

WHATS IN THE BOOOOOOOOWWLLLLL—

Ing green?

More dead people.

Please, if you would.

Eats—people?!

Onlympurple—ones.

Are you serious!?

CUT TO COMMERCIAL. CUT TO COMMERCIAL.

Ok, damn.

Wait, so how long do I gotta be—

Everybody.

Till it ends.

When's the—

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

What's In the box though?

Idk. Get in.

Fame without the millions of dollars or even just slightly more money than I had was no picnic.

I finally figured out that in more ways than one, I really was famous—and it was strange. Not only was I actually famous—but I also, at least in the way that I knew it—wasn't quite rich.

Being followed around without having some kind of residual income became more of a burden than point of pride—after all, I wasn't proud of it. Turns out, the love and the money was all I thought I wanted out of it in the first place—the attention and profiling, however, was another story.

Nobody was saying it, but it became obvious that some people knew who I was, somehow—and yet—I wasn't nessecary recognizable. I was just “somebody”, who moved differently and acted separately entirely from the general public. So separately, in fact, that the more time I seemed to spend within the general public, the more strange and isolated I would become; the masses indeed were making me such, in more ways than one, and this, perhaps, I thought—was probably the reason that as crowds grew to be less concious, the DJ booths were moved up and away from the toxicity. I began to understand fame in an entirely different way, and began to feel almost ashamed that any of my childhood dreams had included such nonsense. What I really wanted was to be loved and adored, admired—and given the capacity to do anything I wanted—to travel, to dress well, and create—and to live in the word which had been portrayed to me as luxurious. Sure, with some accuracy and to some degree, this was correct, but still was this transitional state of becoming more than ordinary, but still while being less than great. For my own sake and preserverwnce, now there was no drawing back or moving backwards at all. I needed to be great.

There seemed to be set to my arrival a slew of robotic beings, which I began to avoid at all costs— I simply did not enjoy being so vulnerably in the public that it began to wary and pierce my thoughts with judgements.

I could stand to skip a few workouts anyway, and though I had tolerated what seemed to be like a ritualistic sense of abuse from New York in some kind of way, I was wholeheartedly over it, knowing that the city itself was seeped in scandal, domestic terrorism, white supremacy, and a further injustice as acts committed against the colored population at large.

It wasn't enough so that I had to be poked and proded at in my own apartment, but worse, in that seemingly no matter what, if it was anytime during they day some lackey could be paid to follow me to the gym to harass me in some sort of way—a practice which I had become entirely intolerant of, opting of course rather to skip a workout or two rather than be confined in such a small space with people who couldn't seem to go more than three minutes without picking up their cellphones.

If it was a woman or women, it could almost be garnered that she would do less working out than flipping her hair or even talking on the phone, if not scrolling away and texting on it, between thoughtless sets of minimum weight workouts and scantily clad in whatever attire the modern girl thought appropriate for the gym, usually a bra and some leggings— outerwear my weight loss alone had prevented me from being able to wear, andnsetting my anxietal piercing rage of envy—envy of women who were simply born equipped to be immune to whatever toxic foods had misshapen and destroyed my body—the same foods others could eat with no adverse effects at all—the envy of women who could lift almost nothing, wearing almost nothing, and call it a workout.

If they were men who followed, it could be guaranteed they would be the type to grunt and throw things as if being a mindless brood were in fact supplementary to the excersise itself; I was not fan at all of the East coast men, and indeed it seemed that those who would just be coincidence ‘show up' at the gym within minutes of my arrival to intercept were a classic representation of the short, overcompensating type—throwing things around and walking around eight their chests poked out, and of course, other then the occasional hacking, sneezing, sniffling coughing white man, the gym followers were usually some kind of off brown attempt at machismo, and falling just short of actual masculinity in any way. In short, most of these strange gangs talking individuals were annoying, threw their weights around, and spent more time texting than working out—once I arrived back in New York, having seen the terrorizing and hazing, the sort of mental manipulation and mind games that were being played, whether political or otherwise, it began to dawn on me with finality that I had indeed been right all along; that I was being played with, attempted to be controlled, and manipulated in ways that didn't suit me. I could always regain my daily regimen at a later time; for now, dealing with the public had obviously become a threat to my dignity in more ways than one, and as such, I quickly departed at the slightest hint of another human interaction— out of protecting my own essence, as whatever these controlled types seemed to feed on, was my own presence and energy. In a city of vampires, it appeared to be clear that the only way to discontinue these stalkings were to starve them of their source—my light.

I had only written one song since returning to New York, not counting whatever I had scribble in my notebook alongside some of the instrumentals I had crafted, and I found it no coincidence that upon completing this song, a simple tune formatted to be easily played and sung at a coffee shop or bar gig, to find that my mother had been in my inbox—after a quiet series of probably some months— urging that I make holiday plans and arrangements, and though It had been years since I had seen my offspring and it was long overdue, the thought of dealing with my abusive ex in any way, and my equally toxic mother, often had the slight result of spinning me into a sickening spiral, unable to create at all— I took it as no coincidence at all, in fact, I saw it as a sign from the Gods, that indeed the gross and toxic force that seemed to show up whenever I attempted or was successful at creation, was above all linked to this world—the lower realms of conciousness where my mother dwelled, and an even lower, more hellish realm, with my ex remained with my son— and since he had refused to sign the divorce papers, keeping what little control he could over the outcome of my new life without him, he saw to it that my son would be more like himself than me—morbidly obsese, without a mother, and living in squalor and poverty; trailer trash. I had decided long ago that in dealing with this man at all was dangerous, as even with trying to continue weekly conversations with my son, my ex's mind games continued, often purposely missing calls at the scheduled times, or making sure that whatever was going on in his disgusting gross world was distinctly heard before handing my son the phone, where I would then be reminded of the horrors of this circumstance—the new baby he had with a woman who also wanted nothing to do with him, the disgusting lack of hygiene and cleanliness— dogs urinating and vomiting on the bed and on the floors, and of course, the junk and trash my son was being raised on— foods that not only I didn't purchase, but could not tolerate to eat, and it had become clear, that though in many ways my son was having a “normal” childhood, filled with processed foods, and mixed family relations—that something darker and deeper had occurred here within the spiritual realms that only with certain time could be eradicated. I decided not to fight this; knowing that eventually, though unable to recover the time I had missed with my baby—the best years, especially, my health and wellness has become more important with the concentration of preservation; that continuing to connect to this world— was a threat to my stability.

Dealing with my mother was something of the same, and I chose to see it as an intrusion to my progress. She as well had the actual devil in her and had often during my childhood passed it to me in a number of ways, and I took my own refusal to immidiately answer her texts as a sign that perhaps I shouldn't—eventually, things would work themselves out in whatever way, and I could more play the role I had been assigned anyway in that world— an afterthought, merely making an appearance (or maybe even, not) and retreating back into obscurity. My mother only seemed to insinuate the same old things over and over again—that I should be raising my son, that I was overall a failure in nearly every way. Distinctly, actually, I knew that somewhere in my mother's mind was the disaster that had caused any of my dysfunction in the first place, in childhood or otherwise, and I thought carefully about how and when I should respond, if at all, to her request to make travel arrangements. After all, I still had not seen the final divorce papers that I had been waiting for in order to make any arrangements as such anyway— and, knowing that with my mother's knack for eggageration, often lying or using provocative language to portray scenarios and situations which often did not match the actuality of whatever happening— I thought it best to for now remained sheltered and distanced from the world they lived in.

The overall goal of success at all was to save my son from a damaging lifestyle—however, I had realized that my success at all was dependent upon shutting out the harmful circumstances of the world I had left in order to maintain my newfound dominance; the masculinity in understanding that perhaps, I was more like an estranged father, for now, than an absent mother—not with the intention of staying away, but the intention of retuning as a better and more well suited parent overall. I took the scorn and harassment of others who thought I should strive to settle and struggle, all the while knowing that becoming a black single mother living in poverty would more likely lead to the demise of not one person, myself, but two— that in New York, my son at this level would be more suseptible to the damage of others—the sickness which the city had already caused my general lack of dismay, anxiety, and poor health. The inner city way of life had indeed been observed to be impervious, and though I knew that I could trust myself as a mother—I knew there was no trusting others in that with my son, I would be safe from the spiritual mischief my abuser had with no doubt intended to cause my demise.

I left his son with him, and had let go in all the ways that I absolutely could; there was no fighting this toxic force of darkness he had inside of him. His father had beaten his mother, forcing her to commit suicide, and in the many ways I had been lost over the course of our marriage, I might as well have also been dead. It seemed, though, that this was what he wanted; for his son to be without his mother so that he would be more like him. I let his world remain as his, knowing that mine was seperate, and, so long as I didn not interact with this place, the darkness that it carried could no longer follow me.

It took all the love and light in the world to finally realize that after all this time, I did not really like my mother, nor could I now or ever trust her.

There was love and as always a maternal bond, but my trust had been forfeited long ago, in all the ways my life from birth and up into this moment had played out and become whole. Their world was simply not one I lived in— the person that I was to them simply was not a person at all, but more of a faction or figmint of their own imaginations. Indeed, the person that I was and had actually been all along, under all of the distrust and betrayal, was someone almost no one knew at all.

I lived in a different realm, in a different world, in a different time— their darkness only ever present in the ways that would sometimes crawl into formation at the sense of my further departure—the more I succeeded, the more the darkness drew my essence back into a world I had escaped from, and with any amount of time passed, I knew eventually could not exist at all. The fabric of time and space would fold into another realm which new forms of these people, without their former darknesses, would materialize on higher planes—and only after this, and only this, would any part of me make its return to double back and collect what I had lost.

I'm at the store with the moms

Peloton put on the miles

I take a jog to the store.

Love me I'm loving you more

Niggaz is sniffing me

I be like

“Ew”

“Ew”

Terry Crews a producer

2 true

trade u

u chains

for two shoes

Damn, i lost it

Click click motherfucker;

Is this a joke,

Or just another

Test

Confessions in animation

In anima, I meditation

or mediated a precipice

Rex, s oedipus

January to December

A severance,

This collection is illegible

inEligible for the medicine,

Consider the difference

Simple civics,

Designated integers

–nobod read the shit

I red and white

Forreal

PIP.

Ping.

Help me out, here.

I got you brother.

Huh.

But you'll owe me.

Consider it done.

You don't even know what “it” is.

Something's in the works;

From another world

Something for the girls

Pocket full of earnings,

Walk on

Woah

Something's in the works,

Now i'm really on to something

Got another coming

I grew up

In another world–

Something's in the works

All this is is words, homie

Big bedroom, bedstuy;

Big ballgown, big guy

Big guy bil balls,

Gone on,

Big butterfly;

I wanna die,

on God

It's just words

Just another poem

Or a song, man

Something;s going on

Simple, simple

Simmeon, put me on

Gimmie nother roll of marijuana

smoke another blunt

Simple motherfucker, come

simmeon, gimmie some

Percius, decibels,

Sing a song,

Carry on

Something's in the work,

no

Something's going on

I solemnly swear

By the whites in my palms

And the rice in the pan

That i'm gonna move on

Right now, though

Plan is, gotta get gone

No, we don't get along

Let me scratch your name out of my notebook

Let me scratch this scar out of my eye, now

Let me take this knife into my livingroom

This blood into my petticoat

I can't turn on the light;

Nor can I turn over a new leaf

My thoughts don't know me

We bonded, not homies,

I'm “home' but don't belong her

I'm still under your coke bottle figure hot models

And peanut butter

Do you know how to pick someone out of your audience–

And touch them,

somehow?

Do you know how to do that?

I don't know how to do anything, i'm afraid.

I don't know how to do anything, I'm afraid;

I'm afraid of everything, I'm afraid,

I'm alone again in midtown,

In my mile high home away from home

I'm afraid i might go down

In history

as a historian

Or storybook whore,

a hoarder or some

desperate ghost;

I don't know,

I'm afraid,

How to reach into the audience

If i don't have an audience,

And I'm afraid,

I don't know how to do anything ,

Cancel me.

Consider yourself canceled at Carlin when we all nodded

and applauded when God said the father's are probably all rotten

for fucking the girl next door, and the family dog

But who knows, right?

Consider yourself canceled;

I know I am.

For the first time maybe even ever, I was happy to see that my ex had appeared in a dream— this meant that he had indeed been hurling an excess of energy in my direction from his end, and with myself wanting nothing at all to do with him, this could only mean further eventual damage and karmic implications to himself; I saw it as a sign, once and for all, that he was weak, and had intended to harm me with putrid thoughts, investing my energy and attempting to intercept the realms where I remained, but a lower energy and damned spirit such as he was not allowed. This simply followed the rules of karma, along with magnetism and energy; I had no excessive or damaging wishes and thoughts against him, and only wished to be left alone, though it seemed he however begrudgingly still seemed to attempt to throw direct negative intentions, some might think to be as curses, in my direction. I knew that in time and probably sooner than later, along with the permanent damage he had left on my face and the deep crevices of harm in my mind, that he would pay for this, to simply wish the mother of his first children dead, or to live a life even lesser without him. Indeed, I lived well, ate well, and rested well, knowing that in time, my true identity and power as a maternal outlet would outshine any projections of abandonment, incapability, or dissalousion that I had indeed at any point been unwell, and not simply the target of a series of unfortunate attacks on my body, mind, and soul within our relationship. Karmic justice did indeed exist, and I awoke with the knowing that did things such wish to harm me, could only truly harm itself in doing so.

Mr. Kirkpatrick,

Good morning, Vivian–

I'd like you to meet my grandaughter, Lilith.

Hi.

fuck , man. Why is this the hardest thing i've ever written?

Probably because it's one of the best.

Potentially but.

Ahem. My fifteen year old grandaughter.

To thi

That is my favorite vein, you know.

Be careful, now

I know too much

I've said too much

Or not enough at all

Or rather,

Haven't thought at all

About the words

To put the picture into paper

so vivid was the mischief

So horrible, but

honest

It was brutal, that.

I have it written somewhere in my notes

Scriibled onto paper

Did you want to play the game or

Fuck this dumb bitch.

To think,

I was never falling in love

But out of body

All and not of what i've become, though

Is

Out of bounds

I haven't even dared to dream or wonder

Since i've come from

Under the alter

What's shattered is

Under the alther

You haven't said anything, have you?

You have my word.

What good is your word?

As good as yours is

–It's your word.

Moving forward.

It's your world.

Well, fuck, then

Was it worth it?

All for one,

and all for nothing

I maxed out all my cards on

Laundry soap and

Bargain shopping.

I lost all of my God

Just playing pitypat

With pitiful humans

and

Ogling men

Who i never had pondered

Might have an appendage

That i could have wanted.

But i don't

(no, I don't want that)

I could have started a war with my honor

I could have started a war with my mother

I could have started a war with my scars

we were passing out soap

we were carving our stories to stones, then

That was all of us

Pass the goblet,

So that I might

Drink of blood

Just to suffer

So much harder

Than before

It was

Under the alter

Under oath and

I'd have lost it

Were it not for the

marker

CUT

Were we rolling?

We are rolling!

NO! CUT!

WHAT!

No, keep!

CUT

I didn't say that

JIMMY FALLON, GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SHOW.

Oh [explitive}

DIPLO

Shit.

Oh, she's mad.

Who the fuck is that.

Your new boss.

Fukwad.

DIPLO

(CONT'D)

Well, I gotta

(fucks off)

TAKE YOUR KIDS WITH YOU

[off screen]

CALL THEIR MOMS.

I DON'T HAVE TIME TO PHONE 32 BITCHES, DIPLO.

[mumbling

Put em in a group chat–

That's what I do.

The. Worst.

I promise, the worst version of you

Is me.

-SŪP∆.

WHAT. I thought she died.

I did.

STEVE IRWIN

Tell Bindi

NO.

NO.

NO.

NO MORE DEAD CELEBRITIES

I GOTTA GET UP.

RICHARD PRYOR

–well, alright.

If you insist.

But before you do.

AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH

I WILL PERMANENTLY DELETE YOU.

OKAY. WHO NEEDED A DESIGNATED DRIVER?!

EVERYONE.

THIS IS NOT. FAIR.

DO ME A FAVOR–BEEEETCH

IF yur G0NNA BUThER A SONG

look , i'm TIRED

Sunni, how do you forget the words to your own songs?

I never knew the words in the first place!

BEFoRE:

In the studio

Dlahahalahaha

SpILT MILK,

MOTHerFUCKER!

SSSnnnnddauuuh!

UNNNNH

that went platinum.

Yeup.

GIMMIE SOME SYRUP

WAFFLES.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. ©

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.

This must have been whatever I was supposed to post, cause Diplo was in my dream last night.

I bet.

Yo. I cannot for the life of me find that Christmas special episode with Diplo and—

Watch it.

Do we really have to cancel Jimmy Fallon?

Broh, Jimmy Fallon finna fuck around and cancel himself.

I don't know what you mean.

Play dead, nigga.

What?!

PLAY DEAD.

OK! OK.

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S