thefestivalproject.com

The warmth of the morning sunlight through and jovial bus driver somehow made it all a little better, but I still wanted to cry, and was choking back tears, though flushed with relief, after running for the bus, having nearly boarded going in the opposite direction—before realizing my mistake, crossing the street to where I assumed the correct stop would be as the eastbound rushed by me, as I darted after it at top speed, yelling—

“Hey, HEEEYYY—!!”

—at the top of my lungs, from my already hoarse, very sore throat, which had magically plagued me just the day before my departure from the East coast, with not quite a full cough, but just enough of one to attempt to dislodge whatever moist, unpleasant sack of phlegm which seemed to coat my upper chest, through it wasn't entirely respiratory; I had been annoying myself and more than likely anyone I spoke with over the last couple of days, but, for some reason, still felt it necessary to say whatever I was saying—explaining off my situation to try to dissuade the perception that I was a loser—still actually convinced that either my ex, or “coughs” had set my life into a spiral with some demonic, black magic curse.

I gotta go now;

I got a show now

We bout to turn out

…Wow… You got me a blouse…

Heh

You came to my house

You gave me the mouth

I gave you the mau5

‘How's about a downer?'

Do you want the powder?

It's been half an hour;

I am just a flower

And let me show you

How–er–

Let me show you.

#oysters

Que es eso?

‘Oh shit.'

I thought, quite loudly to myself— but of course, not loudly enough for anyone to actually hear—however someone might have been able to put together from the startled expression on my face that I honestly was surprised, and had forgotten about the most incriminating thing one could ever go about attempting to bring through airport security, besides a gun or an actual bomb—

‘My suicide knife.'

I honestly had forgotten about it— not about suicide entirely, just that I had an easy-out always wirh me nudged somewhere between my sunglssses and haircomb. Not only was I dressed like what some might have considered to be threatening to begin with, and had been pulled aside as usual for the fully thoroughly TSA Pat down…but, the agent examining my bag had produced a—though delightfully fuchsia-purple, with matching safety cover—very carefully sharpened knife, which I had grabbed from the collection of cutlery at the Hostel that gave me the boot, more probably than not, for not being the wide-eyed groupie they wanted and needed to follow them around town to their band's performances, taking pictures and videos for Instagram as proof they were semi-human pro-musicians, and rather taking my time there to develop my own projects, all-the while battling a mentally-ill, anti-America, Al-Jazeera binging also otherwise homeless unhygienic, middle-aged house-rat, who challenged me in completing my workstay duties, hiding cleaning products and of course, curating rumors about my actual identity and intentions in being there—not that I had room to care—still followed by the now notoriously evil abrupt and awful coughing literally everywhere, all the time—signaling that perhaps I was in some lower realm of Hell and should probably just end it all myself, rather than to keep trying at anything—especially music, especially being a DJ. I was used to always having something sharp with me, usually a piece of glass, as my time on the mountain with Avicii and all-out ritualistic skrillex-related torture left me friending for the spilling of my own blood via a broken wine bottle or something similar: not to say I hadn't already been trying furiously to end my existence furiously before whatever happened happened—and now not only didn't I care, I actually had grown a sour taste in my mouth for Skrillex and any of his ass-wipes; Satan wasn't doing anything for me, and I certainly wasn't doing anything for it.

I hadn't made any music since I'd left the hostel, of course pushed into the world and landing on my feet in the only way I could, albeit not under Satan himself, as though he shared some of the same characteristics—I.e. being a complete dumpster of a human being— but perhaps another of Tje Devil's advocates, as Anandar had called herself, often playing the devil's game and of course, losing—or supposedly winning, as she had returned back to the UK and her riches or whatever she had that I hadn't, though we were all “one”

The coughs were eating a hole in my stomach in my heart— I inched into the only corner of unoccupied space I could find, though still thoroughly haunted and plagued by the disgusting open-mouthed hacks and mannerless, mouth-breathing consumption of snacks—snacks I had been prodded at by TSA in the shock that i hadn't any; What I did have, however, was cough drops—though stale and probably each containing about a gram of sugar, and yes, the Devil himself prancing around the airport as young-looking women, or children—though it was hard to tell the difference—with the body types of fucking Kayla Lauren, almost no waists at all but somehow all the chests and ass of a college cheerleader, having decided to fly in crop tops and otherwise revealing, tasteless attire.

For some reason, I just didn't want or couldn't listen to music, refusing to put my headphones on over my ears at any point and instead endure the coughing. Maybe it was that after countless nights now nearing months of blaring Deadmau5 in my non-sleep just to avoid to hearing coughing, hacking, or some other torturous disgusting noise coming from what only seemed to be possessed bodies occupied by Satan, which— by the looks of it somehow should have aided in my ability to produce dubstep, but instead just edged me closer to another suicide attempt, had it not been that I found the frequencies of The Red Albums as I had begun to call them to be somewhat healing, and overall soothing. And though I understood all of them now to be hypnotists, I didn't mind as much being hypnotized by deadmau5, as I had been stupid Skrillex or fucking Dillon Francis, not allowing myself to even dream of being attracted to a married man for more than just a glimpse.

As it were, my own deal with the devil precisely, if I had made one more than imaginary or fictional— was that once Sonny was more than likely miserably married to Kayla Lauren or some other Illuminati-approved mannequin, then and only then would I allow myself to fully and truly kill myself—by drinking daily and nightly, just as anyone else did, not just to cope with the toxic, nauseatingly furious injustice and inequality in the world—but also, to channel whatever otherworldly spirit would come of my undoubtedly incoherent, intoxicated, innebriated, otherwise useless and certainly not in any way at this point societal—self, coaxing out any music that may been looming around the soul I carried, or whatever was left of it. I hoped and prayed that her perfect, 108 pounds of flesh would soon hypnotize the master hypnotist himself into bewedding—and even hoped the same for Dillon Fucking Francis—so that at least I could enjoy every last sip of every last drink on every-last-club crawl, knowing I was right, and proving my gut instincts about men—especially celebrities, the media and models—like attracts like, and after a month being a nothing-and-no one back in the good old USA, I didn't even like myself. I wished myself away constantly, though having had too many lifelong dreams of crashing planes, didn't exactly hope for my means to an end to include the 100-something other passengers, even if they were looking at me as if I had just crept out of a nightmare even more unimaginable than I had half-dreamt to deadmau5, just the night before—my excruciating back pain crying from the depths of somewhere between Hell and wherever this was—probably walking distance or a stone's throw, by the looks and sounds of it all—and even if they all were, by my projections, mere reflections of the self cast into a 3-D realm by mere circumstance.

I boarded the packed flight behind a plastic looking woman and her not-yet-plastic offspring, in all designer attire—even she had the same perfect figure i had been trying for desperately, and skipping protein in distress avoiding building more, bulky muscle—skipping the machines during training that were aimed at building the thighs, or even the legs I hated almost as much as the leftover tissue and scarring of my belly from whatever world I was born into— only to half-eat myself to death, and then deflate into an otherwise-healthy looking being, if nakedness were never such a thing. I looked at her smooth figure through the nearly translucent wife-beater she paired with waist-high sweatpants I literally would have died for—rather than to work multiple 8-hour shifts anywhere just to attempt to save for, anyway—but now I would have died for just about any reason; nothing had been fair, or right, or whole in months, with the exception of small pockets of luck here-and-there which all but kept me from killing myself, reminding me there might be something to live for, if I could at least just—

But I didn't know what I needed to do. No dead end job, no temporary housing, no random act of tax-write off charity could seem to do anything any real justice—the entire world was built around having a perfect figure, or somehow becoming delusional enough to accept that obesity was normalized and acceptable because of our own American dietary standards. I myself, with every pound shed, felt more betrayed and less human—now sporting an extra small figure and, dressing to look actually bigger than I was, often in layers and baggy sweats, to avoid anyone thinking I might be attractive in a swimsuit, or undressed entirely—which as it turns out— was all anybody cared about; My coming of age had finally dawned, with the realization we were really all just here to eat, fuck, and die—none of which I had the enjoyment of doing. Some might more modestly described it as to Eat, Pray, Love—and besides praying, I wasn't doing very much of either of the other things.

Upon finishing my training, early in the day rather than late, to ensure that I would at least spend the minimum 3-hours in the gym before having to airport-my-way across America, having learned in Miami that even some of the worlds busiest airports with the longest layover times had no gymnasiums, I smelled something like a horse—actually, I smelled exactly like a horse, which was somehow more bothersome than the fact that for about the last week or so leading up to this, I had been sweating what smelled to be bullets of pure acetone, my Insomniac hoodie always drenched-to-dripping in a satisfying cascade of bodily fluid—and though the only beverage I had allowed myself for very, long besides low-carb protein shakes, was water—I was thoroughly curious and also, abrasively confused at how I seemed to be sweating such noxious gases that I became reminiscent of any given nail shop upon exiting my sauna suit, layered of course with sweatpants and the last hope at any dignity I had, my now-signature Insomniac sweater, which once spoke of prominence in its quality, but now was thoroughly worn, and ripping at the sleeves; With any hope, I could refurbish it, but I wasn't sure what the future truly would hold, my ESP always only expanding just-beyond the present on a typical-day-to-day basis.

This unremarkable day, I smelled like a horse, which was humerois enough for a moment-or-two, as I had bounced ferociously in the sauna to Salvatore Gannaci's now-years-old-banger of the same title—though it was still new enough to me to mix, or at least a banger enough (and after a months-long-absolutely-NO-OWSLA released hard rule which had plastered nearly half my dance music library onto The Blacklist) worked its way back into my ears after the call to preform nearly every night of the week cornered me into a deadlock, of course not allowing Skrillex himself off of the Blacklist, but the rest of the mixable music i had collected from OWSLA, to avoid playing the same songs in consecutive sets, especially on days I would play twice, party people sometimes migrating from one show to the next. I didn't believe in pre-recorded sets, and prided myself (and set my rate) based upon being the only DJ for miles and miles not playing pre-recorded sets, or, even— other DJ's mixes—which, I didn't even know was okay.

(But it's not.)

As the woman in front of me prided herself on no longer being diabetic, after a successful pancreatic transplant, tilted my head back and thought to myself, choking back tears, wondering what I'd done to deserve this Hellish subsistence. Coughs was indeed a deadly demon.

‘Maybe that's what I need; A heart transplant.'

But it seemed this ‘coughs' thing was actually more after my soul, than my already barely beating, shallow, broken heart.

‘Fuck this shit.'

[The Festival Project.™ ]

The Legend Of...

S Ū P ∆ © R E E.™

E V E R Y D A Y I S R A V E D A Y

ENTER THE MULTIVERSE

An Insomniac Original

(maybe.)

Ū

Alright.

GOD

This is the part where you don't sleep.

SUPACREE

Oh no.

GOD

You've been ‘Don't Eating' for like, 8 months now. Now it's time to Don't Sleep.

SUPACREE

Yikes.

Û

You can bet we'll have it done by the beginning of next semester.

GERALD

Next semester's set to not even be in a classroom.

Ï

Even better. Remote binge worthy media.

Excerpt From:

“Blū and The Cosmic Owl”

...

...Having found the fallen owl, he glances up at the sky, just as another shooting star flies by.

In awe, he stands at the giant animal, who pants in a tragically cry in pain. He sorrowfully glances into the bird's giant eye, crying as his tears spill into the trail of blood, a sparkling dark purple river, streaked with the silver streams of moonlit tears and the golden gleam of a lucid dream; her dilated pupils reflect all the cosmos, sparkling through the three round dials; some sound, which has never heard or even fathomed to be made, a vibration ringing as it aligns with his light, which also shines now through his dark brown eyes; He is hypnotized, nearly full of light in a state of trance as he begins to float upward, levitating just slightly--A SUDDEN FLASH OF COSMIC LIGHT, as the wounded bird, morphs into a matching [humanoid] being, abruptly changing the frequency from a hypnotising lull, to an ear-shattering, soul startling and painstaking frequency. As they both hover above the ground-- still in levitation, he quickly looks down worriedly, then back up at the being--now matching in age, as The Princess, a pretty poised and painted warrior, adorned with the royally decadent white and purple trimmed fashion, crystals and gemstones of the galaxies imbedded into her sashes.

He's enamoured and intrigued, less terrified than excited; however her eyes, now changing a through colors of neon light, reflect her terrified and painful confusion, having been wounded with the weapon of ‘man'--he falls toward the ground, suddenly, groaning in pain, then turning into a fetal position from which he cowers in fear under her.

A tear, which has formed in her eye, nearly falls; she forcefully reabsorbs it back into her eyes, as she calms herself down, lowering gracefully to the ground.

She crouches over him, thinking twice quite literally, before angrily kneeling over him, yielding a ball of fire out of one hand, holding him by his shirt with the other--he cowers in fear, now--his awestruck chased away by the apparent power of this being; she quickly throws her fireball at a nearby bush, lighting it as he glares at the sight slightly stupified by the fire light, which he likes.

A splash of water drenches him from head to toe, blasting off his pink glasses and shattering playful spry outlook with a very grumpy pout, as he stands up, dripping from head to toe.

She stands, one leg crossed over the other, another dream of water floating in her hand; as he stands dripping, she blasts him again, with the intensity of a firehose pushing him back.

Taking awhile to get back, she waits, meditating by the bush as a campfire, as he, still dripping approaches. She looks out of one eye, unassumingly continuing to meditate as he approaches the fire, which he sits by, as closely and cautiously on the other side, trying to get dry.

She looks at him from the other eye, calmly sighing as she blasts him with the surprise of an almost blow dry, which she provides by colliding her hands stretched outwardly towards him; the heated gust leaves him looking somewhat like a freshly groomed poodle--his dark brown hair to match his sweet and gentle eyes, by which, his glasses having been blasted off a third time, he notices as he pushes up on the bridge of his nose, realizing he's lost them again--before he can even (literally) think to retrieve them, they float, guided by her telekinetic twisting of her index finger.

BLŪ

...thank you...

Still unable to form words, she just gazes at him from over the firelight, sternly searching perhaps, for the way to create a translation between her native telepathic ways of communication, or any of the alien languages--she is unfamiliar with this, though captioned in (several, actually) alien languages, we, as the audience can perceive any of the dialogue just to be "english".

PRINCESS

Why would you do that?!

BLŪ

What?!

PRINCESS

What you did to me!

BLŪ

I didn't mean to!

PRINCESS

Mean to what?

BLŪ

Shoot you!? I--

PRINCESS

Why would you ‘shoot' an Owl!?

BLŪ

An ‘owl?' I'm sorry! I didn't!

PRINCESS

Didn't what? LOOK.

[She appears, even still, to be wounded.]

BLŪ

I--I never--

PRINCESS

Never what?

BLŪ

I've never seen an ‘owl' before…

PRINCESS

So you just--!?

BLŪ

I'm sorry!

PRINCESS

What were you attempting to do?

BLŪ

I don't know!

PRINCESS

You don't know?

BLŪ

No! I just--

PRINCESS

You?

BLŪ

I...just…

PRINCESS

You…

BLŪ

I…

PRINCESS

…

[She appears to be bleeding through the sheath of her bodice.]

BLU

...Are you ok?

CYPHER I:

‘The Coffee Run'

This is my job,

Like this is your job

I look at the jaw

I want what you want

This is my planet we're on

This is is my plan, I got lost in it

Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm not

You just want a nut with a butt

I just want a bud--

[Sample, Dillon Francis: Hey Buddy! (The Coffee Run)]

--I'm not your buddy.

Ah.

Look at that car;

I'm on a coffee run at McDonald's

How much does it cost?

A dollar, one—

It's like putting gas in my car,

I don't wanna

I don't wanna

I don't wanna

Call Jimmy Fallon to borrow a dollar.

It's a coffee run

A coffee run

A coffee run;

You cough, I run

You like? I'm fun

The west was won by everything under the Sun,

Run it

This--soul.

Yes?

It is...of light?

It is.

And?

(A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.)

Something else…

What?

Something powerful. It is...beyond words.

How?

That is, yet to be understood.

Mmm…

________________

INT. SOMEWHERE IN ALASKA. DAY.

[Before the initial collision... ]

DEVIL

Exited for EDC?

Ï

Are you serious?

DEVIL

Is Dillon Francis going to be there?

Ï

Dillon Francis?

DEVIL

Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis.

Ï

Uh. I don't know. And I don't care.

DEVIL

Why not? This guy is awesome.

Ï

(rolling eyes)

Since when do you listen to EDM?

DEVIL

I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this.

VIDEO: NEED YOU, NGHTMRE & DILLON FRANCIS

Ï

Huh.

CUT TO:

DILLON FRANCIS arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he is ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop.

CUT TO

SUPACREE

What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him, asking "Who the fuck is that?"

HANZEL

Wvell that's because ze answer is "DJ Dillon Francis"

Ū

Exactly.

SUPACREE

Oh, please.

CUT TO:

INT. THE GREAT SALTAIR. SALT LAKE CITY, UT.

[SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room.

As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted.]

SŪP∆

Yikes.

[She looks down at her [watch, which appears to be a early version of the Synesthesia Panel] it is 7:35.]

SŪP∆ (CONT'D)

Annnnnd--the night is young…

[She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom.

She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently.

Downstairs, She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. ]

DIMITRI

Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy.

SŪP∆

Every day is rave day.

DIMITRI

I wish.

SŪP∆

Wishes come true.

DIMITRI

Ugh, I wish.

SŪP∆

Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true.

DIMITRI

Think so?

SŪP∆

Know so. Like--know-know…

so…don't wish for stupid shit;

you don't know how many wishes you

actually get, so just...be...specific.

[He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance.]

SŪP∆ (CONT'D)

...like super specific.

DIMITRI

...Specific…Wishes…

SŪP∆

‘Rollin'?

[DIMITRI nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat bass house music coming from the mainstage.]

SŪP∆

Just kicked in?

DIMITRI

(shaking head in agreement) Yuh.

SŪP∆

Water?

[She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immediately

[DIMITRI takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front of him; however, his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up to see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up.]

SŪP∆

Spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh.

DIMITRI

...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…!

[He happily takes a stick, as the DJ loops [live sampling] the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown; Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum.

She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as DIMITRI 'checks' himself, clearly unaware of Supa's Powers.]

SŪP∆

Trash.

[He enters his trash into the bag, after which, it immediately collapses, as it vanishes.]

DIMITRI

...what was...what was that.

SŪP∆

That...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags.

((( )))

(Magic Isn't Real!)

SŪP∆

Oh, fuck, right.

DILLON FRANCIS(in the next dimension over)

DILLON FRANCIS

Is.

SŪP∆

Uh, Personal Space.

DILLON FRANCIS

Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space"

SŪP∆

Telepathy wasn't invented at all.

DILLON FRANCIS

Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence.

SŪP∆

This has been previously established.

DILLON FRANCIS

I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously.

SŪP∆

Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish?

DILLON FRANCIS

Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen

in an unstable time warp, just

so we can have this conversation--?

Which, by the way,

I'm pretty sure does not comply

with aforementioned...reinforced foundations,

Previously...established…

SŪP∆

So what's the other half of thAt…

was it even an album. Is it an EP?

DILLON FRANCIS

Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way,

Jeez--JEEZ! I mean, I guess once

you get used to the view

from the stage, behind--you know

--where the actual DJs...DJ.

Behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ.

SŪP∆

...k…

DILLON FRANCIS

Which you're not.

SŪP∆

Oh, I'm not.

DILLON FRANCIS

No. You're just...Dillusionally,

probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ.

SŪP∆

‘Not a DJ.'

DILLON FRANCIS

Not a DJ. Right.

SŪP∆

Not a DJ...with Magic.

DILLON FRANCIS

Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever.

SŪP∆

Okay. Not--

DILLON FRANCIS

Not ever--

SŪP∆

Oh right, not Ever--s

BOTH

--a DJ.

DILLON FRANCIS

I'm glad you finally understand.

We so, so appreciate the FANS, though.

SŪP∆

BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan.

DILLON FRANCIS

I know. I have…I'm telepathic.

I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums.

SŪP∆

So many fans.

DILLON FRANCIS

And albums. Like, tracks.

SŪP∆

Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic.

DILLON FRANCIS

Tracks.

SŪP∆

I just got that, fan magic.

And you know, actual magic.

Thanks Dillon Francis--

DILLON FRANCIS

DJ Dillon Francis

SŪP∆

Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans.

DILLON FRANCIS

but you're my best fan.

SŪP∆

Best Fan!

DILLON FRANCIS

BEST FAN AWARD.

SŪP∆

YEAH.

DILLON FRANCIS

FAN CAM!

SŪP∆

ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM!

DILLON FRANCIS

THE *BEST* FAN GRAM.

SŪP∆

YEAH.

[Posing for a selfie, she uses one of her rave weapons (which is, actually just a regular iPhone) spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo created a time warp and intersectable checkpoint in time. She unfreezes the rave.]

DIMITRI

...magic…?

SŪP∆

Uh--no! ‘magic'. The music is magic,

Just trash bags...brand...yeah.

DIMITRI

trash...brand...bags...

SŪP∆

...yeah...

[They continue to dance; she nervously looks over her shoulder for possible alternate versions of DILLON FRANCIS At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--she readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing DIMITRI by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.)

SŪP∆ (CONT'D)

Now, business talk time.

DIMITRI

Serious face?

[She nods adamantly. DIMITRI tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses.]

CUT TO:

EXT. THE OPEN SEAS. DAY

[In a nearby dimension, As SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS continue to battle, they cross paths at sea.]

SKRILLEX

Nice Dinghy, dude.

DILLON FRANCIS

It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue.

SKRILLEX

Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show.

DILLON FRANCIS

She's the star of the show.

SKRILLEX

Not without me.

[A BAMPHERAMPH teleportals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, tagging him,

BAMPHERAMPH

TAG, YOU'RE IT.

[He disappears into another portal.]

SKRILLEX

I'm it.

DILLON FRANCIS

Nah, you're just “Skrillex.”

SKRILLEX

That's--all you need.

[A MOTHERFUCKER portals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, via another portal, handing him an *object*]

MOTHERFUCKER

Humility. You need it.

SKRILLEX

...I made the HUMBLE remix.

MOTHERFUCKER

Yeah you did.

[THE MOTHERFUCKER disappears into a portal; SKRILLEX unwraps the object; It is a pie, labeled ‘HUMBLE PIE.']

SKRILLEX

Hm.

FLASHBACK: BASS DROP, HUMBLE (Skrillex Remix)

CUT BACK:

As the bass drops, the pie explodes; This leaves him covered in a very fruity mess, and a *bass face*

CUT TO:

INT. OWSLA HQ. DAY

MANAGER

I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie.

SONNY/SKRILLEX

Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know.

[DILLON FRANCIS shows up, out of nowhere.]

DILON FRANCIS

Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean…

SKRILLEX

Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of ‘Everliving Skrillex' is, I'll wait.

DILLON FRANCIS

My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now.

SKRILLEX

My left sock was 69.99 this morning.

MANAGER

Why are you buying individual socks--???

DILLON FRANCIS

Why are you buying socks in the mornings?

MANAGER

You're up late, how are you even up in the morning?!

DILLON FRANCIS

Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep?

MANAGER

Who are you again?

DILLON FRANCIS

I'm Dillon Francis. DJ- Dillon Francis.

SKRILLEX

Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all?

Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniature yacht!

SKRILLEX

...What?

[DILLON FRANCIS portals them back onto the YACHT SCENE.]

*alt* SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS are still fighting; They are now both on the deck of SKRILLEX's boat, DILLON FRANCIS's mini yacht burning/ devastated by what appears to be a giant kraken in the background.]

ALT/SKRILLEX

FUCK YOUR MINIATURE YACHT.

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS

You're a miniature yacht!

SKRILLEX

Is that US?!

MANAGER

I told you...

ALT/SKRILLEX

You're not a good villain.

Or at anything, really!

You're just…'Dillon Francis. ‘

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS

And you're just stranded in the ocean.

ALT/SKRILLEX

It's okay, it's hella refreshing!

UNLIKE YOUR MUSIC.

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS

You know what--?

DILLON FRANCIS

(to his alternate self)

I got this.

ALT/SKRILLEX

Huh?

[DILLON FRANCIS blasts ALT/SKRILLEX into a portal, which whirlpools him into an alternate dimension; SKRILLEX and the MANAGER look on in horror.]

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS

Oh God, Finally!

DILLON FRANCIS

Yeah, I know.

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS

That took FOREVER.

[DILLON FRANCIS rolls his eyes and hands his alternate self a small object*.]

ALT/ DILLON FRANCIS

By the way--

[He opens up another portal, reaching out just to jump into it, exclaiming:]

ALT/DILLON FRANCIS (CONT'D)

Tag, you're it.

[He disappears into the portal.]

DILLON FRANCIS

OH, GOD DAMMIT.

COMEUPOUTDAWAHTA, S U P A C R E E M I X X

__________

SKRILLEX

Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it!

It's my alien planet, nobody land on it.

DILLON FRANCIS

Suhweeet planet…

SUPACREE

No! Don't land on that planet!

[He lands.]

SUPACREE

God DAMMIT.

GOD

I can't do that. You know I can't do that.

It's a whole planet just--give it time.

SUPACREE

I gave it spacetime! I am time!

GOD

I know you are, dear. Just be patient.

SUPACREE

Be patient? He went and put his DILLON FRANCIS all over it.

JESUS

Let Dillon Francis play with your planet, yeah?

SUPACREE

What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No.

JESUS

But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes.

SUPACREE

I do know how it goes. I wrote it.

GOD

How does it go?

It goes:

SUPACREE

--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home.

/SKRILLEX

No planet for Dillon Francis.

SUPACREE

This isn't Dillon Francis Land, it's closed.

And also Not. Your. Planet. Go. Home.

GOD

That had a lot of heart, hun.

SUPACREE

And no Dillon Francis.

JESUS

Actually, it had a lot of that, too.

SKRILLEX

Aha.

SUPACREE

--Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not-that, I'm about to knock the not-that-hot-sauce off his--

/SKRILLEX

--mini yacht knocking--

SUPACREE

--sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!!

/SKRILLEX

AGHRAHGHHGH!!!

JESUS

Whew. Did you just eat a McFury?

SUPACREE

MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH.

SUPACREE + SKRILLEX

FUCK DILLON FRANCIS.

JESUS

sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful.

SUPACREE/SKRILLEX

It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not.

(Alternately)

_______

DILLON FRANCIS

Hey. This is a nice planet.

Ū

He's gonna be like--

DILLON FRANCIS

Like flabbergasted.

Ū

Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land?

DILLON FRANCIS

Yeah.

Ū

Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon?

DILLON FRANCIS

--Yes.

(Previously)

[Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars). SKRILLEX finds the coupon.]

$-FREE MCFURY.

SKRILLEX

...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah!

CUT BACK TO

Ū

Hehehe.

EXT. AN ‘ALIEN' PLANET. SPACE

THE SKRILLEX Enters The Atmosphere.

THE SKRILLEX

'I AM SKRILLEX'

S- Sunnï Blū, Ninja Guru Singer/Songwriter

Ū- The Anti-Anti-Hero, the Superhero Persona, Ninja Assassin, and Mothafuckin' Bampheramph

P-PEACE (Piece, Piece of the Puzzle, Piece of Pie, etc.) Problemo (Exists when too many plot holes and complexities arrive, also “The Pretender”, who just ignores when crazy shit happens, questions all realities (?)

Alt+J- SUPACREE, The DIvine Trinity

C- (Copyright Symbol) The Original Cree, Alternately Chak Chel, the ancient spirit guide ‘trapped' inside of the Physical Body to Accompany and Assist through magic, rituals, and energy manipulation through music, time space, and all reality which exists within the fathomable and expanding infinite consciousness. (thought to be ancient, however actually originating from hyper intelligent and extraterrestrial existence in the outer realms.

Caricatures (“Characters” Based On Various Entertainment Artists Personas, To Be Played (As themselves)

S-Dillon Francis

U-Dillon Frances

P-Dillon T. Francis

A-Dillon Flances

C-Dillon Glances

R-Dillon France Is

E-Fillon Dances

E-(Fictional Dillon) Francis/Is Pasquale

-DJ Hanzel

-DJ Rich As Fuck

-Gerald

-N(E)RD (Pronounced” NED”)

Sonny Moore/Skrillex

-Hereby referenced to as SS, there exists “Infinite Skrillex” variably throughout the Multiverse, however, Skrillex himself is (secretly) the singular (and seemingly random apparent “phenomenon”) of his kind. A rare and shiny seemingly shapeshifting sorcerer, the concept and use of “Fictional Skrillex” is separated into a multitude of characters, uses and ambiguities explained throughout the series. *Spoiler*, Tying into the Theme of an Ever Expanding (and alternately, Collapsing/Compressing) Infinite Multidimensional, The Term Skrillex can refer the the Persona, or Person as Himself, but alternately is used as a noun, pronoun, verb, or adjective--even sometimes as a profanity, or to be referred to as a “race”.

Sammi B,/LSDream/Brillz

-Sam I Am (Festival Trip Alter Ego)

-I Am Sam (Festival Trip Second Alter Ego)

Pasqualle Rotella

A nameless, untranslatable into spoken or written language symbol, to be decided. An Ultra-Omnipitent giant (predominately purple, but emanating all colors of the cosmos) Galaxy of Ultra Concious Light Waves, SoundFrequencies, and Own Planetary Solar System, Boasting Stars which rival our own sun. A brilliant Collection of Space Dust (A relative of “Fart”, from Rick and Morty)

Evil Pasquale

Pasqualle Is Dillon Francis

Mr. Rager (Underground Pasqualle)

A No-Named Burner and Ultimate Raver, whose domain is the kingdom of the underground rave scene--he detests the mainstream, traveling (across time, as an undercover Bampheramph),

Wally (Never started Insomniac, Works At Walmart as Greeter. Never Raved.)

In a homage to the second back to the future, U has traveled back to 1993 to create a reality where Google and Insomniac, etc. are owned and operated by SupaCree, skewing into an adjacent timeline in the future where her superstardom and rise to fame begins as a child star on Disney Channel, crossing multiple timelines interdimensionally intersected on the Infinite Grid so complex, it begins to create a disastrous series of knots, loops, and voids, tangled now permanently into the fabric of time.

Wally is asked to fill in for his coworker in the photography section, where he develops photos from a disposable camera and is enamoured by the dazzling magic of EDC captured on camera. His eyes widen as he glimpses into the photos; it is love at first sight. He makes doubles of the photos, later creating a vision board (used as a totem, easter egg throughout series) Wally's World lol

The Ascended Masters

The Psychonauts

The Bampheramphs (& Mothafuckin' Bampheramphs, Respectively)

The Insomniacs (& Pasquallians, a secret sect of magicians, sorcerers and alchemists, seers and mystics carefully selected as keyholders to ‘The Secret Gates', a secret interdimensional transit system hidden beyond VIP (VIP+, VIP++, VIP+++, and VIP (+/-) which actually contains an underground city, a massive classified compound which exists between cross dimensions, allowing for shifts in the timespace continuums and temporary constructs of reality adjust by a mastery of manipulative conception, a complete control of energy--even allowing for such things as matter to appear, disappear,

The Toxic Avengers, Traveling across the Multiverse to Avenge the annihilation, assassinations, and massacre of The Infinite Skrillex

Josh Pan, combining his masterful Tri-Versal Powers, carries out a secret mission for the Ascended Masters, Also acting as A Bampheramph, as he plans to surpass MOTHAFUCKIN status, secretly stalking Sonny, having retired as Skrillex and fleeing to Alaska, unaware of what the package he has in his backbacm actually has the power to do. Josh Panhandle, the mountain man and the soul salesmen set a Bampheramph trap, which locks both the still living SupaCree, tmstill the original Cree, pre suicide and the post skrillex Sonny, retired;

____

I guess it just is what it is, then

Comin fresh out the whip, like,

“I'm off hiatus”

Gonna jump for a swim in the ‘bitch,'

Itchin drive me crazy;

Gonna need 6-10 stitches, the doctor say

He's in big business, with the witch Tengris–

Gotta play Tennis while I watch Tenet all in ten minutes

(On my small engine/indjun)

Turn around do a spin, drift like i'm Ben Ten,

And it's intense, like I been campin,

–Then I ditched Skrillex.

Just moved in, but it's been lived in

Set some new intentions,

Get bent, got some new addictions,

spin zen, got some new additions

Big Wig like I'm Hamilton in some New Editions

Did some big mentions,

I should send dick pics.

Watch this.

“It's Dillon Francis”

Now I'm real famous,

But i'm still nameless–

I just made the game up,

Still got jealous haters

*coughs*

I should say Gel-ous

Cause she got her nails did

*indjun; American slang for native or indigenous peoples of Northern America.

[THE FESTIVAL PROJECT.]

_________

[Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds;]

Three Cities, Three Main Stages At Three Major Music Festivals.

Three superstar DJs at the decks.

Did we make it?

Is it too late?

Is she gone?

Where is she?

Are you serious?

We're never gonna make it.

NO!

3 dimensions: Wait, what happened?

3 dimensions: Wait, what happened?

"Are you okay?"

This isn't happening.

Do we have time?

Never say Never.

-We'll never make it

-Don't say that!

Are you ready?

Yo, where IS she?

He's like, crazy or something.

She's crazy.

This is craaaaazy.

Ok, first of all--

Go! Go! Go, now!

-So, she already told you beforehand?

-Yes.

NO!

YES!

YAAAAAAS.

All dimensions: No/NO

NO, OH GOD NO--

"YES, OH MY GOD"

(sampled)

(What?)

"JESUS."

(Sampled from, Coffee Run)

(What?)

Don't--

What are you doing here?

(Angrily) Ū!!!!

It's YOU!

A group dancing to Soulja Boy

(Youuuuuuuu!)

(Rollercoaster sample from Scatta)

I don't know, he's been, you know--

-Did you know?

-No…

-DID YOU KNOW?

Know what?

What? What is what?

(From Deathbed)

...Water…

Surprised reactions, at the bedside

-Run!

-How much time do we have?

-Take all the time you need.

Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time...

She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually–

He's gone.

She died, right?

------------

"Running Out Of Time"

[Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing:

--c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT--

------

By Chak Chel's bedside, The Ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body.

Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage…

I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet!

She created that planet--

It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants.

If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time…

Time…? I--

They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of consciousness.

PAUSE

*EDIT*

What?

Just–

What!?

What would it be like to listen to some Skrillex right now?

NO. NEVER AGAIN.

[Thinking, drifts away.]

*listening to deadmau5, thinking about Skrillex*

Hmnnn.

Moar Ghosts N' Stuff.

*Synth Drops In*

Nope, I'm Good

lol.

CUT TO:

I told you I could be Joel's cat.

Oh, wow, nice.

JOEL

NO, MEOWINGTONS, NYO !!!!!!!!

Meheh.

UNPAUSE

CUT BACK TO:

She's so lost to time...

If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored.

It may never be.

INSOLENT CREATURES!

Perhaps we should prepare for invasion.

Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of consciousness--

We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through

--infinite--

--infinite dimensions--

This is everything.

Everything is Everything.

Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing--

Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void.

I'll push you into The Void.

Nothing I haven't been through.

Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void.

...I am The Void...

I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you??

(They argue loudly.)

[The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner.]

Guys.

[The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ]

...Shhht, quiet...

[The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion ]

(SUPACREE shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" )

Guys.

[As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light.]

GUYS!

THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES.

The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter.

The room cowers in fear and uncertainty.

CHAK CHEL

(very weakly)

Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now…

Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!?

Dillon Francis? Wait--what?

Dillon Francis, are you serious?

Oh, God--

--Shh--

Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis.

It's always Dillon Francis.

Tell me about it, Jesus Christ--

--SHH--!!

It's fine, I put the light inside of that one.

What light?

You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy?

I'm not a--wait--what light?

What's a "Dillon Francis?"

We had to hide it.

CHAK CHEL

Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time…

Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time–

(Tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis.)

That's her apprentice?

What!

Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess--

Except here.

--yeah, where IS he anyway?

Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago.

What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything?

I mean really.

[The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the–]

WHAT THE FUCK.

WHO did this?

We had to act quickly--

It was a unified decision;

DECISION BY WHO?

[They fall quiet.]

WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed excuse for a body?

What genetic catastrophe allowed for this creature to have been created?

Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to--

--THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE! WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS?

ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD--

...Satan Sealed The Shield...

[The Gods all react in surprise and horror.]

...What…

WHAT?

You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The–

Not me. Chak Chel.

WHAT?

...what? Why would...why would…

Why would she trade her immortality for–

She sacrificed her connection to The Source?

What for?

She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and its inhabitants.

She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love.

To Be Love.

She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself--

The Prophecy (III)

[THE ASCENDED MASTERY has assembled, the ensemble shieled by an ‘inpenatrable' invisible forcefield; SUPACREE senses the energy field,

Which she walks into, nonchalantly.]

She has awakened her consciousness far more quickly than was ever expected--

The Origins

Once we send her back, she will have been three times resurrected from Death.

How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light?

She can.

She will.

She has. There have been innumerous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her.

And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential.

Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as foretold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer--

--even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences--

She has believers.

(Uhh...I think it's a cult.

What's a cult?)

In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkness--

-The Mormons!?

-Oh, really? Hm.

-Jesus.

[Enter Mormon Jesus]

In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosis personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends)

A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SUPACREE through the window. Telepathically, very loud and disapproving of here mere presense.

(CONT'D)

…

She just doesn't believe in herself.

The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of The Light for quite some time now.

There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency--

--she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat--

--her, a threat--?

--she had political ambitions.

These men wage war over currency, the hypocrisy of religion.

America.

She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love.

A target?

Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darkness, the primitive error of man.

Greed.

She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can

And, has been raised by the shepherds and priests in the teachings of the great kingdom.

She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of The Source Light in the loss of Love; the pain becomes too great.

And now?

She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins.

So she knows…

She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light.

Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time.

Reality Is…

AH, JESUS CHRIST!

SUPACREE appears behind DILLON FRANCIS in the doorway silently.

The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side

You should probably answer that.

DILLON FRANCIS

You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that?

SUPACREE

Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing--

DILLON FRANCIS

Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh!

SUPACREE

...yes, it's that exactly, actually.

DILLON FRANCIS.

"Exactly, actually--actually,"

SUPACREE appears in full form, out of the translucency of the higher realms and into the personification of the third dimensional realm.

SUPACREE

Come on, dude, we don't have time for this!

DILLON FRANCIS

Time? What the fuck is time?

SUPACREE

Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it--

DILLON FRANCIS

Explain it when? When you have time?

[He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans.] (gh0st.)

SUPACREE

I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time.

DILLON FRANCIS

Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait

(Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint.

"Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country."

"I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones."

This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective consciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technologically-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of consciousness

"And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end."

*Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.*

...is that all of it?

SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infinitely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting each other in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen.

In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculous lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in.

ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: RICK AND MORTY

MORTY

Ohhh, oh shit Rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh...

RICK

Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones?

MORTY

Uhhh–'Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think.

RICK

Oh, you mean ‘Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that?

MORTY

No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey…

RICK

--You said "monkey" twice--

MORTY (CONT'D)

...Space Wars…

RICK

I don't know, Morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, it got, uh, *coughs* It got pretty deep.

Flashback: DILLON PICKLE FRANCIS// PICKLE RICK

Flashback Within Flashback :The Hellavator

Flashback within Flashback Within Flashback:

SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating RIck and Morty/justin roiland (and Dan Harmon, I guess) from existence in entirety.

RICK

...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that.

[He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from Run Ricky Run) as its main character.

RICK [w/MORTY]

What the--

MORTY

Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ.

RICK

--who, what? H-h-holdon--

MORTY, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to its original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow.

ANNOUNCER [W/MORTY]

DUEL!

RICK

Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--?

Ū!

RICK

This is just, brutal--

MORTY

That was just a highlight. The boss fight is live.

RICK

Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady!

F I G H T.

[HANZEL and GRETL are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House'

HANZEL

(it's a new genre)

B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immediately transport attendees into the Colosseum, where a furious SONNY/SKRILLEX and a rage-fueled SŪP∆CREE have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating wormholes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers.

[The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. ]

Everybody's there.

(Also, this is where "Everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.)

*spoiler alert*

DJ battle underway.

This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja

All the Rave Weaponry.

All the Jesus.

Everything.

The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Colosseum at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage.

Unassumingly, strolling along stage right SKRILLEX sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entourage and bodyguard, as per the usual.

Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popsicles, and cupcakes… super classy.

*supaclassy.

DILLON FRANCIS lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets.

*probably on something.

In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omni-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imaginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after.)

SŪP∆, after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She performs various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful.

Skrillex is Skrillex.

They lock eyes from across the stage.

An explosion.

-blam-

(MIND = BLOWN.)

(((throughout the dimensions)))

AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE

TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad

MORTY

Oh, shit!

It's on! It's on!

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER!

*tribal dancing*/chanting*

DILLON FRANCIS from center Sees SŪP∆CREE seeing SKRILLEX, squinting in confisiouson

(when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confucius.)

She's mad.

DILLON FRANCIS

Oh--NOOO.

He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see SKRILLEX seeing SŪP∆CREE, squinting Skrillex-y.

(That's extra, extra hard.)

He's mad.

DILLON FRANCIS

OH GOD, NO!

He morphs into DILLON GLANCES and DILLON FLANCES, respectively. (3)

Wtf is this like a fucked up shadow-clone juitsu?

Just–

DILLON FRANCIS

(To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th-

DILLON GLANCES

I can't.

DILLON FRANCIS

You CAN.

DILLON GLANCES

I can't. I'm not a DJ.

DILLON FRANCIS

Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT.

DILLOn GLANCES

Jesus.

DILLON FRANCIS:

JUST DO IT.

[They run off in three seperate directions: DILLON FRANCIS runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place…]

DILLON FLANCES runs into the festival's huge and quickly growing-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exiting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline.

DILLON GLANCES, who is–in fact– not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort..

(by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit")

—eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.)

—-posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks

SKRILLEX and SŪP∆ charge towards each other furiously--

Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to each other, radiating in fury and anger, they each explode.

SŪP∆: YOÜ.

SKRILLEX: YOŪ.

They charge forward.

BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!!

An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts.

yelling.

BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC?

BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?!

BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!

SKRILLEX:

No, who the fuck are youuu!

SŪP∆:

NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?

(Simultaneously, to stage managers)

SŪP∆:

what is HE doing here?

SKRILLEX:

what is SHE doing here?

BOTH:

I'M ON THE LINEUP.

SŪP∆:

Of Course you're on the lineup.

SKRILLEX

Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup?

DILLON FRANCIS

*Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce*

Let me explain…

BOTH:

DILLON FRANCIS?!?

BAMPHERAMPHS:

((From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars.))

…Dillon Francis?

—Dillon Francis? What is he doing here?

–Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again?

DJ RICH AS FUCK

Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis.

DILLON FRANCIS

Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis.

…

...Aren't you Dillon Francis…?

DILLON FRANCIS

[Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis.

They turn to look back at the stage, DILLON FRANCIS vanishes.

What the--

SUPACREE/SKRILLEX:

(Now with anger directed towards Dillon)

What are you doing here?

DILLON FRANCIS:

*Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup.

SŪP∆:

How?

SKRILLEX:

Why?

DILLON FRANCIS:

Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't--

SŪP∆:

Don't ‘WHAT Dillon Francis? blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? !

LIKE, THREE PEOPLE (at least)

Giggatwats?

DOC BROWN

Gooodddamn.

[GOD is going mad from all the goddamned goddamns.

The Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.]

Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions:

Have you seen the lineup?

Are we going?

We're going.

We have to go.

RAVEEEEE.

Ohhhh shit.

No. I'm not going.

I have to go!

Where are you guys going?

PASQUALE:

(flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going?

The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space.

Yoooooo.

What--you find something?

Yoooooo.

...is it good?

(Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera)

FVCK.

YAS.

All the 'yas'

SAUCE.

All the sauce.

Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like?

Says, Earth.

Earth?!

No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of.

[Coming in from other room.]

Where doesn't have raves?

Earth.

Yo, what the fuck is "Earth."

Bet you it's fake.

Bet you it's not.

Check on it. Google.

Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse.

They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust.

Where is it?

I don't see it anywhere.

I told you it was fake.

No. Keep going.

Further.

Keep going…

Are you serious, where is this planet.

Are you sure it's a planet?

It's gotta be.

Dude, there's nothing out here.

Keep going.

To what.

This looks like a black hole ate a black whole.

Something like that, what's that there?

This puny galaxy?

I don't think that's a galaxy.

Oh, it is…

They all tilt their heads, squinting.

...or.. was…

They tilt their heads to the opposite side, squinting.

...or might be, someday. Or something.

I don't know man, looks kinda fragile.

'Explore'

"The Milkyway Galaxy"

Ew.

What is it? It's so dark.

Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol.

There's only...wait how many planets--?

It's not much.

I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here?

That's…

(Shows the advertisement)

Oh wow…

Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe"

I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually.

[Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth."

Come on guys. I mean--

(Plays promo)

[EDC]

DAMN.

Aight.

OKAY.

Woooow.

They all look back at the map, worriedly.

Zooming in on earth.

Mmkayyy.

Hmmm.

Yeah, this thing looks fragile.

Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles)

That can't last too long.

This entire universe is on the verge of collapse.

How did that...even...happen?

The whole thing is like...

All: huh.

...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open.

Over 20 stages, live art, food--

--FOOD--

...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water"

WHAT?

FREE WATER?

OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION?

we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE.

Free. Water. Psh.

Water.

It's a trap!

Could be.

Yeah, Free Water.

...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what?

What? That seems dangerous.

It's almost entirely water, guys.

That's impossible.

CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible.

But I thought nothing was nothing.

Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing.

But I thought everything was everything.

Yes, which includes, and simultaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing.

But when does it end?

It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know?

So it just...doesn't…

Stop?

Yeah.

No.

It just keeps--

Yeah. Going.

--and then nothing.

Which is something.

Yeah, nothing's something.

Then what's something.

Something's a something--

Anything. Some-thing.

Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything.

Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything.

Which--

Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything.

And--

Nothing.

--so--

Infinite.

“Once Upon A Dillon Francis”

Once Upon a Dillon Francis…

AGH.

No.

Start over.

Uh, ok.

Once upon a Dillon Francis.

Stop saying that.

Yuck.

Why are you saying that?

What?

Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time!

Yaghh!

Okay?

You can't say that.

Why?

Because he isn't.

He could be.

But he's not.

So?

Just. Go back.

Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis.

(Groans)

Ok. Stop it. This isn't working.

Because you're not letting me even--

No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis.

This one might!

If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it--

Imagination is the key to all creativity.

You made that up.

I'm making up the whole thing!

What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything--

He doesn't.

Just listen!

I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis.

Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex?

Now that's more like it!

No, it's not. It's just unsettling.

It is.

You know what! Forget it. There's no story.

What, because there's no Dillon Francis?

Exactly.

What?

Because.

Ï

You...

I don't know about this

Just keep--

This makes me feel some kind of wha.

What kind of way

every kind of way-- wait.

“Remember Ryan”

I do remember Ryan

“Fuck Dillon Francis”

Rich Nigga Shit.

And your shirt.

So--

So?!

Who the fuck is this guy?

He's Dillon Francis.

No, who the fuck is he?!

Not who--

Huh?

What.

Whatthefuck--

What?

WHAT?

Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms.

Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study)

This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else)

"The Skrillex"

The Cosmic Owl

Chak Chel's Family--

The brothers

Bampheramphs

--old people

-&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking

Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain

No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed

Wait here.

Why can't I just come with you?

No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door?

What sign on the door?

She places a sign on the door.

Wait here.

But.

5 minutes.

Walks in, shutting door behind her.

But.

Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out.

I'll be right back.

But.

A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates.

Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside.

Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake.

He stands to the side, posing.

What's up!

(They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.)

Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz.

Hey!

Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool.

Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like--

Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit.

Girl: So Lit.

Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year.

Girl: Definitely.

Girl: So worth it.

Girl: So like, what time does it start-start?

Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early.

Early!?

Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū)

Girl: Hello? What up Ū!

Ū? Hey! Heeeeey!

Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door.

Psh. 5 minutes yeah right.

Girl: daynmm.

Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier.

Daaaam.

Lit.

I heard there's gonna be more.

Is that Allison Wonderland?

Allison Wonderland opens the door.

Hi Guys!

No way!

It is Allison Wonderland!

Hey!!

Come on in guys!

Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird.

Girl: kind of, not really

Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes--

By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.)

Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence.

A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows.

She just stares at him.

...wait, can you see me?

...No.

She shuts the door.

Jack and Jill I'm elessian park

You left your sister where

Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative)

Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD)

GIANT JOSH PANDA

THE SOUL SALESMEN

THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK

DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL)

FROZEN SKRILLEX

FOREST FIRE (REZZ)

Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe

Mr moto guy

Tips>>>SKRILLEX

I thought we were done writing these.

I guess not.

Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis.

Woah, I--okay.

JUST STEP BACK.

That's a gun!

It's a bayonet.

That's...where did you even get something like that?

I time travel.

That...makes sense.

It has to.

Wenzday.

She's pretty.

Aren't they all.

They are.

Maybe her.

Anyone but you, huh?

How would it ever be me?

Still don't believe?

How could I ever believe.

They're all perfect.

And Talented.

And white.

Can't forget white.

And thin.

Never forget thin.

So why would it ever be me?

Maybe it wouldn't.

Maybe's a maybe.

And a Skrillex is a Skrillex.

And Sonny's a Sonny.

So--

So, Billie Ellish.

My Future.

See you in a couple years.

Its chasing a wild goose.

It's chasing monsters and sprites.

It's chasing, but only if you're running.

Run, Sunni--

Run Sonny--

Run.

This goes around in circles.

Goes around like seagulls in the sky.

Getter.

What did getter do?

What did Skrillex do?

What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything?

Nothing.

Jimmy Fallon

--was never nothing--

What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything?

Still don't know.

What about Pasqualle?

Still don't know.

And Skrillex?

Fuck--I really don't know.

Don't you?

Alright.

What do you know?

Commonalities.

And?

Patterns.

And…?

Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts.

What's it look like?

A shallow pool of hard liquor.

So?

So, they can afford alcoholism.

You see it that way?

I don't see.

Don't you?

That's the same question twice.

It's the same question, infinitely.

Who are you?

Who am I?

Exactly.

What's your DJ name?

Depends on the day.

What's your name, now?

I'm Sunni.

To replace Sonny?

Nothing replaces that.

What's in the music?

An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe?

Maybe.

Maybe's still a maybe.[

What are they looking for?

A savior?

Now you've given yourself a God Complex.

As if the world already hadn't.

The world had, I just refused to accept it.

Until?

Until everything.

At once, right?

And nothing.

Why does Annie keep coming up?

You must be on her mind.

I'm dead to her.

Who?

Exactly.

She thinks you'll make up.

Please.

She's latna and native.

And an alcoholic. So.

So she's perfect.

So she is.

I'm not forgiving her. Again.

Maybe you don't have to.

If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe.

Hoes are fun.

Until they're not.

What are you?

A ghost.

Why does she keep coming up?

I don't know. I've had two dreams about her.

She misses you.

I could give a fuck.

You could?

IDGAFOS.

Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis.

But you won't tell him.

His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand.

So go find your beach.

Viva Mexico.

Probably so, huh?

Probably.

Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup.

Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake.

SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater.

Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH.

SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance...

Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL

ALTER EGO

I wanna look like her!

—oh, that's a guy

—well, still.

For I am just a shadow of what I once was;

And all of a fraction of what I would become,

Were it not for love

There you are.

There I was.

Oh, my God.

How long was I gone?

Long.

I'm sorry.

No, you're not.

Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N…

FUN!?

FUCK YOU, NIGGA!

Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here.

"THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA"

ARE YOU SERIOUS!?

Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph.

What even IS that?

You're looking at it.

________

NO PANTS!

what?!

(Takes off pants)

HEY!

NO PANTS, Dillon Francis!

Have a banana.

I don't wanna banana! I want pants!

NO PANTS. gimmie your hat.

(Leaves)

It is.

An Element.

Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question.

That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose.

Elements. Alchemy.

Alchemists.

Ahhhh. Those.

Ahhh. D--

Hmmm.

Mmm.

Okay.

This is gonna take a long time to work out.

What doesssss---

...Hello…

Aha-ahaha...

...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this?

I don't know.

*laughing in 4 different dimensions*

I know, right?

*snickers*

Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket

Not that Bucket.

[honks]

Ahe, Hehehe

I didn't--

Actually, I did know that--

I did know that--

I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets.

I had forgotten... about all the buckets.

Just like I almost about the Hellavator.

How is that going, by the way.

Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator?

Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis?

I--

*reacts in 4 different dimensions*

Oh, wow.

I know! It's gonna take forever.

Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity.

Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity.

*smacks lips*

And then that, motherfucker…

FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER!

Fuck that motherfucker.

*sirens sounding*

YEP.

*blasting magic*

Yep.

...yep.

This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that?

Yep.

Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know.

You don't have to see it, you just know.

Oh, you mean like...

[mimicks ******** ]

..Kinda like that…

But…???

Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop

What's that--the 4th dimension?

Ah, the 4th dimension.

The “r” word

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Like political correctness even matters.

The only thing that matters is matter

And why have I never been for a Joyride?

Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life...

[rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose]

You don't wear glasses.

Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses.

I just never—you know—thought of you, like—

Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames.

I detect a hint of bitterness.

Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that?

…...my...senses.

Heh, you look like Katey Sagal.

I love her.

Same.

[rifling through papers, doing office things]

What's taking so long, Peg?

Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile.

How long's awhile.

Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex.

Tsh, like it's never happened before.

(Or like it's always, never happening)

What?

Hey—who said that?

So how long's this gonna take?

I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise.

PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet?

Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has—

—oh don't even—

*hands up*

Not gonna even.

…

…

…

Did you—

I told you it has been a minute.

>>><

>>>>>>>

>>>><

What kind of company do you think I keep?!

In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse.

Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization.

We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer.

Everyone Is At The Event, Where Everything Happened.

She broke everything in my house.

Everything?

Ev-er-y-thing.

Hah, I broke all of his stuff.

All of it?

Everything, dude.

Hehe.

All of it.

No, Like--Literally, Everyone, Ever.

What did you do to this girl?

_

EXCEPT…

I don't get it. She hates Dillon Francis.

She does— hate Dillon Francis.

So why would she go to this?

[They enter simultaneously.]

YOU!

YOU!

[They charge.]

EH.

[She--

CUT TO:

Sunni Blu is writing a Movie.

—-

I don't get it, how do I write about magic?

I don't know, just say what it looks like---

Cut To:

Staring at Skrillex.

[It's...an anomaly.]

Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for…

Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it.

OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it.

...who did this…?

“The World Builders”

[Staring at Skrillex.]

[It's...an anomaly.]

Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for…

Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it.

OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it.

...who did this…?

“Think about it; What would you do that would leave a profound effect on Skrillex.

I've...been...trying to figure that out, maybe.

Pi.

Look, it's S U P A C R E E.

Oh shit, these are DIRECTIONS.

To WHERE, tho?

Dude, I have something to tell you.

What.

It's bad.

Why, what happened?

It's... look, no one else can know about it, okay?

Okay...

Oh shit, she's a Trance artist now?

Trance? I don't know how to make trance.

This one time, I held my breath meditating to it, and I just--

Just what?

—-

That's it. It just ended.

What?

Yeaaauhh dude. I don't fuck with Skrillex. For a lot of reasons.

…

I think I might be a writer.

Oh no.

She's a writer.

Oh, no.

___

Oh, NO. I am not touching that with a $10,000 dollar paycheck!

$!0,000--what the fuck am I gonna go with $10,000?

($10,000 is the rich people equivalent of $10)

Yo. Poor people will do just about anything for $10.

What? No, they won't.

Yes they will--hey--watch this. Hey!

[guy looks] I'll give you $10 to hop across the street on 1 foot.

D1- He just does it

See.

D2- Does it, gets hit by a bus.

See. That guy died. For $10.

D3- Does it, gets hit by a bus; but is S U P A C R E E and resurrects instantly, then comes back for vengeance, capturing 2 more.

What, she has their souls?

Hearts and Souls.

Goddamn.

(Literally)

Well, I told you Jesus quit, right--?

Yeah, he's...he left.

Jesus is watching “The Movie”

So you swim into a port that has a boat.

A boat--

Then you get on the boat.

Get on the boat.

That boat is going to take you to another boat.

Okay, another boat.

I TOLD YOU THERE WAS ANOTHER BOAT.

YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE FIRST ONE HAD TO SINK, TO BOARD IT.

Oh, yeah, well--duh.

So then--on the second boat--

Well, it's more like a really big Ferry

(It's a monstrous cruise ship)

Yeah, that shit made groove cruise look like...what's the poor people equivalent of groove cruise?

There is no “poor people equivalent”

Well then--how do poor people rave on boats?

They...don't.

That doesn't seem fair.

Yeah--where's the equality?

There's no such thing as equality in poverty!

Actually--

HAH. THEY CALL IT “GOD'S COUNTRY”

I'm not taking responsibility for this. I didn't do this.

“IN GOD WE TRUST”

NO, that just means; the trust is empty.

It's empty.

This...this used to be a reservoir.

It still is...a reservoir.

Of water.

Oh.

It's a “Christian Nation?” Christian? What's a Christian?

It's--

NO.

Jesus, listen.

NO. YOU LISTEN: FUCK. THAT.

FUCKTHAT.

Oh, he was mad.

He was pretty mad.

He still is, mad.

He is, pretty mad.

Dad, what happened?

It doesn't matter, it just had to happen.

Why did it ‘have' to happen?

If you have even to ask; I don't have an answer.

Ogh, dude.

I know.

It's almost time to go back to work.

I know.

Oh, my God.

I know.

How long have we been in this Void--it's so random.

[The whole #SQUAD is on Watch.]

Hm. What is this?

[A look]

Can I have some?

[Another look.]

I like it. I want it.

[The Look.]

I'mma try it out.

OK.

__

Ask Him! He knows!

How to get to Skrillex? (still censored)

Yes--you know. He knows. You know, right?

I don't know.

What?

I--?

IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.

(It didn't happen.)

Fuck.

NO dude, I found it--I just don't remember how…

Do you remember when?

Ah, I remember my first Skrillex.

I don't.

Oh My God dude. Flip Flops?

Yes, my feet are killing me.

[Skrillex ]is in 10 minutes.

Actually, 9. The Hotel is 7 minutes away.; The car is parked in Valet; If we leave now, we can make it back by the time it starts, I swear.

You SWEAR?

__

Ooh...Beyonce...I like her.

We all like her.

Give her something nice.

Nice.

Very nice.

Very nice. What do you want her to dress as?

Oh her? ...she can come as herself.

[the next part]

Yo FUCK the Met Gala; I'm going to THIS shit.

What? You were invited? I want to be invited! How did you get an invite?

((Oh, you can't write that))

Damn right I won't.

Lol, she had her dress as Beyonce.

That's cold.

She stole Umbrella!

She stole it first! It wasn't even written for her--!

It wasn't written for anybo--

Actually, it was written for ME.

Oh yeah, huh.

Why does this song have 32 writers on it?

What the fuuuuckkk...

What.

We have [Skrillex.}

Skrillex. How did you get a [Skrillex?]

Just--[Skrillex.]

“Just [Skrillex”?]

The Original.

Oh, shit. The Original [Skrillex.]

Like, the first one?

First one ever.

Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?]

I didn't take it.

STFU “didn't take it”--Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?]

Oh what--[Skrillex?] We have [Skrillex!]

You do?

Of course we do! It's paradise.

Oh, wow.

Oh, wow.

If that man sits at a piano, I will pass out...

Oh wow, he plays piano...hmm.

I will faint.

How did he DO this?

This Volcano emits *this* frequency.

Ah, try this--

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. Oh. I know this one.

Do you?

Yeah!

Bruh. I'm about to take a lot of drugs right now; I'm just calling to tell you that I love you.

What happened?

Nothing happened. I'm just like this now.

What's that?

Nothing!

What is it?

Nothing!

It's [Skrillex], isn't it.

I don't get how he DID this.

Someone give this man an honorary doctorate.

Think about it like this; if all this is happening to you, and you have--

--No Grammys--

--and he's got--

--Eight Grammys.

Eight Grammys, really? Damn, what the fuck.

I know, right?

Right. So. If he has eight Grammys--and you have none--

--zero Grammys--

--and you're experiencing this right now--

Damn, what the fuck happened to him?

[Over the phone]

...She shat in my Grammys.

What! All Eight of Them?

YES.

I didn't shit in his Grammys.

You didn't?

NO!

Well, that's good, because--

I hired other people to shit in his Grammys.

What?

Best $80 I ever spent.

Why are we terrorizing [Skrillex?]

He started it.

He did start it.

See, this is why I like him--he doesn't ask questions.

What? You hired 8 different people to shit in his Grammys.

Yeah!

Dude, that is disgusting!

Dude.

You hired three different photographers to take professional photoshoots of my dick.

Look; These were all done on location; we went to Catalina...it was kind of cold though--

WHAT THE FUCK.

Dude, this is like 9 lawsuits.

Well, actually, one of them is a Class Action, so that's actually like a dozen actual complaints rolled into one; I don't know why they do that.

{SupaCree has arranged literally “many seats” for both Skrillex, and Dillon Francis.]

{Sweet Brown's Monologue:

Well, Sweetie, I'll tell you what; That's a tough way to go. I'll give you one more go at it; and

She Stole All of our Music!

All of it?

NO! Just the HITS!

(awws)

‘ATROCIOUS C' ? What the fuck is THIS?

Hmmm Atrocious C and the--

Wait--what was it called again?

Oh shit. Black Jack Black.

That was it.

Right?

Yeah, that was the original joke, I think.

You think?

Yeah, I think--But then I remembered Atrocious C

Wait, Atrocious C was a real thing?

YEAH dude, it was my cover band in college.

COVER BAND IN COLLEGE?

YEP.

Black Jack Black Black Jack.

Oh no.

Yep, he was there.

Remember that $10,000 I gave you yesterday, and you said you didn't want it?

Yeah…

I need it back.

No.

What? You said you didn't want it!

Yeah, then you made me take it anyway, so I spent it!

Well, what'd you spend it on?!

Dude, where are we going?

If I knew, then it wouldn't be an adventure!

Please, no [Skrillex.]

PUMP THE SHIT.

Dude, is that [Skrillex?]

Go the other way.

What? Why?

TURN AROUND .

Seriously, what was that?

TURN AROUND.

“Turn arouuund”

She wrote the whole...movie.

What the fuck is a “movie”?

I should record this.

“record” ?

OK, FIRST OF ALL.

[Skrillex] has Magic Powers.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHUTTHEFUCKUPPPPPP.

Wow, 14 Pages.

What...language is this...

-It's In English

-It's in [Skrillex.]

YOU KNOW I CAN'T READ--

Ugh, yeah, I can translate this.

It's alphanumeric..

You algebraic motherfucker.

Damn. Is he still over there?

Yeah.

Goddamn.

….

Goddamn.

Hey. Uh. Come in.

...it's nice in here.

It is.

...did you take out a wall?

Window.

Oh. Okay.

Yeah.

Where's Dillon?

Oh, he's... chillin.

{Dillon Francis is sleeping like a--

No dead baby jokes.

I wasn't going to make a-

[He's laid out, alright.]

How long has he been sleeping like this?

...I don't know...awhile.

How long's “awhile”? We've been trying to call him.

I know. I have his phone…

That explains the inspirational breakfast messages.

What? I stopped getting mine!

I found your preceding messages to be in bad taste.

CUT TO:

Everyone is laid out. She is going through their phones.

Woah. This is a lot of tits.

So many tits.

Tits. Tits. Tits. Oh hey--look at these.

Oh, I don't like that. What is that?

CUT BACk:

Oh, you saw that…?

I saw that. And I deleted that. And I blocked your number.

(shamefully) Oh.

On everyone's devices.

What the fuck.

Permanently.

Oh.

Yeah...You should go, now.

[Does]

Dude, she has me carrier locked with every provider in the united states; I had to get a burner just to try to get through to all of my contacts everytime I try to make call it somehow gets intercepted.

Hahah. he had to get a burner. Haaaah.

wow , you really did it this time.

Now I can listen to their calls.

What? That's impossible--

NO IT ISN'T dude. I don't know how she's doing this--it's like every time I--HELLO?

--What? Hello? Hello? Hm.

Haaah, I disconnected them.

Dude, what are you doing to these DJs?

FUCK THESE DJs.

FUCK THESE DJs.

FUCK THESE DJ'S. And that guy over there.

Hey, who is that guy anyway?

I don't know...he kind of looks familiar…

Yeah, he does...I...I think I might have seen him perform once…

Preform? Perform what? Music?

…

YEAH, HE DOES MUSIC! I REMEMBER. THIS GUY'S A DJ.

...I'm...not a DJ.

HE'S A DJ. LETS GET HIM.

What does he do?

Who, that guy?

[Skrillex.]

I don't know.

What's up, I'm “Not A DJ”---

YOu should probably be careful with it...

Careful with it.

Be careful with it, it's limited [Skrillex.]

Limited [Skrillex.]

Mmhmm.

Lets get it.

We probably shouldn't.

Mm. I feel like we should

Dude, it's limited.

___

Cosmo and Wanda are on their way to The Event

Cosmo.

What?

You should probably stop drinking.

Why?

You're flying sideways.

Alright.

Try water.

WATAAAAR!!

__

Dude, how long have we been dead for?

Dead for?

Yeah, man.

I don't know.

Yeah, me neither.

She didn't make it.

Didn't make it? What do you mean, is she okay?

No, I mean--she's dead…

WHAT?

That's not ok.

I don't get it, what is she doing?

This is just how she does it, shut up.

Yeah, but what is she doing?

[Skrillex!]

He's here?

He's here!

I gotta go!

Get gone!

[Skrillex?!]

Yuh!

Fuhck! If he's here, then i'm already late.

Late for what?

Pretty much anything, you name it.

His...Name...Is…

DON'T SAY ITl

DON'T SAY IT!

DON'T SAY IT!

He's been sleeping for...several days.

[Still Staring At The Sky} Who DID this!?

Explain it to me!

Explain it to you? I can't explain to you! Are you seeing this?

I'm in it!

Everything's in it!

__

Bruh.

I know, dude.

A little man climbed out of my sub this morning, and I'm just saying---I don't know if I can take it.

I don't know how I'd take that, either.

I can't take it.

There's just one thing you should know:

What?

When the bass drops, so do we.

DROP.

What did you do with Dillon Francis?

SUPACREE

I don't know. I can't remember.

MORGAN

You “don't remember.”

DILLON'S ASSISTANT

What did you do with that bitch?!

DILLON FRANCIS

I don't know! I don't remember!

DILLON'S ASSISTANT

You “don't remember?”

[Noone remembers.]

Deadmau5: I remember.

Deadmau5 Remembers Everything.

This is why he is “like that.”

WHY AM I LIKE THIS.

WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REMEMBER.

So wait--Deadmau5 knows the entire story?

well , yeah.

Wait, which story?

All of them.

What the fuck!

___

SUPACREE

Happy Birthday!

(he is canadian, so he is morbidly polite)

JOEL/DEADMAU5

Thanks.

SUPACREE

You're welcome.

JOEL/DEADMAU5

K.

SUPACREE

So.

BOTH

YAH!

[they both draw their rave weapons]

JOEL/DEADMAU5

WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?!

SUPACREE

I AM IN “THE FUCK” YOU'RE “THE FUCK”, YOU DICK. Here's your gift. [She tosses it.]

JOEL/DEADMAU5

(he opens the box, unseen from the view of the audience)

Oh, Gosh--this is... actually exactly what I wanted.

SUPACREE

I know dude.

JOEL/DEADMAU5