[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

By InsomniacArts
Download on the App Store

[ENTER THE MULTIVERSE] episodes

  • LION’S PAW.

    Sai the Saige has seven souls

    Seven sons

    And seven daughters

    Sai the Saige has seven worlds

    Seven wounds

    And seven altars

    Sai the Saige has seven wives

    Seven husbands, seven mothers

    Seven fathers, Seven Gods

    And Seven Others

    Sai the Saige has seven wands, seven scars, and seven warriors

    Seven Angeles, Seven Trumpets, Seven Shells, and Seven Feathers;

    Sai the Saige has seven fears, Seven Secrets, Seven Weapons

    Sai the Saige has Seven Wars, Seven Waters, Seven Oceans

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    [The Festival Project.™]

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

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

    -Ū.

    37 min
  • Masters of Rap III: The Seven Souls Saga (Intro)

    Is it Psy or Sai

    I'm depressed because I don't know how to publish anything and I can't stop writing;

    I don't know what to do with anything I've written,

    And I'm always,

    Constantly stressed about money

    The things I need,

    And feel I should be working

    As if I haven't written more than what some writers with notoriety and fame have or had written in their lifetimes

    And now, to think, the fame and notoriety seem so small to me;

    I really just want the money and to be able to go away

    To some place quiet and peaceful,

    And to hold my son again.

    Shout out to the bass pod

    That's probably why my minds gone

    Shout out to the old God

    Your lady is a robot

    I am the programmer

    Might need a controller

    Take it all apart

    Put it back together

    I ain't in the ghetto

    Certified, it's gentrified

    Ah, dag.

    What.

    I missed the helipads

    AH DAG?! We're about to die, and all you can say is “ AH DAG”

    THERES MY INVISIBLE MOTORCYCLE.

    SHHH.

    Sorry.

    Unh.OUCH.

    Sorry.

    Well, I'm fresh out of [explitive]

    There's on

    FUUUUUUU——

    F-f-f-f

    This is not cool!

    I have magical powers!

    HEY, watch it!

    That's odd—it should be cool having magical powers.

    It's not cool!

    I don't know what to do!

    What do I do with my hands!

    AGGHHHHHH.

    Well first of all, stop blowing shit up.

    [Dillon Francis is somehow, just—not famous; he is at camp EDC, being a wooky wook]

    READ:

    [Dillon Francis is a wooky wook. ]

    Correct.

    Damn, that is—

    Woah.

    That is wook.

    King James is getting into this narrative real deep

    Let's see why,

    I fictionalized this dick just to rationalize quickly

    What a king is

    I sing good,

    Cook dinner

    Me look awesome

    “Kill the kid,” they called for

    Another round,

    And another run

    So here I come

    I'm coming up

    On up-down rollercoasters

    Cardboard for your cup

    Cupboards, rocks and cutters

    Underwater, wishing of surfboard

    For sure mom, you kinda suck

    The energy from those is daughters

    But I wonder what it's worth

    If stars fall from the sky,

    To cross lovers

    Whatever

    Just a 30 rock crossword

    I'm Sunnï Blū but,

    Tracy just a replacement of me

    Sure it was

    I'm done God,

    I fully fucked up. Good job

    By putting all of my words into google documents

    In forms of proses and poses

    Instead of posing for pictures

    Or asking for roses

    It doesn't matter what happens

    The dirt was mud,

    But I rose up

    Like no one thought I could

    From sinking sand

    And ash dust

    In God, we don't trust the justice system

    Fuckin me up

    Keeping me married to pedophile

    A while longer

    So I fuckin die

    In due time

    What is right will find the judge

    And God of all on earth

    Will tell the story of Starr,

    And how he tossed his son on the couch

    Just to punch his mom

    Yep. He yeeted my baby

    I eated the nothing

    The revenge plot twist comes

    When Skrillex cosmic something

    Something some

    It was a downward spiral

    I was a backwards a hole

    And my scholarship

    Cussed out my mother

    Called her a cunt

    In her own country

    Cunty-cunty

    What the fuck you want?

    A doorknob that talks and locks

    A cat or caterpillar to smoke with

    And karma to choke Starr

    Like he golf balled

    And followed me all the way to Brooklyn

    Just to piss me off

    Just like a pussy

    I started the second book

    Where I left the first one off

    At Whole Foods market

    Where I left my snotted scarf at

    If you support Starr,

    You're more retarded than I thought

    If you support War

    You're better off

    Swallowin a gun,

    Like his mom

    Cause Mike Roberts

    Beat her up

    If you support Starr

    You're probably a predatory gangstalker

    But what for?

    You don't even know

    You got a small award

    For taking a walk

    Supporting physiological terrorism

    But never even

    Bothered to read the

    Terms of agreement:

    They said

    “Kill this nigger bitch”

    Keep her from getting any money or education

    So she can never be president

    I'm just a DJ, man

    But since then

    I've had secret enemies trying to kill me

    By psychology

    So they can see me die

    By my own hand

    And nothing can ever lead back to them

    That's how terrorism works, ya'll

    You're worried about Gaza

    When genocide happens right in the subway car

    On your way to work

    Where they make you late on purpose

    Even if you leave early

    Trying to workout, write a book, and leave your apartment looking perfect

    Who would deserve this?

    You think you're so perfect,

    But youre cursed by words,

    And worthless

    I think this earth is covered in stuff that it shouldn't be

    I think I'm 5'7 but the man of my dreams is 5'3 so I been meeting in the middle and stopped eating meat,

    Hanging from trees praying for freedom

    Cause something diseased has been following me coughing

    Like I'm the one who started poverty

    If that's the case,

    I must really be God or something

    But i'm not yo,

    I dropped my wallet on the bus,

    And somebody got a come up.

    A human error

    I need my hair done.

    I'm aware you're up there somewhere cause I hear you in my left ear,

    Jesus left us right here

    Cause the end is near

    When everybody's taking the side of a wifebeater

    And my eyes are wide closed

    Cause I still owe klarna money on my clothes

    This nobody is throwing weights,

    And nothing makes sense

    Cause karma's gonna take him

    Heavy, like the weights is

    Throw your weights pussy

    I was late coming

    But ain't had a rest day in

    8 crazy days straight

    It's Christmas in LA

    Hollywood that is,

    Here's the blacklist:

    I hate blacks when

    They do that shit,

    Act whack like fucking crackheads

    Codeswitch like it isnt just niggers vs niggers

    The only enemy is inner,

    Fuck it,

    I'm late for dinner

    I been here nearly an hour,

    And lost my power to some animal wired to an app

    Fuck this matrix, I want my power back

    WTF is THIS.

    Since you like to troll so much, I just thought I'd turn you into one

    This is not Kosher, 199x Jimmy Fallon;

    Let me out of this plastic

    —not exactly “fireproof” —

    death box, before I let myself out, and I trap you in it.

    But oh,

    You already did.

    FIGHT.

    UGH OH.

    Ok, rotate.

    Who is this.

    Oh shit, hey dude.

    FUCK, what year is it?

    MEANWHILE, Under the bridge.



    …anybody seen this, uh…

    *Troll*

    Yee!

    *Troll*

    Alright.

    That's it.

    Everything checks out. The story was air tight.

    TIGHT, TIGHT

    I want you to wear this tonight

    “The Lady In The Red Dress”

    You really went all out for this

    I really didn't,



    lol

    Oh I see,

    You thought this was the matrix.

    MIT

    I WISH

    GOD

    Wish what.



    MIT

    …

    Mm.

    Did u see that.

    See what.

    ALRIGHT FUCK THIS, YA'LL

    IT GOT SERIOUS,

    WHERE'S MY CYCLOPS



    He called me his cyclops—

    —-and then he said

    LIKE

    GET OUT

    WHAT

    GET OUT OF MY HOUSE

    WHY

    CAUSE YOURE JUST A PIÑATA, MAN!

    And I ain't got time for that!

    I just got a DeLorean

    And a new HAT

    I gotta go get

    Oof.

    WRECKED.

    Yo,

    Wicked.

    KENDRICK (TODDLER)

    WIZARD.

    Oh my.

    I'm J00F'd up.

    | | | trance | | |

    Look; I gotta get out of this

    MOTHER OF PEARL

    do not beach this whale carcas on my warehouse project

    A what

    A beached whale

    I know

    You brought a beached whale to my fucking rave show

    Oh I get it

    It's Avant- Guarde

    No, that's just how I got here

    ….

    Trust me, it's okay that

    This never happened

    You did not see me

    It's because I wasn't there

    Is this U

    Ū

    No I wasn't there.

    Ü

    I was.

    Fuck.

    What happened.

    It's ok.

    All I remember is

    “The Quatardashians”

    Hmm

    Also

    The indigenous

    But that's it

    But mostly that was all just Jesus showing off his flexes

    Are u fasting?

    Yes, “Ū” is.

    So, do you need this?!

    TRUMPP

    Get rid of this recording imiidiately

    GOT IT.

    kill that bitch.

    SKRILLEX

    Yessir.

    —-but before all that happens.

    …did you want fries with that?!

    Why are we boycotting McDonald's

    —for poisoning

    —the allies

    —our enemies.

    Wait, you're eating this?

    Yes.

    Like, for fun, or like?

    No.

    This is what I'm feeding my children

    Why

    Cause they hungry.

    Uh, ok—

    —and there's six of them.

    Aight, ya'll can each have one nugget with your—

    I wanted a cheese burger!

    You git hamburgers. Ham. Cheese costs CENTS;

    And you know your momma

    If I ain't about a dollar

    -

    A dollop of Daisy

    You really are

    Ashamed of his

    Alright, you evil bastards.

    I see you want to

    Cause suffering

    Correct

    For which you will eternally recurve damnnation and all of the pain you've caused

    Karmas a bitch

    It's lonely at the top

    Not when you're GOD

    Get off my rock

    Did you miss an appointment?

    Nah, can't do it

    Why what happened

    Too high up.

    Whatchu mean

    So what, it's just like

    Done.




    Well, this is it, huh guys.

    Oh, yeah, it's that, alright

    This is the longest ride we ever took.d

    This is the ONLY ride we ever took.

    I WANNA GET OFF THIS RIDE.

    I AM REALLY HIGH UP.

    JUST LET GO.

    NO.

    NO.

    NO.

    Put me down, kite!!!

    KITE

    wtf do you want me to do.

    I'm a KITE.

    I'm

    YOU FUCKIN KIKE



    NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—-

    Well,

    I'll be honest, man, this sets you back, some

    How far back

    GET GONE,

    But? We're dinosaurs.

    Why would something with razor sharp teeth be so—

    —peaceful, and friendly??

    T-REX

    …cuddles.



    I just can't fake the feeling(

    I can't pretend to cry

    It just comes, when it does

    But when the well runs dry

    That's when the the world will end

    That's when the world will end

    After this movie, I guarantee we will no longer need the Wilhelm scream

    AGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!



    YAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

    AAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHHHHH



    UUUUUUUUUUUUU

    This movie broke the world record for the amount of times the word

    “No” was screamed

    NO

    NOH.

    NO.

    ‘No!

    NOOOOOOOOOOO!

    NONONO.

    NOOOOOOOAAAAAHH

    …No!

    Here they all come for her,

    Defended upon New York

    In order of important, or appearance?

    One doesn't wonder,

    At al, of what's to come

    Uncommon, we are

    The call has come

    TRACY

    My tummy hurts.

    That's probably because you've been drinking straight tequila for the last hour and a half.

    No I haven't!

    This is water!

    Tequila is YELLOW, Liz Lemon!

    No, Tracy—that's silver tequila,

    And regular tequila is,

    You know what?

    Nevermind.

    Alright, who's got the night shift?

    [nobody raises their hand, at all]

    Seriously guys?! Come on!

    COME ON!

    Look up WHAM!

    For some reason, idk.

    Can we just— not do this?

    No.

    Out of my mind a bit

    Speaking in tongues,

    In total silence

    Guess it's the times,

    I guess that's just who I am

    And who I am is

    I said I was Sam

    I'm the same,

    I said,

    “Say Uncle”

    I guess it's a game, we're playing

    I don't want to be played with

    At all



    I just want to feel loved again

    By someone else

    Superb, like him

    I just want to be felt,

    I guess

    By someone else

    That's

    “Different”

    I just want to be kissed on the lips

    A splendid blend of

    Twisted trysts

    Let's not pretend

    It hasn't ended yet

    Until you've finished it

    Class dismissed again

    Let me off of it

    I just want it to stop

    Keep rolling

    Keep rolling your eyes in the back of your head

    Like you did just morning

    Just go for a walk

    Just stop for a moment

    Run a bath

    And just keep running

    Cause here something comes,

    Of course,

    It's all your callings

    Neatly rolling into one,

    They said

    But I

    Just want to be loved again

    And who doesn't

    That's the fucked up part

    I just want to be loved again

    But nobody ever

    Just comes up

    I just want to be loved again

    It's a walk in the park

    Don't follow the dog

    Even if he barks at you

    It's time to start again

    I wonder what comes after this part

    You are the gleaning in the shadows,

    The reckoning in my eye,

    The siren in my silence;

    The green in all the lights,

    I am a shamed to have just been

    One of your many

    One of your many

    Images,

    You still have me twisted,

    I miss you,

    It's just you, at the end,

    Again

    I left you where you left me

    Solid on solid

    Sounds are invalid now

    How are you so

    Swore by your awesome

    No more songs, I said

    No more songs, he's dead to me

    No more songs!

    She's inlisted

    He's uninterested,

    Isn't this interesting

    The problem is:

    I'm still in love with

    Everyone i've ever been in love with

    (And I love him)

    But he doesn't

    remember my

    Name

    And he's famous

    And she's crazy

    And he hates her

    But he made me hate him
    The day I became you

    The day I became

    So famous,

    I finally made it

    I'm dead



    It smells like dill in here

    At least it doesn't smell like dead mouse.

    Aha.

    Youre Hellen.

    Keller or Mirin

    How would you be Hellen Miren

    Cause I'm the Queen.

    posh.




    You want to die

    Well, you better do it quick

    Better get your shit toggether, paint a l

    Bigger, better picture

    Bitter Betty gliching steady

    Just remember when you're ready

    Ever steady still forgetting dinner

    Dessert was already

    Forget this significance



    Remind me why I'm on this speeding bullet to nowhere

    Had no other options but to go under for something

    Shy, sickness it's a secret

    Just kill me already

    Semi robotic,

    Something like a magnet, attracted,

    Simply symphonies

    And soulless bodies, tied to money

    Wonder what was in the vaccum cleaner meaning

    What did you suck up, dude

    Who do you suck up to.

    When nobody loves you

    But your own son

    And the audience is robots

    Nothing really works more than once, if it's really magic

    Sit and do nothing would you

    Like you're supposed to

    Fall over like the mannequin you are

    Just a body in my count

    A mattress without a bespost, if it matters

    If it matters

    Doesn't really matter

    But hey, you know

    We all go downtown every once or twice a note

    For Hanukkah

    I could try to be nice

    But there's no sense in it,

    Is there

    If everything and everyone else is just as nasty

    As the rest of it

    Just is just a test, again

    A doctors office visit.

    Simple robotics,

    Or already stocked up for Hanukkah, Hollywood

    Where's your homeland deposit box

    Closet full of robots

    Closest to the moon, I wrote another poem for you

    Sorry that I wasn't on the offering table

    The parakeet, pigeon and pirated Slattery,

    Damages, damages,

    All with the Amazon packages,

    Now we're all robots,

    Aren't we

    What corporation to you belong to!

    Something corporate , or say anything

    Whose to say Jeff Besoz won't replace us

    With m robots with thought processes,

    If once such could project as such presence

    As an AI freestyle

    Meanwhile, I've got a butload of buckets and bunts,

    Bullletwounds, eyes on Manhattan and happens to wish something bad upon me

    When all I wanted is

    Somebody to love me

    And someone to love him,

    If that's what he wanted

    (But who knows if what he wanted was all of the bodies opposite of him)

    I don't belong on this planet

    I belong in the garbage

    Put me on mars, mom

    Stop it,

    You're almost a robot, get out of my peripheral

    With your mental illness

    Geez, I must really want a menorah

    This is the animal house

    There's no one alive here

    Set to be slaughters.

    Honor the box of offerings as

    Thoughtful words

    And parallels

    What could be under your tongue

    Is the surface of love

    Just to touch with the battery acid or chemical trails

    You have left in your axis

    Nobody knows better than this

    How close it is to touching

    Without being loved

    But nobody loves you

    Psychotron, sure we're all robots now

    Nobody loves anymore

    {Previously, On…}

    L E G E N D S

    The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

    {Enter The Multiverse}

    Ascension



    What the FUCK did you DO?

    What did I do?!

    You know what you did!

    I didn't do anything!

    Oh yeah?

    No! Not on purpose!

    GODDAMMIT, YOU SON OF A—

    Where's Jimmy Fallon?!

    What?! I don't know!

    Oh no.

    Oh shit, run.

    Oh no.

    What in the FUCK—

    I am “the fuck”

    You know what.

    I'm gonna sue the everliving shit out of you.

    For WHAT.

    We'll see.

    Fuck.

    Uh oh.

    FUCK.

    What now?

    What this time?

    Apparently, Jimmy Fallon is missing.

    What the fuck does that got to do with me.

    We'll see.




    Okay, great,

    Now finish that chapter.

    What fucking chapter?!

    All of it.

    That's—a lot.

    I want all of it. By my desk, by noon tomorrow.

    “By” your desk?!

    Yes, BY. Not ON. I've got too much stuff on my desk—

    …but it's…like 9 o clock.

    Should be easy, given your natural talents.

    What natural talents.

    PEACOCK.

    AHAHAHAHA.

    Okay. Well.

    Well what.

    This sucks. I lost all my coins.

    Hey.

    Ugh.

    You dropped this.

    So how was Los Angeles.

    What the fuck. You fucking DICK.

    I told you, I own shares in this.

    So what's the plan for this, exactly.

    I dunno, Harry.

    I got a book of stamps,

    And a yellow envelope marked

    “Jimmy Fallon”

    I will hate you forever.

    Well, that's retarded.

    I haven't even smited you yet.

    I will annihilate you, human.

    WHERE'S MY SHIT.

    Who the fuck are you, anyway?

    Nobody!

    No one.

    No one cares about this series, yo.

    I'l seriously doubt that, Jesse Pinkman.

    What is this stuff.

    It's your stuff.

    This is not what I ordered—

    Hey—

    Why is it BLUE

    Cause it is.

    So.

    WHY IN THE—

    Mischief managed.

    Alright. This should be good for the night, but we gotta get out of here by morning;

    I thought your parents owned this place.

    It's a time share!

    So?

    So it's like only —part of the time.

    That is stupid.

    No! You're stupid! You're the one who got us into this mess.

    It's your mess, I was just cleaning it up!

    Whatever! Stop trippin.

    Nobody's “tripping.”

    That's it. I'll be a stripper.

    Straight outta hell, that kid.

    Don't I know it.

    Alright, fine.

    I said, whatever you do—

    DONT watch this show.

    Stuff it, J. Slatts. I'll kill you with my eyeballs

    Sounds like a threat.

    Put on a lawsuit, then.

    Maybe I oughtta…

    —with a bow tie.

    You'll look so pretty.

    I thought I was already pretty.

    Uh huh.

    Yeah, look, so honestly

    I don't know if I'll ever be on the same vibration as like,

    Jimmy Fallon and them, ok?

    I don't know how I did it;

    I don't know what did it,

    It just happened and then—

    And then WHAT.

    It just—ended.

    Just like that.

    I'm not trying to offend anybody here.

    Just like that.



    Now, I ask:

    What are we going to do to sell you this dream?

    Doesnt matter what you do, I'll never believe it.

    Sure, fine; Don't believe it—

    We're gonna make you live it.

    Who the hell us “we” anyway?

    Now you're speaking in my cadence—

    Don't flatter yourself

    I like it.

    Too late, I guess.

    So, you see

    We're building

    Power triangles

    And

    love squares

    Power triangles

    And love squares

    Don't let it scare you,

    There's love there

    Don't let it scare you,

    There's love there

    Never fear where love has dared

    To call you up there

    Corrupt file—no fair.

    Don't be suprised even the odds seem to turn in your favor,

    I promise you;

    Nobody's ever ready

    For what has just happened here.

    WAKE UP, FUCKER.

    Ugh, I can't go through this again.

    So, I guess I'll have to erase,

    Or just secretly publish

    Everything I've ever written

    About my actual experience as a color,

    Just so that I can earn money

    As anything other than

    A slave—

    A maid,

    A housekeeper,

    A dog walker

    Or servitor

    So far under her,

    That I can't see far enough up to just

    Scratch the surface

    Her birthright:

    The entire network

    And mine,

    To sit under her,

    Wondering what the world would be like

    At the other end of the spectrum

    The word form of the

    White woman

    The wicked witch of all directions,

    In which I stand in;

    I'm at her mercy

    I've been abandoned before

    But this disservice, is, I'm afraid

    The best advice I can take is just

    To go straight to the bank with my angst and my hatred

    And shove it

    So here comes the nameless

    Face I love,

    Yet,

    The faceless God,

    Was

    Intoxicated, at best—

    Manipulation of the Mass Media

    I'm so

    Seriously jaded

    In this torture chamber

    In my corner office

    In this hall of racists,

    I claim, but if all is

    One in the same

    Then

    It's one in the same

    And

    I'm mainstream

    I'm famous

    If it's

    One in the same

    Then

    It's one in the same

    If it's

    One in the same

    Then I'm mainstream

    I'm so famous

    In a whole room full of humans

    I'm groomed to be useful for something,

    But what?

    It just hasn't come yet.

    I could sit down with a paper and pen,

    But I'm filling up all of my documents

    With hollandaise and God

    For what?

    It's just another song, or something

    Or something.

    It's just another —

    Goddamnit it, more coughs again.

    I told you not to watch this.

    Why do I taste pancakes?

    Maybe you're having a stroke again.

    Chyeah, a stroke of genius.

    I'll show you a stroke.

    Or don't.

    Well, there goes the captain.

    where is that scene, anyway?

    I don't know, I just wrote it.

    Great, she left the door open.

    She's got no furniture!

    It's a “dance floor”

    It's “the black box” she called it “the black box”

    Goddamn, do you listen to all her stuff?

    “Fear stimulates my imagination”

    Pilot

    ASOT

    Fuck man,

    What is a woman to a man,

    And an androgynous genius to

    The industry, or anyone at all

    If all are foes ans frauds

    All else is toxic!

    I woke up with one hand tucked behind my back

    Feeling dead drunk,

    I just woke up again

    But never fell asleep

    What world am I in?

    The end of the

    Dream sequence

    The end of the energy keeping me between three things:

    My past,

    My future

    And these prequels,

    Sequels

    And seeing arrangements

    And

    She's going crazy

    But nobody quite understands

    That these demons are chasing me saying

    “You deserved those hands in your face”

    The scratches on Kayla's back should have had me but

    I was too fat

    To find love again

    And still have something

    Wonderfully, undone

    And wrong with me

    Wrong with me enough to

    slam poetry

    So I'm guessing the white women I love beyond words and bounds are—

    In charge of whatever happens

    At the top of the rock;

    So I jumped off.

    I want to see someone suffer for all that I've done;

    No, that's dark, and karmic, you know—

    To go on like that;

    The confusions and refusal to accept that

    The album is called ChaosMagick,

    But the cover is more

    Urgent,

    A prose or a pawn of protection

    Against all the coughs

    And the reckless mismanagement

    The hands in my head

    And the eye on my scar

    And the lies on my heart

    So tell me,

    What happens

    When you're flying a kite with your heart,

    And it's broken?

    What happens to the kite ,

    When you fly it with your heart

    And your art up in bundles—

    heartbroken, heartbroken

    So what come of Miss May,

    Come January?

    What come of Miss April

    By Next December

    what comes of the words I was saying

    For no one

    But everyone heard them

    And I've been gone

    Much longer than months,

    But still stocked up on all that I've wanted

    Or all that I got

    Or just, all that I love

    But got no undercovers to acknowledge no more

    How right I was

    Or how wrong I am

    What come of Miss June, when Miss January comes around?

    what come now, around August,

    When March is long forgotten?

    What comes of the drugs,

    Of the come ups, and come downs

    What comes of the process

    When nothing is served

    But the surf has come up

    Somewhere

    And I just can't love enough

    To go there

    I want to go to there

    I want to be that girl

    I want to sit at the top of the rock

    Writing songs, and sipping mock cocktails

    I want to



    Don't you know

    I just want to get back to

    Where I belong

    I'm so out of money and love

    That I want to be

    Under the train,

    When it's coming

    (Sometimes it's just the impulse that says

    “GO”

    Then the train starts to slow

    And my pain bubbles up into a numb,

    Dumb, crumbling cluster of poetry

    You know?

    Or you don't

    Cause you're all just on your phones

    Scrolling

    Some black man stands over me,

    Reminding me of why I never trust the ones

    Who want me most,

    Or just assume,

    By color code,

    That I belong to them

    I'm sorry,

    I just can't write with your arms around my neck like this

    Your heart around my arms like this

    It's so wholesome

    I had other verses but forgot them

    They took away my movies for the curses

    And the hexes

    That they put on me

    I said don't.

    And the king said

    “Heads will roll”

    Cause, you know;

    I've got parts for all of them now,

    The ones I'd forgotten

    But come from the catacombs,

    Back from the conduit

    You know,

    This is awful

    I had another one,

    But lost it.

    The king?!

    Which one.

    Teas I!

    No, it wasn't,

    It was Gían's father,

    From further off

    Should I call John back?

    Which one?

    Turns out, I love all of them—

    Turns out, I've got all of them

    In my college

    I taught them all to be someone

    Becoming of acknowledgement

    With nombres most common

    Juan, in subcultures, but

    Beyond that

    (Or above them)

    It's John,

    Or just Jonathan,

    Watch the ones who drop the consanant;

    They're always so troublesome,

    But I took them all up

    As understudies,

    Social Studies and some theatrics,

    Joan of Ark said

    Two more moments

    (Two more weeks in)

    I could have a body worthy

    Of a Grammy award, but —

    Would I be a writer then?

    Probably not, hon—

    Writers are

    Off a bit.

    If you were pretty, ever at all— would you have written this?!

    If I were pretty at all would there be reason to be this

    Conflicted?

    Some of those old New York hallways

    Haven't been painted

    In ages

    Since they made them

    Don't make that face at me

    I only dropped my key once

    On the fourth floor

    —they're horrible, you know

    To us,

    The “brothers” know no love

    They are destruction, speaking

    Of this,

    I got a cold heart.

    Cold like the robber

    Cold like the calling I've done in my corner office cold, like the jello mold forming a thought process

    Worthy enough

    I might love it like a husband

    We're re-evaluating your circumstances.

    Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

    I've got friends at USPS

    What the fuck could that even account to.

    Look, I'm gonna have to give this some serious considerations.

    It's not that serious.

    It's not that serious.

    Of course it is!

    I'm up to my knees in investments!

    So?!

    I wade a waiste deep,

    Surely you can get by

    “Up to your knees”

    What exactly do you need?

    Money. And lots of it.

    I mean, from me.

    Money.

    Really?

    Leave me alone.

    I told you not to write this.

    You're a voice in my head;

    No, I'm the hand in your mailbox.

    What in the fuck do you believe in.

    I believe in everything!

    They said you were a genius;

    I didn't expect you to be

    —at the very least, lucid—

    *squints* learn some new vocabulary, okay?

    For what?



    Dinner.

    Maybe.

    We're still in the process of voting.

    She's crazy.

    We'd be crazy not to actually hire her.

    Her accounts are all practically open;

    We could just take it.

    Yeah, and when she kills herself, and there's no blood on our hands—

    There's nothing that can be done about the amount of this stuff that's already printed!

    Printed?!

    What?!

    You mean—

    She's published?

    Self-published.

    My, what a beautiful happenstance

    To have already had you

    And awakened atop mattresses

    Marked for my assassins hand—

    Polite, I lost you

    All of us,

    Atop the rock

    We stood and suffered

    Months beyond a montage,

    Undercover

    Love was lost,

    And all's uncertain

    The interception of God,

    At the cost of

    What terror and cutbacks

    Have caused us all

    What you lost was $50, a Hallmark Card, an Academy award, a long lost star's phone number,

    And all that you wanted,

    The cock of the gun

    Was the sound that you wondered

    What was called

    , then ran off into wonder.

    How am I gonna make money

    And become an award winning songwriter

    Music producer

    And multidisciplinary artist,

    Without all the funding it takes to get noviced

    Without taking clothes off

    Wake up 10 years younger

    I'm suffering

    My stomach was a rubber band

    My stomach was a rubber band

    My only song was Water

    I forgot to stop

    For the applause

    I drowned in all the love; right then and there

    I died of

    Lovenessness

    [The Festival Project]

    The sound and laughter of children play

    A baby in a basket

    The basket case at Trader Joe's

    Who know what happens

    It just doesn't pull my heartstrings any longer

    That my son belongs without his mother

    So I'd better have another

    This is us, come on.

    Don't do this to me.

    Don't do this, Timmy, you'll be sorry.

    Come on! We're not even in that movie!

    We are, though; it's still

    Listen, you've got the right guy for this.

    Are you sure.

    Yeah, I promise.

    Officers,

    Stop for a *movement

    [hot cops flash dance number]

    Fuck, well, that was all wrong.

    But worth it!

    What I meant was—

    God, this show gets good at 31,

    But I'm only 22,

    So I guess I'll know how wrong the war was

    Once we've lost it,

    Cause imm a man now

    The episode is over,

    Soon comes the next episode

    With snoop dogg,

    Or not

    That was our wedding album.

    Scatterbrained, and pregnant—

    There she was just putting all the things together

    That she needed to be

    Needed

    To be needed.

    There she was,

    All on 4/20

    Trying not to do the wrong thing,

    But what was it?

    To be loved.

    Then,

    There she was at 21 just going off again

    At some event—

    A friend, and her

    Back then could not imagine

    They'd become him

    To be someone.

    Not as one,

    But of entirely another

    World apart, aside from

    Cyclones into snow cones

    Turns the watchers into artists

    All their own,

    And off my own accord

    Or own account

    Or done with boredom

    Dove soap

    Open doors

    And clocks that turn the other hand away,

    Each day you love Manhattan

    But can't have that.

    That's it—

    This is just Season 1 of Mad Men

    WHERE THE FUCK IS—

    [she throws her hands above her head in surrender]

    I don't KNOW!

    Oh, you're a girl now?!

    I guess!

    What's with those pants, then?

    To hide the assets!

    What assets?! You look tragic.

    I'm going for ‘skeleton' to match all your wives and everybody else on the red carpet

    Who said you get the red carpet?

    Manhattan.

    That guy lies!

    Well how about this:

    The walk of stars were carved out in blocks of marble

    All in my honor.

    1000/1

    You're our God, now.

    What!

    I don't want to be God!

    SUCK IT UP. YOU WON.

    I don't wanna!

    Yaaaaaaayyy. You got the award!

    All the awards!

    Speech!

    Speech!

    SUNNI BLŪ

    Uh—-

    I'm drunk,

    And there's nothing on the teleprompter

    [a man in the audience coughs]

    A-HEM.

    [Sunni Blū immidiateky shoots the coughing man]

    [multi-camera shots of celebrity audience reactions; laughing, clapping in hilarity as if someone hasn't just died]

    TAYLOR SWIFT

    (unmoved at all)

    SUNNÏ BLŪ

    I don't know why you're laughing.

    That was awful.

    That guy died

    [audience is insane, super fake as usual]

    [more cut takes]

    SUNNÏ BLŪ

    It should have been you, Taylor.

    TAYLOR SWIFT

    (Still unaffected)



    SUNNI BLU

    Anyway. I'd like to thank the academy…

    Cause I am the academy

    [Audience is celebrities being celebrities]

    SUNNI BLU

    You guys are all idiots:

    I'm a go f*ck myself—

    And anyone else who wants to show up

    At my afterparty.

    Whatever.

    Peace.

    [cheesy academy award music plays—Sunnï knocks over the mic, peaces out obnoxiously; the audience cheers wildly and the host returns to the stage.]

    Who's the host?

    Whatever.

    Hey, better than nothin.

    You're telling me.

    yeah.

    I know:

    Oh, she's a comic?

    Yeah.

    I got it.

    BOB SAGET

    Ooh, that's good.

    Ū

    No—no my God.

    No Bob Saget, stop it!

    Wait, Bob Saget is dead right?

    Last I recall:

    Fuck—FUCK!

    Dammit. Dammit, dammit.

    Okay, Rue— you're up.

    Rue, what in the—

    Shhhh, don't let them know I'm in here!

    Oh, wait—

    It's me, Blanche.

    That's hot.

    I'm a debutant.

    My god, you're so young.

    Here, take this,

    What's that,

    You'll need that.

    V.O.

    I'm being hunted by the ghost of Bob Saget.

    *haunted.

    No, hunted!

    There she is! Grab her!

    Ooh, Bob Saget.

    Why, yes.

    How old are you?

    Not dead yet!

    You don't have to kidnap me, I'll happily go with you, sir.

    Really?

    Yes.

    GET IN THE—

    NOH,

    GET IN THE VAN.

    INT. IN THE VAN.

    [a bunch of hot male celebrities are in the van]

    Oh. Okay.

    Wow.

    That was easy.



    What is it, Friday.

    It's Friday and a half.

    Friday.5

    What.

    There's a Friday movie between 1 and 2

    So I guess this is season 8.5

    I guess this is season 8.5

    HEY, GET BACK HERE.

    What is this.

    It's your lunch.

    I don't want this.

    Well, okay.

    What— is this strange music—

    They call it dubstep

    Come on, Jimmy, you're slipping

    Kimmel, cause Fallon is dead or presumed missing

    Probably Skrillex

    Probably a bounty on his head, Dog willing

    The Festival Priojects Inclement Infinite

    Is coming up next, on Legends

    Come on Jim,

    KEEP UP.

    Nobody can know about this, okay?

    Wait, where's Kimmel

    Okay,

    I got O'Brien—

    Black Irish Bastard…

    Alright, Alec Baldwin is a little tied up, right now, but

    LEMON,

    Fuck.

    That's l—future me.

    What?!

    I gotta go, okay?!

    What? Go where.

    Let's get DRUNK.

    No, That's—I got a show tonight

    What?!




    Look at my lexicon.

    Your—what,

    Meet me on Lexington.

    Oh, this pussy is finished!

    I got it, I got it! He's

    LENNONNNNN!!

    JOHN LENNON

    Fuck. Look, I gotta go.

    John Lennon?!

    You're dead!

    Funny, I thought not.

    Watch this.

    MOOOOOOOOOOOM.

    Fuck,

    What,

    It's my kid. I gotta go.

    Wait, you have kids?!

    Well, I just had you, didn't I?



    “The mayor” is a secret underground rap star

    lol

    #trappin

    Okay,

    What's else happened

    Idk hold on



    Okay,

    So whats the sauce on this sandwich.

    Oh.

    Jeez, this again.

    That *sandwhich?

    Hah.

    There's no sauce on that sandwhich.

    —there's not!?

    No:

    You see.

    It's very simple.

    WAKE UP, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR.

    we gotta take the train.

    The train?!

    NO.

    NOTTHETRAIN.

    NO.

    Man, fuck the train!

    [SUNNI BLŪ wakes up on the train.]

    What's this, the train?

    [is the train]

    (Angrily, tossing newspaper)

    Man, FUCK the train!

    Other hobo:

    Aww, thanks, I need that for my—

    [s/he snatches back the paper].

    Wait! I need that back—what day is it?

    [drunkenly illegible gibberish turns into perfect Hebrew]

    GODDAMMIT, it's Shabbat;

    I gotta get to Temple.

    [s/he shoves the newspaper back into the hobo's lap]

    Here.

    Oh no, I thought I couldn't forget

    RABI

    FUCK

    _]€_#

    WHAT WAS IT

    GODDAMIT IT WAS SO CLEVER.

    God

    So it was…

    What did you do with it?

    Do with what

    My idea

    what idea

    My—my rabbi joke—

    What rabbi joke

    you know what rabbi joke! You were the one who gave it to me.

    Oh, did I?

    YES, SATAN, JESUS.

    GOD

    Ohh, Satan-Jesus. I like that one.

    NO— it was—

    It was much better than that, it was—

    It was funny.

    Oh, it was?

    YES.

    —did you write it down?

    Fuck,

    I realize I just opened a

    A FUCK PORTAL.

    OHH, GET IN IT,

    GET INSIDE.

    I had an Artemis in my pocket

    But I lost him

    Walked away from the cornermarker

    And the cornerstone, for the sunset

    I wonder if songs always come

    When I'm walking,

    Or

    God makes us promises,

    For world of

    I'm not JB, I'm KG,

    Can you see me now?

    If you could see what I see,

    We'd be even

    wtf did I just write this

    And not realize I just wrote this

    Yeah.

    That shit happens to me all the time.

    WHAT.

    ALL THE TKMEx

    Shut up,

    THE ANDRE3K CHARADES GAME is getting intense.

    What in the FUCK is that.

    *flutes*

    Ohh.

    And

    KITES.

    yyyyyYYYYYYYAAAAAHHH——

    GODDAMMIT.

    I can't see really, I just dream

    I'm not thinking, I'm dancing

    This is what you asked for

    Exactly what you asked for

    For once,

    I'm finally glad I have your eyes on

    My friend

    I can see you all on the horizon,

    Singing

    NO, NO MORE MUSICALS!!

    Jimmy, what did you do?!

    I don't know what I did!

    You lyin bastard.

    I'm not lying!

    So, where ya from?

    —I don't know where I'm from.

    Listen, I'm gonna need you

    SHUT UP,

    JUST SHUT UP.

    It seems like these scenes are getting shorter.

    I'm bored with this.

    Ok.

    Let's do something else.

    I fuckin hate you. I hate you.

    I fuckin hate you.

    88.

    Oh no:

    8

    Wait, what the—

    *dolphin*

    WOAH, okay:

    Oh, no.

    No,

    No, no

    OHNONO.

    I told you I'd find him.

    Anyway.

    Seems like there's something more important I should be doing.

    Are you sure this is the right place.

    Right place. Right time.

    Fuck— FUCK.

    What, what happened.

    I lost my—

    SKRILLEX!

    No.

    SKRILLEX.

    NO, NO—

    SKR—

    I swear to God, Google knows everything.

    Google don't know shit about SHIT.

    I gotta lose m 39 lbs.

    For what.

    MADONNA

    DO IT FOR THE BANANAS.

    I hate— you.

    COME ON, MISTER.

    Fuck off, Madonna,

    I'M A GOD.

    I miss Beyoncé.

    That's not relevant.

    Beyoncé is relevant to everything.

    *smacks*

    QUIT FANGIRLING.

    Trust me, I hate you.

    I don't trust you, but I believe you.

    I got it.

    I hate this place.

    Holy shit.

    What.

    I developed a new phobia.

    What's that mean?!

    I don't know, I can probably use it in a fight or something.

    For what.

    SPECIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED.

    I see you looking over my shoulder

    I see the shadows, I try not to jump at em.

    I spent six months in a coffin, you know

    I spent my life a sarcophagus

    (Wow, I got it right.)

    Try not to mutter those haunts in a hospital

    Try to recover from trauma

    Uncovered post traumatics,

    Anxiety attacks and a lot of those—

    What do you call them?

    A flashback.

    Here goes one:

    SONNY MOORE aka SKRILLEX appears.

    I told you not to—

    But I did!

    I didn't mean to!

    But you did!

    This is ludachris!

    Oh look, it's—

    Fuck.

    God dammit.

    Come on! What's his name!? What's his name?!

    I'll think abo it it.

    Are you serious? Another shapeshifter?

    Yes,

    I guess welll just have to kill them all, then.

    I just want to go home.

    You don't have one.

    …oh.

    So here we have.

    Okay, wait a second.

    I wasn't faking my symptoms at all, actually.

    My heart had dropped, and been pounding and fluttering insessantly—

    It had been a hard week, but especially the last three days;

    The coughing—.

    Everyone seemed to be wearing clothing with stars or bears on it,

    Champion sportswear.

    I fucking hate champion sportswear.

    But the palpitations were real as ever— and now—

    On a Saturday night in the Jamaica, Queens medical center emergency room,

    There they were again.

    Only this time I knew exactly why.

    ‘Too Bizzare' by Skrillex begins to play, via Complications 003- The Trauma Method.

    Irony.

    It was ironic, but still startling,

    Started with some nostalgic traumas,

    Every other time I saw an ER doctor

    (Why I don't go)

    Fuck, I just realized I have to airdrop myself 880 times.

    That fucking sucks.

    Did you say you were a doctor?

    I was, once.

    When is “once”

    At some point.

    Listen, I'm gonna need you to backtrack to get to the bottom of this.

    I'm innocent, I promise!

    We caught you at 27 different angles doing this.

    Oh.

    [beat]

    I plead the 5th.

    Ohh. Cerulean. My favorite.

    c R A Y On

    Oh, I get it,

    I L L U M I N A T U S.

    Nice, it worked.

    I know everything about you.

    So you do.

    [beat]

    You're a God.

    What the fuck do you want from me.

    Listen. I. Am not. A God,

    Right. That's exactly what a God would say.

    No they wouldn't! Because a God wouldn't say anything!

    AHA.

    Don't ‘AHA' ME.

    I don't mind, at all

    It don't matter— to me

    I don't mind, at all

    It don't matter—to me

    Might as well not think about it

    The space between us

    Might as well just stay awake then

    No sense in leaving

    Just to come back

    It don't matter to me, now

    Now and again

    I go crazy just making arrangements,

    But besides that,

    If you like it, you should have it

    It's a long road,

    As Kaskade says,

    And a short dance,

    With the right one

    And time goes by

    I would call it mild,

    But actually I'm in a wild panic

    It might be a heart attack

    I just might even

    Die right here

    But I don't mind, at all

    It don't matter—to me

    I don't mind—at all

    It don't matter to me, I said

    I don't mind, at all, now

    It really don't matter to me

    I said,

    I don't mind, at all

    It really don't matter to anyone

    Now does it

    (Not it doesn')

    I don't mind, at all

    It don't matter— to me

    I don't mind, at all

    It don't matter—to me

    Might as well not think about it

    The space between us

    Might as well just stay awake then

    No sense in leaving

    Just to come back

    Palpitations and precipitations at the pulpit

    Preacher, please don't make me a culprit

    I been prayin—

    I been paying my tithes,

    10% Even,

    Now 25,

    Almost half of me is not mine!

    Why try?

    I've been walking out, in straight lines

    I been crying silently

    It ain't right

    I been making most of my nights

    Sometimes

    I see sun come up twice

    Up, down up

    10 degrees,

    It ain't right

    Up down up

    33, it ain't right

    Up, down, up

    I've been spending my time

    Down, up, down

    Riding round,

    Trying not to down in my mind

    Up, down up

    What is this.

    It's my project.

    What is it?

    The Festival Project.

    Yeah but—what—

    What.

    Is it?

    …it's my project.

    *painfully infuriated*

    Okay, enter here.

    EXAM ROOM 10

    Why exam room 10?

    Because.

    Where are the other nine?

    Just—get in.

    I'm not going in there!

    JUST GET IN.

    UGH.

    DEADMAU5 (head and all) stands at a tall podium in the center of the room)

    What is this,

    This is deadmau5.

    I know that.

    —-!!!

    —?!?

    What.

    !!!

    What? This is the exam?

    Yes!

    NO.

    What is “no”.

    I'm not playing for deadmau5.

    That's the exam.

    Then I fail!

    Automatic Fail?

    yes. Automatic fail.

    Then you win.

    What.

    *slams gavel*

    Congratulations—you're the next superstar DJ.



    WhY.

    .

    What.

    Woohoo! I just retired!

    DEADMAU5 exits.

    …

    …

    After a few moments of comic tension, the Deadmau5 head rolls back in through the exit which he has taken.

    Ugh.

    Fuck this.

    No matter what you do, you're a superstar DJ.

    What. No!

    Yes. The answer is yes.

    NO.

    Fuck.

    What the FUCK.

    No matter what you do.

    You want to go,

    Go, you want to die,

    Die, you want to try, try

    You want to cry, cry

    Do what you want;

    As so will I,

    Demand is demand—

    Supply is supply.

    EDX

    So then, I followed this long hallway under the stage deck.

    Uh huh.

    And it led to a door—

    Uhhuh, where'd the door lead?

    To a portal.

    Woah. Pasqualle!

    You made it!

    I—yes.

    Congratulations!

    *blows party horn*

    *Daisies/ confetti*

    You're like 25!

    I'll be 25 forever.

    Nice!

    Yeah.

    I guess that's why it's called ‘music'—a musician without muses is just useless.

    ‘Well, whose next?' I wondered. All of my muses were not just so wonderful to me, but adored by many—and perhaps this is what allured me most—befuddled ans confounded me; once my mind was set on something, there was nothing else its eye could see—and for how long one God could only know, how deep the love would go and that the blood would run deep, and the scars to show for it, only upon my heart and never by soul—for a love was a love, and even once came and gone, to the end of my life I knew I would still ponder upon them, at one time or another, my muses—star studded lovers, rather than crossed, shiny and golden like all diamond and trophies so treasured and thought of as precious.

    ‘Yes, you are—precious.'

    Another tongue in cheek thought, for the other that I was, and also was not, as summer drew onward as short as it would come and go—a reminder to leave the apartment more often, and to mind my manners, to find the upper echelon wherever it was and come quietly into its doors, to open my world and wordform of thought, into a place where my heart always was; then, and only then, would I be home. Amongst the men and women of the uppercut and classy, luxurious big fishing ponds and flocks of doves upon olive branches—the peaceful world long parted from where mine was, by only the fault of my own. What had been done just certainly was, and yet, what was to come was an open poem, not of mine, but Godform in thought.

    ‘I wonder what's at the top of Rockefeller Plaza.'

    —perhaps, a gander at the bottom of an even larger entertainment complex.

    Then, again, only God would know what was beyond all that I wanted; a job—and not just any job at all— the one that I had always wanted.

    Mmm. Birthday cake.

    Suddenly the taste of a white confetti crème filled my mouth with a delicious remnince of what it might be like to taste a confectionary sugar again—but i couldn't imagine ever making it just on talent and charisma alone—no. Indeed, it seemed something had damaged my charm, and perhaps it was just the swarms and droves of phone controlled masses that saw me as nothing more than dust, I had started to surrender my desire to perform, and the quality of my music—along with my ability to make it, suffered with the awful thing that had been crowding my soul at all—whatever it was, evil and dark in nature, sure saw to it that it wanted to hurt me in all the ways that it could—and in all the ways it could not, I stayed away from most others, favoring my delusions of love.

    ‘Nobody seems to understand that the pain they cause will only harm themselves.', I thought

    Younger souls, however, they were—and they would be kept in the pain that I was in one way or another until eventual death, far behind me on the infinite road to the source. Far enough behind, that it seeked to destroy my progress, and for all that it could, it also couldn't.

    The infliction of pain would simply not act as a measure for control any longer.

    Off into my own world, where I was at least free from the thoughts and judgement of others.

    She's the most beautiful girl,

    And I'm the most beautiful boy;

    So naturally, we belong together, don't we?

    I see a pretty picture,

    Picket fences and a family

    Golden Retrievers

    Someone relieve her;

    She doesn't believe me

    TV dreams and exquisite pretty people

    Burning candles, fire flames and

    frequent figures,

    Guest characters and cameos,

    Repeat offenders, multiple appearances

    Suddenly, really, it's another need

    People, people pleasers

    Audience affection,

    Tragic endings,

    Butterflies and new beginnings



    Gun under my tongue,

    Rubber like a frog

    My mind is in a fog

    Haven't bothered going on a walk

    To Trader Joe's but

    The anthem of my youth,

    A lost soul

    Another form of my love

    So what I wonder

    Put the gun up under my chin

    Rubber like a frog

    Blow my head off

    Just cause I didn't blow up

    Selfish cunt

    Big brother,

    Another hypnotist

    Little brother,

    Gotta love him

    Gotta love em

    For the Love of God

    I could stop for a moment

    Wash my mind out with soap

    Like I'm ten years younger, even

    Seriously

    20 years between us,

    You can't even hide underwater

    In a bathtub

    Seriously,

    Someone help us

    For the love of God, for the love of

    Hollywood

    Seriously,

    Someone love us,

    For the love of God,

    For the love of Rockefeller Plaza

    Someone help us

    Another possible walk of stars

    A little shop of horrors

    Another whole story

    I get rid of my demons

    The hoes screamin

    I put semen in her

    Permanent like semen,

    Just keep dreamin

    I'mma just keep preaching

    SaMo, Brooklyn

    Europe Next

    I keep scheming

    Whoever you are;

    If you're a wreck—

    You need a check

    No respect, neglect

    Just cover your neck

    (I'm blind to my own design, sometimes)

    That's what the eye is

    Try this:

    Close your eyes and say thrice, kids

    I am the God of the eye,

    Osiris

    I am the God of the Eye,

    I'm Osiris

    I am the God,

    I walk amongst the highest

    Thoth,

    You lost

    Better just die and keep trying

    I am the God of the eye, I am

    (Try this)

    I am the God of the eye

    (I never die)

    I am the God of the eye

    (That's right, three times)

    I am the God of the eye

    No black and white television,

    In my dimension we pay attention to centrifugal,

    The mission isn't in materialism,

    Whatever youre spending

    If money the God, l of your eye,

    Realize, I am higher

    My gunfire,

    Is right on the back of

    The one dollar

    I am the God of the eye

    I Am

    Your money is nothin to us

    We come in peace,

    To end suffering



    Pretty little nigga

    Look just like Kendrick

    Kickin it with jigga

    I'm the new higs boson

    Part of me never left Boston

    (Fuck Starr!)

    Part of me never left homeless

    This ain't my home

    It's my office

    You never heard this song

    You don't notice

    I'm an ugly kid, you don't notice me

    Rooftop smells like soy sauce

    On god

    I am ugly

    You don't notice

    -Atari the God

    Can we get back to this, please?

    Damn. She really whooped her ass, though.

    Janet, can I borrow you for a second?

    No.

    Please.

    [Whoopi Goldberg appears in the doorway, gesturing “c'mon”]



    …alright.

    I got convictions on my lips,

    I took a picture

    Turn the page

    The worst of all was, it really did seem like they were racists—

    INSOMNIAC EVENTS

    Not just racists— the most deadly kind of racists.

    WHITE SUPREMACISTS

    You really want it this way, don't you?

    No!

    I LOVE you!

    Oh, do you?

    If there's a mile in here, I swear to god..

    Are you high enough yet?

    I thought so

    HIGHER!

    hire star*

    What.

    Just do it.

    You remember these guys, right?

    GOOD CANNABIS, FAIRBANKS, ALASKA

    No.

    Why are we back here.

    Alright, we might have fucked up.

    Why.

    This guy sucks.

    HEY.

    What.

    COME BACK TO ALASKA

    never that.

    WHAT, WHY NOT!

    GOD HATES FAGS!!!

    Well, you're wrong!

    WHITE POWER.

    Nah.

    ALL LIVES MATTER

    O rly? Even this guy?

    Literally every “NO”

    …so, “all lives.”

    Look, I don't care what color it is; I want that book in my library.

    GO TO THE LIVRARY.

    NO.

    GET IN HERE.

    NO AUBREY. STAY DEAD.

    She's dead, right?

    YOU CALLED ME HERE.

    I didn't!

    You Did.

    I did not, all i said was

    *swoons*

    …I love her.



    (I really do)

    WHAT?! “I Love you?!”

    It was more the *swoon* that did it.

    Disconnect.

    Fuck, I lost deadmau5 again

    What'd you do to him?

    Nothing!

    Put him back!

    He's still there! He's right there, you see him?

    No! This isn't deadmau5. We want deadmau5. bring him BACK.

    Fuck, I fucked up.

    What'd you do?

    …nothing?

    Pick up the phone

    Pick up the phone

    …hello?

    Who IS this?

    Fuck it, I quit.

    Man, God never puts my dishes back in the right place, like ever.

    I told you, I don't live here, I'm just…

    Babysitting.

    CC!

    What!

    CC!

    What?

    CC

    WHAT.




    Fuck, man.

    That was wild.

    Where the fuck have you been?

    I don't know.

    You don't know—you smell funny.

    “Funny” is that what that smell is?

    No.

    When were you?

    When? Ha.

    Did you—-

    Did I what?

    —did you go to a party without me?

    Lmfao fuck these niggaz.

    Why, what happened.

    What's this.

    Where was it?!

    Idlewild.

    “IdLeWiLd”?!?!?

    You. Old. One here and die, you know, l.

    It's cattle call for curtain calls guy

    Where did this go—

    What was this, once?

    It's the return

    Welcome to Oz

    This is the Tower of Babel

    Remember;

    I wrote that

    Better than the bottom,

    Still not the top

    —it's not as fast, when it's not going all the way up

    Did you jump yet

    Come around more

    Keep coughing

    Are you sure this is where it was or—?

    Somewhere else I stayed

    Back when I was homeless

    It's hopeless!

    We lost her

    Antenna, antenna

    SUPERMARKET

    I loved her

    —she was undercover

    —I'm still in your stirrups

    I'm lost in New York, then

    BACKFIRE

    Adele remix is on [have a seat]

    Can I go now?

    I still need a hat, a half dollar

    and an alter cloth

    You could win an award for this;

    I don't want an award,

    I just want my son back

    Motherhood, motherhood

    Brotherhood, brotherhood

    This isn't one of us!

    No one was

    No one was

    Can I go now?

    Where to?

    Home!

    Nope, that's just the office,

    I'm still homeless, unless I

    They got cabanas on top of offices!

    (The rich and the famous)

    Networking and brunches—

    _this looks fun, doesn't it?

    I altered the course of history

    In brief exchanges and

    Various social atrocities

    This is hypocrisy! lol rly

    This is hypocrisy!!

    Hyper awareness and, psychic inclinations…

    You realize the more low quality people you let in

    The more low quality this country becomes, don't you?

    I put a roll in the back of the chosen ones.

    Used to be cast more,

    Now something seldom ever happens

    Such as this—

    A fun Fortune 500

    What does that even mean

    Forbes.

    Look it up.

    What if the policy is

    Foreign;

    Look it up.

    I know enough about the girl next door to know

    Something is horrible,

    Something inside of her

    Rots at the core,

    Her obsession;

    My undeservedness of such,

    What she must,

    I mustn't, just

    Unjustice

    Broski, okay

    I got to discard

    All the pichardo

    Besides just this one

    (I'm standing on top of you)

    Put somebody worthy on the fourth floor

    Worse off,

    I was done for

    Before

    I got to New York

    What's her for?!

    I know enough about the man upstairs to know

    All these glares and

    “How dare you's” and

    Hatred says

    Why would you wait 30 years

    Until today, I guess

    Something is certainly off about her.

    I said yes.

    It was more probably something like

    “SUCK MY DICK”

    What.

    “YOU HEARD ME”

    Oh yes, I did.

    From 1990 to 1993

    From 1990

    To 1993

    From 1990

    To 1993

    Stop breeding these things,

    “Love is familiarity”

    No

    Love is what you make it

    But you can't

    Because of slavery

    They don't make music

    —they don't make love either

    Well, look where your lust took you!

    Nowhere!

    Exactly!

    Look where your love took you:

    Vegas,

    Los Angeles,

    South of the Border

    Above it

    a New Yorker—

    Under budget,

    Celibate and

    My arms are too short to jump the turnstyle,

    Meanwhile

    My ex husband left permanent scars on

    My face

    My lips

    My arms

    My hands

    And my heart.

    Did you bite him?

    Of course I bit him, he was strangling me.

    You definitely won this fight.

    I know.

    Look, if I don't call for security,

    This bitch is gonna make me kill her.

    OCTOPUSSY

    NO.

    What.

    NO.

    Stankass.

    I will KILL this bitch.

    Look, I gotta get ahead in this.

    I need a WIN.

    These are customs.

    Trash.

    Wash your pussy.

    Send her back.

    Nah, you know what.

    Remove that hex.

    Wait, what, really?!

    Yeah, like;

    Reverse it.

    Woah.

    That's crazy.

    They got like….white slaves now.

    That's not right.

    What do you mean.

    That's not it.

    You said “reverse it”

    This is what the white supremacy just did to everyone else:

    [world in crisis except for for people who look like Kayla Lauren, to whom EVERYTHING is a fucking crisis, that isn't]

    BECKY/KAREN/WICKED WITCH OF WHITE AMERICA

    I AM OFFENDED

    I'm offended that you signed your like 12 year old daughter up to pose nearly nude, but—

    Hey look, it's us now; is this freedom?!

    Uh….

    Why are all the female models like 12 and all the male models are fully grown men—

    Or women.

    Right.

    Idk.

    Wait, I do.

    You do?!

    Wait. Something tells me all the pedophiles and all the white supremacists are in the same group…

    Run the same businesses—

    Have the same families.

    This is disgusting

    Okay, this is gross

    That's not right !

    That's not my job!

    Oh, it's not!!?

    NO.

    Who should I call

    That guy.

    So you want this?

    Oh, it's a death curse?!

    It will NEVER end.

    Wanna bet.

    I'll kill you and take the whole world with me.

    Now that's a threat.

    Thing is, I'm actually making it.

    I'm telling on you!

    Ok. Wait 30 years though so you look and sound REALLY fucking stupid.

    Ok.

    30 YEARS.

    Doesn't make sense.

    What's the statute of limitations for—

    Hm.

    Depends.

    Depends on what.

    Who are you?!

    WHO ARE YOU?!

    NOBODY YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT.

    THEN WHY DO I?

    wtf is this?

    This is Texas being petty.

    Ok, fuck ya‘lol

    YAW.

    I'm serious, wtf is wrong with you.

    Something.

    What.

    Fix me.

    Fix you. Hm. Ok.

    *COUGHING*

    Somethings wrong here.

    Yep, it's definitely some kind of

    FIX IT.

    Where's this ROCK?

    At the ROCK.

    Like, where tho?!

    Ur gonna need this.

    What.

    They r crucifying u.

    Noted.

    Hunts Point Food Distribution Center

    Lmfao I need this word hold on

    “eliminating redundancies, setting strict timelines, and allowing cases to proceed contemporaneously”

    [ Finally, recognizing the danger that social media poses to young people and mental health, New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene Commissioner Dr. Ashwin Vasan today issued a Health Commissioner's Advisory identifying unfettered access to and use of social media as a public health hazard, just as past U.S. surgeons general have done with tobacco and firearms.]

    A win.

    I don't play dead.

    What do you call this:

    DIE! DIE, BITCH!

    Corrections.

    I still don't understand how this—

    ACID

    HAPPENS.

    Out of sight

    Out of mind

    So why these guys

    Tryna waste my time

    Tryna fuck with my mind with

    All these lights

    OH MY GOD

    I ain't got time for that

    Well,

    Maybe I do—

    I just

    Don't like

    NIGGAZ LIKE YOU.

    (Say what)

    I don't like

    Niggaz like U!

    I'm Sunnï Blū!

    You're stupid

    Oh, so he put a curse on sunni blu, too?

    Ok. Cool.

    When all my aliases come up

    This dumb motherfucking drunk

    Is gonna get stuck

    In his own woods

    He'll bury himself

    In the words that he left

    With the scars

    In the words that he left

    With the scars

    Sunni blu

    Is the sayer of stars

    I slaughtered them all

    Swallowed them whole

    Like a big black hole

    I'm a big black god

    I'm a big black God

    Fuck

    Twinkle that broad

    One punch girl

    One punch girl

    5 punch faggot

    I'll unwrap flags on your

    Goddamn

    Fuck that

    Put a curse on my alter ego

    Lucky he's a he, tho

    I blow holes in em

    I blow smoke

    And love sausage

    I'm a hedon

    And he not a

    Hero

    He broke

    He lost

    I'm open

    Shirts vs skins

    I got 666

    Curses to show you

    What your words did

    IM RA

    I'm a big black God

    You're at home with the young apostle

    Let's be honest

    He never even liked his father

    So turned him to a mother,

    Told his mother to ‘run far,

    And bring back

    The life that I want'

    I'm a big black God

    In light skinned clothing

    You don't know to explode

    Or explode on me

    Cause my mommy's a

    Dark skinned icon

    That my God

    Find something to pass the time,

    God

    Sunni with I, huh

    I won

    Fuck a pedophile wifebeater

    Bury him in the woods with his fury

    Fear me, now

    I'm coming up with reverse curses

    And cures

    Cause my words

    Bought the whole world

    Buried you in the woods

    I'll bury you in the woods,

    Bitch

    Very good

    I'm a big black

    God

    -Blū.



    GOD is the GOAT

    I just became god

    I do what I want

    I get what I want when I want it

    I don't want no problems

    Me myself and God only



    I buy everything I used to steal

    These tears in my heart say I'm healing

    What's the difference, anyway?

    I've never been fit for your interests, or industry

    Add insult to injury

    Add everything to my Amazon cart, then

    My sympathies

    Nothing is greater in heaven

    As it is in hell, for this industry

    Turned on its head

    And turned over from

    7 to ten

    Check your messages, then

    Shut up kid, this doesn't involve you

    You're not included in the package



    Michael c hall and John c Riley reprise Mr. Cellophane in the style of DEXTER MORGAN.

    HA.

    Classic.

    GOT EM.

    V.O.

    I met her at The Jumping Point




    {Enter The Multiverse}

    [The Festival Project.™]



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



    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

    -Ū.

    {Coming Up…}



    INT. THE JUMPING POINT POP-UP NIGHTCLUB LOUNGE & BAR. NIGHT



    “A Long Day's Night”

    /

    “A Hard Day's Night”




    C



    {CONFUSION SPELL, SUCCESSFUL}

    [Sequence Initiated.]

    22 min
  • [A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To Menorah]

    “The Legend of Supacree”

    L E G E N D S

    “Tales of A Superstar DJ”



    My body is my hell

    My body is my hell

    My body is my hell My body is myhel

    Now i do't wanna live no more

    My body is my hell

    My body is my hell

    My body is my hell

    Now I don't wanna love no more

    i don't wanna live no more

    I don't wanna love no more

    I don't wanna live no more

    I don't wanna love no more

    I don't wanna live no more

    I don't wanna live no more

    I don't wanna live no more

    I don't wanna–



    Boy gets the girl–

    but in the end, i'm not either, I

    Still have to wonder why

    The nanny

    How I met yurr' Mother

    I'm neve gonna get all that God magic I need if I don't stop working.

    This isn't “work”

    Oh, yes it is.

    Deadmau5, a canadian DJ also known as Joel Zimmerman, hosts an anti-superbowl Star Wars Party, which turns unexpect—

    Look at me, feeling me, feeling you

    Now look at you, feeling you feeling me

    Feeling you feeling me

    Feeling me feeling you

    Feeling me feeling you

    Feeling you feeling

    Feeling you feeling

    –sorry.

    —Unexpectedly into the “superbowl party of the century”, when hundreds (eventually thousands)

    of “invitees”

    I've never been a man before, (that I know of)

    But ive got my hand over your heart ,

    And it sure seems hard

    It sure seems hard

    -AHEM.

    Sorry.

    Receive an invitation via

    [SUPER JEW RABBI]

    AHEM

    What?!

    –Email, which was actually

    AHEM.

    WHAT! Oh My GoD!

    [Looks at clock]

    Oh. sorry Rabbi.

    When did you get to be such a Jew

    FLASHBACK

    Age: 12

    Mom. I want a dreidel.

    …What's a dreidel?

    –And A Menorah!

    CUT BACK TO

    But honestly more recently, it was–

    [Stops traffic in Midtown Manhattan Rushour to pick up a penny.]

    [Jewish woman]

    Woooow.

    [JEWLUMINATTI]

    You see! I told you!

    Oh my God, why are the Jews in this series so stereotypically jewish?

    Because Jews are stereotypically Jewish.

    FLASHBACK:

    But what am I really saving here.

    Gevault!

    CUT BACK TO:

    YOU'RE A PEANUT BUTTER JELLy SaNDWHICH WITH NO PEANUT BUTTER AND NO JELLY.

    So just bread?

    –yes.

    But–[Anime sword swish] I don't eat bread. [Anymore]

    [FIGHT]

    Dang what DJ battle is THIS.

    The One You've Been Waiting For





    Mad men

    avatar the last air bender

    Grounded for life

    So how long's this whole thing supposed to take.

    –as long as it takes.

    What kind of answer is that.

    It's an answer.

    Don't be so sure of yourself.

    I am sure of myself; Just because it's not the answer you wanted doesnt make it any less of an answer. Now, sit down



    Watch out, and watch this:

    Too many apps on my phone

    I'm better off alone

    I'd better kill myself

    Nobody will ever love me

    Nobody will ever love me

    Watch out, watch this:

    My iPhone is trying to kill me,

    For real?

    See;

    It's natural selection

    I'm trying to unselect me

    Caviar, a delicacy

    How delishish

    The devil in me says to keep digging my grave

    I was once at a rave,

    And he gave me a halo

    A lion, I'm brave— I once said

    Spin it,

    Spin back the record again

    If it's all in my head

    Then I'm better off dead

    I'm better off dead

    Watch this!

    @Dillon Francis

    I'm stuck in a trance—

    Hanzel was lighting the candle

    And summoned me,

    Out of a dead sleep,

    With no pants on—

    It was a tech house set

    But I'm on acid

    Spinning an axis

    And stuck in a state of trance

    —i thought it was armin van buren at one point

    I have to give up at some point, writing, right?

    Now this is just point in history

    Point me away from the misery

    Mystery flavor is like

    Fruit punch,

    Or raspberry—

    Something like that,

    If you ask me;

    But white as the rabbit I pulled out the hat

    In the back seat

    I'm hatching a plan to go mad,

    But I need the recepits from Pasqualle for my taxes

    What the Fuck does that mean?

    I don't know;

    I'll read this In a year,

    When I unbury it

    Maybe I married my best friend,

    Deserved to get hit

    So I'm just going back to him

    Scratch that, he's mad at me

    I have no family

    Reckless abandonment

    God I'm attracted to everything

    Except for that

    See? She's racist.

    No, it's my ovaries!

    The lighter you are, the less the adversity

    I see you eyes turned to grey;

    Don't abandon me

    Yes, I wear contacts

    I'm faking attractive

    I laughed at him, had to

    He actually had magic

    @Dillon Francis

    How many hats to you have?

    Thanks to Hanzel, I'm back on this planet

    Why light a candle, when you know I haven't an answer;

    What did you ask?

    No, i haven't had breakfast yet —

    Thanks for reminding me I'm in a casket

    Goddamnit

    @Dillon Francis

    What are you?

    I'm an adversary

    GOOGLE:

    adversary

    ..???



    ad·ver·sar·y

    /ˈadvərˌserē/

    noun

    one's opponent in a contest, conflict, or dispute.

    Hmm.

    Oh.

    Opponent to what?!

    Could be anything, really.

    I don't like him…

    2 for $

    MIX AND MATCH

    INCLUDES BIG KING

    REALLY.

    Which one's the Big King?

    The little one, I think.

    He's not little

    In fact:

    LOOK AT EM.

    Dawh. Look at Skrillex.

    Dawg. Look at Skrillex.

    He bossed up.

    He was already boss.

    Well. He Sauced up, then.

    What kind of sauce is that?!

    I don't know, but looks like Dillon Francis is eating it.

    DILLON FRANCIS IS EATING IT

    pause.

    How am I still writing this show.

    She doesn't eat?

    She hasn't eaten.

    She doesn't eat.

    I haven't ate yet!

    BET.

    BET.

    OK—Bet.

    Nice.

    Sick.

    What are we betting.

    …

    …

    …

    WAIT.

    ,,,

    josh pan?

    …

    …

    Did you unpause?

    Unpause what?

    Uh. The game.

    This is the game.

    No, the game.

    This is the game!

    What are you talking about?!!

    Now I'm famous>

    This is The Game.

    sup.

    This is Sunni Blū

    Sup.

    It is?!

    Yea it is.

    Wait, it is?! I thought you were the kidd??

    I am the kidd.

    Then, why is The Game meeting Sunnï Blu?

    For a collab. Duh.

    Wait. Pause.

    QUIT PRESSING PAUSE.

    Wait. Go back. I didn't get that last part.

    WE WATCHED IT A HUNDRED TIMES ALREADY.

    Screw you. We're watching it again.

    Ugh!

    I hate this!

    Dude. I hate watching this with you. It takes 3 hours to watch an episode!

    You guys are talking over all the good parts!

    It's all the good parts!

    This shit's exciting.

    I'm defaulting.

    What?

    This isn't—this isn't fair. I'm not doing this.

    What?!

    It isn't safe anymore.

    It was never “safe”

    SAFE!

    Oh nice. Baseball.

    It is baseball.

    Who's playing?

    All the DJs.

    What. For what?!

    It's the DJ GAMES.

    THE DJ GAMESsssssssss

    ITS THE DJ GAMES!



    OH FUCK YEAH.

    I fuck this. I quit.

    what. You can't quit.

    I can quit. I just did.

    You can't quit the DJ games.

    I just did.

    But you can't.

    I just did.

    Hey.

    Hey, what's up.

    I'm gonna be late.

    What's going on?

    My bus driver's drunk.

    Are you sure?

    CITY BUS DRIFTING IN SLOW MOTION

    /Hans Zimmer Music

    Yes.

    Welhp.

    What.

    That's it. I'm just gonna have to kill myself.

    Why, what happened?

    I'm pretty sure that's the only way to beat this level.

    What, really? Nah.

    I'm pretty sure

    Let me see.

    *SUPACREE jumps into oncoming traffic*

    YOU DIED.

    Aww. I died.

    WHAT THE FUCK.

    Well, you said.

    GAME OVER

    [fade to black]

    I HAD NO LIVES LEFT.

    WELL, YOU SAID!

    THATS'S NOT THE WAY TO—

    [fade to white]

    NEW LEVEL UNLOCKED:

    GOD MODE

    OOOHHHHHHHH.

    WHAT?!

    LVL i - DREAMSTATE

    What is this.

    SUPACREE.

    I— what? Hello?

    Follow me.

    Who is this?

    I know you.

    Oh. The above and beyond part.

    That's funny. I was just—

    So wait. If the end of this episode, is the end of that movie, then…

    I guess whatever's happening about now is whatever happened before that part.

    What part?



    I, having run off from I, runs into a forest alongside The Endless River, which opens out into a beautiful meadow, the micolored cosmic sky twinkling sweetly above, strange auroras dancing in the skies; a field of glowing and stardusted singing wishflowers at her feet, she frustratingly falls into them, soft grass puffing with the twinkling sounds of fairy dust and sprites (a homage to the lion king) the wishflowers softly sing her to sleep with the subtle and sweet frequencies of Skrillex. (A homage to the wizard of Oz)

    From Above & Beyond, a flock of Cosmic Creatures in flight spot a golden glimmer from afar; they descend dimensions-- to get a closer look; Closing in on the universe within the confines of a massive structure, which propels itself seamlessly through galaxies faster than the speed of light and sound, though she appears as a large golden space station, slowly drifting through the atmosphere. Manned by yet unseen beings, the golden ship descends upon Skrillex, almost silentl— a swishing whir as the ship, more similar to a futuristic building, an ovaline rounded structure seemingly structured in brass, gold, and silver as it docks to the soft soil of planetary terrain. The landing is soft enough not to have awaken Ū, still sleeping; but an immense light pours from the openings of the ship, waking her--and blinding Sonny as he finally approaches from behind, having been searching for her. She is drawn into the light; he shields his eyes as the beings emerge from their massive station.

    Monologue/Montage

    I fell in love with you...it was an accident.

    I fell in love with you, because I had to; I hadn't thought about it before, but i've been thinking about it ever since.

    Had I succeeded in my attempted suicide, we wouldn't have come face-to-face…

    Had I succeeded in my attempted suicide, I'd have no reason to write something so pathetic as this, pititul letter, which you will probably never read.

    Probably, anyway.
    I've spent a majority of my lifetime very deeply troubled, yearning for all the attention one could ever crave--until suddenly, I no longer craved any at all.

    Solitude, rather than isolation, became sacred, and safe to me;

    It was in the solace and quiet of my very own world, that you entered my kingdom...and it became ‘ours'.

    Silence. Nature. Astrology.

    My greatest found pleasures, in a cavalcade of endless self-doubt, self-loathing...a tiresome collection of all the hatred I've harbored for myself in my twenty-something years.

    I fell in love with you...I didn't mean to.

    I didn't mean to do anything, except be.

    Another festival, another escapade...another chance to dance, in the sunlight--the moonlight, under stars…

    And under the stars, is where I was forced to find you.

    Now, it seems, can't escape your presence--or lack-thereof.

    Unrequited? Perhaps. But, not unprovoked.

    I love you because it is in me to do so.

    I will always love you, always.

    There is a world where you're in love with me, as I am you;

    All I can do now, is hope that this is that same very world, and that as days go by, we draw closer to one-another, rather than further apart.

    In truth, friendship, in the very least, would serve as a worthy reward...for all the worry, all the wonder, and all the willing I've done for you; in honesty...I'm ashamed in my inability to let go--yet also proud, that I am able to love this much, this hard.

    To see you with someone else, now, would be a gentle relief; to know that you are kept in love, with graciousness...a subtle gift, an answer to a prayer I asked.

    Loneliness, I wouldn't wish upon you for anything--love is, in fact, my whole wish for you--be it mine, or not. While I can wish that it will be mine, I've also wished for you, the very best--I would want not for my flaws to burden you.

    Flaws are what create our perfection;

    God is, as I am.

    Losing you, the flame of fear that set my heart and soul to fire;

    Cancerous, weakened, plagued--premonitions impolitely penetrated my fragile, eggshell mind…

    the death of a friend, fast-forwarded and reflected into my mind's-eye;

    How could I forget a face like yours--eyes like those?

    How could I not know you, as I have?

    Tears bearing your name roll over my nose, like the rain on a rose...the burden of belonging to one, rather than some;

    To all, rather than none.

    So now, I keep my favorite photo of you in my phone...a comfort, to the weary and wounded heart I carry.

    I can pretend that your sweet voice accompanies mine, as I sing to soothe myself, as I sway in solitude;

    A gentle kiss, I imagine to give, if ever the chance.

    I love you, without reason to--and with every reason to, I love you.

    Find me, again




    As the ship departs, charging to go into warp speed, Sonny is left alone on his own planet; as a slight panic falls over him, A key-like object falls from the ship as it dissappars at warp speed into a portal. As his hands clap together, catching the object, the sound rings outward--this clapping pages The Skrillex, which lands promptly beside him, exclaiming-- "I AM SKRILLEX"; he has never seen this ship before, however proceeds onto the ship as though familiar with extra terrestrial phenomena all together. We only see him enter the ship; we do not follow him inside, but instead cut to Ū on the Interdimensional SpaceTime Station.

    Ah wait. So Skrillex is a planet?

    Skrillex is a lot of things

    SKRILLEX is a planet .

    That explains it.

    No it doesn't.

    I mean, it might.

    No it doesn't!

    I mean, it kindof does, if you think about it.

    BleepBleepBloop

    bleeepbleepbloopBloop

    bleepBleepBleeppBoopBoop

    bloopbloopBloopBloop.

    bleepBleep. bloop.

    Bleep?

    …

    This is a disaster!

    Don't look at ME.

    I'm not looking at anything! I can't stand it.

    __

    This is the best thing on TV.

    Damn right it is.

    What channel is it, anyway?

    On Channel 43.

    What! I thought it was on Insomniac TV.

    They keep fucking with me.

    The Lord giveth, and taketh away—

    I thought you were Jewish.

    I want a sandwich.

    You're so useless.

    __

    Who's this bitch?

    I won her in a bet.

    No you didn't.

    Royal Flush, bitch.

    What'd you get?

    It's a secret.

    __

    My Lord.

    (Petrutheio Humphs)

    You look awful.

    I've been—working.

    Working on what, your majesty.

    Just—working, is all.

    Very well, then.

    Theodore—

    My leige?

    MEANWHILE, IN SEASON 4

    [ When the 4th Wall Actually Broke]

    GO!

    I found this gym because of Dillon Francis—

    I found Dillon Francis because of my evil ex husband;

    I think the lesson here, or at least one of hundreds—

    Is to trust no one,

    And love unconditionally,

    No matter what.

    — 02-12-2022

    Well, there's a conundrum.

    KEY/BPM: Slip, deadmau5

    Conundrum.

    LEGENDS:

    ENTER THE MULTIVERSE

    Fuck. What was it?

    It was a p—

    Well it was a *PR

    Lol.

    *PT cruiser

    Yeah, but it was—

    It was purple.

    It was a purple PT. Cruiser

    It was—but what else was it?

    Ugh. I forgot.

    Yeah, I bet.

    GOOGLE SEARCH

    shades of purple.

    Ooooh.

    PERIWINKLE.

    You fucking dumb ass.

    I mean, Jesus.

    How long has it been?

    At least a lifetime.

    No, past that.

    It was a perfect periwinkle PT cruiser.

    So, start there.

    ‘Start there' what?

    Everything since then, till now—

    For what?

    Enter The Multiverse.

    That show is still on?!

    YES.

    What day is it?

    Fuxk. What time is it?

    What—the fuck.

    What?!

    CUPCAKES AND A MUFFIN?!

    I don't care how fat I am.

    You're not fat.

    QUASIMOTO

    Can I just say, your ass is like —woah.

    CC/SUPACREE

    Oh, thank you.

    QUASIMOTO

    I mean like—DAAAAAAMN.

    CC/ SUPACREE

    OK.

    QUASIMOTO

    i mean like—what the FAAACK.

    CC/SUPACREE

    Yeah. thanks, bro.

    [an awkward silence]

    QUASIMOTO

    …Good job, though.

    [light fist bump]

    EARLIER:

    MORE CUPCAKES.

    NAH.

    OHH, OREOS?!

    Oreos are the G.O.A.T.

    I WANTED CUPCAKES.

    SHUT THE FUCK UP—

    Before that, at the gym:

    —do the butt machine again.

    Again?!

    Get the glutes.

    But I'm tired—

    GET THE GLUUUUUUUUTES.



    SONNY/SKRILLEX

    Where am I?

    Ū

    Hell.

    ANGEL 1

    In bed.

    ANGEL 2

    In mexico.

    CUT TO:

    SUPACREE finally gets to Heaven, looking for SKRILLEX.

    SUPACREE

    So, where is he?

    JESUS

    Somewhere else.

    ANGEL 1

    At home.

    ANGEL 2

    In mexico.

    JESUS

    Who knows?

    CHAK CHEL

    Someone must...

    DILLON FRANCIS

    I'm someone.

    JESUS

    But I don't.

    ME

    I don't know anything.

    MYSELF

    I don't need to.

    I

    I just wanna go home.

    SUPACREE

    Can I come home now?

    JESUS
    You always could.

    SUPACREE

    But really, I mean--

    CHAK CHEL

    Really's all it really takes.

    ANGEL 1

    You have to know,

    ANGEL 2

    You have to mean it;



    Don't look both ways before

    you cross,

    if you honestly want off the cross

    Christ, for your sake

    Honestly

    It's probably wise to admit that you've tried

    For the third time;

    Mankind's just not worth it.

    Mankind, maybe;

    But humanity's my baby

    And this earth is

    definitely worth something

    I love it--

    Her.

    And the rest of the planets, but

    Look how she spins,

    It's magnificent,

    Look at the way the ocean's

    Make this mist;

    And the wind--

    If i sing loudly enough I might

    Vibrate the trees,

    How they love dancing and laughing for me;

    And I just can't help but to laugh at her inhabitants;

    They dance oh-so rhythmically

    They're very creative--

    and grateful, they always give thanks to me

    It's no need, but the Earth,

    she keeps feeding them

    She makes these beautiful things,

    So sweet;

    Mangoes,

    I think.

    Greed; The Parable of the Mango Tree

    Mango VIP.

    In the pre-existence, a young God prepares for her journey through the Land of The Living; Her older brothers taunt and tease, as she shuffles through notes and index cards, studying her predetermined fate on Earth.

    I

    That's easy. The cover art's just got a Mango On it,

    White Backdrop; It looks super juicy; with a green leaf, I think.

    E

    Who made it?

    I

    Uhhhhh.

    ^>

    Uhhhhh...

    O

    You forgot!

    I

    No! I know, I know. It was....

    A

    Who?

    U

    She forgot again.

    I

    I did NOT.

    E

    Did too. Who made it?

    I

    It was...it was...Herobust!

    Y

    Herobust?

    I

    Wasn't it?

    E

    Wrong!

    A

    Loser.

    I

    I am not a Loser. It was…Was it Ganja White Night?

    E

    I don't know, was it?

    A

    Was it?

    I

    I don't know! Just tell me.

    E

    I can't.

    I

    Yes you can!

    E

    I can't. Your rules--

    I

    Exactly, it's my rules! Just gimmie the answer!

    E

    I think you're going to have to GOOGLE it.

    I

    Ugh, no way.

    E

    So is Liquid Stranger your final answer?

    Y

    Liquid Stranger?!

    I

    I never said Liquid Stranger.

    A

    Idiot.

    O

    Now she's never gonna get it.

    U

    What did you say before?

    I

    It was...oh...

    A

    See dude.

    I

    Shut up, I had it-FUCK.

    A

    Damn dude, you broke her.

    I

    I'm not broken, I just forgot -

    E

    Liquid Stranger, going once--

    I

    I never said Liquid Stranger! I know it wasn't Liquid Stranger; Why would it ever be Liquid Stranger?

    CUT TO:

    A pair of mysterious dudes Suits in Sunglasses are collecting famous DJs.

    SUIT

    Martin Stääf?

    LIQUID STRANGER

    ...Yes...

    SUIT.

    Come with me.

    ___

    CUT TO:

    Two fans are watching interdimensional cable.

    SUPACREE

    It's a practical--

    FAN 1

    WHAT HAPPENED?

    FAN 2

    IT JUST CUT--

    __

    Aliens in an Ascended dimension of hyper-intelligence are studying our three-dimensional existence from an unknown cosmic world.

    BRAMF

    Remember that planet I showed you--the--

    ARLA

    Yeah, with the Axis?

    BRAMF

    Yeah.

    ARLA

    Yeah?

    BRAMF

    Something happened to it,

    ARLA

    Like what?

    BRAMF

    It's flat now.

    ARLA

    WHAT?

    BOTH

    Woah. >^

    Sometimes, even i'm surprised by the things I've written.

    ME

    I didn't see that one coming!

    MYSELF

    Neither did I: I was gonaa say it was off it's axis.

    I

    Flat's funnier.

    ME

    Yeah, and probably not as tragic.

    MYSELF

    I mean...that would be pretty tragic.

    I

    Probably easier to manage.

    ME

    Perhaps…But I mean, if you have a whole planet, and then it just collapses--

    MYSELF

    It's just flattened; nobody said it collapses.



    MEANWHILE

    The planet collapses.

    __________

    CUT TO:

    SUPACREE is now a full-blown superpowered vigilante; She seeks revenge for GETTER sending her through the interdimensions at AUDIOTISTIC.

    SUPACREE

    Getter, we meet again.

    GETTER

    I've never met you before; what are you doing in my dressing room?

    SUPACREE

    Why does a DJ have a dressing room?

    GETTER

    I don't know; get out.

    [She swiftly leaves; as she exits, THE SUITS approach the dressing room door.]

    SUIT 1

    Tanner Petulla?

    GETTER

    Yeah?

    SUIT 2

    Come with us.

    GETTER

    Fuck that!

    [He doesn't have a choice.]

    Oh shit, the next scene is already written, I remember this.

    Oh, okay! I get it!

    Yeah.

    She's still at--

    She's still on the--

    ____



    JUST KILL YOURSELF ALREADY.

    For what?

    You're suck in this until it's done.

    What's done? It'll never be over, it's just infinite.





    ENTER THE MULTIVERSE ^

    UNTITLED DOCUMENT <>

    <><><>

    >< >< ><

    ANGEL 1

    YOU'RE GONNA LISTEN TO SKRILLEX ON YOUTUBE?

    ANGEL 2

    DON'T.

    JESUS

    I mean...

    ANGEL 1

    DON'T you dare.

    SUPACREE

    I might as well, by the time I finish downloading it I probably won't even be able to listen to it.

    ANGEL 2

    You shouldn't.

    SUPACREE

    I shouldn't, but I know i have to.

    ANGEL 1

    In PUBLIC?

    JESUS

    Could go Incognito...

    ANGEL 2

    INCOGNITO; The “oh please don't look at this:” easy algorithm engine for “LOOK AT ME, I'M HIDING SOMETHING.”

    MEANWHILE...IN DEEP MEDITATION…(IE OMNIPOTENCE)

    SUPACREE

    So... if a song is... nothing but question and answer, what's a song which references another in an attempt to address the question which was asked?

    ME

    A conversation between one song and another?

    MYSELF

    I guess, yes;

    I

    Well, that would be a symphony, I would suppose.

    SUPACREE

    It would, wouldn't it.

    ME

    That is, if the songs were in sync.

    MYSELF

    They could be made to be.

    I

    Every song is made to be in sync;

    ME

    I mean, two songs, made to be in sync with each other.

    _______

    SUPACREE is on the floor at a rave.

    BASSGOD

    WAKE UP.

    SUPACREE

    This isn't funny anymore.

    ANGEL

    It was never funny. You have to get up.

    SUPACREE

    I'm up.

    BASSGOD

    You're NOT UP.

    ANGEL

    Come on, you have to do this.

    SUPACREE

    I'm doin it.

    GOD

    NO.

    ANGEL

    It's no use. She's so, so under there. It would take all of us to try to pull her out--that is without...

    [The darkening sky crumbles, as the thunderous storm rages, the battle between worlds expands throughout the outer galaxies.]

    ____

    You're not skinny enough

    You're not pretty enough

    You're too dark,

    And you don't work quickly enough

    Much younger girls are putting in such

    Efforts, just to be, the perfect little beauty queen

    You wish you were,

    But couldn't be and

    kids these days are

    Everything that means

    anything

    Sometimes I Don't Wanna Be Happy…

    It was bad,

    But better than I'll ever be

    A basic remix,

    For the basic bitch that sings it

    And,

    I'm basically a Dillon Francis fiend,

    Have you seen this?

    Now it's getting serious,

    I seriously doubt there's anything I can do about it

    It's in God's hands and,

    I live in Satan's house

    How did he do this?

    How did this happen?

    The sad result of the damage,

    Cause i'm pretty sure

    The very last time my ex ever hit me

    Something got stuck on repeat;

    It's just eating me up.

    ___

    [Untitled Document]

    What did we call that place, between “The Blackout” and waking up.

    Hazy.

    I thought it was something more clever.

    Maybe, but i'll never find it if i'm just scrolling through these documents.

    Write ”Untitled Document”

    That's all I've got, I guess.

    _____

    [A DJ] Can be played by literally any DJ.

    A wild, wild party has happened. A DJ wakes up, previously having been sprawled out across the floor.

    A DJ

    Whose house is this…? Ugh.

    [Looks in mirror.]

    A DJ

    ughhh.

    [S/he gets up and stumbles groggily, stepping over bodies hunched and perched, slung about sleeping. Peacefully. The sun is bright, a curse to the eyes of the clearly hungover, and likely still quite inebriated DJ. ]



    CONCURRENTLY:

    >>>

    SUPACREE awakens from a ‘stupor' herself, displeased. She looks in the mirror, at first disgruntled, then “picks up her face” adjusts her perception, and decides,

    SUPACREE

    (“I'm good.”)

    Yep.

    [And she keeps it steppin, still asking aloud, as she ponders to herself;]

    SUPACREE

    Whose house is this?

    [And makes her way into the kitchen, where she (probably in a montage) cleans around the many bodies of hot people and rave babies still smudged and dripping in everything glittery; she appears to have ‘frozen time', as she vacuums faces and erases permanent marker penises drawn onto the foreheads and other exposed body parts of those who have fallen asleep with no shoes on. She cooks breakfast and straightens the entirety of what is now more recognizable as someone's home, though the owner still remains unknown. She sips coffee and reads the newspaper, as she steps behind the freshly detailed decks; and prepares a set through the headphones shes hung happily around her neck.]

    PAUSE

    ME

    See! THIS IS RIDICULOUS.

    MYSELF

    It is. Ridiculous. You can't vacuum someone's face!

    I

    Not that part--

    MYSELF

    --Especially white people!

    ME

    You never said they were all white people.

    I

    I mean, predominantly; it said hot people and rave babies.

    MYSELF

    That's racist!

    ME

    It isn't. This whole scene would be entirely different, if it had nothing but black people in it.

    ALTERNATELY:

    She wakes up in the same house, but it's clean.

    SUPACREE

    ...Whose house is this?

    BEYONCE

    It's my house.

    SUPACREE

    It's... nice.

    BEYONCE

    Yes it is.

    ______

    DILLON FRANCIS has the master plan.

    SUPACREE

    Ugh, he knows everything.

    GOD

    Not everything, dear, believe me.

    SUPACREE

    Everything that matters.

    GOD

    There's no such thing as everything that doesn't matter.

    SUPACREE

    ...What?!

    __

    Don't look in there!

    You won't find anything in there.

    I hate these things.

    ____

    It doesn't work if you don't practice.

    How do I practice without decks?

    You don't.

    How do I Dj without practicing?

    You don't.

    So DJing is just for rich people?

    I mean, primarily, or just...anyone with money, if you have it.

    Fuck this, I quit.

    You can't quit. If you quit we forfeit the game.

    No...

    You idiot.

    What game?

    I thought she knew about the game.

    What. game.

    Well, it's not just a game, it's a language.

    WHAT GAME.

    She's about to be so angry, dude, just---

    Just run.

    ___

    8 Dimensional--wait, what?

    Oh, she finally made it.

    I never thought she'd get to this part.

    Well, she stopped eating meat and cooks asian food--

    ---yeah, but that's like 6 different places--

    She's not listening to Skrillex.

    --She's not skipping it--

    --yeah, but she isn't listening to it actively.--

    Josh Pan.

    Yeah. I am.

    Why.

    I thought we were past “why”

    We were, we were WAY past “why”

    It wasn't really a question, guys, don't worry about it.

    “Don't worry about it” Tsh.

    Tsh.

    ___

    It's just an expression.

    “expression” yes. I get it--

    ___

    He named it “Kliptown Empyrean”

    What.

    What's “Empyrean”?

    I'd love to know, but I don't.

    Don't google it.

    I won't, I just.

    __

    GO KARTS. With A K.

    __

    Where's Kliptown?

    South of Capetown?

    South?

    South Afri--

    Stop.

    HE”S AFRICAN?

    Stop.

    What's more offensive;

    Being called an African,

    or an Alien?

    ___

    One off...hmmm…

    Always one off.

    ___

    Get out of my house!

    This is your house? Thank God, I was starting to worry the owner like wandered off and got lost; or, you know (makes slitting throat)

    I... no, this is my--wait. Who are you?

    Me? I'm S U P A C R E E

    “S U P A C R E E”?

    [having been yet unrecognized, shes is used to having to spell it]

    Yeah;



    ___

    Key of Cringe:

    I'm in a box with all my thoughts,

    And I am not on top of the world

    Or taking shots,

    I'm just rocking back and forth

    Like broken record,

    Repeating sequences,

    a robot

    A beat box of kittens

    Nobody wants

    I'm lost

    (if rock and roll will take me

    I wonder how much it costs)

    ____

    What did this kid do?

    Nobody knows

    _Oh, shit, it's the Jews again.

    I love the Jews.

    We know.

    I keep telling you, you're jewish

    I'm not jewish my mom's…

    That's not your mom.

    Of course that's my mom.

    It's not, I already told you what planet you're on?

    __

    Now, tell us why we wear our masks!

    Oh, there are lots of reasons for that.

    Tell us about the Sauce!

    All the sauce?

    Yeah!!!

    That would be a long story.

    __

    Oh, the Google kids are cute, too.

    I especially love that little chunky one.

    He is cute, he's probably my favorite, actually

    ____

    PIERCE?

    Who the fuck is PIERCE?

    Google it.

    I like this, this is-

    It's different, isn't it?

    Yeah, and then it

    __




    Sunni—are you Jewish?

    I...identify as “Jewish”

    You can't just identify as Jewish.

    Well, I do.

    No, you can't just “identify” as Jewish; your mother has to be Jewish.

    Okay; my mother is Jewish.

    Sunni—you don't talk much about your family; who's your mother?

    Who's your mother?! Oh!

    Okay, we're done.

    See you next time, bye!

    What are you doing?

    What?

    “Identify as Jewish”?!

    WHAT?! I do!

    No I don't!

    You don't know me!

    Maybe not! But I know TMZ.

    I'm not on TMZ

    Sunni Blu is on TMZ



    What did I do?!

    YOu know what you did.

    ∆

    Well, alright then.

    ∆

    Must be something.

    ∆

    I got it.

    .

    Don't look at me;;

    I'm a catastrophe,

    I'm just waking up now

    Don't look at me,

    I got so high i think

    I might not come down

    It's not a bad thing

    But I'm a bad guy, i promise

    It's not a bad thing,

    Don't look in my eyes;

    Especially if I like you

    Especially if you have other plans tonight,

    Or this morning

    That's right

    Time flies when you're

    (dynomite)

    Time flies when your mind right

    I didn't mean to stay here

    It's been nearly half a year, you know

    It's nearly half a year

    It's nearly half a y

    AHEM

    ALRIGHT. JESUS CHRIST.

    No, not that!

    [sighs heavily, frustrated]

    Enjoy Your Day.



    FARRO nobly sacrifices his own life during The Lovers Quarrel, as PETRUTHEIO attempts a final and fatall blow unwittingly against ‘CESMET'

    A saturn of satirical

    Return of reverb

    Expanding explosions of

    Outward and unearthly

    Worlds within words

    Or words within

    Worlds on the

    Curve of the

    Unwritten overtures of



    -Mother

    wow .

    I guess.

    Do you want a cup of coffee?

    I want you to shut the fuck up.

    What if Jimmy Fallon had a diary as a kid. And I found it when i shapeshifted into his body.

    Yeah, what if.

    What if this is it?

    [SUPER HUGE GASP]

    Oh,

    AHEM-

    No, i Gotta write this.

    AHH–

    Oh, the things i would do to you

    Oh, woah,

    The things you would do to me

    Oh, no, no, woah

    The things i would do

    AHHH–

    Don't be mad

    I'm a writer

    I'm like this

    Hi kids

    wanna see how sharp my knife is

    yikes

    Sigh, bitch, ive been sitting in silece

    With the lights off cause i like it

    Ilike it a lot, but uhm

    Ahem,

    The rabbi's mad cause that i'd write this

    And it's shabbat



    This is why i don't listen to deadmau5 anymore.

    What are you talking about

    *listenining to*



    GODDAMIT.

    what





    The invisible man, in Manhattan

    The sunglasses matches her madness

    The cloud cover looks just like Texas

    The suns going down

    And it's getting colder

    As the winds blows…



    03. JIMMY FALLON



    All ya'll are all worth bout a dollar;

    I am a cyclone, watch me holler

    I lived my whole life underwater

    I got a dollar;

    Jimmy Fallon

    All ya'll are only bout a dollar

    I work so hard, I guess for nothin

    I am not worried bout a dollar

    I got a dollar;

    Jimmy Fallon

    I guess I'll do it on my own

    I had to do it all alone

    I made some soup, all out of stones

    I am the only one I know

    I am not worried bout the sauce

    I am so famous,

    got a stalker

    I am so famous

    Can't go no where

    I got a dollar,

    Jimmy Fallon

    I'm at the office,

    Not my home

    No collab I work alone

    Opened a business, got a loan

    I got a hundred of them passwords

    I went frontwards

    —1I went backwards

    Went to Manhattan, took a walk

    Went to the rock and dropped a rock

    Now put your money where your mouth is

    I got a thousand Jimmy Fallons

    (What's that)

    (I'm the host)

    What's that, what's that

    I work alone

    What's that what's that

    I dropped a rock into the rock

    What's that what's that

    I'm the host, I'm Jimmy



    {enter the multiverse/ as seen on tv}

    Story/ music video

    Moderately famous household television Jimmy Fallon suddenly begins appearing everywhere—that is—on every possible TV screen imaginable— The Protagonist, in confusion, can't seem to escape, and also amusingly begins finding Pennies in very strange and seemingly random places—these Pennies then begin opening up portals, breaking the fourth wall and opening worlds to other dimensions—

    Have you seen this?

    Uhh, hmwhat is it?

    Mits m

    “Two dumb Jews, starring Seth Rogen, and some other dude—

    Who's the other dude— some Jew,but it's got Adam Sandler in it.

    Oh, so three dumb Jews.

    So, no, then?



    I'd watch the shit out of that, though, tvh.

    Why's the synopsis?

    Uhh.

    Two Jewish musicians struggling to make it in new York's congested underground music scene hit it off in comedy by complete accident, after being booked as a duo for a comedy club they mistook for a bar.

    Heh. Okay, who does Adam Sandler play?

    “The Bookkeeper”

    What. Who the fuck is “the book keeper?”

    We'll see, I guess.

    “Two Broke hoes@

    It's like two broke girls, but actually funny.

    What, be nice .

    Okay.

    Two Broke Ghosts

    That's better—

    —

    And marketable.

    Are you pale, or just—

    No, I'm dead.

    I'm dead.

    X.X

    Be NICE.




    Now our musical guests, SWAGGARBOMB.

    What in the fuck kind of music is that

    It's called

    “Dorkstep”

    [the doorbell rings]

    Great, who the fuck is

    I got a train car of your body count

    I got way far out to far rock away, way out

    Stop to talk to me, or don't,

    Kill your culture

    You need some?

    I got u—

    Probiotics, yo

    The truth hurts

    Your shit stinks

    Must be a mirror over herer

    Cause that's me

    I m your hero.

    Esha I think McGuiennes?

    Or McGrefor, after Ewab, maybe

    New York wants me to kill myself

    Maybe eventually

    New York if full of the devil

    The devil is money

    And everyone wants it

    The root of all evil,

    Is getting even

    The root of all evil

    Is people

    Beside myself,

    But besides that

    The ones hurting me,

    are soon to be where I am

    That's just karma

    The gangstalkers are soon to be stalked

    Coughed, and shot at

    The neighbors are soon to be eaten by their own demons

    When I don't clean them

    The root of all evil is evil,

    And that's all I see here

    White power wants me to kill my self

    The Caucasians get crazy when the race war is waging

    The elections are coming up

    And they see us coming up on conciousness

    They don't want us

    Just being honest

    They're hateful,

    They washed all the love out

    Thanks Karen

    But she don't care

    White firms just wanna have fun

    And they get to

    Meanwhile, me and I

    Eat shit( bro,

    And die

    Why's it nice to be white

    Even when you're wrong, you're right

    All you gotta do is lie,

    Open up your big blue eyes real wide and

    Decide what you want,

    Put us under your foot,

    And make us pay for it

    Thanks Karen

    Caucasians are terrorists

    I think it's McGuennes or however you spell it, cause half the names are like plays on

    Okay, I lie:

    You made a world where I have to

    Okay, I steal

    You took everything that I'm after already

    Or your ancestors did

    Call the luxury apartment reparations

    But ain't got no privacy,

    and hells angels and the kkk

    Ride motorcycles every time I get my eye on the prize

    So what's the price for being indegenous, black, and a genius

    White supremacy finds sneakier ways to kill you

    ESHA MCGUENNES (I thought figure out how to spell that.

    My left side's off

    I guess I got

    Stuck in the love of the art

    I was writing that part

    When the life of my love

    Fell over me

    A lover huh

    I'm so confused.

    I'm sorry bro,

    But if you're morbidly obese,

    But your feet are like a size 6–

    You are not BIG BONED.

    My doctor said I have a small frame, my feet are size 9, I went from a 10 to an 8.5 after losing 200 hundred pounds, I'm like “goddamn! Even my feet were fat! Fuck”

    But if you're fat like I was and your feet are size 6, your feet might be like a si3 4!

    You're a fat fucking pixie that fucked around and can't do little pixie shit now, cause you like pixie sticks

    Too much



    I'm just the rat in the dumpster

    I made this whole world up

    I swallowed the doctor

    I hearted the surgeon

    I locked up the dog catcher;

    I cauldron'd the Mormons

    I called it a sermon, but

    He called them all —

    Wait, who is Herman?!

    I don't know! Some black guy on that show I'm writing!

    what.

    I don't know.

    You're writing a show?!

    I'm on it!

    Ugh, I don't know.

    No fair,

    You really know how to make me cry

    When you give me those ocean eyes

    Those ocean eyes

    Good looking people

    In good looking places

    Doing good things;

    I just want to be Good today

    Good looking people

    Good looking people

    Bye, bye little bird,

    Think of the dreams we made

    Think of the drummer boy,

    Your lover boy,

    Then, the other boy

    There we go again,

    With the drums we played

    And the love we made

    It just won't make it

    Oh I

    Just Can't take it

    Can I come back yet?

    SHUT UP, GAYBRAHAM LINCOLN.

    I'm having breakfast at 10 am

    Thinking damn this depression is just setting in

    There's a chest on my elephant

    Chester drawer with hand carved elements

    Elephant ok my chest,

    Clisets with hangers and button ups

    I haven't won't yet

    What FOR

    WHAT FOR.

    MY EYES.

    For the sake of the art,

    I heart ya.

    For perhaps if I love,

    That's how I lost ya.

    So I keep all my love close,

    The brothers have found the fountain

    How many dollars do tootsie pops cost

    For one Jimmy Fallon?

    return to the blacklist.

    Great. Now I'm Jimmy Fallon.

    Well what's fucked up! What happened!

    FUCK! I hate being Jimmy Fallon!

    Whose dick swings to the right like that.

    Ow.

    FUCK.

    Fuck this guy.

    GODDAMMIT.



    -_-

    Let me in.

    Or I could just leave you out.

    No, don't do that.

    WHY.

    Ahh. Shhhhhh!!! What if someone sees me.

    Hmm, let's see.

    [rings neighbors dooorvelk, shuts door]

    No!

    The neighbor opens the door; now gifted with the ability to see demons, after merging with

    Fast forward

    Oh no, when did that thing come into play

    (When this happened)

    Liz lemon lives on the ground floor

    It don't matter cause she ain't never home l

    She's at the rock

    That's all the way up

    Good talk, Donaguey, Good, Good Talk

    Good people

    Good show

    Good good times

    It's good to be long gone from home

    Go to work at the plaza

    That ones Conan.

    Oh, Why?!

    Why not, though.




    OH, you mean—

    Katt.

    What up Snoop .



    Ahh,

    Look what the pimp limped in.

    You think you're clever.

    You think you're at least 5 foot—but you're 4 foot 9

    I'm STILL

    WINNING

    CHARLIE SHEEN relapses on the dance floor

    Oh shit. Relapses to which habit?

    All of them!

    10-4

    CALL RUSSEL BRAND.

    Csnt.

    Why not.

    He's blacked out.

    What? Another relapse?!

    No, he just— passed out

    KABLAM.

    “The Cockney Thug”



    He's just like that now.

    God

    What is it.

    Can I have ham in my spam samwhiches.

    —you want ham in your spam sandwhich.

    Yes.

    Roasted cantaloupe with

    Put your notebook

    On my throat-Scrotum

    I like your poems

    So I wrote you this one

    Oh. That's.

    Welcome—to the' creepy shit fans have done for u's backlogs.

    “Backlogs”

    Well, I have millions of fans,

    It would take me years to look at all this.

    [the festival project]



    Woah.

    Woah.

    Ok.

    Yo.

    Have you seen this.

    What is it.

    I don't know.

    Hm.

    Look.

    Woah:

    Yeah, it's—

    Wow

    Ok.

    It just goes on like this—

    For how long—

    For like

    GOH GOH l

    GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO



    CUT TO: Latest — 1:04

    WHAT?

    MEANWHILE

    ….IS THAT A JIMMY FALLON?

    LOOKS LIKE ONE.

    SHOOT THAT MOTHERFUCKER.

    ok , boss.

    I told you,

    He would play The Devil's Advocate,

    If need be

    [JIMMY FALLON is shot mercilessly in the shoulder in broad daylight.]

    YO. THEY SHOT ME.

    He'll be okay. He's Jimmy Fallon.

    [LIKE 90,000 Ambulances and a SWAT team roll up.]

    See.

    DEADMAU5 charges himself in a high speed chamber—a tech-driven coffin via a USB port in his neck.

    Lol.

    Ok.

    (PDA)

    Public Displays of Affliction

    I've never even see. A. Aston Martin

    Sometimes it's worth it,

    Getting lost in Manhattan

    I just saw the sign

    I wouldn't dare entering, anyhow

    Not in this outfit

    Not in this predicament

    (I just left the Whole Foods market)

    I got lost and god was happy

    Motor cars for music

    Force a figure ibto music

    Forgive Annie,

    Run a mile what's a california smile

    In New York

    What a garden

    Oh, what a garden

    Double back.

    For a second glance

    Oh, don't we all want second chances

    Now I've been an Aston Martin

    Motorists dot muses now u want her

    What a party

    I just saw the sign

    Now I've been an Aston Martin

    All by design

    Companion passing through

    KAWS

    I just bought a Ferrari

    I said,

    Where the roof is?!

    Where the roof is?!

    Blū electrico

    Roof finished in Nero

    Just a hit of magic

    A menacing, incredibly ambedextrous submissive

    One time I played God,

    I was hanging as the sun in Toronto

    In my third eye was a camera lense;

    My baby daddy,

    Lover and my

    best friend

    My husband

    My lover and

    My best friend

    My brother

    And my father

    Were my best friends

    Once upon a time I never had friends

    Now I remember sitting in the backseat,

    Has been

    I remember when I never had ribs

    I remember when I never had meat

    Nice to meet you

    I already had a coffee

    I remember sitting in the front seat

    Once upon a time I was anno one

    Once upon a dollar, Jimmy Fallon

    Once upon a dollar, Jimmy Fallon

    Once a bunch of Pennies, lady Gaga

    I'm a baby, haha

    Once upon a time, I was a no one

    A nobody

    Once upon a dollar, Jimmy Fallon

    I remember penny was a virgin

    I remember when you were the third one, l

    Once upon a time I was the first one

    Once upon a time, I thirst my quench with

    Coffee

    Body guard!

    I remember going on a long run

    I remember once there was a

    Knock on my door

    Now I quench my thirst with smart water

    With a hard on

    Never was a smart one

    Just an artist

    I was no one

    Once upon a dollar Jimmy Fallon

    Once upon a nothing, there was no one

    Now I take my coffee on a long ride

    No fun

    Once upon a dollar,

    Jimmy Fallon

    Amen



    I wish for every dollar I ever had, back

    Jimmy Fallon

    I wish it was 11:11, every Dillon Francis

    I wish for sandwhiches on leavened bread at Passover

    I wish this whole world would Passover,

    With the the stories in my home

    And in my notebook

    I wish for the fame and wealth with it,

    Jimmy Fallon

    I wish I never laughed at Dillon Francis

    I wish Skrillex was never a demon,

    I take it back

    I want the wealth

    And not the fame

    Just the freedom,

    Jimmy Fallon

    What do you mean by that?

    A dad, an actor

    An attack,

    The press is back and asking questions

    I can't handle that

    I can't.

    I just can't with that

    Abandon the matrix

    Go back to

    What's his name

    But I can't

    Cause I made him up

    Call my mother begging to drop the charges

    Called my God

    Just asking what the pocket watch does

    What's an engagement ring like that coat

    How much to rug the cameras up

    Inside my home

    So I don't know about em

    That shit's priceless

    Like the 9 Dollar's I've got

    Marked up, but not to spend them at the Market

    Jimmy Fallon

    I pray for your family

    But not as hard as I pray

    For my son

    Or God

    To take this fat off

    So I can look like Jennifer Aniston

    Cause that's God to em,

    22 year old Adam Sandler

    At a brunch

    A talk show with my

    Least favorite host of all time

    Jimmy Fallon

    But I love to laugh, huh

    I just got back, God

    My house is a mess

    I want meth like AshGod

    If

    Method man was drinking up the water

    Would there be backwash

    It's a horrible, windfall

    This awesome art project

    My broken heart

    The coughing stalkers

    Whatever the fuck is going on in New York

    I love New York

    But not New Yorkers

    It hurts to be the worst person

    The first person to put reverse curses

    On shamans from the 3rd world

    And I'm living in the first world,

    But I just learned that

    Underneath the surface

    Is the fourth world

    That's some dichotomy

    Huh

    That's some diabolical plot

    The cosmic avenger is stuck in a dimension

    Of white pocket tenses

    And white bitches who get offended

    With this scripture

    But listen

    I just got up

    And I've been privy to

    Never sleeping again

    Norman Needs you, Mrs. Hotch

    But I was never Mrs. Roberts

    With all of the hearts and crosses , stars

    I give up on love

    Where's DimlonnFrancis at

    That's a man without a mask,

    That's a mannequin m.

    Just got up

    And I still want breakfast

    All I got is

    Stuff that's leavening

    A hand in my pocket

    Just for God to show me

    Nobody I want wants me

    Jimmy Fallon has a family

    That's a tragedy, that

    But I laughed so hard in the bathtub

    I still haven't come back from that

    I feel bad for em, actually

    All the husbands

    Cause I was the wife that sucks

    And he hated me so much

    I got punched in the—

    Doesn't matter

    Stuck in the telling it over and over

    Nobody loves me

    My new password is

    Fuckit

    I'm gone galloping horses,

    And hornets, I'm just a furniture

    Probably should have aborted me, mother

    Just like you wanted to

    But I'm still in the hospital

    On the honor roll

    Cause I had them all lined up

    The prophets of the

    “Impossible, could not be my God!”

    That's what they all said,

    But they dressed me up like

    Some sort of messiah,

    So I was, then

    It wasn't right, no

    That was malpractice

    But now

    I've got

    Camping in Malibu

    Crossed off my list forever

    Shit

    It's some dichotomy

    Just hold onto me

    I'm the rock,

    You're the kite now,

    Jimmy Fallon

    I was just better off dead,

    You know

    Better off stuck in my head, you know.

    I read your messages, every one of them

    Every one of the drugs in my bucket

    I threw up from the fan club

    Impossible,

    Could not have been at that clown

    JIMMY FALLON - THE COSMIC AVENGER

    JIMMY FALLON THE COSMIC AVENGER is levitating in a hyper-meditative state.



    UH – “hehe”

    …I beg your pardon.

    “Hehe”

    Um…

    Fuck.

    Or “haha” “haha”

    …

    Just admit it.

    …

    Admit it already!

    –haha.

    Admit WHAT.



    This gets Levels.

    Nobody thought Patrice O Neal was a woman!

    I thought Patrice O Neal Was a Woman.

    Ah, fuck, I'm nobody.

    “Nobody”

    Is that Bob Saget?



    I swiped right on this dude, just cause he looked exactly like Bob Saget.

    Omg. Bob Saget!

    Fuck, that's right.

    EXT. THE W HOTEL, BEVERLY HILLS, DAY/ EXT . PODSHARE WESTWOOD ROOFTOP, DAY

    OH MY GOD, GUYS, LOOK: IT'S BOB SAGET.

    No it's not!

    Oh My God! Yeah IT IS!

    Fuck, really?! Bob Saget?!

    BOB SAGET!

    YO GUYS, IT'S BOB SAGET.

    It was, in fact, Bob Saget.

    Bob Saget's dead, right?

    Oh yeah, bud.



    That's it guys! No more dead celebrities!

    I'm coming with you!

    NO MORE GHOSTS.

    Look, I have something to tell you.

    UGH. COME ON.

    This is a weird superpower.

    EXT. GRAVEYARD, QUEENS, NY. DAY

    …

    …

    …

    Having fun yet?

    Alright! I have a question!

    What?

    When do I get to–

    Get to what?

    You know.



    Luckily, I die long beore Jimmy Fallon, and as my time approached, I took all i could absorb from the world within, and without, almost as if any and all of my deathwish had been satiated with the gentle ease, the notion of knowing my imminent death would come long before what those surrounding me would consider my time, and therefore would not be made to lose anymore than I already had–but at least, I did have th strength in knowing, not only would i never grow so old as to see for show most of what I had done, but that I had done most of what I would have at all, and not much longer than my words would form into all that would come to be known as my full body of work, I would perish, even before–long before– those I had studied, admired, and known to love–if only through the fourth wall, at all.







    The invisible man, in Manhattan

    The sunglasses matches her madness

    The cloud cover looks just like Texas

    The suns going down

    And it's getting colder

    As the winds blows…






    THAT was a HARD left turn.




    So, what time can we listen to Excision?

    Sometime after intermission.

    How many acts is this again?

    ___

    I told you, IN-FIN-ITE.

    Okay…

    I just wanted to know how long it would take?

    ___



    I know someone that cold get us in

    _____

    (Sitting on a speaker in the BassPod)

    What is she doing?

    What are you doing?

    Charging.

    __________

    I think I found that girl you were looking for.

    Where is she?

    I said I found her: I didn't say you could have her.

    She's not a possession, I'm just trying to talk to her.

    You didn't mention that she was--

    Be careful with your words.

    Oh, I think it's you that ought to be careful.

    You're losing your power over her and it shows.

    Mm. And what about your ‘power', hm?

    I haven't any power over her--

    Oh, but you do--

    Will Power at best,

    That would only be half of it.

    That would be all I had anything to do with; she was given free agency.

    HA. “Given”?

    ____



    awww look at that bass face.

    Well, that's one reason...

    __\

    Ah what! you can change your entire frequency? No Fair, I can't do that

    You can, it just takes practice.

    What kind of practice--

    ___




    Oh shit, this hits different with two headphones.

    It all hits different with headphones.

    Calorie Deficit Calculator:

    -3423

    Oh shit. Well how many calories did I eat?

    BEFORE:

    …chocolate chip cookies?

    NO—

    —CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIESzzxz—

    [CC/SUPACREE robotically and autonomously ditches her bicycle outside of sprouts, not giving a Fuck.]

    —s—noh! stop it! Stop controlling me!

    THEY ARE VEGAN.

    SO? STOP IT.

    Ooh, what's this.

    I don't know—

    get it.

    CC/SUPACREE stands awkwardly at the checkout with a varied selection of vegan baked goods.

    *beep*

    Yeaaaahh.

    So wait. SUPACREE is controlled by aliens?

    WE ARE GODS.

    Knock it OFF!

    [NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: SUPASTRENTH ]

    Nice.

    Yeah dude. Watch this.

    The Legend of Supacree is the #1 MMORPG in the world; it is also happening in real-time, in multiple worlds within the multiversial construct of the actual Omniverse.

    AGHHHHH

    In fact, nobody even plays GTA or call of duty anymore.

    YAH!

    [Random objects falling from the sky. ]

    SUPACREE

    Oh, nice.

    INSTANT MANIFESTATION.

    JUST POST THE FUCKING EPISODE ALRIGHT?!

    this bitch is fucking crazy. Watch this.

    Watch what?

    SHIA LABEOUF discovers The Legend Of Supacree franchise and becomes villainously obsessed with It, hatching a heinous and maniacal plan to hunt her down and capture her—tracking her every move and learning everything about her he can.

    Wtf.

    I don't know.

    Is he a villain?

    I don't know. I guess.

    I'M A SUPERVILLAIN.

    …He's a supervillain.

    I guess. Why?!

    I don't know.

    This is creeps.

    It is creeps.

    [lifts one eyebrow.]

    SUPACREEps.

    Scary monsters and supacreeps.

    Heh.

    NO, NO MUSICIANS.

    Heh.

    SHIA LABEOUF is a straight up gangster.

    HE'S CRAZY!

    [SHIA LAUGHING MANIACALLY.]

    Oh, wow–

    That dude is a straight up psychopath.

    You're a straight up psychopath.

    I'm not arguing.

    What is THIS part of the story?



    Well, son, you made it through.

    WOODY HARRELSON? WHAT.

    Woody Harrelson?! WHY?

    I don't know. He just fit the part.

    WHAT PART?! WHAT/!

    Nobody quite understands what's happening in ENTER THE MULTIVERSE, however, THE LEGEND OF SUPACREE has taken an incredible turning point, intersecting with the world of LEGENDS and THE SECRET LIFE OF SUNNI BLŪ/ THE SUITE LIFE OF SUNNI BLŪ.

    IT HAS?

    YES?

    WHERE?

    I WANNA DIE.

    OH!

    That's not SUPACREE!

    [CC HULK SMASHES her bike onto the rack on the bus. THE HULK, sitting just in front stares at her wide-eyed as she boards the bus over the rim of his sunglasses.]

    Oh, maybe, nevermind.

    Wait! Is it THE HULK, or MARK RUFFALO?

    I don't know! I don't give a shit!

    Why are you even writing this?

    Uhhhhhhhh.

    [CC's brain is slowly melting as she rides the bus to work. THE HULK–

    OR IS IT MARK FUCKING RUFFALO!?

    I DON”T FUCKING CARE–

    THERE'S A DIFFERENCE

    WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE

    IT – DOESN'T– MATTER!

    ‘It doesn't matter.'

    Chal's words echoed in my head almost too loudly–as boldly blind and sometimes even dumb as he was, he was also wise, and as it turned out, right–it really didn't matter. Nothing mattered at all. I had gone through the motions of reaching out to him, to of course as expected learn that he and whatever her name was had gone their separate ways; I understood that would be the case nearly immediately back in Mazunte, but as he was insistent he would woo her–and persistent in doing so, that I thought maybe after all love– or what really turned out to be his obstinate lust would win the day–and yet, it hadn't; he was again single and on the prowl– and although at one point I had even lusted after him briefly, trailing behind him in nonchalant platonic carelessness as he obsessively followed another woman, had allowed me to become comfortable enough in the friendzone that i could just simply exist next to him; Now, again faced with homelessness and factoring in my inability to travel much further than south of the border, especially now knowing well how to travel throughout mexico and into Guatemala, I wondered truly if my own self-worth had really been lowered to the point of allowing myself to meet Chal in Guatemala–even full well knowing that he, too, preferred perfect and illy white to my dark skin and quite seemingly matronly features, and, knowing for myself that I wasn't his first choice– as he and I had of course met in Mazunte around the same time he had met whom he considered to be ‘his Goddess'-- albeit while on a topless beach and thus hynotized by her breasts. Men were hopeless.

    Then, here I was, waking up every other sleep cycle in the cold sweat of a wet dream, the subject of which I typically at least tried to keep deeply hidden in my subconscious psyche as secrets, although by now it seemed there really were none, and all that I knew and that I thought were known and seen by some other than myself–though somehow still holding true to my belief that there really was none other than myself–in my own broken and twisted world, alone and punished in the depths of mediocrity and shame.

    Woah.

    Riding the bus.

    There's nothing lower.

    There's walking.

    To the bus.

    Yah.

    And all the sick people. And all the crackheads. And all the–what are those?

    Demons

    [demon hacks.]

    Ugh, fucking–ugh.

    SHIA LABOUFF'S obsession with SUPACREE is helga petaki-meets Tom Cruise jumping on Oprah's couch.

    Oh, wait, we're back on that storyline?

    I mean– I don't know how to write this.

    Just write it.


    he's a villain, right?

    I mean, that suit.

    SHIA LA–

    FUCK.

    WHAT?!

    Worst last name EVER.

    Well, not ever–

    Wait, is he black?!

    –It sounds french.

    GOOGLE SEARCH:

    ‘How Jewish is Shia LaBeouf? ‘

    –no, he's Cajun –

    That's french-black–wait—

    –what?

    Cajun AND Jewish?

    –Yeah–

    Jesus!

    JESUS

    What?

    (raises one eyebrow)

    SUPACREE strategizes a plan of attack.

    Attack for what?

    {ATTACK}

    YOUUUU INCEPTED ME!!!

    AGH!

    {COUNTER ATTACK}

    NOT ME! DISNEY!

    {DODGING COUNTER ATTACK}

    Yeah, Blame “Disney!”

    I JUST DID.

    Oh, yeah, right!!

    RAVEN SYMONÉ

    It was Disney.

    THEY OK'D THIS?!

    They bought Marvel!

    THEY OK'D EVERYTHING.

    —Even the SKRILLEX?

    Especially the Skrillex

    —Especially the Skrillex.

    AGHHHHHHHH——

    ———-AAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!

    SHIA LABEOUF VS SUPACREE:

    FIGHT!!!!



    Everything looks good—

    —everything looks good.

    Everything looks fine—

    —Everything looks fine.

    But wait—

    What?

    What about that guy?

    Oh My—

    —oh my…

    Is he gonna be alright?

    Is that guy

    —gonna be alright?



    Is that guy gonna be alright?

    Is—that guy gonna be alright?

    Is that guy gonna be alright

    Is that guy—

    Gonna be alright?

    Is that guy gonna be alright??

    Is that guy gonna be alright?!

    Is that guy gonna be alright m?

    Everything looks good—

    —everything looks fine

    Looks good—

    But what about that guy?

    …I don't know about that guy.

    Is he alright?



    Yo.

    Yooo.

    Stop writing songs about Skrillex.

    ((I literally can't.))

    What?! It doesn't have to be about Skrillex! It could be about anybody!

    Here, they call with disco balls

    Stars in my eyes, but stars do fall

    First true love dies hard after all,

    No star shines bright as morning comes

    —(for) Sonny

    …I didn't write that.

    CUT TO: CC writes automagically between sets of heavy lifting.

    IMAGINARY FRIENDS, PART III

    DEADMAU5!!!!

    okay—one more—then cupcakes—

    Cupcakes? No cupcakes!

    I WANT CUPCAKES.

    Uh—No way!

    YES WAY.

    Mmm—no

    I'm sick of this diet!

    I'm not on a diet! I eat!

    You eat GRASS.

    I'm a vegan.

    This shit sucks.

    I told you, grass tastes bad.

    RICK?!

    (I also want cupcakes. )

    Mmkay—ohh.

    You said that was the last one.

    No, more more.

    NO “one more”

    But I like this one—and it has the right amount of weights on it already—see?

    Jesús Christ

    He's not here.

    (Yes I am).

    Why the Fuxk.

    I also want cupcakes

    Okay, one more

    No “one more”

    The power of Christ compels ye!

    …

    Is that how that works?

    No.

    Maybe.

    (((Yes.)))

    AGHHH.



    The celebrities of Hollywood are gang stalking SUPACREE

    Can we—

    No.

    But I didn't even get to ask the question.

    The answer is no.

    THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD, after assembling with the Bampheramphs and Morherfuckers, have formed a supergroup tasked with bringing SUPACREE to THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE—so far, they have cunningly out-bested and outwitted THE US GOVERNMENT, including but not limited to THE FEDS, THE CIA, THE FBI and THE SECRET SERVICE.

    REALLY?

    I GUESS.

    HOW?!

    —

    DRAKE snoops on SUPACREE as she writes working half heartedly at THE NECK MACHINE with peaking curiosity, peaking over the time of his sunglasses.

    Whats it called.

    “Nautilus 4 way neck “

    BPM: you're a jerk

    Do the Drake

    Do the Drake

    Do the Drake

    Work that neck

    Work that—

    Neck, Becky

    Work that neck,

    Work that neck

    Do the—

    “new note:

    Purchase

    ‘Honestly, nevermind'

    I had worked an entre month at LVAC before the circus went underway; Not a single drop of Skrillex had ever been played over the loudspeakers at any moment, for any of the time I had been employed there, nor had it burdened me any of the other time I had spent bettering myself within what I once cherished as sacred walls–now the illusion shattered, as nowhere I could seem to run – even the rural coastal jungle of Mexico-was far enough to escape the clammerings of something I quite honestly very much still loved, but wouldn't allow myself to enjoy—

    Or maybe, now, couldn't.

    BANGARANG.

    ‘Fuck this shit.'

    I wanted to move, but didn't—I wanted to leave, and probably should have, but wouldn't. I just sat there through it as my coworker, standing at about 5'4 ½ in a pair of tight black skinny jeans sang along and bounced rhymically.

    What the fuck.

    Then, as it had just been earlier that I was thinking of Sonny himself, and how, be it that any of my premonitions were actually accurate and true as I had once thought them to be, there would perhaps come a day that I regretted not listening to his works, just as one regrets not spending time with a loved one before their passing not giving enough attention to the little things, the tiny details, the time they had missed, but never missed without missing their loved one until it was too late. Then again, for me, any time in the then- present was too late, as I had only been followed, taunted, and ridiculed, openly humiliated and embarrassed, and never really paid directly for anything I had done, whether it did have to do with Skrillex or otherwise –and so I had made it more than a point to distance myself from it, anything having to do with it, or him, or anything really, music related—of course besides relying heavily on deadmau5 just for my own existence–that is, willingness wake up, move about the world and its endless, pointless constructs, and even so, completing a worthwhile workout with enough satisfaction that I could allow myself to leave the building–and now, with my commute taking up a grand total of 4 hours of my entire day—I didn't have the time or the energy to stay late into the days and even afternoons as I had before, or to arrive early as I had in the days and weeks before; Now this job was amounting to nothing at all, and I was surely less than breaking even.



    Whats the worry?

    You've got 20 minutes to write a story!

    Don't be sorry

    Mind your orders.

    You're a war chief

    Marry me,

    Oh pretty please—

    I plead to you, just sing for me

    Just think of me as a

    Never ending fantasy,

    At the very least

    When you bury me

    —and you buried me alive,

    Just for the look of things

    What makes us even

    Slitting wrists

    Or splitting things unevenly

    (Either thing benefits me,

    And my penis,

    I think.)

    Make me famous—

    She said

    Hate me or debate me,

    I have everything I need

    And I have everything you have,

    But I can leave,

    All with my dreams intact

    I do believe

    You think I'm evil

    Either way, unnecessary

    Why would I sit down and write a story—

    When you just did it for me?

    Why would I pledge allegiance to old glory

    She's ignoring me;

    Why would I change my name to satisfy your needs

    When mine sit idly by waiting

    Why would I dream of you,

    When you dream of me

    I have all I need,

    You have all of me in the other room

    While you watch cartoons with your lady

    I hate anime and now I hate you too,

    But I'm so stupid,

    Nothing soothes my moods,

    Except playing your tunes,

    Or music

    Whoop De Fucking do

    Would you Marry Me?

    He said

    (He never did, he just let her—)

    She said,

    I do

    And now they're doomed

    I built a tomb for two

    The bride and groom

    In music

    Two by two

    And used by Tuesday

    Music I presume

    To the beautiful

    Music I presume

    For the usual

    Music I presume

    For those who —-

    SHIA LABEOUF

    JUST DO IT.

    That is not how the end of the song goes.

    No, but this is how the end of the episode goes.

    Really!? How?

    [CC stares lifelessly forward out of the front window of the double decker bus; a man dressed in all blue catches her attention—another telepathic shapeshifter.]

    You brought…an umbrella?

    I told you there was a shit storm coming.

    Oh, nooh.

    Where's yours?

    I— don't care?

    That's right you don't.

    I don't.

    That's good you don't.

    I really don't.

    You don't give a Fuck, or a shit.

    I—don't give a fuck or a sh—wait—

    DILLON FRANCIS?

    I'm good at what I do.

    What do you DO?

    THIS.

    “A Silent Partner”

    Oh.

    I like that.

    That has all kinds of insinuations.

    Doesn't it?

    Hermph.

    You're a creep.

    A Supacreep.

    PAUSE

    ITS MISTER MAGOOoOOOOOOOooO0oO.

    No, it's the IRS.

    Fuck.

    HOLY SHIT SUNNI.

    WHAT.

    HOW DO YOU OWE 100,000 IN BACK TAXES?!

    Student loan debt.

    WHAT. THAT DOESN'T MAKE ANY SENSE.

    Yes it does.

    HOW.

    Calm down Marci

    —MY ÑAME IS—

    [Sunnī Blū subdues her instantly with one if Supacree's mysterious rave weapons]

    Sit down, please.

    …what is that?

    You like it?

    Yeah.

    [she gives her another dose of strange vapor, she relaxes even further.]

    See.

    Yeah.

    Now that you're happy—

    —am i “happy” ?

    [she gives her another relaxing dose]

    —are you Happy?

    Yeah.

    Ok. So. I never filed my taxes because I had so much student loan debt, I would never get a tax return because the stupid government would just take it away.

    …They're so stupid.

    It's a supercomputer.

    Huh.

    The government is a supercomputer—it's a giant—unfeeling—

    Huh?

    Nevermind;

    But Sunni—

    Yes, Manuel—

    You finally got my name right!

    Yeah. I did.

    —but you're rich now—

    I'm very rich. Yes.

    So then (hiccups) it doesn't matter if the stupid government computer takes your tax return away, cause you're—rich.

    Yeah! Rich people don't pay taxes dummy!

    Shhhhhhhh…be happy.

    [sunni sighs and takes a large huff themselves of the mysterious vapor, however still quite visibly unsettled.

    MEANWHILE,

    (IN A PARALLEL DIMENSION)

    FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCKING—FUCKSAUCE

    Ooh—fuckity fucksauce?!

    FUCK!

    Haven't tried that one. Is it purple too!?

    SHUTTHEFUCK—UP.

    Ooh. It must be really hot. Let me try.

    Hello, Dillon Francis.

    Oh, no.

    Ha.

    Did you fuck my best friend?

    …I didn't know you…had any friends.

    I don't now.

    [he hangs his head.]

    ALSO MEANWHILE:

    (IN ANOTHER PARALLEL)

    DIPLO, in a villainous rage nearly murders DILLON FRANCIS, stealing his portal gun and a vast supply of his magic to track down SUPACREE and all of her living incarnations.

    Is this along the same timeline as Shia La—

    Fuck this dude's last name for real.

    For real

    _!%]_€

    Is it on the same timeline?

    I mean, that's insane—SUPACREE is being stalked—

    —Hunted—

    Hunted by not one—but TWO super-buff celebrities—

    Hey, to be fair—I didn't know Shia La—

    Whatever—

    Whatever. I didn't know he was that buff.

    Who expected this?!

    Literally no one ever.

    How did this happen?!

    CUT TO:

    What if I threw myself in front of a school bus!?

    That would be the 16th time you've died, since you committed suicide

    So is that 16, or 17?

    Does it matter?

    I thought it was 10 to get to Skrillex.

    I thought we weren't trying to get to Skrillex

    I thought we never left.

    We never left.

    Fuck.

    You've got to run.

    It's not a race.

    He's very fast.

    What if he's spent as much time in the gym as you have?

    Huh.

    What if he's spent as much time in the studio as you have in the gym?

    That's it.

    That is it.

    This album is really.

    Golden.

    Golden? Really?

    Probably.

    Ive never seen gold before—

    Oh—

    Look.

    Look.

    What would they even tell the kids?

    “Some of you will grow up to amount to nothing and, and out of those some of you, at least one of you might just have the guts to throw yourself in front of a speeding vehicle which represents the very institution which disregarded your existence entirely in the first place.”

    Oh.

    That's…a lot for a bus full of kids.

    Not high schoolers.

    Benny Benassi (and the biz) was the word of God today.

    Tell me what your spirit says

    Show me what you pray

    Teach me every single part

    I'll be your guide

    You are a prisoner

    Looking for to be.

    Like heroin through a junkie's veins, the song poured through my Hesh 3's like the golden waters of a sacred fountain of wisdom; it made me reflect on the everythingness of all at once, and I was at bliss, even if only for a moment, briefly recalling how I had almost allowed it to be a bad day—but there were no more bad days, I had decided. Everything was in synchronicity, and exactly as it had to be; everything was going along just the way it was supposed to, and I had nothing to worry about. All was in time with the motion of the great flow of life—then, just suddenly—thinking of such synchronicities, as I pulled out my phone to write in the moment—

    You can change your face

    But can't change your mind

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do

    No matter what do you do



    11:12.

    ‘FUCK.'

    I cocked my head in complete awe to the side

    ‘Hard flex, Dillon Francis.'

    It was still hard to compute that such a man had become my literal muse—and though I knew not the exact meaning of the word—I knew what it meant. It was fascinating to me, and astonishing that something so simple could in my state of once fragile and benign vulnerability, be used as a tool to help complete this hypnotism, whatever it was meant for. I wasn't exactly making music, or anything good really—and I felt like I was bleeding money and certainly not making my worth in dollars for all the effort and energy I was spending just getting to work at all, let alone to work out—but there was still this, though I could finally falter to being irreversibly in love with Sonny Moore, or at least who he might have once been ( or the idea of such, anyway—) I did very much think of Dillon quite fondly and quite repetitively through each and passsing day, and oftentimes in my dreamworld, quite uncontrollably and involuntarily, in whatever way I was, it was forever. It didn't seem to matter, and though I purged myself from actually becoming as obsessive as I had once been with Sonny, I simply left it alone;

    ‘It doesn't matter!'

    Chal's voice sometimes overcoming my own, in the way that I did now wholeheartedly believe that pretty much nothing mattered, especially my emotions or feelings, which I wished would disappear like the title of the album I had actually written and completed but never had the chance to release, and had just the night before eaten in record time 4 entire vegan cupcakes to myself,

    —even when I had at least thought to share with my coworkers—a feast which usually took between 24 hours and 3 to four days, if I was moderating correctly. But I hadn't been—I was over stressed from riding busses full of people who didn't care that as the natural empath I had always been, I became gross and dysfunctional as anyone else who rode the bus just off the Las Vegas strip between the hours of 8 PM and 8 AM. Gross.

    I successfully pretended not to know who deadmau5 wash and upon being asked what I was listening to on the bus, I simply replied ‘progressive house'—and just later that night, as my coworkers, most of whom were about 10 years younger than I was, clammoired about fame and famous Individuals; dead-mau-five came up randomly in conversation; to which I coyfully resigned from correcting the falsity that it once had “actually” been the correct way to prounounce the artist's name, and that he had “actually” changed it—and still, later on, when for the first time over the loudspeakers, a song by deadmau5 (besides the new kx5 track) came on, nobody but me could seem to recognize that it was him playing—and though I had heard the song by now at least hundreds of times, I couldn't name it…which embarrassed me, and I failed to even look upon the screen to fact-check or correct myself—it was deadmau5, it was good, and at least it wasn't Skrillex…

    —who had also, though just behind deadmau5, also “coincidentally” come up in the conversation—this time less sarcastically forging a “who the fuck is that?”—of course, only to be met with what had to be a good minute and a half of my gullible coworkers explaining to me who Skrillex was, as I shrugged and nodded unassuminglu as if I didn't want to shoot myself in the foot just to dance to the tune of my own funural music.

    (Whatever that means.)

    Back to Benny Benassi

    Are you sleeping? Ooh. I'm sorry.

    Back to the Diverging lateral pull down, st a weight that looked too heavy, but was actually almost too light.

    Whose job is that?

    Ehmm— Skrillex!

    Is that what he does?

    Is that what this is?

    —BABY, ID LOVE FOR YOU TO TOUCH ME BAAAAABAY—

    ALSO:

    THE US GOVERNMENT has gotten a new fleet of JEEPS.

    Who is this.

    [American flag automatic antenna extends from the back of the vehicle.]

    Ooh.

    What is that?

    WE GOT HER

    GO ARMY, BITCH!

    Why is the Army following me?!

    You can time travel!

    So!

    They can not.

    Oh. I can shapeshift, too—why didn't they follow me when I started doing that in public?

    They sent navy seals!

    They did?! When?!

    Flashback: SUPACREE is swimming when caught in a rogue wave, quickly transforming into a whale, before washing up on shore and transforming back into her human self, right before the eyes of the navy seals team.

    What the fuck.

    ABORT.

    WHAT?! She's right there!

    I SAID ABORT.

    MORPHEUS.

    What. I'm retired.

    I know, look—

    Don't call me—

    I need a pill!

    How did you get this number?!

    It's The Matrix.

    Touché.

    I know, huh.

    Don't call me. [hangs up]

    [she calls his other line, he picks up unwittingly ñ]

    Hello?

    I need a pill!

    You—have them!! Don't you?!

    No!

    What is “no”?

    I don't need the red pill, or the blue pill!

    Then I can't help you!

    You're the only one that can help!

    Have you tried Jesus?

    Jesús is busy! Listen to me!

    —Jesús is always listening—

    I need the purple pill.

    The what—what?!

    The purple pill!

    …you know what?

    …what?

    Dont—call me anymore.

    [hangs up]

    What the fuck!

    [redials]

    Call from: MOM

    Hey Mom—

    Hey, Morpheus.

    What the Fuck!

    You what the fuck! Help me!

    God Help You! WHERE's my MOTHER?!

    I AM GOD.

    WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY MOTHER

    —I Am your mother, Morpheus. And I just made your favorite: pecan pie—…

    …



    —without pecans.

    …

    …

    …

    Meet me at Fatastik.

    Uh…the swap meet?

    Near the Rugs.

    What?!

    —bring the pie!

    [hangs up]

    Damn, what's gonna happen now?!

    I don't know. Ask Dillon Francis.

    What does Dillon Francis have to do with this?

    I dunno. Apparently a lot.

    [shrugs]

    MEAHAHILE:

    DILLON FRANCIS screams uncontrollably.

    CUT TO:

    BEYONCE is a big fan.

    Oh wow, that's incredible.

    No, LITERALLY

    BEYONCÈ, mastering her shape shifting abilities has transformed herself into a giant fan.

    WOW.

    That is cool.

    (Literally.)

    Get it?

    SHUTUP.

    [CC in a high intensity workout-induced trance merges with the character DUFF as she locks her legs across the rotary torso machine. ]

    DUFF is paralyzed from the waist down after crash landing feet-first from her pod; She has landed in present day earth, first spotted by millions as a UFO; upon rescuing her from the fiery crash, recovering the remains of her futuristic vehicle raises questions from the whole world about her true origins and mission's purpose—however, stricken wirh Amnesia, she only recalls that her name is DUFF, and has very few memories preceding her discovery—it is clear that she is a human, and a high-ranking military trained space explorer—but remembers nothing of her own origins. It is suspected that she may indeed be a time traveler from the distant future.

    WOAH

    I know, huh.

    That's what's happening in that series?! Damn!

    I know, huh!

    Sometimes I surprise muself.

    And I'm not even listening to deadmau5.

    So what's Beyoncé got to do with this storyline?

    Something, I'm sure.

    Synesthesia.

    Oh—yeah, that.

    She's so pink!

    Don't be gross.

    I— whatever. duff.

    DUFF!

    DUFF!!!

    [DUFF is caught in a lucid dream; the original SUPACREE is in a coma after her failed suicide attempt—their worlds collide.]

    Beyoncé's voice looked to me as if butterflies had long streams of silk woven wings, fluttering eloquently in hues of fluorescent pink and painted shades of rose-tinted streaking blues, auroras of bubblegum entertaining with breezy mellow waves of yellow and flooding bursts of bright purple—a pure joy in my ear sight, which meant nothing to the world, but everything to me.

    Creating literal auroras I had only ever before seen in the frigid arctic night skies of Alaska, sometimes I simply had to close my eyes and breathe in deeply the fluid and sometimes glowing and velvety cascades—more so pronounced than the ones I had observed in finally linking kaskade's unique electronic sound to his name—probably because rather than having come from a synthesizer, it was Beyoncé's naturally unnatural voice—and by unnatural, I only meant that it was such a singularity that divinity itself had to have put her hands into allowing such a phenomenon to exist.

    I had indeed fallen In love with the talent and aura of this too-perfect southern belle—but one doesn't simply aspire to be Beyoncè at the ripe old age of 30; a lifetime of dedication to artistry could only result in such an immaculate perfection in performance—perfection I humbly honored, but tried my best not to crave.

    [CC, on the brink of being BLŪ but not having yet arrived in the true belief of her own accomplishments or potential. emotionally stuffs her face unforgivingly with Oreo cookies; a silent, friendly ghost, the ghost of the late great COOKIE MONSTA seats himself softly beside her on the bed. Another guardian Angel.]

    What up, Cookie Monster.

    I Am Cookie Monster— ugh—

    [Realizing she is once again confronted with a ghost DJ, after having been visited by Avicii and I_O now years earlier, but still an ever-present memory.]

    COOKIE MONSTA?!

    [He shrugs as she stuffs another cookie in her mouth, literally overflowing with cookie and reeling in the discomfort of double-stuffiness.

    Ughhhhh—I cant feel my face.

    I can't feel anything.

    Consider yourself lucky.

    I consider myself ‘dead'

    Yeah, me too.

    Well, you shouldn't.

    Says the ghost.

    Youre the gh0st.

    Oh yeah, huh…

    [he shrugs and nods]

    Huh. Yeah right.

    But it seemed like I would never make dubstep—working two jobs, riding the bus—and despite my sweet tooth, my shrinking waistline and quest for physical perfection in the peak of my absolute loneliness, distrust for the world, and disdain for the injustice of society. All it seemed like I did really have that was mine, was deadmau5 blasting through my ears at any given moment as my dirty little secret—Oreos, my synestetic facination with Beyoncé, and, of course, one of the best athletic clubs in the world at my disposl, given that I had the time or energy to use it.

    Altogether self-serving, señf-soothing, and best of all self loathing—navigating life had become more outwittinglu experiencing infinite death thsn not—an endless ego death in the confines of my own limitations and judgements. I had put myself in a shelf entirely—and now, I didn't know what I was writing for, but I was still writing. Even without making music, music seemed to make itself out of the words that could connect with my broken and tired spirit in whatever synchronization it took to type out a song, or a novel, or a suicide letter, or a screenplay—whatever it was. I didn't know.

    And…

    ‘It doesn't matter.

    COOKIE MONSTA fades away into the reminiscent whisper of a ghost, as CC falls asleep, hugging a pillow and still clutching an Oreo in one hand and her crystals in the other. The room spins as she fades into the dreamworld, lost in her self and the world within.



    Might be a saint,

    But the back doors open and

    The oven's on so,

    I won't close it,

    If it gets too warm, you know

    I'll want you to hold me

    I might be lonely

    I might be lonely

    I might be

    (((A)))

    S-s-s-superstar,

    Where are ye?

    Real nice car,

    A mazzarati you bought me

    High speed dodging the paparazzi

    I got to be lucky

    I got to be the lucky one

    We sure are lucky, aren't we

    Darling, you're sparking

    Park this thing

    Spark me up

    Let's party

    What are we?

    S-s-s-superstars,

    Yeah

    Red carpet party

    Set the alarm,

    No harming a full carbon body

    Yah

    You want this blonde fawning for your autograph?

    Or you want me?

    What are we—

    Let's party;

    Just us three

    Right here in the lobby



    Oh my god,

    That's just raunchy

    Stop to talk

    The audacity

    Or night at the odyssey

    Whichever one

    Haunts me less awfully

    C'mon! We don't follow the models!

    They follow me!

    What the Fuck

    Kind of husband

    Does this

    1x1 = nothin

    The marriage was loveless

    But honest,

    I'd honor it over another,

    And that was the start of

    Another concept album

    FADE TO BLUE

    Oh I get it.

    It's like multidimensional flashbacks, yeah?

    Yeah.

    Ok.

    ...And with any luck, I'd have the energy to sit down and write it upon returning to a place I could have myself built perfectly in the confines of my mind.

    I really wanna hear that new Dillon Francis album.

    It's an EP.

    It's new music.

    DON'T need this.

    Dont—

    Okay, that's definitely me.

    Fuck. I love gravy.

    (Or used to, anyway.)

    Where's the butt machine?

    I love this place.

    Thank you, actually.

    Remember this day from last time?

    Everything that's recorded.

    Why are they trying to kill me?!

    It's just YOU trying to kill YOURSELF.

    No, there's definitely something chasing me.

    *COUGHS*

    WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!

    It IS me.

    UGH. OKAY, THEN.

    What do you need?

    A home, please.

    Please.

    Please.

    I made dinner reservations at a place I can't even remember the name of—being homeless has actually been so detrimentally bad for me the only way I can grasp any amount of sanity is to keep exercising—while trying not to be reminded of Kayla Lauren, and attempting to convince myself I don't hate her for being born better than me—or at the very least—with everything she needed to be seated next to the man I love endlessly, or, rather—obsess about constantly, all the while the remnicense keeps haunting me tragically.



    Turn dollars into pesos,

    Turn the pain into muscle, see

    The dream can be reality,

    The dream can be reality

    Why are you getting pesos in Bejing?

    I need them.

    My ex is trying to kill me subconsciously—

    —or just—consciously.

    Why would he do that?

    So I can't tell this story.

    You're still telling it.

    I'm still living it.

    It's all in your mind.

    Then I'm living inside my mind, stuck in my own body—what else explains all this—

    —disgusting—

    Exactly.

    Better be careful writing about the blue eyed people.

    They run everything.

    What planet do they come from?! Do they need less oxygen to breathe?!

    They consume everything—

    —and kill everything else—

    Is that not the same thing?

    What planet are they from, really?!

    Get this: they don't remember destroying it in the first place!

    Humans!

    Hardly—but at this point, they're at about 90% genetic match, after centuries of breeding with them.

    Um, Try 93.

    Amazing.

    Wait—I have reptilian heritage?!

    That's a rarity…

    What am I looking at, exactly?

    I put the Omni in Insomniac

    Sent a message, asked Pasquale to run it back

    From the past,

    That's tough, I've had enough of that

    I'm only uffing rapping this

    Because I'm ufcking black

    And I'm—

    back to the club with a brand new hat

    Can't have that, huh

    What's that—?

    I'm back from the future,

    Who does that?

    That's random—

    Damn that's dumb—

    If he can't jump,

    Then I can't dance.

    Kayla Lauren can't dance.

    I almost laughed, at least.

    What a waste of a perfect—

    —idealistic—

    What the fuck, Sonny.

    Man. I miss being a DJ.

    Ugh. If I have one more wet dream about Dillon Francis I'm gonna have to kill myself again.

    Maybe it's the celibacy—

    Does it make a difference?!

    Ugh, why him?!

    Why Kayla Lauren.

    They're gonna kill me.

    Just—JUMP!

    JUST KILL YOURSELF.

    Well, alrighty then.

    Fuck.

    I love Pan Flutes

    I love josh Pan, too—

    Let's execute this execution

    Oh so beautifully

    (Ahem—excuse me.)

    Here's a movement—

    Here's another piece of me,

    If I just believe

    I can do anything.

    What is this.

    Another cypher, I think.

    How many of these?

    I don't know, I just keep writing.

    That explains this messy ass society.

    EARTH

    Stop throwing trash on me!!

    I THINK I HAVE A FEVER

    FUCK THIS SPECIES,

    I need SUPACREE—

    Please—

    WHERE the FUCK IS SHE!?

    1-2-3 NOT ME.

    Not me.

    —not—aww.

    How do we end this race war?!

    Peace, Love, and Unity—

    ...UNITY?!

    —-Rick.

    What are you doing in this reality?!

    Who doesn't want to live in the 3D?

    NOBODY! —

    Are you nobody?

    Everybody, I mean!

    Then what are you doing here, exactly?

    I'm here on business!!

    When did you start working?!

    I always stay busy! Why are you nagging me?

    Honestly, Rick—it was you that started talking to me.

    I just—didn't expect you to see you in this dimension, let alone this reality.

    Oh, really?

    Yeus, really, Unity!

    —then surely, you've noticed by now the only unassimilated beings in this building are you and me.

    Oh, my GOD—

    —Well, not yet—

    —that is Sexy!

    Yo—!

    YO!!

    Why do they keep poisoning me.

    Who is they?

    Obviously the part of me that doesn't know it's me and also keeps sabotaging my purity.

    What the fuck.

    Honestly!

    They keep trying to feed me MEAT.

    Why'd you stop eating it, anyway?

    Honestly? Once I stopped it just felt better—

    What felt better.

    My entire body.

    So why are you vegan?

    I'm not vegan! I just—eat less cheese.

    Eat less cheese!

    Okie.

    But, why, tho?!

    —Because! I'm sick of processing depression second -handedly!

    But you said yourself—you still eat eggs because chickens aren't conscious creatures—

    Everything is a conscious creature—they're just unintelligent, honestly—

    —chickens don't give a fuck about anything—

    What is this?

    It's a food machine.

    What?!

    The humans are eating eggs—now, they can eat these without climbing up into trees, and the birds won't keep going crazy over their babies never hatching!

    Won't the chickens care about their babies never hatching?

    No! They don't care about anything!

    Anything?!

    No! Look at the male version of these…

    [Rooster screaming obnoxiously]

    Oh, my God!

    That's fucking terrible.

    Ahah. Exactly. Heh.

    [Rooster screaming obnoxiously, even more loudly]

    Make it stop!

    GOD throws the rooster back into its dwelling and pushes a button, which activates blackout shades.

    Wow.

    That's an atrocity.

    You think that's bad. Wait until you get a load of these…

    Oh my GOD!!

    now you've done it.

    WHAT ARE THESE?!

    “The Pigfuckery”

    Wait—go back—

    Can't go back.

    I hate being fucking vegan! It's annoying! You have to ask for them to alter everything!

    Then don't be vegan!

    What was your deal with the devil, exactly?

    I never made one.

    Then what happened?!

    My soulmate did—whoever that is— this is half of the soul we were sharing. Now Satan wants the whole thing.

    Damn, that sucks!

    Just marry this hoe bag so I can start drinking!

    Thats a terrible idea! I thought you wanted Sonny to be happy!

    That can't happen.

    Make him happy.

    Okiee.

    Whyyy! Why in—Heaven's name would you create this catastrophic being?!

    She's not better than me! She's just whiter—

    A lot whiter—

    All the way white—

    —and probably had a family.

    You have a family.

    A way better family.

    Okay. I got it. You gotta be this rich, or have this body type to get close to Sonny.

    So— just kill my self, again?

    Exactly.

    If you eat eggs, why don't you eat chicken?!

    Cause it can't be kosher—or something. I don't know.

    (...yes it can.)

    When did you get Jewish?

    When I ended up fasting by accident during major Jewish holidays.

    How'd that happen?

    There are no coincidences.

    Why do white people get to be happy?!

    Cause they have money.

    Then, why are these guys so miserable?

    They have empathy—but they also have everything materially speaking—so they don't know what's wrong with them.

    Oh my God! Really?!

    Yes, that's what's happening.

    And these ones are just empty.

    Empty people, really.

    Yes, completely empty.

    Oh my GOD—JUST KILL YOURSELF.

    What's the difference? It's not like I have family.

    You do have family.

    Not that I can stay with.

    Oh, yeah.

    So what's the point, really, of having a family if nobody can help you in need?

    Nothing.

    Exactly, my pretty!

    Fuck Cree! Fuck her stupid ass family—besides that one auntie, maybe—

    I like her!

    FUCK SONNY.

    Oh shit, shots fired!

    WHERE IS HE?

    Not this again.

    Does she know it's just—Skrillex—?

    Does Sonny even know about it?

    Not yet, bitch.

    ...You know your photographer's in love with you, right?

    Not a thing.

    Yeah, not a thing. Until it is.

    You're just imaginary.

    I'm still the only friend you have, really.

    That's just ridiculous.

    Nobody would be here if you didn't have this much money.

    I have talent.

    You have privilege.

    I guess that's a deadly combination.

    Or just—deadly.

    Don't fear the reaper, baby.

    That ego is twice as regenerative as it should be.

    Stop following me.

    I'm just imaginary.

    [Suddenly, SONNY is alone—the gymnasium somehow seems even more empty, in the silence. The automatic lights turn off from lack of movement— he stands motionless in darkness.]

    [Loud coughing persists.]

    I get it, I get it.

    Damn this bitch is irritating.

    At least it's not painful anymore.

    Nothing is more painful than homelessness.

    —she can't hurt me anymore, if I'm stronger than her.

    —but she's prettier—

    Which just means, her life is easy.

    You don't know that.

    I know she has a little sister, which is better than having nobody around.

    What if Sonny's parents were crazy?

    I mean, they were Scientologists, so, honestly on top of being adopted that would explain leaving school early, maybe. I don't know. Stop following me.

    Mad world, again?

    Well yeah, I just ate dairy—

    What happened to vegan?!

    Getting there slowly.

    What about sugar?

    Same thing—you can't just quit anything cold turkey without it affecting you adversely.

    Didn't you quit cigarettes cold turkey?

    It's different when you're pregnant; it's not about you, it's about the baby—besides—

    Besides what, though?

    Even at 359 pounds I was still okay at listening to my body.

    RUN AWAY, BITCH.

    (Or—don't run, just—waddle away quickly.)

    Damn, I was fat.

    How much do you weigh now?

    Like 130 but i don't know how much all this loose skin weighs, really.

    30 pounds of loaded bass.

    Don't read into it, honey.

    Okaie.

    Cheese—really bitch?!

    Everybody eats cheese

    Yeah, except vegans!

    Why do I have to be vegan!?

    You're not everybody.

    Is there any chance at normalcy, after that?

    That's the album cover for Equality.

    Is this the story about how, I keep hoping it's Sonny, but he never shows up—kind of as punishment for not being there for my son?

    It could be.

    I'm trying to be—or at least was.

    His dad is evil—he doesn't want me around—

    Actually, it's the other way.

    He hit me.

    You deserved it.

    Now I'm Rihanna?!

    No, Chris Brown has talent.

    HANDS.

    Talenti.

    Mmm. Gelato.

    Is that vegan?

    Nothing is vegan.

    WHY DO I HAVE TO BE VEGAN?!

    Here comes Tofu Daddy.

    Oh wow, really.

    WHY DILLON FRANCIS?!

    WHY KAYLA LAUREN?!

    ITS THE SAME THING!

    DILLON MAKES MUSIC—HER TALENT IS STANDING.

    Her talent is fucking.

    Well, I have that…

    No, yours is loving.

    Out of fucks, are we?

    Oh, so tragically.

    I didn't abandon my family. I got thrown out of it by the Illuminati.

    You're in the Illuminati?!

    Bitch, I AM the Illuminati!

    ITS JUST ONE THING.

    That's beyond comprehension to almost everybody.

    Oh, human beings.

    Fuck these creatures!

    —they can be programmed algorithmically.

    Let me see.

    How many apps are on your phone right now?

    Umm. Too many.

    Exactly.

    It was at that point I realized, it was my first time walking down the street shamelessly touting a red solo cup full of the only thing that might resemble any sanctity, coffee—however it may appear to anybody walking past me; the bizzare looks and stares made me begin to wonder how much of Skrillex had actually consumed me.

    It was no longer adversity, but a death sentence of putrid lovelessness, amongst other things— but at least by now I knew how to rid my body completely of what wasn't meant to be there—that all *coughs* was, along with Kayla Lauren—was just everything I hated about my body reacting outwardly.

    Still, the sweet tooth that I struggled with persistently became a crutch for the absolute lack of friends and family, as I discontinued my pursuit for music and drifted almost lifelessly into the abyss that would be absolute obscurity; in the distance, my ambitions fading as I reckoned with the reality the only family and friends had for Cree, a ghostly and shadowy remnicense—as I shamelessly self medicated an imaginary disease, caused and continued by a recklessly toxic society; homelessness not a result of laziness or for lack of trying—but rather, for lack of family that would love and embrace me unconditionally for overcoming the overwhelmingly painful upbringing resulting in a lifelong battle with anxiety, suicide, and depression—never-ever able to understand that I might possess my own beauty, always, always, always being compared to the likes of Kayla Lauren—or someone similar.

    It seemed, by now, that I would die from a lack of being white and pretty—or at least pretty enough that someone might be proud to have me—and every algorithmic app I ever downloaded bombarded me with bikini models, athletes, and symmetrically ideal beings so much so that I refused to allow such programming to be the end of me. I no longer allowed myself to listen to Skrillex, or Dillon Francis—or really, anyone attractive for that matter...as it would only result in the self-loathing spiral into the infinite nightmarish dehumanizing that is in the nature of man—

    And as the world was showing me, over and over again every way possibly.

    I was ugly.

    I love deadmau5, Jesus Christ!

    Jesus Christ: I love deadmau5.

    I love deadmau5.

    -Jesus Christ

    I'm obviously not Jesus, but certainly a representative of some sort.

    Certainly.

    I'm not Jesus.

    Then wait, who's Jesus?

    Nobody's Jesus—that would make this the second coming.

    [Stupidly Apocalyptic Shit.]

    Don't read into it.

    Well, all these guys believe it.

    Aaaaanddd–all these guys believe *that*, so



    Oh, check it out.

    What.



    LIZ LEMON is drunk on a bus eating a wrap from subway.

    Why is it not a sandwhich?

    Cause it's a wrap.

    Yeah, but why?

    THAT'S A WRAP.

    Finally. Fuck nevada.

    Fuck Nevada.

    They put us at The Trump again.

    It's good continental breakfast.

    —?

    What?!

    That's not continental breakfast, you dipshit. That's room service. It gets added to your bill.

    Oh, so it comes out of the food budget.

    SUPER JEWISH ACCOUNTANT

    I'm not paying for this.

    No, you're not paying for it—the company's paying for it.

    I represent ‘the company'.

    What's that mean?

    The company's not paying for this.

    So I have to pay for it.

    Someone has to.

    What the Fuck.



    —!

    —

    FEARLESS is an inner-city pigeon who grew up in CENTRAL PARK



    EXT. CENTRAL PARK. DAYBREAK

    {Enter The Multiverse}



    [The Festival Project.™]



    COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

    ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©



    -U.

    TO BE CONTINUED.

    56 min
  • {The Twilight Zone} (A Multidimensional Mix)
    1. 15 Minutes of Fame Enter a the Multiverse Minimix is a quick spin through the infinite rave, whereas. The Legengs of Yeaterday, Today, and Tomorrow are trapped through the ages of time, celebrity status, and superstardom.

      1. {The Twilight Zone} — 1959

        3/10

        I forgot to eat after an hour in the gym and might have lost some of my mixing skills in The Calorie Deficit

        The Calorie Deficit— a Friday night/afterhours day pop-up multi-city dance club by The Complex Collective.

        This mix derives its name by its muddy bass gnoshes and weird mashups, pitchy vocals and the absence of the entirety of the Grammy winning hit Rumble, minus literally everything but the bass, just in case you wanted to copy and paste that into your Ableton Live later—or, like, fruity loops, if you're into that.



        To promote my upcoming Album As Seen on TV, all mixes for this series are named after classic television series, as you'll read below in this group of paragraphs sourced from IMDB, like, my favorite website of all time, that this mediocre mix is less mediocre, in understanding the series which the mix pays homage to.

        “The Twilight Zone”

        From IMDB.

        Ordinary people find themselves in extraordinarily astounding situations, which they each try to solve in a remarkable manner.

        The Twilight Zone is a place that exists at any moment of time, of space or of mind....but always when you least expect it. When you find yourself in this realm of unlimited possibility, be careful what you say or do. The right decisions may help you find your way back out....sometimes with greater happiness and wealth. The wrong decisions often lead to madness and death, or an eternity trapped in this dimension. Tread warily past the sign post ahead that says you've entered, The Twilight Zone

        —Bryan Ells

        Classic science fiction anthology series about ordinary people in extraordinary situations involving futuristic societies, space travel, aliens invasions, telepathy, dreams, death and the afterlife, time travel, and cautionary tales of dystopian societies and conformity. Universal themes include redemption, paranoia, greed, megalomania, self-improvement, and fate.

        The Twilight Zone is a classic science fiction anthology series about ordinary people trapped in extraordinary situations involving futuristic societies, space travel, alien invasions, telepathy, dreams, death and the afterlife, time travel, and cautionary tales of dystopian societies and conformity. The Twilight Zone is a place that exists beyond the realm of the imagination at any moment of time, of space or of mind....but always when someone least expect it. When people find themselves in The Twilight Zone, they need to be careful what they say or do. For the right decisions may help them find there way back out....sometimes with greater happiness and wealth. The wrong decisions often lead to madness and death, or an eternity trapped in The Twilight Zone. The series includes universal themes including redemption, paranoia, greed, megalomania, self-improvement, and fate.



        This series {Enter The Multiverse} is also An Anthology, and may or may not (but definitely does) intersect and coincide with The Twilight Zone, also my favorite ride at Disney.

        So. take that however.

        Thanks for listening.

        -Ū.

        Coming Up Next…

        03. [Happy Days]

        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.



        1 hr 2 min
      2. [15 Minutes of Fame]

        It smells like dill in here

        At least it doesn't smell like dead mouse.

        Aha.

        Youre Hellen.

        Keller or Mirin

        How would you be Hellen Miren

        Cause I'm the Queen.

        posh.




        You want to die

        Well, you better do it quick

        Better get your shit toggether, paint a l

        Bigger, better picture

        Bitter Betty gliching steady

        Just remember when you're ready

        Ever steady still forgetting dinner

        Dessert was already

        Forget this significance



        Remind me why I'm on this speeding bullet to nowhere

        Had no other options but to go under for something

        Shy, sickness it's a secret

        Just kill me already

        Semi robotic,

        Something like a magnet, attracted,

        Simply symphonies

        And soulless bodies, tied to money

        Wonder what was in the vaccum cleaner meaning

        What did you suck up, dude

        Who do you suck up to.

        When nobody loves you

        But your own son

        And the audience is robots

        Nothing really works more than once, if it's really magic

        Sit and do nothing would you

        Like you're supposed to

        Fall over like the mannequin you are

        Just a body in my count

        A mattress without a bespost, if it matters

        If it matters

        Doesn't really matter

        But hey, you know

        We all go downtown every once or twice a note

        For Hanukkah

        I could try to be nice

        But there's no sense in it,

        Is there

        If everything and everyone else is just as nasty

        As the rest of it

        Just is just a test, again

        A doctors office visit.

        Simple robotics,

        Or already stocked up for Hanukkah, Hollywood

        Where's your homeland deposit box

        Closet full of robots

        Closest to the moon, I wrote another poem for you

        Sorry that I wasn't on the offering table

        The parakeet, pigeon and pirated Slattery,

        Damages, damages,

        All with the Amazon packages,

        Now we're all robots,

        Aren't we

        What corporation to you belong to!

        Something corporate , or say anything

        Whose to say Jeff Besoz won't replace us

        With m robots with thought processes,

        If once such could project as such presence

        As an AI freestyle

        Meanwhile, I've got a butload of buckets and bunts,

        Bullletwounds, eyes on Manhattan and happens to wish something bad upon me

        When all I wanted is

        Somebody to love me

        And someone to love him,

        If that's what he wanted

        (But who knows if what he wanted was all of the bodies opposite of him)

        I don't belong on this planet

        I belong in the garbage

        Put me on mars, mom

        Stop it,

        You're almost a robot, get out of my peripheral

        With your mental illness

        Geez, I must really want a menorah

        This is the animal house

        There's no one alive here

        Set to be slaughters.

        Honor the box of offerings as

        Thoughtful words

        And parallels

        What could be under your tongue

        Is the surface of love

        Just to touch with the battery acid or chemical trails

        You have left in your axis

        Nobody knows better than this

        How close it is to touching

        Without being loved

        But nobody loves you

        Psychotron, sure we're all robots now

        Nobody loves anymore

        {Previously, On…}

        L E G E N D S

        The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

        {Enter The Multiverse}

        Ascension



        What the FUCK did you DO?

        What did I do?!

        You know what you did!

        I didn't do anything!

        Oh yeah?

        No! Not on purpose!

        GODDAMMIT, YOU SON OF A—

        Where's Jimmy Fallon?!

        What?! I don't know!

        Oh no.

        Oh shit, run.

        Oh no.

        What in the FUCK—

        I am “the fuck”

        You know what.

        I'm gonna sue the everliving shit out of you.

        For WHAT.

        We'll see.

        Fuck.

        Uh oh.

        FUCK.

        What now?

        What this time?

        Apparently, Jimmy Fallon is missing.

        What the fuck does that got to do with me.

        We'll see.




        Okay, great,

        Now finish that chapter.

        What fucking chapter?!

        All of it.

        That's—a lot.

        I want all of it. By my desk, by noon tomorrow.

        “By” your desk?!

        Yes, BY. Not ON. I've got too much stuff on my desk—

        …but it's…like 9 o clock.

        Should be easy, given your natural talents.

        What natural talents.

        PEACOCK.

        AHAHAHAHA.

        Okay. Well.

        Well what.

        This sucks. I lost all my coins.

        Hey.

        Ugh.

        You dropped this.

        So how was Los Angeles.

        What the fuck. You fucking DICK.

        I told you, I own shares in this.

        So what's the plan for this, exactly.

        I dunno, Harry.

        I got a book of stamps,

        And a yellow envelope marked

        “Jimmy Fallon”

        I will hate you forever.

        Well, that's retarded.

        I haven't even smited you yet.

        I will annihilate you, human.

        WHERE'S MY SHIT.

        Who the fuck are you, anyway?

        Nobody!

        No one.

        No one cares about this series, yo.

        I'l seriously doubt that, Jesse Pinkman.

        What is this stuff.

        It's your stuff.

        This is not what I ordered—

        Hey—

        Why is it BLUE

        Cause it is.

        So.

        WHY IN THE—

        Mischief managed.

        Alright. This should be good for the night, but we gotta get out of here by morning;

        I thought your parents owned this place.

        It's a time share!

        So?

        So it's like only —part of the time.

        That is stupid.

        No! You're stupid! You're the one who got us into this mess.

        It's your mess, I was just cleaning it up!

        Whatever! Stop trippin.

        Nobody's “tripping.”

        That's it. I'll be a stripper.

        Straight outta hell, that kid.

        Don't I know it.

        Alright, fine.

        I said, whatever you do—

        DONT watch this show.

        Stuff it, J. Slatts. I'll kill you with my eyeballs

        Sounds like a threat.

        Put on a lawsuit, then.

        Maybe I oughtta…

        —with a bow tie.

        You'll look so pretty.

        I thought I was already pretty.

        Uh huh.

        Yeah, look, so honestly

        I don't know if I'll ever be on the same vibration as like,

        Jimmy Fallon and them, ok?

        I don't know how I did it;

        I don't know what did it,

        It just happened and then—

        And then WHAT.

        It just—ended.

        Just like that.

        I'm not trying to offend anybody here.

        Just like that.



        Now, I ask:

        What are we going to do to sell you this dream?

        Doesnt matter what you do, I'll never believe it.

        Sure, fine; Don't believe it—

        We're gonna make you live it.

        Who the hell us “we” anyway?

        Now you're speaking in my cadence—

        Don't flatter yourself

        I like it.

        Too late, I guess.

        So, you see

        We're building

        Power triangles

        And

        love squares

        Power triangles

        And love squares

        Don't let it scare you,

        There's love there

        Don't let it scare you,

        There's love there

        Never fear where love has dared

        To call you up there

        Corrupt file—no fair.

        Don't be suprised even the odds seem to turn in your favor,

        I promise you;

        Nobody's ever ready

        For what has just happened here.

        WAKE UP, FUCKER.

        Ugh, I can't go through this again.

        So, I guess I'll have to erase,

        Or just secretly publish

        Everything I've ever written

        About my actual experience as a color,

        Just so that I can earn money

        As anything other than

        A slave—

        A maid,

        A housekeeper,

        A dog walker

        Or servitor

        So far under her,

        That I can't see far enough up to just

        Scratch the surface

        Her birthright:

        The entire network

        And mine,

        To sit under her,

        Wondering what the world would be like

        At the other end of the spectrum

        The word form of the

        White woman

        The wicked witch of all directions,

        In which I stand in;

        I'm at her mercy

        I've been abandoned before

        But this disservice, is, I'm afraid

        The best advice I can take is just

        To go straight to the bank with my angst and my hatred

        And shove it

        So here comes the nameless

        Face I love,

        Yet,

        The faceless God,

        Was

        Intoxicated, at best—

        Manipulation of the Mass Media

        I'm so

        Seriously jaded

        In this torture chamber

        In my corner office

        In this hall of racists,

        I claim, but if all is

        One in the same

        Then

        It's one in the same

        And

        I'm mainstream

        I'm famous

        If it's

        One in the same

        Then

        It's one in the same

        If it's

        One in the same

        Then I'm mainstream

        I'm so famous

        In a whole room full of humans

        I'm groomed to be useful for something,

        But what?

        It just hasn't come yet.

        I could sit down with a paper and pen,

        But I'm filling up all of my documents

        With hollandaise and God

        For what?

        It's just another song, or something

        Or something.

        It's just another —

        Goddamnit it, more coughs again.

        I told you not to watch this.

        Why do I taste pancakes?

        Maybe you're having a stroke again.

        Chyeah, a stroke of genius.

        I'll show you a stroke.

        Or don't.

        Well, there goes the captain.

        where is that scene, anyway?

        I don't know, I just wrote it.

        Great, she left the door open.

        She's got no furniture!

        It's a “dance floor”

        It's “the black box” she called it “the black box”

        Goddamn, do you listen to all her stuff?

        “Fear stimulates my imagination”

        Pilot

        ASOT

        Fuck man,

        What is a woman to a man,

        And an androgynous genius to

        The industry, or anyone at all

        If all are foes ans frauds

        All else is toxic!

        I woke up with one hand tucked behind my back

        Feeling dead drunk,

        I just woke up again

        But never fell asleep

        What world am I in?

        The end of the

        Dream sequence

        The end of the energy keeping me between three things:

        My past,

        My future

        And these prequels,

        Sequels

        And seeing arrangements

        And

        She's going crazy

        But nobody quite understands

        That these demons are chasing me saying

        “You deserved those hands in your face”

        The scratches on Kayla's back should have had me but

        I was too fat

        To find love again

        And still have something

        Wonderfully, undone

        And wrong with me

        Wrong with me enough to

        slam poetry

        So I'm guessing the white women I love beyond words and bounds are—

        In charge of whatever happens

        At the top of the rock;

        So I jumped off.

        I want to see someone suffer for all that I've done;

        No, that's dark, and karmic, you know—

        To go on like that;

        The confusions and refusal to accept that

        The album is called ChaosMagick,

        But the cover is more

        Urgent,

        A prose or a pawn of protection

        Against all the coughs

        And the reckless mismanagement

        The hands in my head

        And the eye on my scar

        And the lies on my heart

        So tell me,

        What happens

        When you're flying a kite with your heart,

        And it's broken?

        What happens to the kite ,

        When you fly it with your heart

        And your art up in bundles—

        heartbroken, heartbroken

        So what come of Miss May,

        Come January?

        What come of Miss April

        By Next December

        what comes of the words I was saying

        For no one

        But everyone heard them

        And I've been gone

        Much longer than months,

        But still stocked up on all that I've wanted

        Or all that I got

        Or just, all that I love

        But got no undercovers to acknowledge no more

        How right I was

        Or how wrong I am

        What come of Miss June, when Miss January comes around?

        what come now, around August,

        When March is long forgotten?

        What comes of the drugs,

        Of the come ups, and come downs

        What comes of the process

        When nothing is served

        But the surf has come up

        Somewhere

        And I just can't love enough

        To go there

        I want to go to there

        I want to be that girl

        I want to sit at the top of the rock

        Writing songs, and sipping mock cocktails

        I want to



        Don't you know

        I just want to get back to

        Where I belong

        I'm so out of money and love

        That I want to be

        Under the train,

        When it's coming

        (Sometimes it's just the impulse that says

        “GO”

        Then the train starts to slow

        And my pain bubbles up into a numb,

        Dumb, crumbling cluster of poetry

        You know?

        Or you don't

        Cause you're all just on your phones

        Scrolling

        Some black man stands over me,

        Reminding me of why I never trust the ones

        Who want me most,

        Or just assume,

        By color code,

        That I belong to them

        I'm sorry,

        I just can't write with your arms around my neck like this

        Your heart around my arms like this

        It's so wholesome

        I had other verses but forgot them

        They took away my movies for the curses

        And the hexes

        That they put on me

        I said don't.

        And the king said

        “Heads will roll”

        Cause, you know;

        I've got parts for all of them now,

        The ones I'd forgotten

        But come from the catacombs,

        Back from the conduit

        You know,

        This is awful

        I had another one,

        But lost it.

        The king?!

        Which one.

        Teas I!

        No, it wasn't,

        It was Gían's father,

        From further off

        Should I call John back?

        Which one?

        Turns out, I love all of them—

        Turns out, I've got all of them

        In my college

        I taught them all to be someone

        Becoming of acknowledgement

        With nombres most common

        Juan, in subcultures, but

        Beyond that

        (Or above them)

        It's John,

        Or just Jonathan,

        Watch the ones who drop the consanant;

        They're always so troublesome,

        But I took them all up

        As understudies,

        Social Studies and some theatrics,

        Joan of Ark said

        Two more moments

        (Two more weeks in)

        I could have a body worthy

        Of a Grammy award, but —

        Would I be a writer then?

        Probably not, hon—

        Writers are

        Off a bit.

        If you were pretty, ever at all— would you have written this?!

        If I were pretty at all would there be reason to be this

        Conflicted?

        Some of those old New York hallways

        Haven't been painted

        In ages

        Since they made them

        Don't make that face at me

        I only dropped my key once

        On the fourth floor

        —they're horrible, you know

        To us,

        The “brothers” know no love

        They are destruction, speaking

        Of this,

        I got a cold heart.

        Cold like the robber

        Cold like the calling I've done in my corner office cold, like the jello mold forming a thought process

        Worthy enough

        I might love it like a husband

        We're re-evaluating your circumstances.

        Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

        I've got friends at USPS

        What the fuck could that even account to.

        Look, I'm gonna have to give this some serious considerations.

        It's not that serious.

        It's not that serious.

        Of course it is!

        I'm up to my knees in investments!

        So?!

        I wade a waiste deep,

        Surely you can get by

        “Up to your knees”

        What exactly do you need?

        Money. And lots of it.

        I mean, from me.

        Money.

        Really?

        Leave me alone.

        I told you not to write this.

        You're a voice in my head;

        No, I'm the hand in your mailbox.

        What in the fuck do you believe in.

        I believe in everything!

        They said you were a genius;

        I didn't expect you to be

        —at the very least, lucid—

        *squints* learn some new vocabulary, okay?

        For what?



        Dinner.

        Maybe.

        We're still in the process of voting.

        She's crazy.

        We'd be crazy not to actually hire her.

        Her accounts are all practically open;

        We could just take it.

        Yeah, and when she kills herself, and there's no blood on our hands—

        There's nothing that can be done about the amount of this stuff that's already printed!

        Printed?!

        What?!

        You mean—

        She's published?

        Self-published.

        My, what a beautiful happenstance

        To have already had you

        And awakened atop mattresses

        Marked for my assassins hand—

        Polite, I lost you

        All of us,

        Atop the rock

        We stood and suffered

        Months beyond a montage,

        Undercover

        Love was lost,

        And all's uncertain

        The interception of God,

        At the cost of

        What terror and cutbacks

        Have caused us all

        What you lost was $50, a Hallmark Card, an Academy award, a long lost star's phone number,

        And all that you wanted,

        The cock of the gun

        Was the sound that you wondered

        What was called

        , then ran off into wonder.

        How am I gonna make money

        And become an award winning songwriter

        Music producer

        And multidisciplinary artist,

        Without all the funding it takes to get noviced

        Without taking clothes off

        Wake up 10 years younger

        I'm suffering

        My stomach was a rubber band

        My stomach was a rubber band

        My only song was Water

        I forgot to stop

        For the applause

        I drowned in all the love; right then and there

        I died of

        Lovenessness

        [The Festival Project]

        The sound and laughter of children play

        A baby in a basket

        The basket case at Trader Joe's

        Who know what happens

        It just doesn't pull my heartstrings any longer

        That my son belongs without his mother

        So I'd better have another

        This is us, come on.

        Don't do this to me.

        Don't do this, Timmy, you'll be sorry.

        Come on! We're not even in that movie!

        We are, though; it's still

        Listen, you've got the right guy for this.

        Are you sure.

        Yeah, I promise.

        Officers,

        Stop for a *movement

        [hot cops flash dance number]

        Fuck, well, that was all wrong.

        But worth it!

        What I meant was—

        God, this show gets good at 31,

        But I'm only 22,

        So I guess I'll know how wrong the war was

        Once we've lost it,

        Cause imm a man now

        The episode is over,

        Soon comes the next episode

        With snoop dogg,

        Or not

        That was our wedding album.

        Scatterbrained, and pregnant—

        There she was just putting all the things together

        That she needed to be

        Needed

        To be needed.

        There she was,

        All on 4/20

        Trying not to do the wrong thing,

        But what was it?

        To be loved.

        Then,

        There she was at 21 just going off again

        At some event—

        A friend, and her

        Back then could not imagine

        They'd become him

        To be someone.

        Not as one,

        But of entirely another

        World apart, aside from

        Cyclones into snow cones

        Turns the watchers into artists

        All their own,

        And off my own accord

        Or own account

        Or done with boredom

        Dove soap

        Open doors

        And clocks that turn the other hand away,

        Each day you love Manhattan

        But can't have that.

        That's it—

        This is just Season 1 of Mad Men

        WHERE THE FUCK IS—

        [she throws her hands above her head in surrender]

        I don't KNOW!

        Oh, you're a girl now?!

        I guess!

        What's with those pants, then?

        To hide the assets!

        What assets?! You look tragic.

        I'm going for ‘skeleton' to match all your wives and everybody else on the red carpet

        Who said you get the red carpet?

        Manhattan.

        That guy lies!

        Well how about this:

        The walk of stars were carved out in blocks of marble

        All in my honor.

        1000/1

        You're our God, now.

        What!

        I don't want to be God!

        SUCK IT UP. YOU WON.

        I don't wanna!

        Yaaaaaaayyy. You got the award!

        All the awards!

        Speech!

        Speech!

        SUNNI BLŪ

        Uh—-

        I'm drunk,

        And there's nothing on the teleprompter

        [a man in the audience coughs]

        A-HEM.

        [Sunni Blū immidiateky shoots the coughing man]

        [multi-camera shots of celebrity audience reactions; laughing, clapping in hilarity as if someone hasn't just died]

        TAYLOR SWIFT

        (unmoved at all)

        SUNNÏ BLŪ

        I don't know why you're laughing.

        That was awful.

        That guy died

        [audience is insane, super fake as usual]

        [more cut takes]

        SUNNÏ BLŪ

        It should have been you, Taylor.

        TAYLOR SWIFT

        (Still unaffected)



        SUNNI BLU

        Anyway. I'd like to thank the academy…

        Cause I am the academy

        [Audience is celebrities being celebrities]

        SUNNI BLU

        You guys are all idiots:

        I'm a go f*ck myself—

        And anyone else who wants to show up

        At my afterparty.

        Whatever.

        Peace.

        [cheesy academy award music plays—Sunnï knocks over the mic, peaces out obnoxiously; the audience cheers wildly and the host returns to the stage.]

        Who's the host?

        Whatever.

        Hey, better than nothin.

        You're telling me.

        yeah.

        I know:

        Oh, she's a comic?

        Yeah.

        I got it.

        BOB SAGET

        Ooh, that's good.

        Ū

        No—no my God.

        No Bob Saget, stop it!

        Wait, Bob Saget is dead right?

        Last I recall:

        Fuck—FUCK!

        Dammit. Dammit, dammit.

        Okay, Rue— you're up.

        Rue, what in the—

        Shhhh, don't let them know I'm in here!

        Oh, wait—

        It's me, Blanche.

        That's hot.

        I'm a debutant.

        My god, you're so young.

        Here, take this,

        What's that,

        You'll need that.

        V.O.

        I'm being hunted by the ghost of Bob Saget.

        *haunted.

        No, hunted!

        There she is! Grab her!

        Ooh, Bob Saget.

        Why, yes.

        How old are you?

        Not dead yet!

        You don't have to kidnap me, I'll happily go with you, sir.

        Really?

        Yes.

        GET IN THE—

        NOH,

        GET IN THE VAN.

        INT. IN THE VAN.

        [a bunch of hot male celebrities are in the van]

        Oh. Okay.

        Wow.

        That was easy.



        What is it, Friday.

        It's Friday and a half.

        Friday.5

        What.

        There's a Friday movie between 1 and 2

        So I guess this is season 8.5

        I guess this is season 8.5

        HEY, GET BACK HERE.

        What is this.

        It's your lunch.

        I don't want this.

        Well, okay.

        What— is this strange music—

        They call it dubstep

        Come on, Jimmy, you're slipping

        Kimmel, cause Fallon is dead or presumed missing

        Probably Skrillex

        Probably a bounty on his head, Dog willing

        The Festival Priojects Inclement Infinite

        Is coming up next, on Legends

        Come on Jim,

        KEEP UP.

        Nobody can know about this, okay?

        Wait, where's Kimmel

        Okay,

        I got O'Brien—

        Black Irish Bastard…

        Alright, Alec Baldwin is a little tied up, right now, but

        LEMON,

        Fuck.

        That's l—future me.

        What?!

        I gotta go, okay?!

        What? Go where.

        Let's get DRUNK.

        No, That's—I got a show tonight

        What?!




        Look at my lexicon.

        Your—what,

        Meet me on Lexington.

        Oh, this pussy is finished!

        I got it, I got it! He's

        LENNONNNNN!!

        JOHN LENNON

        Fuck. Look, I gotta go.

        John Lennon?!

        You're dead!

        Funny, I thought not.

        Watch this.

        MOOOOOOOOOOOM.

        Fuck,

        What,

        It's my kid. I gotta go.

        Wait, you have kids?!

        Well, I just had you, didn't I?



        “The mayor” is a secret underground rap star

        lol

        #trappin

        Okay,

        What's else happened

        Idk hold on



        Okay,

        So whats the sauce on this sandwich.

        Oh.

        Jeez, this again.

        That *sandwhich?

        Hah.

        There's no sauce on that sandwhich.

        —there's not!?

        No:

        You see.

        It's very simple.

        WAKE UP, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR.

        we gotta take the train.

        The train?!

        NO.

        NOTTHETRAIN.

        NO.

        Man, fuck the train!

        [SUNNI BLŪ wakes up on the train.]

        What's this, the train?

        [is the train]

        (Angrily, tossing newspaper)

        Man, FUCK the train!

        Other hobo:

        Aww, thanks, I need that for my—

        [s/he snatches back the paper].

        Wait! I need that back—what day is it?

        [drunkenly illegible gibberish turns into perfect Hebrew]

        GODDAMMIT, it's Shabbat;

        I gotta get to Temple.

        [s/he shoves the newspaper back into the hobo's lap]

        Here.

        Oh no, I thought I couldn't forget

        RABI

        FUCK

        _]€_#

        WHAT WAS IT

        GODDAMIT IT WAS SO CLEVER.

        God

        So it was…

        What did you do with it?

        Do with what

        My idea

        what idea

        My—my rabbi joke—

        What rabbi joke

        you know what rabbi joke! You were the one who gave it to me.

        Oh, did I?

        YES, SATAN, JESUS.

        GOD

        Ohh, Satan-Jesus. I like that one.

        NO— it was—

        It was much better than that, it was—

        It was funny.

        Oh, it was?

        YES.

        —did you write it down?

        Fuck,

        I realize I just opened a

        A FUCK PORTAL.

        OHH, GET IN IT,

        GET INSIDE.

        I had an Artemis in my pocket

        But I lost him

        Walked away from the cornermarker

        And the cornerstone, for the sunset

        I wonder if songs always come

        When I'm walking,

        Or

        God makes us promises,

        For world of

        I'm not JB, I'm KG,

        Can you see me now?

        If you could see what I see,

        We'd be even

        wtf did I just write this

        And not realize I just wrote this

        Yeah.

        That shit happens to me all the time.

        WHAT.

        ALL THE TKMEx

        Shut up,

        THE ANDRE3K CHARADES GAME is getting intense.

        What in the FUCK is that.

        *flutes*

        Ohh.

        And

        KITES.

        yyyyyYYYYYYYAAAAAHHH——

        GODDAMMIT.

        I can't see really, I just dream

        I'm not thinking, I'm dancing

        This is what you asked for

        Exactly what you asked for

        For once,

        I'm finally glad I have your eyes on

        My friend

        I can see you all on the horizon,

        Singing

        NO, NO MORE MUSICALS!!

        Jimmy, what did you do?!

        I don't know what I did!

        You lyin bastard.

        I'm not lying!

        So, where ya from?

        —I don't know where I'm from.

        Listen, I'm gonna need you

        SHUT UP,

        JUST SHUT UP.

        It seems like these scenes are getting shorter.

        I'm bored with this.

        Ok.

        Let's do something else.

        I fuckin hate you. I hate you.

        I fuckin hate you.

        88.

        Oh no:

        8

        Wait, what the—

        *dolphin*

        WOAH, okay:

        Oh, no.

        No,

        No, no

        OHNONO.

        I told you I'd find him.

        Anyway.

        Seems like there's something more important I should be doing.

        Are you sure this is the right place.

        Right place. Right time.

        Fuck— FUCK.

        What, what happened.

        I lost my—

        SKRILLEX!

        No.

        SKRILLEX.

        NO, NO—

        SKR—

        I swear to God, Google knows everything.

        Google don't know shit about SHIT.

        I gotta lose m 39 lbs.

        For what.

        MADONNA

        DO IT FOR THE BANANAS.

        I hate— you.

        COME ON, MISTER.

        Fuck off, Madonna,

        I'M A GOD.

        I miss Beyoncé.

        That's not relevant.

        Beyoncé is relevant to everything.

        *smacks*

        QUIT FANGIRLING.

        Trust me, I hate you.

        I don't trust you, but I believe you.

        I got it.

        I hate this place.

        Holy shit.

        What.

        I developed a new phobia.

        What's that mean?!

        I don't know, I can probably use it in a fight or something.

        For what.

        SPECIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED.

        I see you looking over my shoulder

        I see the shadows, I try not to jump at em.

        I spent six months in a coffin, you know

        I spent my life a sarcophagus

        (Wow, I got it right.)

        Try not to mutter those haunts in a hospital

        Try to recover from trauma

        Uncovered post traumatics,

        Anxiety attacks and a lot of those—

        What do you call them?

        A flashback.

        Here goes one:

        SONNY MOORE aka SKRILLEX appears.

        I told you not to—

        But I did!

        I didn't mean to!

        But you did!

        This is ludachris!

        Oh look, it's—

        Fuck.

        God dammit.

        Come on! What's his name!? What's his name?!

        I'll think abo it it.

        Are you serious? Another shapeshifter?

        Yes,

        I guess welll just have to kill them all, then.

        I just want to go home.

        You don't have one.

        …oh.

        So here we have.

        Okay, wait a second.

        I wasn't faking my symptoms at all, actually.

        My heart had dropped, and been pounding and fluttering insessantly—

        It had been a hard week, but especially the last three days;

        The coughing—.

        Everyone seemed to be wearing clothing with stars or bears on it,

        Champion sportswear.

        I fucking hate champion sportswear.

        But the palpitations were real as ever— and now—

        On a Saturday night in the Jamaica, Queens medical center emergency room,

        There they were again.

        Only this time I knew exactly why.

        ‘Too Bizzare' by Skrillex begins to play, via Complications 003- The Trauma Method.

        Irony.

        It was ironic, but still startling,

        Started with some nostalgic traumas,

        Every other time I saw an ER doctor

        (Why I don't go)

        Fuck, I just realized I have to airdrop myself 880 times.

        That fucking sucks.

        Did you say you were a doctor?

        I was, once.

        When is “once”

        At some point.

        Listen, I'm gonna need you to backtrack to get to the bottom of this.

        I'm innocent, I promise!

        We caught you at 27 different angles doing this.

        Oh.

        [beat]

        I plead the 5th.

        Ohh. Cerulean. My favorite.

        c R A Y On

        Oh, I get it,

        I L L U M I N A T U S.

        Nice, it worked.

        I know everything about you.

        So you do.

        [beat]

        You're a God.

        What the fuck do you want from me.

        Listen. I. Am not. A God,

        Right. That's exactly what a God would say.

        No they wouldn't! Because a God wouldn't say anything!

        AHA.

        Don't ‘AHA' ME.

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter— to me

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        Might as well not think about it

        The space between us

        Might as well just stay awake then

        No sense in leaving

        Just to come back

        It don't matter to me, now

        Now and again

        I go crazy just making arrangements,

        But besides that,

        If you like it, you should have it

        It's a long road,

        As Kaskade says,

        And a short dance,

        With the right one

        And time goes by

        I would call it mild,

        But actually I'm in a wild panic

        It might be a heart attack

        I just might even

        Die right here

        But I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        I don't mind—at all

        It don't matter to me, I said

        I don't mind, at all, now

        It really don't matter to me

        I said,

        I don't mind, at all

        It really don't matter to anyone

        Now does it

        (Not it doesn')

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter— to me

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        Might as well not think about it

        The space between us

        Might as well just stay awake then

        No sense in leaving

        Just to come back

        Palpitations and precipitations at the pulpit

        Preacher, please don't make me a culprit

        I been prayin—

        I been paying my tithes,

        10% Even,

        Now 25,

        Almost half of me is not mine!

        Why try?

        I've been walking out, in straight lines

        I been crying silently

        It ain't right

        I been making most of my nights

        Sometimes

        I see sun come up twice

        Up, down up

        10 degrees,

        It ain't right

        Up down up

        33, it ain't right

        Up, down, up

        I've been spending my time

        Down, up, down

        Riding round,

        Trying not to down in my mind

        Up, down up

        What is this.

        It's my project.

        What is it?

        The Festival Project.

        Yeah but—what—

        What.

        Is it?

        …it's my project.

        *painfully infuriated*

        Okay, enter here.

        EXAM ROOM 10

        Why exam room 10?

        Because.

        Where are the other nine?

        Just—get in.

        I'm not going in there!

        JUST GET IN.

        UGH.

        DEADMAU5 (head and all) stands at a tall podium in the center of the room)

        What is this,

        This is deadmau5.

        I know that.

        —-!!!

        —?!?

        What.

        !!!

        What? This is the exam?

        Yes!

        NO.

        What is “no”.

        I'm not playing for deadmau5.

        That's the exam.

        Then I fail!

        Automatic Fail?

        yes. Automatic fail.

        Then you win.

        What.

        *slams gavel*

        Congratulations—you're the next superstar DJ.



        WhY.

        .

        What.

        Woohoo! I just retired!

        DEADMAU5 exits.

        …

        …

        After a few moments of comic tension, the Deadmau5 head rolls back in through the exit which he has taken.

        Ugh.

        Fuck this.

        No matter what you do, you're a superstar DJ.

        What. No!

        Yes. The answer is yes.

        NO.

        Fuck.

        What the FUCK.

        No matter what you do.

        You want to go,

        Go, you want to die,

        Die, you want to try, try

        You want to cry, cry

        Do what you want;

        As so will I,

        Demand is demand—

        Supply is supply.

        EDX

        So then, I followed this long hallway under the stage deck.

        Uh huh.

        And it led to a door—

        Uhhuh, where'd the door lead?

        To a portal.

        Woah. Pasqualle!

        You made it!

        I—yes.

        Congratulations!

        *blows party horn*

        *Daisies/ confetti*

        You're like 25!

        I'll be 25 forever.

        Nice!

        Yeah.

        I guess that's why it's called ‘music'—a musician without muses is just useless.

        ‘Well, whose next?' I wondered. All of my muses were not just so wonderful to me, but adored by many—and perhaps this is what allured me most—befuddled ans confounded me; once my mind was set on something, there was nothing else its eye could see—and for how long one God could only know, how deep the love would go and that the blood would run deep, and the scars to show for it, only upon my heart and never by soul—for a love was a love, and even once came and gone, to the end of my life I knew I would still ponder upon them, at one time or another, my muses—star studded lovers, rather than crossed, shiny and golden like all diamond and trophies so treasured and thought of as precious.

        ‘Yes, you are—precious.'

        Another tongue in cheek thought, for the other that I was, and also was not, as summer drew onward as short as it would come and go—a reminder to leave the apartment more often, and to mind my manners, to find the upper echelon wherever it was and come quietly into its doors, to open my world and wordform of thought, into a place where my heart always was; then, and only then, would I be home. Amongst the men and women of the uppercut and classy, luxurious big fishing ponds and flocks of doves upon olive branches—the peaceful world long parted from where mine was, by only the fault of my own. What had been done just certainly was, and yet, what was to come was an open poem, not of mine, but Godform in thought.

        ‘I wonder what's at the top of Rockefeller Plaza.'

        —perhaps, a gander at the bottom of an even larger entertainment complex.

        Then, again, only God would know what was beyond all that I wanted; a job—and not just any job at all— the one that I had always wanted.

        Mmm. Birthday cake.

        Suddenly the taste of a white confetti crème filled my mouth with a delicious remnince of what it might be like to taste a confectionary sugar again—but i couldn't imagine ever making it just on talent and charisma alone—no. Indeed, it seemed something had damaged my charm, and perhaps it was just the swarms and droves of phone controlled masses that saw me as nothing more than dust, I had started to surrender my desire to perform, and the quality of my music—along with my ability to make it, suffered with the awful thing that had been crowding my soul at all—whatever it was, evil and dark in nature, sure saw to it that it wanted to hurt me in all the ways that it could—and in all the ways it could not, I stayed away from most others, favoring my delusions of love.

        ‘Nobody seems to understand that the pain they cause will only harm themselves.', I thought

        Younger souls, however, they were—and they would be kept in the pain that I was in one way or another until eventual death, far behind me on the infinite road to the source. Far enough behind, that it seeked to destroy my progress, and for all that it could, it also couldn't.

        The infliction of pain would simply not act as a measure for control any longer.

        Off into my own world, where I was at least free from the thoughts and judgement of others.

        She's the most beautiful girl,

        And I'm the most beautiful boy;

        So naturally, we belong together, don't we?

        I see a pretty picture,

        Picket fences and a family

        Golden Retrievers

        Someone relieve her;

        She doesn't believe me

        TV dreams and exquisite pretty people

        Burning candles, fire flames and

        frequent figures,

        Guest characters and cameos,

        Repeat offenders, multiple appearances

        Suddenly, really, it's another need

        People, people pleasers

        Audience affection,

        Tragic endings,

        Butterflies and new beginnings



        Gun under my tongue,

        Rubber like a frog

        My mind is in a fog

        Haven't bothered going on a walk

        To Trader Joe's but

        The anthem of my youth,

        A lost soul

        Another form of my love

        So what I wonder

        Put the gun up under my chin

        Rubber like a frog

        Blow my head off

        Just cause I didn't blow up

        Selfish cunt

        Big brother,

        Another hypnotist

        Little brother,

        Gotta love him

        Gotta love em

        For the Love of God

        I could stop for a moment

        Wash my mind out with soap

        Like I'm ten years younger, even

        Seriously

        20 years between us,

        You can't even hide underwater

        In a bathtub

        Seriously,

        Someone help us

        For the love of God, for the love of

        Hollywood

        Seriously,

        Someone love us,

        For the love of God,

        For the love of Rockefeller Plaza

        Someone help us

        Another possible walk of stars

        A little shop of horrors

        Another whole story

        I get rid of my demons

        The hoes screamin

        I put semen in her

        Permanent like semen,

        Just keep dreamin

        I'mma just keep preaching

        SaMo, Brooklyn

        Europe Next

        I keep scheming

        Whoever you are;

        If you're a wreck—

        You need a check

        No respect, neglect

        Just cover your neck

        (I'm blind to my own design, sometimes)

        That's what the eye is

        Try this:

        Close your eyes and say thrice, kids

        I am the God of the eye,

        Osiris

        I am the God of the Eye,

        I'm Osiris

        I am the God,

        I walk amongst the highest

        Thoth,

        You lost

        Better just die and keep trying

        I am the God of the eye, I am

        (Try this)

        I am the God of the eye

        (I never die)

        I am the God of the eye

        (That's right, three times)

        I am the God of the eye

        No black and white television,

        In my dimension we pay attention to centrifugal,

        The mission isn't in materialism,

        Whatever youre spending

        If money the God, l of your eye,

        Realize, I am higher

        My gunfire,

        Is right on the back of

        The one dollar

        I am the God of the eye

        I Am

        Your money is nothin to us

        We come in peace,

        To end suffering



        Pretty little nigga

        Look just like Kendrick

        Kickin it with jigga

        I'm the new higs boson

        Part of me never left Boston

        (Fuck Starr!)

        Part of me never left homeless

        This ain't my home

        It's my office

        You never heard this song

        You don't notice

        I'm an ugly kid, you don't notice me

        Rooftop smells like soy sauce

        On god

        I am ugly

        You don't notice

        -Atari the God

        Can we get back to this, please?

        Damn. She really whooped her ass, though.

        Janet, can I borrow you for a second?

        No.

        Please.

        [Whoopi Goldberg appears in the doorway, gesturing “c'mon”]



        …alright.

        I got convictions on my lips,

        I took a picture

        Turn the page

        The worst of all was, it really did seem like they were racists—

        INSOMNIAC EVENTS

        Not just racists— the most deadly kind of racists.

        WHITE SUPREMACISTS

        You really want it this way, don't you?

        No!

        I LOVE you!

        Oh, do you?

        If there's a mile in here, I swear to god..

        Are you high enough yet?

        I thought so

        HIGHER!

        hire star*

        What.

        Just do it.

        You remember these guys, right?

        GOOD CANNABIS, FAIRBANKS, ALASKA

        No.

        Why are we back here.

        Alright, we might have fucked up.

        Why.

        This guy sucks.

        HEY.

        What.

        COME BACK TO ALASKA

        never that.

        WHAT, WHY NOT!

        GOD HATES FAGS!!!

        Well, you're wrong!

        WHITE POWER.

        Nah.

        ALL LIVES MATTER

        O rly? Even this guy?

        Literally every “NO”

        …so, “all lives.”

        Look, I don't care what color it is; I want that book in my library.

        GO TO THE LIVRARY.

        NO.

        GET IN HERE.

        NO AUBREY. STAY DEAD.

        She's dead, right?

        YOU CALLED ME HERE.

        I didn't!

        You Did.

        I did not, all i said was

        *swoons*

        …I love her.



        (I really do)

        WHAT?! “I Love you?!”

        It was more the *swoon* that did it.

        Disconnect.

        Fuck, I lost deadmau5 again

        What'd you do to him?

        Nothing!

        Put him back!

        He's still there! He's right there, you see him?

        No! This isn't deadmau5. We want deadmau5. bring him BACK.

        Fuck, I fucked up.

        What'd you do?

        …nothing?

        Pick up the phone

        Pick up the phone

        …hello?

        Who IS this?

        Fuck it, I quit.

        Man, God never puts my dishes back in the right place, like ever.

        I told you, I don't live here, I'm just…

        Babysitting.

        CC!

        What!

        CC!

        What?

        CC

        WHAT.




        Fuck, man.

        That was wild.

        Where the fuck have you been?

        I don't know.

        You don't know—you smell funny.

        “Funny” is that what that smell is?

        No.

        When were you?

        When? Ha.

        Did you—-

        Did I what?

        —did you go to a party without me?

        Lmfao fuck these niggaz.

        Why, what happened.

        What's this.

        Where was it?!

        Idlewild.

        “IdLeWiLd”?!?!?

        You. Old. One here and die, you know, l.

        It's cattle call for curtain calls guy

        Where did this go—

        What was this, once?

        It's the return

        Welcome to Oz

        This is the Tower of Babel

        Remember;

        I wrote that

        Better than the bottom,

        Still not the top

        —it's not as fast, when it's not going all the way up

        Did you jump yet

        Come around more

        Keep coughing

        Are you sure this is where it was or—?

        Somewhere else I stayed

        Back when I was homeless

        It's hopeless!

        We lost her

        Antenna, antenna

        SUPERMARKET

        I loved her

        —she was undercover

        —I'm still in your stirrups

        I'm lost in New York, then

        BACKFIRE

        Adele remix is on [have a seat]

        Can I go now?

        I still need a hat, a half dollar

        and an alter cloth

        You could win an award for this;

        I don't want an award,

        I just want my son back

        Motherhood, motherhood

        Brotherhood, brotherhood

        This isn't one of us!

        No one was

        No one was

        Can I go now?

        Where to?

        Home!

        Nope, that's just the office,

        I'm still homeless, unless I

        They got cabanas on top of offices!

        (The rich and the famous)

        Networking and brunches—

        _this looks fun, doesn't it?

        I altered the course of history

        In brief exchanges and

        Various social atrocities

        This is hypocrisy! lol rly

        This is hypocrisy!!

        Hyper awareness and, psychic inclinations…

        You realize the more low quality people you let in

        The more low quality this country becomes, don't you?

        I put a roll in the back of the chosen ones.

        Used to be cast more,

        Now something seldom ever happens

        Such as this—

        A fun Fortune 500

        What does that even mean

        Forbes.

        Look it up.

        What if the policy is

        Foreign;

        Look it up.

        I know enough about the girl next door to know

        Something is horrible,

        Something inside of her

        Rots at the core,

        Her obsession;

        My undeservedness of such,

        What she must,

        I mustn't, just

        Unjustice

        Broski, okay

        I got to discard

        All the pichardo

        Besides just this one

        (I'm standing on top of you)

        Put somebody worthy on the fourth floor

        Worse off,

        I was done for

        Before

        I got to New York

        What's her for?!

        I know enough about the man upstairs to know

        All these glares and

        “How dare you's” and

        Hatred says

        Why would you wait 30 years

        Until today, I guess

        Something is certainly off about her.

        I said yes.

        It was more probably something like

        “SUCK MY DICK”

        What.

        “YOU HEARD ME”

        Oh yes, I did.

        From 1990 to 1993

        From 1990

        To 1993

        From 1990

        To 1993

        Stop breeding these things,

        “Love is familiarity”

        No

        Love is what you make it

        But you can't

        Because of slavery

        They don't make music

        —they don't make love either

        Well, look where your lust took you!

        Nowhere!

        Exactly!

        Look where your love took you:

        Vegas,

        Los Angeles,

        South of the Border

        Above it

        a New Yorker—

        Under budget,

        Celibate and

        My arms are too short to jump the turnstyle,

        Meanwhile

        My ex husband left permanent scars on

        My face

        My lips

        My arms

        My hands

        And my heart.

        Did you bite him?

        Of course I bit him, he was strangling me.

        You definitely won this fight.

        I know.

        Look, if I don't call for security,

        This bitch is gonna make me kill her.

        OCTOPUSSY

        NO.

        What.

        NO.

        Stankass.

        I will KILL this bitch.

        Look, I gotta get ahead in this.

        I need a WIN.

        These are customs.

        Trash.

        Wash your pussy.

        Send her back.

        Nah, you know what.

        Remove that hex.

        Wait, what, really?!

        Yeah, like;

        Reverse it.

        Woah.

        That's crazy.

        They got like….white slaves now.

        That's not right.

        What do you mean.

        That's not it.

        You said “reverse it”

        This is what the white supremacy just did to everyone else:

        [world in crisis except for for people who look like Kayla Lauren, to whom EVERYTHING is a fucking crisis, that isn't]

        BECKY/KAREN/WICKED WITCH OF WHITE AMERICA

        I AM OFFENDED

        I'm offended that you signed your like 12 year old daughter up to pose nearly nude, but—

        Hey look, it's us now; is this freedom?!

        Uh….

        Why are all the female models like 12 and all the male models are fully grown men—

        Or women.

        Right.

        Idk.

        Wait, I do.

        You do?!

        Wait. Something tells me all the pedophiles and all the white supremacists are in the same group…

        Run the same businesses—

        Have the same families.

        This is disgusting

        Okay, this is gross

        That's not right !

        That's not my job!

        Oh, it's not!!?

        NO.

        Who should I call

        That guy.

        So you want this?

        Oh, it's a death curse?!

        It will NEVER end.

        Wanna bet.

        I'll kill you and take the whole world with me.

        Now that's a threat.

        Thing is, I'm actually making it.

        I'm telling on you!

        Ok. Wait 30 years though so you look and sound REALLY fucking stupid.

        Ok.

        30 YEARS.

        Doesn't make sense.

        What's the statute of limitations for—

        Hm.

        Depends.

        Depends on what.

        Who are you?!

        WHO ARE YOU?!

        NOBODY YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT.

        THEN WHY DO I?

        wtf is this?

        This is Texas being petty.

        Ok, fuck ya‘lol

        YAW.

        I'm serious, wtf is wrong with you.

        Something.

        What.

        Fix me.

        Fix you. Hm. Ok.

        *COUGHING*

        Somethings wrong here.

        Yep, it's definitely some kind of

        FIX IT.

        Where's this ROCK?

        At the ROCK.

        Like, where tho?!

        Ur gonna need this.

        What.

        They r crucifying u.

        Noted.

        Hunts Point Food Distribution Center

        Lmfao I need this word hold on

        “eliminating redundancies, setting strict timelines, and allowing cases to proceed contemporaneously”

        [ Finally, recognizing the danger that social media poses to young people and mental health, New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene Commissioner Dr. Ashwin Vasan today issued a Health Commissioner's Advisory identifying unfettered access to and use of social media as a public health hazard, just as past U.S. surgeons general have done with tobacco and firearms.]

        A win.

        I don't play dead.

        What do you call this:

        DIE! DIE, BITCH!

        Corrections.

        I still don't understand how this—

        ACID

        HAPPENS.

        Out of sight

        Out of mind

        So why these guys

        Tryna waste my time

        Tryna fuck with my mind with

        All these lights

        OH MY GOD

        I ain't got time for that

        Well,

        Maybe I do—

        I just

        Don't like

        NIGGAZ LIKE YOU.

        (Say what)

        I don't like

        Niggaz like U!

        I'm Sunnï Blū!

        You're stupid

        Oh, so he put a curse on sunni blu, too?

        Ok. Cool.

        When all my aliases come up

        This dumb motherfucking drunk

        Is gonna get stuck

        In his own woods

        He'll bury himself

        In the words that he left

        With the scars

        In the words that he left

        With the scars

        Sunni blu

        Is the sayer of stars

        I slaughtered them all

        Swallowed them whole

        Like a big black hole

        I'm a big black god

        I'm a big black God

        Fuck

        Twinkle that broad

        One punch girl

        One punch girl

        5 punch faggot

        I'll unwrap flags on your

        Goddamn

        Fuck that

        Put a curse on my alter ego

        Lucky he's a he, tho

        I blow holes in em

        I blow smoke

        And love sausage

        I'm a hedon

        And he not a

        Hero

        He broke

        He lost

        I'm open

        Shirts vs skins

        I got 666

        Curses to show you

        What your words did

        IM RA

        I'm a big black God

        You're at home with the young apostle

        Let's be honest

        He never even liked his father

        So turned him to a mother,

        Told his mother to ‘run far,

        And bring back

        The life that I want'

        I'm a big black God

        In light skinned clothing

        You don't know to explode

        Or explode on me

        Cause my mommy's a

        Dark skinned icon

        That my God

        Find something to pass the time,

        God

        Sunni with I, huh

        I won

        Fuck a pedophile wifebeater

        Bury him in the woods with his fury

        Fear me, now

        I'm coming up with reverse curses

        And cures

        Cause my words

        Bought the whole world

        Buried you in the woods

        I'll bury you in the woods,

        Bitch

        Very good

        I'm a big black

        God

        -Blū.



        GOD is the GOAT

        I just became god

        I do what I want

        I get what I want when I want it

        I don't want no problems

        Me myself and God only



        I buy everything I used to steal

        These tears in my heart say I'm healing

        What's the difference, anyway?

        I've never been fit for your interests, or industry

        Add insult to injury

        Add everything to my Amazon cart, then

        My sympathies

        Nothing is greater in heaven

        As it is in hell, for this industry

        Turned on its head

        And turned over from

        7 to ten

        Check your messages, then

        Shut up kid, this doesn't involve you

        You're not included in the package

        Michael c hall and John c Riley reprise Mr. Cellophane in the style of DEXTER MORGAN.

        HA.

        Classic.

        GOT EM.

        V.O.

        I met her at The Jumping Point

        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        {Coming Up…}



        INT. THE JUMPING POINT POINT POP-UP NIGHTCLUB LOUNGE & BAR. NIGHT



        “A Long Day's Night”

        /

        “A Hard Day's Night”

        16 min
      3. Masters of Rap Tapes, Part II: PERCEPTION. (Freestyle)

        What the FUCK did you DO?

        What did I do?!

        You know what you did!

        I didn't do anything!

        Oh yeah?

        No! Not on purpose!

        GODDAMMIT, YOU SON OF A—

        Where's Jimmy Fallon?!

        What?! I don't know!

        Oh no.

        Oh shit, run.

        Oh no.

        What in the FUCK—

        I am “the fuck”

        You know what.

        I'm gonna sue the everliving shit out of you.

        For WHAT.

        We'll see.

        Fuck.

        Uh oh.

        FUCK.

        What now?

        What this time?

        Apparently, Jimmy Fallon is missing.

        What the fuck does that got to do with me.

        We'll see.




        Okay, great,

        Now finish that chapter.

        What fucking chapter?!

        All of it.

        That's—a lot.

        I want all of it. By my desk, by noon tomorrow.

        “By” your desk?!

        Yes, BY. Not ON. I've got too much stuff on my desk—

        …but it's…like 9 o clock.

        Should be easy, given your natural talents.

        What natural talents.

        PEACOCK.

        AHAHAHAHA.

        Okay. Well.

        Well what.

        This sucks. I lost all my coins.

        Hey.

        Ugh.

        You dropped this.

        So how was Los Angeles.

        What the fuck. You fucking DICK.

        I told you, I own shares in this.

        So what's the plan for this, exactly.

        I dunno, Harry.

        I got a book of stamps,

        And a yellow envelope marked

        “Jimmy Fallon”

        I will hate you forever.

        Well, that's retarded.

        I haven't even smited you yet.

        I will annihilate you, human.

        WHERE'S MY SHIT.

        Who the fuck are you, anyway?

        Nobody!

        No one.

        No one cares about this series, yo.

        I'l seriously doubt that, Jesse Pinkman.

        What is this stuff.

        It's your stuff.

        This is not what I ordered—

        Hey—

        Why is it BLUE

        Cause it is.

        So.

        WHY IN THE—

        Mischief managed.

        Alright. This should be good for the night, but we gotta get out of here by morning;

        I thought your parents owned this place.

        It's a time share!

        So?

        So it's like only —part of the time.

        That is stupid.

        No! You're stupid! You're the one who got us into this mess.

        It's your mess, I was just cleaning it up!

        Whatever! Stop trippin.

        Nobody's “tripping.”

        That's it. I'll be a stripper.

        Straight outta hell, that kid.

        Don't I know it.

        Alright, fine.

        I said, whatever you do—

        DONT watch this show.

        Stuff it, J. Slatts. I'll kill you with my eyeballs

        Sounds like a threat.

        Put on a lawsuit, then.

        Maybe I oughtta…

        —with a bow tie.

        You'll look so pretty.

        I thought I was already pretty.

        Uh huh.

        Yeah, look, so honestly

        I don't know if I'll ever be on the same vibration as like,

        Jimmy Fallon and them, ok?

        I don't know how I did it;

        I don't know what did it,

        It just happened and then—

        And then WHAT.

        It just—ended.

        Just like that.

        I'm not trying to offend anybody here.

        Just like that.



        Now, I ask:

        What are we going to do to sell you this dream?

        Doesnt matter what you do, I'll never believe it.

        Sure, fine; Don't believe it—

        We're gonna make you live it.

        Who the hell us “we” anyway?

        Now you're speaking in my cadence—

        Don't flatter yourself

        I like it.

        Too late, I guess.

        So, you see

        We're building

        Power triangles

        And

        love squares

        Power triangles

        And love squares

        Don't let it scare you,

        There's love there

        Don't let it scare you,

        There's love there

        Never fear where love has dared

        To call you up there

        Corrupt file—no fair.

        Don't be suprised even the odds seem to turn in your favor,

        I promise you;

        Nobody's ever ready

        For what has just happened here.

        WAKE UP, FUCKER.

        Ugh, I can't go through this again.

        So, I guess I'll have to erase,

        Or just secretly publish

        Everything I've ever written

        About my actual experience as a color,

        Just so that I can earn money

        As anything other than

        A slave—

        A maid,

        A housekeeper,

        A dog walker

        Or servitor

        So far under her,

        That I can't see far enough up to just

        Scratch the surface

        Her birthright:

        The entire network

        And mine,

        To sit under her,

        Wondering what the world would be like

        At the other end of the spectrum

        The word form of the

        White woman

        The wicked witch of all directions,

        In which I stand in;

        I'm at her mercy

        I've been abandoned before

        But this disservice, is, I'm afraid

        The best advice I can take is just

        To go straight to the bank with my angst and my hatred

        And shove it

        So here comes the nameless

        Face I love,

        Yet,

        The faceless God,

        Was

        Intoxicated, at best—

        Manipulation of the Mass Media

        I'm so

        Seriously jaded

        In this torture chamber

        In my corner office

        In this hall of racists,

        I claim, but if all is

        One in the same

        Then

        It's one in the same

        And

        I'm mainstream

        I'm famous

        If it's

        One in the same

        Then

        It's one in the same

        If it's

        One in the same

        Then I'm mainstream

        I'm so famous

        In a whole room full of humans

        I'm groomed to be useful for something,

        But what?

        It just hasn't come yet.

        I could sit down with a paper and pen,

        But I'm filling up all of my documents

        With hollandaise and God

        For what?

        It's just another song, or something

        Or something.

        It's just another —

        Goddamnit it, more coughs again.

        I told you not to watch this.

        Why do I taste pancakes?

        Maybe you're having a stroke again.

        Chyeah, a stroke of genius.

        I'll show you a stroke.

        Or don't.

        Well, there goes the captain.

        where is that scene, anyway?

        I don't know, I just wrote it.

        Great, she left the door open.

        She's got no furniture!

        It's a “dance floor”

        It's “the black box” she called it “the black box”

        Goddamn, do you listen to all her stuff?

        “Fear stimulates my imagination”

        Pilot

        ASOT

        Fuck man,

        What is a woman to a man,

        And an androgynous genius to

        The industry, or anyone at all

        If all are foes ans frauds

        All else is toxic!

        I woke up with one hand tucked behind my back

        Feeling dead drunk,

        I just woke up again

        But never fell asleep

        What world am I in?

        The end of the

        Dream sequence

        The end of the energy keeping me between three things:

        My past,

        My future

        And these prequels,

        Sequels

        And seeing arrangements

        And

        She's going crazy

        But nobody quite understands

        That these demons are chasing me saying

        “You deserved those hands in your face”

        The scratches on Kayla's back should have had me but

        I was too fat

        To find love again

        And still have something

        Wonderfully, undone

        And wrong with me

        Wrong with me enough to

        slam poetry

        So I'm guessing the white women I love beyond words and bounds are—

        In charge of whatever happens

        At the top of the rock;

        So I jumped off.

        I want to see someone suffer for all that I've done;

        No, that's dark, and karmic, you know—

        To go on like that;

        The confusions and refusal to accept that

        The album is called ChaosMagick,

        But the cover is more

        Urgent,

        A prose or a pawn of protection

        Against all the coughs

        And the reckless mismanagement

        The hands in my head

        And the eye on my scar

        And the lies on my heart

        So tell me,

        What happens

        When you're flying a kite with your heart,

        And it's broken?

        What happens to the kite ,

        When you fly it with your heart

        And your art up in bundles—

        heartbroken, heartbroken

        So what come of Miss May,

        Come January?

        What come of Miss April

        By Next December

        what comes of the words I was saying

        For no one

        But everyone heard them

        And I've been gone

        Much longer than months,

        But still stocked up on all that I've wanted

        Or all that I got

        Or just, all that I love

        But got no undercovera to acknowledge no more

        How right I was

        Or how wrong I am

        What come of Miss June, when Miss January comes around?

        what come now, around August,

        Whe March is long forgotten?

        What comes of the drugs,

        Of the come ups, and come downs

        What comes of the process

        When nothing is served

        But the surf has come up

        Somewhere

        And I just can't love enough

        To go there

        I want to go to there

        I want to be that girl

        I want to sit at the top of the rock

        Writing songs, and sipping mock cocktails

        I want to



        Don't you know

        I just want to get back to

        Where I belong

        I'm so out of money and love

        That I want to be

        Under the train,

        When it's coming

        (Sometimes it's just the impulse that says

        “GO”

        Then the train starts to slow

        And my pain bubbles up into a numb,

        Dumb, crumbling cluster of poetry

        You know?

        Or you don't

        Cause you're all just on your phones

        Scrolling

        Some black man stands over me,

        Reminding me of why I never trust the ones

        Who want me most,

        Or just assume,

        By color code,

        That I belong to them

        I'm sorry,

        I just can't write with your arms around my neck like this

        Your heart around my arms like this

        It's so wholesome

        I had other verses but forgot them

        They took away my movies for the curses

        And the hexes

        That they put on me

        I said don't.

        And the king said

        “Heads will roll”

        Cause, you know;

        I've got parts for all of them now,

        The ones I'd forgotten

        But come from the catacombs,

        Back from the conduit

        You know,

        This is awful

        I had another one,

        But lost it.

        The king?!

        Which one.

        Teas I!

        No, it wasn't,

        It was Gían's father,

        From further off

        Should I call John back?

        Which one?

        Turns out, I love all of them—

        Turns out, I've got all of them

        In my college

        I taught them all to be someone

        Becoming of acknowledgement

        With nombres most common

        Juan, in subcultures, but

        Beyond that

        (Or above them)

        It's John,

        Or just Jonathan,

        Watch the ones who drop the consanant;

        They're always so troublesome,

        But I took them all up

        As understudies,

        Social Studies and some theatrics,

        Joan of Ark said

        Two more moments

        (Two more weeks in)

        I could have a body worthy

        Of a Grammy award, but —

        Would I be a writer then?

        Probably not, hon—

        Writers are

        Off a bit.

        If you were pretty, ever at all— would you have written this?!

        If I were pretty at all would there be reason to be this

        Conflicted?

        Some of those old New York hallways

        Haven't been painted

        In ages

        Since they made them

        Don't make that face at me

        I only dropped my key once

        On the fourth floor

        —they're horrible, you know

        To us,

        The “brothers” know no love

        They are destruction, speaking

        Of this,

        I got a cold heart.

        Cold like the robber

        Cold like the calling I've done in my corner office cold, like the jello mold forming a thought process

        Worthy enough

        I might love it like a husband

        We're re-evaluating your circumstances.

        Whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean.

        I've got friends at USPS

        What the fuck could that even account to.

        Look, I'm gonna have to give this some serious considerations.

        It's not that serious.

        It's not that serious.

        Of course it is!

        I'm up to my knees in investments!

        So?!

        I wade a waiste deep,

        Surely you can get by

        “Up to your knees”

        What exactly do you need?

        Money. And lots of it.

        I mean, from me.

        Money.

        Really?

        Leave me alone.

        I told you not to write this.

        You're a voice in my head;

        No, I'm the hand in your mailbox.

        What in the fuck do you believe in.

        I believe in everything!

        They said you were a genius;

        I didn't expect you to be

        —at the very least, lucid—

        *squints* learn some new vocabulary, okay?

        For what?



        Dinner.

        Maybe.

        We're still in the process of voting.

        She's crazy.

        We'd be crazy not to actually hire her.

        Her accounts are all practically open;

        We could just take it.

        Yeah, and when she kills herself, and there's no blood on our hands—

        There's nothing that can be done about the amount of this stuff that's already printed!

        Printed?!

        What?!

        You mean—

        She's published?

        Self-published.

        My, what a beautiful happenstance

        To have already had you

        And awakened atop mattresses

        Marked for my assassins hand—

        Polite, I lost you

        All of us,

        Atop the rock

        We stood and suffered

        Months beyond a montage,

        Undercover

        Love was lost,

        And all's uncertain

        The interception of God,

        At the cost of

        What terror and cutbacks

        Have caused us all

        What you lost was $50, a Hallmark Card, an Academy award, a long lost star's phone number,

        And all that you wanted,

        The cock of the gun

        Was the sound that you wondered

        What was called

        , then ran off into wonder.

        How am I gonna make money

        And become an award winning songwriter

        Music producer

        And multidisciplinary artist,

        Without all the funding it takes to get noviced

        Without taking clothes off

        Wake up 10 years younger

        I'm suffering

        My stomach was a rubber band

        My stomach was a rubber band

        My only song was Water

        I forgot to stop

        For the applause

        I drowned in all the love; right then and there

        I died of

        Lovenessness

        [The Festival Project]

        The sound and laughter of children play

        A baby in a basket

        The basket case at Trader Joe's

        Who know what happens

        It just doesn't pull my heartstrings any longer

        That my son belongs without his mother

        So I'd better have another

        This is us, come on.

        Don't do this to me.

        Don't do this, Timmy, you'll be sorry.

        Come on! We're not even in that movie!

        We are, though; it's still

        Listen, you've got the right guy for this.

        Are you sure.

        Yeah, I promise.

        Officers,

        Stop for a *movement

        [hot cops flash dance number]

        Fuck, well, that was all wrong.

        But worth it!

        What I meant was—

        God, this show gets good at 31,

        But I'm only 22,

        So I guess I'll know how wrong the war was

        Once we've lost it,

        Cause imm a man now

        The episode is over,

        Soon comes the next episode

        With snoop dogg,

        Or not

        That was our wedding album.

        Scatterbrained, and pregnant—

        There she was just putting all the things together

        That she needed to be

        Needed

        To be needed.

        There she was,

        All on 4/20

        Trying not to do the wrong thing,

        But what was it?

        To be loved.

        Then,

        There she was at 21 just going off again

        At some event—

        A friend, and her

        Back then could not imagine

        They'd become him

        To be someone.

        Not as one,

        But of entirely another

        World apart, aside from

        Cyclones into snow cones

        Turns the watchers into artists

        All their own,

        And off my own accord

        Or own account

        Or done with boredom

        Dove soap

        Open doors

        And clocks that turn the other hand away,

        Each day you love Manhattan

        But can't have that.

        That's it—

        This is just Season 1 of Mad Men

        WHERE THE FUCK IS—

        [she throws her hands above her head in surrender]

        I don't KNOW!

        Oh, you're a girl now?!

        I guess!

        What's with those pants, then?

        To hide the assets!

        What assets?! You look tragic.

        I'm going for ‘skeleton' to match all your wives and everybody else on the red carpet

        Who said you get the red carpet?

        Manhattan.

        That guy lies!

        Well how about this:

        The walk of stars were carved out in blocks of marble

        All in my honor.

        1000/1

        You're our God, now.

        What!

        I don't want to be God!

        SUCK IT UP. YOU WON.

        I don't wanna!

        Yaaaaaaayyy. You got the award!

        All the awards!

        Speech!

        Speech!

        SUNNI BLŪ

        Uh—-

        I'm drunk,

        And there's nothing on the teleprompter

        [a man in the audience coughs]

        A-HEM.

        [Sunni Blū immidiateky shoots the coughing man]

        [multi-camera shots of celebrity audience reactions; laughing, clapping in hilarity as if someone hasn't just died]

        TAYLOR SWIFT

        (unmoved at all)

        SUNNÏ BLŪ

        I don't know why you're laughing.

        That was awful.

        That guy died

        [audience is insane, super fake as usual]

        [more cut takes]

        SUNNÏ BLŪ

        It should have been you, Taylor.

        TAYLOR SWIFT

        (Still unaffected)



        SUNNI BLU

        Anyway. I'd like to thank the academy…

        Cause I am the academy

        [Audience is celebrities being celebrities]

        SUNNI BLU

        You guys are all idiots:

        I'm a go f*ck myself—

        And anyone else who wants to show up

        At my afterparty.

        Whatever.

        Peace.

        [cheesy academy award music plays—Sunnï knocks over the mic, peaces out obnoxiously; the audience cheers wildly and the host returns to the stage.]

        Who's the host?

        Whatever.

        Hey, better than nothin.

        You're telling me.

        yeah.

        I know:

        Oh, she's a comic?

        Yeah.

        I got it.

        BOB SAGET

        Ooh, that's good.

        Ū

        No—no my God.

        No Bob Saget, stop it!

        Wait, Bob Saget is dead right?

        Last I recall:

        Fuck—FUCK!

        Dammit. Dammit, dammit.

        Okay, Rue— you're up.

        Rue, what in the—

        Shhhh, don't let them know I'm in here!

        Oh, wait—

        It's me, Blanche.

        That's hot.

        I'm a debutant.

        My god, you're so young.

        Here, take this,

        What's that,

        You'll need that.

        V.O.

        I'm being hunted by the ghost of Bob Saget.

        *haunted.

        No, hunted!

        There she is! Grab her!

        Ooh, Bob Saget.

        Why, yes.

        How old are you?

        Not dead yet!

        You don't have to kidnap me, I'll happily go with you, sir.

        Really?

        Yes.

        GET IN THE—

        NOH,

        GET IN THE VAN.

        INT. IN THE VAN.

        [a bunch of hot male celebrities are in the van]

        Oh. Okay.

        Wow.

        That was easy.



        What is it, Friday.

        It's Friday and a half.

        Friday.5

        What.

        There's a Friday movie between 1 and 2

        So I guess this is season 8.5

        I guess this is season 8.5

        HEY, GET BACK HERE.

        What is this.

        It's your lunch.

        I don't want this.

        Well, okay.

        What— is this strange music—

        They call it dubstep

        Come on, Jimmy, you're slipping

        Kimmel, cause Fallon is dead or presumed missing

        Probably Skrillex

        Probably a bounty on his head, Dog willing

        The Festival Priojects Inclement Infinite

        Is coming up next, on Legends

        Come on Jim,

        KEEP UP.

        Nobody can know about this, okay?

        Wait, where's Kimmel

        Okay,

        I got O'Brien—

        Black Irish Bastard…

        Alright, Alec Baldwin is a little tied up, right now, but

        LEMON,

        Fuck.

        That's l—future me.

        What?!

        I gotta go, okay?!

        What? Go where.

        Let's get DRUNK.

        No, That's—I got a show tonight

        What?!




        Look at my lexicon.

        Your—what,

        Meet me on Lexington.

        Oh, this pussy is finished!

        I got it, I got it! He's

        LENNONNNNN!!

        JOHN LENNON

        Fuck. Look, I gotta go.

        John Lennon?!

        You're dead!

        Funny, I thought not.

        Watch this.

        MOOOOOOOOOOOM.

        Fuck,

        What,

        It's my kid. I gotta go.

        Wait, you have kids?!

        Well, I just had you, didn't I?



        “The mayor” is a secret underground rap star

        lol

        #trappin

        Okay,

        What's else happened

        Idk hold on



        Okay,

        So whats the sauce on this sandwich.

        Oh.

        Jeez, this again.

        That *sandwhich?

        Hah.

        There's no sauce on that sandwhich.

        —there's not!?

        No:

        You see.

        It's very simple.

        WAKE UP, YOU'RE A ROCKSTAR.

        we gotta take the train.

        The train?!

        NO.

        NOTTHETRAIN.

        NO.

        Man, fuck the train!

        [SUNNI BLŪ wakes up on the train.]

        What's this, the train?

        [is the train]

        (Angrily, tossing newspaper)

        Man, FUCK the train!

        Other hobo:

        Aww, thanks, I need that for my—

        [s/he snatches back the paper].

        Wait! I need that back—what day is it?

        [drunkenly illegible gibberish turns into perfect Hebrew]

        GODDAMMIT, it's Shabbat;

        I gotta get to Temple.

        [s/he shoves the newspaper back into the hobo's lap]

        Here.

        Oh no, I thought I couldn't forget

        RABI

        FUCK

        _]€_#

        WHAT WAS IT

        GODDAMIT IT WAS SO CLEVER.

        God

        So it was…

        What did you do with it?

        Do with what

        My idea

        what idea

        My—my rabbi joke—

        What rabbi joke

        you know what rabbi joke! You were the one who gave it to me.

        Oh, did I?

        YES, SATAN, JESUS.

        GOD

        Ohh, Satan-Jesus. I like that one.

        NO— it was—

        It was much better than that, it was—

        It was funny.

        Oh, it was?

        YES.

        —did you write it down?

        Fuck,

        I realize I just opened a

        A FUCK PORTAL.

        OHH, GET IN IT,

        GET INSIDE.

        I had an Artemis in my pocket

        But I lost him

        Walked away from the cornermarker

        And the cornerstone, for the sunset

        I wonder if songs always come

        When I'm walking,

        Or

        God makes us promises,

        For world of

        I'm not JB, I'm KG,

        Can you see me now?

        If you could see what I see,

        We'd be even

        wtf did I just write this

        And not realize I just wrote this

        Yeah.

        That shit happens to me all the time.

        WHAT.

        ALL THE TKMEx

        Shut up,

        THE ANDRE3K CHARADES GAME is getting intense.

        What in the FUCK is that.

        *flutes*

        Ohh.

        And

        KITES.

        yyyyyYYYYYYYAAAAAHHH——

        GODDAMMIT.

        I can't see really, I just dream

        I'm not thinking, I'm dancing

        This is what you asked for

        Exactly what you asked for

        For once,

        I'm finally glad I have your eyes on

        My friend

        I can see you all on the horizon,

        Singing

        NO, NO MORE MUSICALS!!

        Jimmy, what did you do?!

        I don't know what I did!

        You lyin bastard.

        I'm not lying!

        So, where ya from?

        —I don't know where I'm from.

        Listen, I'm gonna need you

        SHUT UP,

        JUST SHUT UP.

        It seems like these scenes are getting shorter.

        I'm bored with this.

        Ok.

        Let's do something else.

        I fuckin hate you. I hate you.

        I fuckin hate you.

        88.

        Oh no:

        8

        Wait, what the—

        *dolphin*

        WOAH, okay:

        Oh, no.

        No,

        No, no

        OHNONO.

        I told you I'd find him.

        Anyway.

        Seems like there's something more important I should be doing.

        Are you sure this is the right place.

        Right place. Right time.

        Fuck— FUCK.

        What, what happened.

        I lost my—

        SKRILLEX!

        No.

        SKRILLEX.

        NO, NO—

        SKR—

        I swear to God, Google knows everything.

        Google don't know shit about SHIT.

        I gotta lose m 39 lbs.

        For what.

        MADONNA

        DO IT FOR THE BANANAS.

        I hate— you.

        COME ON, MISTER.

        Fuck off, Madonna,

        I'M A GOD.

        I miss Beyoncé.

        That's not relevant.

        Beyoncé is relevant to everything.

        *smacks*

        QUIT FANGIRLING.

        Trust me, I hate you.

        I don't trust you, but I believe you.

        I got it.

        I hate this place.

        Holy shit.

        What.

        I developed a new phobia.

        What's that mean?!

        I don't know, I can probably use it in a fight or something.

        For what.

        SPECIAL ABILITY UNLOCKED.

        I see you looking over my shoulder

        I see the shadows, I try not to jump at em.

        I spent six months in a coffin, you know

        I spent my life a sarcophagus

        (Wow, I got it right.)

        Try not to mutter those haunts in a hospital

        Try to recover from trauma

        Uncovered post traumatics,

        Anxiety attacks and a lot of those—

        What do you call them?

        A flashback.

        Here goes one:

        SONNY MOORE aka SKRILLEX appears.

        I told you not to—

        But I did!

        I didn't mean to!

        But you did!

        This is ludachris!

        Oh look, it's—

        Fuck.

        God dammit.

        Come on! What's his name!? What's his name?!

        I'll think abo it it.

        Are you serious? Another shapeshifter?

        Yes,

        I guess welll just have to kill them all, then.

        I just want to go home.

        You don't have one.

        …oh.

        So here we have.

        Okay, wait a second.

        I wasn't faking my symptoms at all, actually.

        My heart had dropped, and been pounding and fluttering insessantly—

        It had been a hard week, but especially the last three days;

        The coughing—.

        Everyone seemed to be wearing clothing with stars or bears on it,

        Champion sportswear.

        I fucking hate champion sportswear.

        But the palpitations were real as ever— and now—

        On a Saturday night in the Jamaica, Queens medical center emergency room,

        There they were again.

        Only this time I knew exactly why.

        ‘Too Bizzare' by Skrillex begins to play, via Complications 003- The Trauma Method.

        Irony.

        It was ironic, but still startling,

        Started with some nostalgic traumas,

        Every other time I saw an ER doctor

        (Why I don't go)

        Fuck, I just realized I have to airdrop myself 880 times.

        That fucking sucks.

        Did you say you were a doctor?

        I was, once.

        When is “once”

        At some point.

        Listen, I'm gonna need you to backtrack to get to the bottom of this.

        I'm innocent, I promise!

        We caught you at 27 different angles doing this.

        Oh.

        [beat]

        I plead the 5th.

        Ohh. Cerulean. My favorite.

        c R A Y On

        Oh, I get it,

        I L L U M I N A T U S.

        Nice, it worked.

        I know everything about you.

        So you do.

        [beat]

        You're a God.

        What the fuck do you want from me.

        Listen. I. Am not. A God,

        Right. That's exactly what a God would say.

        No they wouldn't! Because a God wouldn't say anything!

        AHA.

        Don't ‘AHA' ME.

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter— to me

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        Might as well not think about it

        The space between us

        Might as well just stay awake then

        No sense in leaving

        Just to come back

        It don't matter to me, now

        Now and again

        I go crazy just making arrangements,

        But besides that,

        If you like it, you should have it

        It's a long road,

        As Kaskade says,

        And a short dance,

        With the right one

        And time goes by

        I would call it mild,

        But actually I'm in a wild panic

        It might be a heart attack

        I just might even

        Die right here

        But I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        I don't mind—at all

        It don't matter to me, I said

        I don't mind, at all, now

        It really don't matter to me

        I said,

        I don't mind, at all

        It really don't matter to anyone

        Now does it

        (Not it doesn')

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter— to me

        I don't mind, at all

        It don't matter—to me

        Might as well not think about it

        The space between us

        Might as well just stay awake then

        No sense in leaving

        Just to come back

        Palpitations and precipitations at the pulpit

        Preacher, please don't make me a culprit

        I been prayin—

        I been paying my tithes,

        10% Even,

        Now 25,

        Almost half of me is not mine!

        Why try?

        I've been walking out, in straight lines

        I been crying silently

        It ain't right

        I been making most of my nights

        Sometimes

        I see sun come up twice

        Up, down up

        10 degrees,

        It ain't right

        Up down up

        33, it ain't right

        Up, down, up

        I've been spending my time

        Down, up, down

        Riding round,

        Trying not to down in my mind

        Up, down up

        What is this.

        It's my project.

        What is it?

        The Festival Project.

        Yeah but—what—

        What.

        Is it?

        …it's my project.

        *painfully infuriated*

        Okay, enter here.

        EXAM ROOM 10

        Why exam room 10?

        Because.

        Where are the other nine?

        Just—get in.

        I'm not going in there!

        JUST GET IN.

        UGH.

        DEADMAU5 (head and all) stands at a tall podium in the center of the room)

        What is this,

        This is deadmau5.

        I know that.

        —-!!!

        —?!?

        What.

        !!!

        What? This is the exam?

        Yes!

        NO.

        What is “no”.

        I'm not playing for deadmau5.

        That's the exam.

        Then I fail!

        Automatic Fail?

        yes. Automatic fail.

        Then you win.

        What.

        *slams gavel*

        Congratulations—you're the next superstar DJ.



        WhY.

        .

        What.

        Woohoo! I just retired!

        DEADMAU5 exits.

        …

        …

        After a few moments of comic tension, the Deadmau5 head rolls back in through the exit which he has taken.

        Ugh.

        Fuck this.

        No matter what you do, you're a superstar DJ.

        What. No!

        Yes. The answer is yes.

        NO.

        Fuck.

        What the FUCK.

        No matter what you do.

        You want to go,

        Go, you want to die,

        Die, you want to try, try

        You want to cry, cry

        Do what you want;

        As so will I,

        Demand is demand—

        Supply is supply.

        EDX

        So then, I followed this long hallway under the stage deck.

        Uh huh.

        And it led to a door—

        Uhhuh, where'd the door lead?

        To a portal.

        Woah. Pasqualle!

        You made it!

        I—yes.

        Congratulations!

        *blows party horn*

        *Daisies/ confetti*

        You're like 25!

        I'll be 25 forever.

        Nice!

        Yeah.

        I guess that's why it's called ‘music'—a musician without muses is just useless.

        ‘Well, whose next?' I wondered. All of my muses were not just so wonderful to me, but adored by many—and perhaps this is what allured me most—beffldled ans confounded me; once my mind was set on somehh th int, there was nothing else its eye could see—and for how long one God could only know, how deep the love would go and that the blood would run deep, and the scars to show for it, only upon my heart and never by soul—for a love was a love, and even once came and gone, to the end of my life I knew I would still ponder upon them, at one time or another, my muses—star studded lovers, rather than crossed, shiny and golden like all diamond and trophies so treasured and thought of as precious.

        ‘Yes, you are—precious.'

        Another tongue in cheek thought, for the other that I was, and also was not, as summer drew onward as short as it would come and go—a reminder to leave the apartment more often, and to mind my manners, to find the upper echelon wherever it was and come quietly into its doors, to open my world and wordform of thought, into a place where my heart always was; then, and only then, would I be home. Amongst the men and women of the uppercut and classy, luxurious big fishing ponds and flocks of doves upon olive branches—the peaceful world long parted from where mine was, by only the fault of my own. What had been done just certainly was, and yet, what was to come was an open poem, not of mine, but Godform in thought.

        ‘I wonder what's at the top of Rockefeller Plaza.'

        —perhaps, a gander at the bottom of an even larger entertainment complex.

        Then, again, only God would know what was beyond all that I wanted; a job—and not just any job at all— the one that I had always wanted.

        Mmm. Birthday cake.

        Suddenly the taste of a white confetti crème filled my mouth with a delicious remnince of what it might be like to taste a confectionary sugar again—but i couldn't imagine ever making it just on talent and charisma alone—no. Indeed, it seemed something had damaged my charm, and perhaps it was just the swarms and droves of phone controlled masses that saw me as nothing more than dust, I had started to surrender my desire to perform, and the quality of my music—along with my ability to make it, suffered with the awful thing that had been crowding my soul at all—whatever it was, evil and dark in nature, sure saw to it that it wanted to hurt me in all the ways that it could—and in all the ways it could not, I stayed away from most others, favoring my delisuins of love.

        ‘Nobody seems to understand that the pain they cause will only harm themselves.', I thought

        Younger souls, however, they were—and they would be kept in the pain that I was in one way or another until eventual death, far behind me on the infinite road to the source. Far enough behind, that it seeker to destroy my progress, and for all that it could, it also couldn't.

        The infliction of pain would simply not act as a measure for control any longer.

        Of into my own world, where I was at least free from the thoughts and judgement of others.

        She's the most beautiful girl,

        And I'm the most beautiful boy;

        So naturally, we belong together, don't we?

        I see a pretty picture,

        Picket fences and a family

        Golden Retrievers

        Someone reliever her;

        She doesn't believe me

        TV dreams and exquisite pretty people

        Burning candles, fire flames and

        frequent figures,

        Guest characters and cameos,

        Repeat offenders, multiple appearances

        Suddenly, really, it's another need

        People, people pleasers

        Audience affection,

        Tragic endings,

        Butterflies and new beginnings



        Gun under my tongue,

        Rubber like a frog

        My mind is in a fog

        Haven't bothered going on a walk

        To Trader Joe's but

        The anthem of my youth,

        A lost soul

        Another form of my love

        So what I wonder

        Put the gun up under my chin

        Rubber like a frog

        Blow my head off

        Just cause I didn't blow up

        Selfish cunt

        Big brother,

        Another hypnotist

        Little brother,

        Gotta love him

        Gotta love em

        For the Love of God

        I could stop for a moment

        Wash my mind out with soap

        Like I'm ten years younger, even

        Seriously

        20 years between us,

        You can't even hide underwater

        In a bathtub

        Seriously,

        Someone help us

        For the love of God, for the love of

        Hollywood

        Seriously,

        Someone love us,

        For the love of God,

        For the love of Rockefeller Plaza

        Someone help us

        Another possible walk of stars

        A little shop of horrors

        Another whole story

        I get rid of my demons

        The hoes screamin

        I put semen in her

        Permanent like semen,

        Just keep dreamin

        I'mma just keep preaching

        SaMo, Brooklyn

        Europe Next

        I keep scheming

        Whoever you are;

        If you're a wreck—

        You need a check

        No respect, neglect

        Just cover your neck

        (I'm blind to my own design, sometimes)

        That's what the eye is

        Try this:

        Close your eyes and say thrice, kids

        I am the God of the eye,

        Osiris

        I am the Gid of the Eye,

        I'm Osiris

        I am the God,

        I walk amongst the highest

        Thoth,

        You lost

        Better just die and keep trying

        I am the God of the eye, I am

        (Try this)

        I am the God of the eye

        (I never due)

        I am the God of the eye

        (That's right, three times)

        I am the God of the eye

        No black and white television,

        In my dimension we pay attention to centrifugal,

        The mission isn't in materialism,

        Whatever your spending

        If money the God,l of your eye,

        Realize, I am higher

        My gunfire,

        Is right on the back of

        The one dollar

        I am the God of the eye

        I Am

        Your money is nothin to us

        We come in peace,

        To end suffering



        Pretty little nigga

        Look just like Kendrick

        Kickin it with jigga

        I'm the new hits boson

        Part of me never left Boston

        (Fuck Starr!)

        Part of me never left homeless

        This ain't my home

        It's my office

        You never heard this song

        You don't notice

        I'm an ugly kid, you don't notice me



        Rooftop smells like soy sauce

        On god

        I am ugly

        You don't notice

        -Atari the God

        Can we get back to this, please?

        Damn. She really whooped her ass, though.

        Janet, can I borrow you for a second?

        No.

        Please.

        [Whoopi Holdberg appears in the doorway, gesturing “c'mon”]



        …alright.

        I got convictions on my lips,

        I took a picture

        Turn the page

        The worst of all was, it really did seem like they were racists—

        INSOMNIAC EVENTS

        Not just racists— the most deadly kind of racists.

        WHITE SUPREMACISTS

        You really want it this way, don't you?

        No!

        I LOVE you!

        Oh, do you?

        If there's a mile in here, I swear to god..

        Are you high enough yet?

        I thought so

        HIGHER!

        hire star*

        What.

        Just do it.

        You remember these guys, right?

        GOOD CANNABIS, FAIRBANKS, ALASKA

        No.

        Why are we back here.

        Alright, we might have fucked up.

        Why.

        This guy sucks.

        HEY.

        What.

        COME BACK TO ALASKA

        never that.

        WHAT, WHY NOT!

        GOD HATES FAGS!!!

        Well, you're wrong!

        WHITE POWER.

        Nah.

        ALL LIVES MATTER

        O rly? Even this guy?

        Literally every “NO”

        …so, all lives.

        Look, I don't care what color it is; I want that book in my library.

        GO TO THE LIVRARY.

        NO.

        GET IN HERE.

        NO AUBREY. STAY DEAD.

        She's dead, right?

        YOU CALLED ME HERE.

        I didn't!

        You Did.

        I did not, all i said was

        *swoons*

        …I love her.



        (I really do)

        WHAT?! “I Love you?!”

        It was more the *swoon* that did it.

        Disconnect.

        Fuck, I lost deadmau5 again

        What'd you do to him?

        Nothing!

        Put him back!

        He's still there! He's right there, you see him?

        No! This isn't deadmau5. We want deadmau5 bring him BACK.

        Fuck, I fucked up.

        What'd you do?

        …nothing?

        Pick up the phone

        Pick up the phone

        …hello?

        Who IS this?

        Fuck it, I quit.

        Man, God never puts my dishes back in the right place, like ever.

        I told you, I don't live here, I'm just…

        Babysitting.

        CC!

        What!

        CC!

        What?

        CC

        WHAT.




        Fuck, man.

        That was wild.

        Where the fuck have you been?

        I don't know.

        You don't know—you smell funny.

        “Funny” is that what that smell is?

        No.

        When were you?

        When? Ha.

        Did you—-

        Did I what?

        —did you go to a party without me?

        Lmfao fuck these niggaz.

        Why, what happened.

        What's this.

        Where was it?!

        Idlewild.

        “IdLeWiLd”?!?!?

        You. Old. One here and die, you know l

        It's cattle call for curtain calls guy

        Where did this go—

        What was this, once?

        It's the return

        Welcome to Oz

        This is the Tower of Babel

        Remember;

        I wrote that

        Better than the bottom,

        Still not the top

        —it's not as fast, when it's not going all the way up

        Did you jump yet

        Come around more

        Keep coughing

        Are you sure this is where it was or—?

        Somewhere else I stayed

        Back when I was homeless

        It's hopeless!

        We lost her

        Antenna, antenna

        SUPERMARKET

        I loved her

        —she was undercover

        —I'm still in your stirrups

        I'm lost in New York, then

        BACKFIRE

        Adele remix is on have a seat

        Can I go now?

        I still need a hat, a half dollar

        and an alter cloth

        You could win an award for this;

        I don't want an award,

        I just want my son back

        Motherhood, motherhood

        Brotherhood, brotherhood

        This isn't one of us!

        No one was

        No one was

        Can I go now?

        Where to?

        Home!

        Nope, that's just the office,

        I'm still homeless, unless I

        They got cabanas on top of offices!

        (The rich and the famous

        Networking and brunches—

        _this looks fun, doesn't it?

        I altered the course of history

        In brief exchanges and

        Various social atrocities

        This is hypocrisy! lol rly

        This is hypocrisy!!

        Hyper awareness and, psychic inclinations…

        You realize the more low quality people you let in

        The more low quality this country becomes, don't you?

        I put a roll in the back of the chosen ones.

        Used to be cast more,

        Now something seldom ever happens

        Such as this—

        A fun Fortune 500

        What does that even mean

        Forbes.

        Look it up.

        What if the policy is

        Foreign;

        Look it up.

        I know enough about the girl next door to know

        Something is horrible,

        Something inside of her

        Rots at the core,

        Her obsession;

        My undeservedness of such,

        What she must,

        I mustn't, just

        Unjustice

        Broski, okay

        I got to discard

        All the pichardo

        Besides just this one

        (I'm standing on top of you)

        Put somebody worthy on the fourth floor

        Worse off,

        I was done for

        Before

        I got to New York

        What's her for?!

        I know enough about the man upstairs to know

        All these glares and

        “How dare you's” and

        Hatred says

        Why would you wait 30 years

        Until today, I guess

        Something is certainly off about her.

        I said yes.

        It was more probably something like

        “SUCK MY DICK”

        What.

        “YOU HEARD ME”

        Oh yes, I did.

        From 1990 to 1993

        From 1990

        To 1993

        From 1990

        To 1993

        Stop breeding these things,

        “Love is familiarity”

        No

        Love is what you make it

        But you can't

        Because of slavery

        They don't make music

        —they don't make love either

        Well, look where your lust took you!

        Nowhere!

        Exactly!

        Look where your love took you:

        Vegas,

        Los Angeles,

        South of the Border

        Above it

        a New Yorker—

        Under budget,

        Celibate and

        My arms are too short to jump the turnstyle,

        Meanwhile

        My ex husband left permanent scars on

        My face

        My lips

        My arms

        My hands

        And my heart.

        Did you bite him?

        Of course I bit him, he was strangling me.

        You definitely won this fight.

        I know.

        Look, if I don't call for security,

        This bitch is gonna make me kill her.

        OCTOPUSSY

        NO.

        What.

        NO.

        Stankass.

        I will KILL this bitch.

        Look, I gotta get ahead in this.

        I need a WIN.

        These are customs.

        Trash.

        Wash your pussy.

        Send her back.

        Nah, you know what.

        Remove that hex.

        Wait, what, really?!

        Yeah, like;

        Reverse it.

        Woah.

        That's crazy.

        They got like….white slaves now.

        That's not right.

        What do you mean.

        That's not it.

        You said “reverse it”

        This is what the white supremacy just did to everyone else:

        [world in crisis except for for people who look like Kayla Lauren, to whom EVERYTHING is a fucking crisis, that isn't]

        BECKY/KAREN/WICKED WITCH OF WHITE AMERICA

        I AM OFFENDED

        I'm offended that you signed your like 12 year old daughter up to pose nearly nude, but—

        Hey look, it's us now; is this freedom?!

        Uh….

        Why are all the female models like 12 and all the male models are fully grown men—

        Or women.

        Right.

        Idk.

        Wait, I do.

        You do?!

        Wait. Something tells me all the pedophiles and all the white supremacists are in the same group…

        Run the same businesses—

        Have the same families.

        This is disgusting

        Okay, this is gross

        That's not right !

        That's not my job!

        Oh, it's not!!?

        NO.

        Who should I call

        That guy.

        So you want this?

        Oh, it's a death curse?!

        It will NEVER end.

        Wanna bet.

        I'll kill you and take the whole world with me.

        Now that's a threat.

        Thing is, I'm actually making it.

        I'm telling on you!

        Ok. Wait 30 years though so you look and sound REALLY fucking stupid.

        Ok.

        30 YEARS.

        Doesn't make sense.

        What's the statute of limitations for—

        Hm.

        Depends.

        Depends on what.

        Who are you?!

        WHO ARE YOU?!

        NOBODY YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT

        THEN WHY DO I?

        wtf is this?

        This is Texas being petty.

        Ok, fuck ya‘lol

        YAW.

        I'm serious, wtf is wrong with you.

        Something.

        What.

        Fix me.

        Fix you. Hm. Ok.

        *COUGHING*

        Somethings wrong here.

        Yep, it's definitely some kind of

        FIX IT.

        Where's this ROCK?

        At the ROCK.

        Like, where tho?!

        Ur gonna need this.

        What.

        They r crucifying u.

        Noted.

        Hunts Point Food Distribution Cente

        Lmfao I need this word hold on

        eliminating redundancies, setting strict timelines, and allowing cases to proceed contemporaneously

        [ Finally, recognizing the danger that social media poses to young people and mental health, New York City Department of Health and Mental Hygiene Commissioner Dr. Ashwin Vasan today issued a Health Commissioner's Advisory identifying unfettered access to and use of social media as a public health hazard, just as past U.S. surgeons general have done with tobacco and firearms.]

        A win.

        I don't play dead.

        What do you call this:

        DIE! DIE, BITCH!

        Corrections.




        I still don't understand how this—

        ACID

        HAPPENS.

        Out of sight

        Out of mind

        So why these guys

        Tryna waste my time

        Tryna fuck with my mind with

        All these lights

        OH MY GOD

        I ain't got time for that

        Well,

        Maybe I do—

        I just

        Don't like

        NIGGAZ LIKE YOU.

        (Say what)

        I don't like

        Niggaz like U!

        I'm Sunnï Blū!

        You're stupid

        Oh, so he put a curse on sunni blu, too?

        Ok. Cool.

        When all my aliases come up

        This dumb motherfucking drunk

        Is gonna get stuck

        In his own woods

        He'll bury himself

        In the words that he left

        With the scars

        In the words that he left

        With the scars

        Sunni blu

        Is the sayer of stars

        I slaughtered them all

        Swallowed them whole

        Like a big black hole

        I'm a big black god

        I'm a big black God

        Fuck

        Twinkle that broad

        One punch girl

        One punch girl

        5 punch faggot

        I'll unwrap flags on your

        Goddamn

        Fuck that

        Put a curse on my alter ego

        Lucky he's a he, tho

        I blow holes in em

        I blow smoke

        And love sausage

        I'm a hedon

        And he not a

        Hero

        He broke

        He lost

        I'm open

        Shirts vs skins

        I got 666

        Curses to show you

        What your words did

        IM RA

        I'm a big black God

        You're at home with the young apostle

        Let's be honest

        He never even liked his father

        So turned him to a mother,

        Told his mother to run far,

        And bring back

        The life that I want

        I'm a big black God

        In light skinned clothing

        You don't know to explode

        Or explode on me

        Cause my mommy's a

        Dark skinned icon

        That my God

        Find something to pass the time,

        God

        Sunni with I, huh

        I won

        Fuck a pedophile wifebeater

        Bury him in the woods with his fury

        Fear me, now

        I'm coming up with reverse curses

        And cures

        Cause my words

        Bought the whole world

        Buried you in the woods

        I'll bury you in the woods,

        Bitch

        Very good

        I'm a big black

        God

        -Blū.



        GOD is the GOAT

        I just became god

        I do what I want

        I get what I want when I want it

        I don't want no problems

        Me myself and God only



        I buy everything I used to steal

        These tears in my heart say I'm healing

        What's the difference, anyway?

        I've never been fit for your interests, or industry

        Add insult to injury

        Add everything to my Amazon cart, then

        My sympathies

        Nothing is greater in heaven

        As it is in hell, for this industry

        Turned on its head

        And turned over from

        7 to ten

        Check your messages, then

        Shut up kid, this doesn't involve you

        You're not included in the package

        Michael c hall and John c Riley reprise Mr. Cellophane in the style of DEXTER MORGAN.

        HA.

        Classic.

        GOT EM.

        V.O.

        I met her at The Jumping Point

        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        37 min
      4. RAVE BAE.

        I gotta find that pilot I wrote for—

        MAYA RUDOLPH

        FOUND IT.

        Oh, My God

        Is it Esha in this scene?

        I can't remember if it's Esha or the nanny.

        Did he not fuck the therapist?

        I mean, that's later.

        Is it?

        I guess.

        Continuity.

        Whatever.

        .

        JIMMY FALLON, YOU PATHETIC, BLASPHEMOUS BASTARD.

        SAY MY NAME ONE MORE TIME. GO AHEAD.

        do it.

        You can't say shit to me.

        Almost nothing.

        I was almost asleep.

        Fuck it up, Jimmy.

        You know, you could get like,

        Straight A's this semester if you just

        Listen to me.

        Focus.

        Fuck this.

        FUCK THIS.

        OK, FUCK THIS MACHINE.

        He puts a quarter in,

        Turns the corner at around four o clock.

        Takes metformin for supper.

        Supplements, supplements.

        Nothin.

        Oh, you wanted this to happen.

        I purchased this collection of poetry off the black market.

        For what.

        It's a machine, JImmy.

        JIMENY CRIKET

        Christ almighty

        Wait.

        Wait a second,

        Go back.

        To which part.

        TO this day

        “she's polite”

        I know this, she'll find me in here somewhere.

        I know this.

        Just let it go.

        No, she'll find us.

        You're living a lie.

        This is why you're behind in this race.

        Well, it's a race war, isn't it?

        You started this?

        Look what I did.

        I bought you christmas presents.

        I'm pretty sure i'm not even allowed to celebrate it.

        HEATHENS.

        Correct this behavior.

        See the reasons behind them, first, before you cast judgements.

        Set the trap, she'll fall for this.

        She needs these things.

        All this stuff was stolen.

        You think.

        You think too much.

        You think too little of this organization.

        Because, Jimmy, i'm above it

        You know, this could be the reason you lose at this.

        I don't care anymore if I lose at this,

        As long as somebody wins.

        This is it, Jim.

        I guess so.

        Let her rip.

        Let him have it.

        FIGHT.

        How's this gonna work, if I fight to WIn.

        It's a fight to the DEATH?

        This is a fight to the DEATH.

        …Johnny Depp is here.

        Let him in.




        How many is that?

        At least 10.

        What did she give to you, for this?

        SIR JYRE

        Medicine.



        Tina Fey

        Amy Peohler or however you spell it

        Maya Rudolph

        Ratchel Dratch

        Kristen Wiig

        Kristen Shaal

        Melissa Mccarthy - might be the only non-SNL member

        The Cosmic Avenger

        Damn. That dude lost his whole name.

        He lost everything.



        So Wait, that's Eight.

        Yep.

        Who are the other two?

        Gimmie the pop tart movie

        Fir what.

        To laugh. I want to laugh.

        YEE

        hehe

        I ANT

        Weird shirtless overall pictures—-



        wtf is THIS.

        MAYA

        Ok, check this out.

        God, this is hideous.

        I think we might be related.

        Alright guys, I found it!

        Yes!

        Finally!

        The problem is—

        When I got there

        *sniffs*

        FALLON.

        —Fallon had already been there.

        Ah,Christ.

        How does he do that?

        By the power of CHRIST, I compel you!!!

        Oh shit, he is good at this.

        Uh, I gotta get going.

        Look, I'm gonna need some time.

        Alright.

        Just tell me, you'll consider this.

        Ok—my son.

        And please—

        Your secret is safe with me.

        God.

        Hm.

        We need your help.

        I'm “the help”

        “Father Knows Best”

        You know you're going to Hell for this.

        I do come home sometimes.

        Great, she missed it.

        Oh shit.

        Yep.

        And you're gonna—

        I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want, with whoever the fuck I want.

        Why is there still deadmau5 in this—

        What's this.

        Pudding

        No, this is

        This is a really long episode of whatever it is, shutthefuck

        Uh oh.

        You know, we can't do this.

        There is absolutely nothing you cannot do.

        Absolutely nothing.

        Ok. You guys are all in here—

        —Somewhere.

        Yay!

        Yes!

        Elevatorsz!

        Except you.

        What.

        Stay out.

        WHAT.

        Actually, you know what?

        What?

        Move.

        He switched me seats.

        Uh…

        Okay—now get the fuck out.

        FUCK.

        Meanwhile:

        Bad news dude.

        Aww. What's up.

        Your dick still sucks.

        WHAT.

        Sorry, bros. I tried.

        So did I!

        It was bad. Maybe worse than before.

        HOWS THATS POSSIBLE.

        I dunno, but—damn.

        Damn!

        BEFORE:

        lil dicky got rich and famous—

        Now all the girls lie to him

        And tell him that his dick is awesome

        He has no idea at all

        Whether or not

        His dick still sucks

        WHAT IN THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO THIS KID?

        I don't know. Let me see.

        *roundhouse kick to the face*

        [blank stare]

        Fuck, alright, well—

        Just put him in there with the other broken ones.

        “The other broken ones?”

        This—for some reason happens, sometimes.

        What? How often?

        Like, a lot?

        Opens door to roomful of lifeless bodies with blank canvas syndrome.



        So wait,

        Why isn

        They say all it takes is one song—

        What if the money you make is all wrong?

        Went from blonde to dark blonde

        Spent it all on repairing the Honda

        Hell naw



        Isn't it awful, what we all are,

        Or what have you—

        I just hope that this isn't at all

        What you meant by this

        It is, and it isn't

        It's just helpless

        Useless

        Combinations

        Concentrations, focus—

        Dance lessons

        Synchronized swimming

        It's just living,

        Infinite.

        Combinations

        Complications

        Hyper focus

        Dance lessons

        This is is not a dance class

        It's a fist fight!

        This is not a dancehall—

        It's a collesium

        Did you see em

        Did you see em

        This is not this morning,

        It's this evening—

        And I'm warning you to

        Leave me alone

        Leave me in the Tv then!

        That wasn't me, this was my clone.

        This is my office, not my home.

        Imm never home.

        1-800-⌨️

        NEVER ALONE

        Shout out to Amanda,

        I'm still aneorexic, somehow

        I was his punching bag,

        Now he just wants me back

        Shout out to Alaska

        I should book some shows out there

        How's my dad been

        How's the husband

        He's a has been.

        I HAS BEEEEEEEN!

        How long is this gonna take, you think?

        I think-

        I think—

        I think I just need

        TWO WEEEEEEEKS.

        I don't know why, but I needed that.

        Shout out to Amanda

        Now I can do algebra.

        Shout out to Alaska

        I should go back there

        Shout out to the past, man

        I should go back there

        You're not here for Skrillex, are you?

        Does it look like I'm here for Skrillex, to you?

        Whatever you do, just

        Whatever you do just—

        Oh shit, here she comes

        Here she comes

        Play “stupid”

        What the fuck's wrong with you

        Turn off the phone

        No, I'm stupid!

        Swiftly stops at seven just to remember:

        That— isn't it sinister what the plan is

        To deliver this message to the planet

        I got the water.

        There's a hole in the bucket, dear Jorgie!!!




        Dont cry, mama—

        I'm Rick James!

        Don't cry!

        (I know who you are…)

        Mama,

        I'm Rick James

        Alright, alright, alright

        What's good—

        Steve Slattery

        Uh.

        John Martin.

        Really?!

        Does she serious get us confused?!

        Are you not like— the same guy.

        “The Same guy”

        I feel like this should be in a seperate document.

        I feel like it shouldn't.

        It's true!

        It's true!

        It's just like this now

        She's just like this now!

        THERE THEY ARE.

        THERE'S TINA

        TINA SAY WHAT.

        Nothing. Nothing. Listen—

        [MAYA RUDOLPH—just has that look on her face]

        Yeah. I'm DRUNK.

        Everybody's drunk.

        *dancing*



        SOMEBODY GET ME OUT THIS PETH—

        —uNNHHH

        PRTY.

        Where Uptown A at?

        Sober. Doing my job. Preforming.

        Oh nice.

        Which you all should be.

        IMPOSSIBLE:

        You have officially rendered us

        UNSTOPPABLE!

        —dysfunctional drunken idiots.

        BANG—BANG—

        Oh shit, here they come

        BANG BANG!

        Chitty chitty

        TITTIES!

        SHHH! We're censoring, still

        This is NBC or Disney or something

        Everybody should be—

        We should be streaming it

        STREAMERS!

        AND STRIPPERS.

        Is that all we needed from the dollar store

        Oh what the fuck.

        That's crazy that this is all the same party.

        In. Ents.

        Idiots,

        Wait, are those DUDES.

        It appears so.

        ARE THERE GUYS HERE?!

        LOOKS LIKE IT!

        CHICK FIGHT!!

        The vocals go around the head to choke you,

        Woah, dude,

        I don't know what you go through,

        To open those throat chakras,

        Oh, I do know

        Oh so lowly

        This is a lot, I can't even.

        This is the winner since intermittent detention centers mental facilities and interests in domestic and international terrorism, respectively, but

        To be honest, I should slow down,

        Format formally for a moment,

        Go somewhere I don't go,

        I don't know,

        I should grow up though,

        Show up to a show or

        No.

        GO, GO—

        GET IN THE BOAT

        NO

        YOURE A GHOST!

        BE A

        GHOOOOOOOAAAAAAAATTTT

        GHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOST

        stop it.

        Who tf are these tweakers?

        Just leave them alone. I'm pretty sure there's gonna be like a whole soundtrack to this by the morning or something.

        WHEN'S THE MORNING

        SUN!!! COME BACK!!!!

        Hello, Moon

        Just wait for a while,




        I am an army of men;

        Puppet I'm pulling the strings

        No man, I'm all on my own

        That's for now

        But who knows

        I can do bad all by myself

        Come on

        I'll show you

        Curtains close,

        Lights up,

        Curtains open

        Lights down

        One man show

        I'm a whole

        One man show

        I can do bad all by my—

        Luminous

        Illuminate me, I am

        (I am, I am)

        Luminous

        Illuminous

        Illuminous

        Luminous

        Go for a run,

        Soak in the tub

        You know?

        One door open,

        One more close



        Where you go?

        You go this way,

        And I go that, hon

        Let's do lunch soon

        Take your number

        You know what?

        I'm done with this

        (I'm done with this stuff, I don't want in no more)



        I'll show you

        Curtains close,

        Lights up,

        Curtains open

        Lights down

        One man show

        I'm a whole

        One man show

        I can do bad all by my—

        Luminous

        Illuminate me, I am

        (I am, I am)

        Luminous

        Illuminous

        Illuminous

        Luminous



        It's no wonder you're up with the sun

        It's one in the morning,

        You're still making coffee

        You started a world war

        —all I want is some water!

        You wanted a broke heart

        My scars, all I wanted was love

        Now what's up?

        I been up for a month

        I got up making coffee at

        One in the morning

        I still got no words for these verses

        I read duteronomy

        Here's some astronomy

        No more scars on my sky

        city lights

        Now I'm way up high

        You like that, hun?

        Yeah I'm way, way up

        I don't it no more

        I'm so done with this stuff

        Thought you started a whole war

        You can have the whole world

        For a glass of water

        You broke the part of my heart

        That was giving a fuck

        Now it doesn't

        Now you lost it

        I don't even want it no more



        I am an army of men;

        Puppet I'm pulling the strings

        No man, I'm all on my own

        That's for now

        But who knows

        I can do bad all by myself

        Come on

        Story:

        The owner of an underground/illegal nightclub pays his talent in drugs—but when the new DJ refuses and asks for cash up front, a dangerous clash is enacted, and ‘the talent' groups together and hatches a plan to take what belongs to them, by staging a robbery at a massive flash-mob style party.

        Damn. Ok. Well we'll see about this.

        What's the budget.

        Crunching.

        More Maya…

        Rupoloh.

        Sure

        MAYA!

        —Angelou— or Rudolph?

        Rudolph; but I can summon Maya Angelou, if you want.

        No thanks; I did that already in the first season.

        We might be related or something.

        MINNIE RIPPERTON

        We both have the same weird, Afrocentric

        No-shirt overall wearing

        Family Photo.

        I don't understand.

        Nobody does!

        This is fucked up.

        Yeah.

        This is fucked up.



        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        42 min
      5. THE PLUG.

        I've been celibate for too long.

        You know how I know?

        Shits getting weird.

        There's babies everywhere,

        My heart is literally on fire—

        All the time—

        And guess what else?

        I found out this weird trick—

        On complete accident.

        I actually found out that men are like real life good pussy detectors.

        Like, they have a sensor, or something.

        You know how I found this out?

        By complete accident.

        I promise, it was an accident.

        I was doing kiegels on the train—

        You know— like little—

        Pussy workouts—

        You know, you like. Clench real tight, and then release?

        Yeah.

        Anyway,

        So I was clenching my pussy real tight, right.

        On the train.

        And like six dudes were like

        **snifs, looking around**

        -_1

        “Where is it?”

        And I was like

        “Uh oh!”

        Oh no!

        But I thought to myself—

        No, that was strange,

        That couldn't have really—no wait-/

        So I did it again,

        And even more dudes were like

        “YO, WH—“

        “WHAT?” *snifs* what.

        And that's when I found out

        “that's—wow. You know what? I should not be clenching my pussy like that on the train”

        And then,

        Of course,

        I'm doubting myself, I'm like—

        No way! That's ridiculous— so I thought

        Maybe one more—expression—one more kiegel, ought to do the trick.

        So I did it again, one more time—

        And all the dudes were like

        “”Whaaaaat is that?!l

        “What is going on”

        But this one dude, big black guy—

        Got this like sense of clarity,

        Whipped his head around at me,

        And luckily I was wearing sunglasses but,

        Looked dead at me like

        “ITS YOU.”

        And I was like

        Yep.

        You know what?

        I shouldn't even have this pussy on the train like this.

        I'm a just—

        I just got off the train.

        I don't even think it was my stop.

        I was just like—

        EXIT.

        No more pussy on the train.



        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        38 min
      6. THE PLUG.

        I've been celibate for too long.

        You know how I know?

        Shits getting weird.

        There's babies everywhere,

        My heart is literally on fire—

        All the time—

        And guess what else?

        I found out this weird trick—

        On complete accident.

        I actually found out that men are like real life good pussy detectors.

        Like, they have a sensor, or something.

        You know how I found this out?

        By complete accident.

        I promise, it was an accident.

        I was doing kiegels on the train—

        You know— like little—

        Pussy workouts—

        You know, you like. Clench real tight, and then release?

        Yeah.

        Anyway,

        So I was clenching my pussy real tight, right.

        On the train.

        And like six dudes were like

        **snifs, looking around**

        -_1

        “Where is it?”

        And I was like

        “Uh oh!”

        Oh no!

        But I thought to myself—

        No, that was strange,

        That couldn't have really—no wait-/

        So I did it again,

        And even more dudes were like

        “YO, WH—“

        “WHAT?” *snifs* what.

        And that's when I found out

        “that's—wow. You know what? I should not be clenching my pussy like that on the train”

        And then,

        Of course,

        I'm doubting myself, I'm like—

        No way! That's ridiculous— so I thought

        Maybe one more—expression—one more kiegel, ought to do the trick.

        So I did it again, one more time—

        And all the dudes were like

        “”Whaaaaat is that?!l

        “What is going on”

        But this one dude, big black guy—

        Got this like sense of clarity,

        Whipped his head around at me,

        And luckily I was wearing sunglasses but,

        Looked dead at me like

        “ITS YOU.”

        And I was like

        Yep.

        You know what?

        I shouldn't even have this pussy on the train like this.

        I'm a just—

        I just got off the train.

        I don't even think it was my stop.

        I was just like—

        EXIT.

        No more pussy on the train.



        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        38 min
      7. dead, or alive?

        You want to come to, don't you?

        I'm not really sure I do…

        WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

        I am up, you blind bat!

        I'm rather more of a goat.

        I thought it you were a horse!

        –And to that, I say “Ney”

        Great .

        Listen. If you can get all of the Golden Girls and all of the beatles lined up in a row, I'll give you a bucket.

        What's in the bucket.

        Nothing, that's the fun of it.

        hm.

        Sir Paul McCartney?

        Uh, I guess.

        Sir Paul McCartney, you must never die.

        –I feel like i've heard this somewhere before…

        Perhaps somewhere before; But here, now.

        Very well, then.

        On you go.

        You know–you look familiar.

        No, I don't.

        Are you sure we don't know eachother?

        I'm not sure of anything, really–and neither should you be.

        Words to remember, my dear friend.

        __

        So you've been knighted.

        I'd think it so. but the ceremony were in the morning.

        ___

        Notes Dump II:

        All those who seek to controll me

        Will therefore be controlled by me

        therefore

        Those who seek to contain me

        Shall therefore be contained by me

        Amen

        JOHN SLATTERY

        wtf characters is this.

        idk , it just says “John Slattery”

        The fuck, man.

        She doesn't listen.

        She'll listen to me

        You think so

        I know so.

        Forget it. If she doesn't obey me–

        She's not going to obey anybody–

        Especially you;

        Whoever it is you think you are.

        Whatever, asshole.

        That's right;

        I'm an asshole.

        So that's Captain Asshole

        To you, motherfucker!

        [There's a Surf Club in Brooklyn]

        Mister Cellophane

        {The Printing Press} - pop Up Club

        Toot it and boot it

        “The telepathic deadmau5”

        Whatever that is

        Ooh shit, here we go again with this motherfucker

        [The 4th Dimensional Jimmy Fallon's telepathy becomes extremely keenly developed, with the more time he spends intentionally looking into the eye of the many cameras used to film the shows h appears on, exponentially increasing over the expanse of his career–as he soon finds out, his peers have also developed this seemingly unique ability, however, each person who has gained this ability has also developed an individual; intrinsic and respectively specific skill within his or herself which allows each person who possess this telepathy to limit/inhibit this at his or her own will or desire

        Whatever.

        JIMMY FALLON YOU RAT MOTHERFUCKER.

        I'm not a rat! I'm a weasel! AH!

        YEAH?

        YEAH, FORREAL.

        WELL, FUCK YOU, YOU WEASEL MOTHERFUCKER.

        FOR WHAT.

        i'M GONNA KILL YOU.

        That's readily apparent–BUT WHY?

        [The mobster lunges for Jimmy]

        AHH.

        I NEED CONTEXT.

        [He lunges for Jimmy again]

        AHH

        CONTINUITY. CONTINUTIY.

        Oh damn. So he really can shapeshift into.

        Just about

        –Just about anything.

        Fuck you.

        [The syndicate crime organization which Patrick has become involved with has become mistrustful and uncertain of his straightforward and clean-cut demeanor; He is forcibly injected with a combination of heroin and cocaine to ensure that he is trustworthy to continue within the organization, and his reputation is put into jeopardy as his occasional recreational use curtails into a habit, which he hides, as his new promotion to Head of Programming, in addition to his continuing role as the host of a primetime late night talk show are both put at stake. Patrick , a young and eager writer and performer, begins his career as a remarkably clean-cut and good-hearted young man, with an almost heroic sensibility of naivety, besides his impressively professional tolerance for high volumes of alcohol, and primarily hidden vice for cigarettes.]

        What is that.

        (mockingly)

        Heh. “what's that?”

        [Patrick shrugs, and grimaces, as if to say “whatever, then”]

        It's just some ye-yo.

        (uninterested)

        Oh.

        [He suddenly becomes slightly more hostile, as if provoked by Patrick's nonchalance]

        You down for some ye?

        Hah, i'm straight.

        (squinting)

        You sure?

        Yeah.

        Come on! Don't be so stiff.

        (defensively)

        I'm not “stiff”

        I'm just–

        (insisting, drawing closer

        Try it.

        (not backing down, but stern)

        I'm good.

        [The two are face-to-face, the room becomes quiet.]

        Try it.

        Nah.

        [His eyes widen; he appears offended.]

        I insist.

        [Patrick silently declines, attempting to stand up.]

        CONT'D

        Seriously? You know what–

        [The tension has risen; Patrick inwardly understands there's no escape; He swallows nervously, he is trapped, and surrounded by the crew of gangsters.]

        Sit.

        [He pushes Patrick down, holding his arms to his sides.]

        -___-

        We'll get back to that later.

        Damn shit show is intense.

        I know I haven't even found the real deep stuff yet.

        Yikes. I hope you weren't intending for Fallon to play this!

        Oh please! I don't even think he's capable of palating a show like this.

        That's an insult.

        No, it isn't. The man's a genius; but, a comic genius. You remember when Sandler did all that serious shit?

        What serious shit?

        Exactly.

        DOC BROWN

        THis is some serious shit.

        Not yet, Emmmmit.

        What do you mean, “not yet”? I haven't much time left, you know.

        Whatever! You're going to live forever!

        (Amen)

        I'm ma stressin

        Flexin my God complex ‘n / complexion

        I'm on Lex and, I'm not lost

        I'm just walkin in the wrong direction,

        To throw ‘em all off,

        N keep them steady guessin!

        your deviation from the media signifies your obedience of this law.

        What law.

        Wait. Where'd you go.

        [ILLUMINATi]

        HELLO?

        They tried to curse her name,

        But had forgot that it was

        Their ow; Therefore they cursed themselves,

        Set her free, and sent her home–

        The curse was meant to kill, so she'd always be alone–

        instead , she rose above the world, to sit upon the thrown

        HEr name became an honor, to which it was bestowed, the crown she wore upon her head,

        To show the curse had broken.

        –C'cxell Soleïl Azul Monroe

        Esha's Life Begins to Change drastically and rapidly, once the blood oath is set–

        PATRICK

        Oh, by the way, I've published your book.

        ESHA

        I'm Sorry–

        PATRICK

        (interjecting)

        –don't apologize…

        ESHA CON'T

        –you w-what?

        PATRICK

        This–

        [Esha gasps in shock.]

        ESHA

        How did you–

        PATRICK

        The artwork is beautiful–

        ESHA

        Patrick–!

        PATRICK

        It's your design, of course.

        ESHA

        How did you–

        PATRICK

        How did I what?



        ESHA

        …This was on canvas!

        PATRICK

        Was. Now it's the cover of your book.

        ESHA

        “My book…”

        _______

        [As the workplace tension rises between Patrick and Esha and a strong romance begins to bloom, however unrequited between them, Patrick begins to return Esha's rejections with practical jokes, which sometimes backfire quite tragically, to Patrick's guilt and shame.]

        Patrick spits int Esha's Mango Lassi as she completes a task across the room , unseen) (he does this playfully, however and not out of spite, as since their fated intertwining within the blood oath, the two have shared such intimacies that this is only a ‘minor' contamination; they are, after all, bound by blood.) Esha sits back at her desk unwittingly, stirs her Mango lassi with the straw, and takes a sip of the refreshing drink.]

        ESHA

        Mm.

        [Patrick smiles maniically]

        LILLITH enters, walking past ESHA's desk and glancing at her, stopping short of greeting her, distracted by her refreshment.]

        LILLITH

        Ooh! That looks good. Can I try some?

        ESHA

        Sure!

        [Patrick's eyes widen, but he attempts not to react; LILLITH takes a sip.]

        LILLITH

        Ooh, that is good.

        [she takes another sip}

        [PATRICK keeps his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue, hiding that he is inwardly horrified; he rubs his eyes.]

        LILLITH

        yum . Grandma. You've got to try this.

        VIVIAN, passing by gestures to ESHA, who shrugs nonchalantly and nods a “go ahead”

        [PATRICK might explode; but he hides it well; VIVIAN Takes a sip.]

        VIVIAN

        That is delicious.

        LILLITH

        I know, right?

        VIVIAN

        Thank you, Esha.

        LILLITH

        Yeah, thanks.

        [Vivian and Lillith walk away; Esha gestures warmly and stirs the drink again, taking another sip before putting it down, looking at Patrick unassumingly, however, somewhat knowingly.]

        [PATRICK'S nostrils flare, he keeps his hands in his pockets and grimaces]

        [beat]

        “Jigsaw”

        [Patric finishes Esha' Puzzle, then frames it, as a romantic gesture. However, this very explicitly angers her, and she charges him; This is the first time he, or we as the audience has ever seen Esha in a fit of rage, or breaking her usually dry and collected composure.

        She enters his office, infuriated She smashes the framed puzzle across his desk; the puzzle and glass shatter, scattering impressively in an explosion of glass, wood shards, and puzzle pieces.

        PATRICK

        Good morning!

        ESHA

        You FINISHED MY PUZZLE.

        PATRICK

        –I thought you'd like that

        ESHA

        –YOU–

        [She begins throwing things off of Patrick's desk; starting with an awards trophy which appears to be an Oscar, then launching his bobble heads and finally, hulk smashing the cappuccino machine.

        PATRICK

        WOAH!

        ESHA

        –I WAS WORKING ON THE END FOR MONTHS.

        [She continues to destroy his office.]

        PATRICK

        HEY–wait, really?

        ESHA

        YES.

        PATRICK

        …It was so simple…

        [He has never witnessed this side of Esha before, and despite the destruction is quite amused. He snickers.]

        ESHA

        THIS IS FUNNY TO YOU?



        [Patrick sips his drink.]

        PATRICK

        I guess you could say i'm “puzzled”

        ESHA

        AGH

        [HULK SMASHES CAPPUCCINO MACHINE, as it is the last thing on his desk.]

        PATRICK

        OK?!

        [ESHA more satisfied/calmly pours out the remainder of his coffee; Now he's at the very least kind of upset. He sighs; She exits calmly.]

        VIVIAN peeks into the office as she passes ESHA exiting the doorway; a small crowd has gathered to gawk, but for the most part it's ‘business as usual', with most of the team assuming PATRICK has simply been up to his tendencies; In fact, he has, however, His relationship with ESHA has become quite complex, as due to his marriage and family, ESHA's continual rejection of his romantic sentiments, despite their explicit interminglings has left him befuddled, and consistently strategizing a way to earn her trust, as she seems an impenetrable wall, and hides a certain mysterious darkness.

        lol , Eli Scruggs, Man.

        Man, I wish.

        I love this scene though.


        LATER

        Eshareturns to her new home (an incredible modified loft in midtown, with a cast iron spiral staircase, stained windows, exposed brick, and exotic wood floors;

        Oh yeah, cause that one part where

        VICTOR

        You burned down her house?



        PATRCICK

        I bought it, first.

        And Insured it.

        VICTOR

        Woah.

        PATRICK

        Well, it was already insured.

        Lol damn this dude is a boss.

        Yeap.

        Fallon couldn't handle this.

        Nope.

        So who plays Esha?

        Idk. Some pretty light skinned girl.

        How light skinned.

        Light skinned enough to be an ingenue.

        Is she the ingenue?

        Almost. Kind of.

        Wtf.

        right .

        [Everything at first looks normal, until she reaches the downstairs bathroom/washroom door to find it closed (which is unusual She nervously looks abround, then notices under the door, one single puzzle piece – she opens the door; an avalanche of puzzle pieces falls to her feet; the entire room is filled floor to ceiling with puzzle pieces.

        EARLIER:

        Patrick sits in the rafters/air conditioning vent with a shop vacuum (in reverse) full of puzzle pieces, (a vacuum he has ‘borrowed' from the studio from the prop room of a show in which contestants are put into a translucent box to attempt to grab money as it flies into the air) He fills her entire washroom with the pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle

        Esha, who neither appears to be angry or otherwise, hauls the pieces out in large garbage bags, , then carrying them into the master loft, a two-level space in which the lower level houses her art studio, where she finds a giant frame hanging from the roof on suspension chains;

        The camera pans outward with ESHA center, within this giant frame, creating in itself a picturesque vision, herself a painted picture, as she sorts through the pieces atop her bed

        Now I have your eyes,

        And you have mine

        We are we n

        The mind of The Eye

        This bond surpass

        Any test of time

        I am I

        now sign it.

        Uhhh..

        Oh, th taste of tears

        To be bound by blood

        The cure of the oath

        The blessing of both

        Oneess

        [Patrick's children are somewhat all like him in some way; Effectively, they are hilarious?

        PATRICK

        This one does tricks.

        See!

        Hazel!

        Hazel is so effin cute.

        I know huh.

        She's like Sally Draper +

        Sally Draper ++

        Goddamn.

        Yeah.

        Cute.

        Woah.

        Right.

        Anyway.

        HAZEL

        Huh.

        PATRICK

        Do a backflip.

        HAZEL

        Ok, daddy.

        [HAZEL attempts a backflip, but fails.]

        PATRICK.

        Fuck.

        [Face down, waves her arm as if to signal “i'm alright”, but clearly is inured.]

        PATRICK

        (taking a drink)

        Call the paramedic,

        HAZEL

        I'm okay, though! [She lifts her head up and appears shaken, however smiling–her eyes welted and nose running.]

        I'm okay.



        PATRICK

        No, bab, don't–

        HAZEL

        (cracking her neck)

        I'm okay.

        PATRICK

        Don't–your neck…

        HAZEL

        (walking it off, sighing)

        I'm okay, daddy.

        PATRICK

        Maybe just the chiropractor.

        Oh, My God

        Is it Esha n this scene?

        I can't remember if it's Esha or the nanny.

        Did he not fuck the therapist?

        I mean, that's later.

        Is it?

        I guess.

        Continuity.

        Whatever.

        We are as one

        The Mind of the Eye

        The Divinity of One.

        JOHN SLATTERY

        as

        THE MAYOR OF

        Which place

        idk

        Lol this dude is forreal always a politician.

        He looks like a politician.

        Look.

        MAYOR OF NY

        I think we may have found something of yours…

        [INT. JFK AIRPORT. NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK, DAY.]

        MAYOR OF LA

        Where?

        MAYOR OF NEW YORK

        The airport.

        MAYOR OF LA

        Which airport.

        MAYOR OF NEW YORK

        JFK

        MAYOR OF LA

        I need you to ground that plane.

        MAYOR OF NEW YORK

        How?

        MAYOR OF LA

        By Any Means Nessesary.




        Lol that's it.

        Yup.

        Then it just ends.

        I fucking guess.

        I guess!

        Lol

        She is beautiful

        Eyes of oceans

        Eyes of oceans

        Eyes of oceans

        Dear God,



        Bring us together so that we shall prosper- in spirit, in body, in mind, and soul, as one, as we are Love, The Divine

        We are not alike, we are the same

        Please God bring me to life so that I ma meet the father of m future children, so that I might overcome poverty, find success, and great happiness, so that I can complete my journey of creating a family, to give birth to and raise more children, in a new and happy hope and marriage.

        Amen.



        As the sun draws upon my window at this hour, I call upon the dawning of a new eero of love, light and happiness, for all that I am and all who enter my presence, look upon me, know my artforms, or take part in my honor, the many plentiful endeavors and endowments of the great and holy divine, God almighty

        Amen

        C'cxell Soleïl Azul Monroe

        I thank you and humbly ask for you Great and Divine, Honorable protection, my dear lord, so that I might only know love, happiness, success, and great praise.



        Okay, so i did very briefly shapeshift into Steve Bucemi last night.

        Are you certain?

        I–

        [THE MAN IN THE MIRROR is STEVE BUCEMI]

        …whatever. I'm going back to bed.

        I'd highly recommend that.

        You can't forget a face like that.

        On that note,

        I think i'm into crustpunks.

        You want.

        I–oh yeah.

        Yes?

        Yes, please.

        GODDAMMIT.

        What.

        It's this stupid game. I can't get out of this effin trap.

        Oh.

        “oh”

        Have you tried, like–

        Tried like, what? I've tried everything.

        Just hit ‘escape'

        What? That's not gonna work.

        Have you tried it?

        No, that's stupid.

        You said you tried everything.

        Yeah, but that's–0

        Just try it.

        GET UP, DILLON FRANCIS.

        GodDAMMIT.

        He's out cold.

        I'm not! i'm getting up.

        Jesus Christ, dawg. How are yout this much of a fuckin wook.

        I'm not “wook”

        You ARE wook. Jesus.

        Jesus is here.

        How are you more of a wook than Jimmy Fallon?

        That dude is like ancient.

        I'm not wook.

        You are wook.

        meanwhile

        WEEKEND UPDATE returns with a not-safe-for-work-or-TV Special.

        Oh no.

        Is that why

        SHH. SHUT UP.

        OH, YEAH, iT'S ON MOTHAFUCKA

        Dude. you can't wear suits to a rave like that.

        CAN

        uhm , CAN.

        Wtf man.

        Apparently, all the late night guys are like in competition with eachother.

        DUH.

        Even the dudes that are on the same network.

        DUH.

        Christ, kid, you are sloooooooooowwww.

        ….-_- which Seth are you again?

        The important one.

        Whatever. Just get Jon Stewart the fuck out of here before

        *michielf*

        Fucking christ.

        So wait, this is

        This is everybody.

        Can you explain to me why I blacked out on top of my kitchen table this morning?

        I can't actually explain that, no.

        SETH MEYERS

        (sipping coffee)

        Well, I can.

        UGH.

        AIGH. OHOKAY. UNCLE. UNCLE!!!

        AAAAAAHHHHAAAAA.

        Damn, you know it's gotta be close to th end if we've over here got

        [JIMMY FALLON at a RAVE ]

        Oh no. That can't be right.

        No, i can't do that .

        No one will recognize

        Chill, it's fan-fiction

        So you're a fan, then.

        No. But i'm sure you have them, somewhere.

        Aha. Ha.

        JIMMY FALLON'S #1 Fan

        Besides his–

        LET'S SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT THAT, FOR NOW, OKAY.

        I will never, literally ever let you live that down.

        Shut up, clever.

        SHut your face.

        IT wa the aliens, okay! Aliens.

        BEFORE:

        [Aliens]

        Who, what, him?

        {Jimmy Fallon}

        JUICE.

        OKay. Wtf, what the everliving fuck is that?

        Captain Hook REmix of Psychic Experence Breaks down reaeeeeal hard at around 4:30

        What the fuck do they want with Fallon?!

        I don't know

        Is that him

        Yep.

        Delicious.

        Oh shit. The purple people eaters are back.

        WHAT. WHY.


        CAuse their lunch got away.

        WE LIKE HIM.

        Ah. Alright.

        I CAN'T DO THAT.

        What do you mean, “you can't do that”

        I can't do any of that! I'm on ice cream.

        Oh shit, he's on ice cream.

        MAYA RUDOLPH.

        DId someone say



        OH —------, THEY'RE BACK

        ICE CREAM?!

        Sorry, i didn't do this on purpos–

        COSMIC AVENGER

        –but I did.

        Fuck. Someone go fuckin get that guy before he



        ROCK



        KESHA! KESHA!

        KITE.

        Hey, look–I am so–so sorry about this…

        Whatever. It's not my fault.

        It was like this “Jimmy Fallon” was following me everywhere.

        WHAT. You thought i made that up?! THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

        DUH.



        WTF. It's you again.

        IT's me again.

        Where is

        What. Where's what.

        Where's Wolf?

        Somewhere, I'm sure.

        Don't worry, yo. I'm sure it's not the real Jimmy Fallon;

        They're jus using him to implant my brain waves with leftist doctrine.

        Did you say ‘doctorate'?

        And also, sapiosexuality.

        “The Seven Souls of Sai The Saige”

        Sai and Psy The Saige are two halves of one; Counterparts, opposites, in fact—

        I don't want to do this anymore…

        I could feel the bags form under my eyes, the bath was run and I was due to release at least one episode today, but was rather being persuade to hard release, as I had intended; multi-part episodes recorded before I had fallen into silence, after another attack–a spiritual attack, which had left me in a raging bout of suicide and uncertainty–uncertainty, that is, as to whether the human race could be reclaimed from evil at all–as no one seemed to care for spirit or justice more than I, and however true it might have seemed, I was probably wrong, and for whatever reason, just trapped amongst these animals for whatever reason–perhaps to convey this message, that love would triumph over hate; but how could i preach such things now feeling another–it was as if I had been beaten or raped with no way at all to retaliate on my attacker, and still threatened by this force, some motorist who tore up and down my block at all hours, ripping me from the delicate rest I so craved and needed, as if it were the force which had destroyed all mankind itself, a reminder I should so when I wish, leave the world. There were no words left, only music, and no reason to speak, would the words fall upon deaf ears. Mankind as a whole had rotted to its core. Even days later, stil my chest ached, and my breathing shallow–the pain having torn through my heart not once now, but twice–I knew it was an intentional attack, whoever by, protected by evil itself.

        “How White Supremacy and Privalege are Ruining The Entertainment Industry”

        An article i'll never write because of terrorists

        By

        Whoever, just kill me.

        {Enter The Multiverse}

        [The Festival Project.™]



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



        ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

        -Ū.

        33 min

      About [ENTER THE MULTIVERSE]

      From the publisher's feed

      The Festival Project, Inc.™ is a multidimensional multimedia platform which encompasses exploratory and artistic social personifications and expressions on cosmic theory, spirituality, growth, health & wellness, philosophy and theoretic dynamics in entertainment such as music, design, film, television, radio, dance and festival culture, art, fashion, literature, and science.