{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: THE LEGEND CONTINUES}

Hi, I'm Blū (DJ Ū or simply -Ū.) (pronounced “you”) and you can access my music catalogue on YouTube at https://www.YouTube.com/@thefestivalproject and my new website www.iamu.guru has a little more information about my project. I am also on Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Music and Tidal as well and you can find the links to those platforms on my linktr.ee/codenameblu

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

She's possessed by the devil

The bitch doesn't have a soul

She needs fuel from the source of light

She doesn't have her own

She's consumed

She's consumed

She's a portal to the underworld

And if you want to fuck with her

Then you'll be leaving under earth

She's the devil in a costume

A Satan in a bad place

She says she wants to help you

But can't even help herself

She's stalking in the corridor

A next to murder horror show

The whore who stole your husband;

But she leave a pretty note

She's tasteless, she's tasteless

She's wasteful, she's hateful

She's evil

She's bleeding you dry at every angle

Needing you for your ways

She's crazy

Leading you astray

She's the face of the dark days;

The devil in magistrate

Hey;

I've been

Having a hard time lately

Find I

Can't

Transmute this

Skip this track

or mute this

music is black

I feel useless

Demons seem to attack

Where the booth is

Speaking of toothless,

I'm lit fuses

past two muses

Oops

Nothing is new

Just confused it

Oh well

Turn off my bluetooth;

Now i'm in a few spins

Dinner is legumes

and the blues

I get consumed

When the u hits

Fuck it

Too many matches for the

Mystical

Rich and famous is

Just the beginning

Too many of us struggle with the nothing and the lovelessness

But listen

Guess it just gets better

With every hit record

Till you make no record

But you're still a whole legend: sensation

Couldn't finish the new one

(For the record)

Cause I hate him

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

I want to scream at you

But even standing at my shoulder length

My eye at your chest.

You'd be a million miles away

Look what I make of you.

I have no mistakes left and still

The fate of it is that,

You have my gratitude, your gracious

And yet they eat away

At all the things I have

And maybe there'll be more of me

For now the morbid days are just as caving in as

Any other making that we make of it

Don't thank me,

Just outrank them.

Banking on your every moment

Effervescent, tragic endings

Waiting on your every scent and center

Don't disintegrate just yet

And now we enter impact

Stand for circumstances

Do work faster

Horror horror

Do you know the motive of her

Former engines?

Motive, motive

Steer the plot or rear the message m

Fritter fritter

Audiences get disinterested

So effing quickly.

Would you mild or would you mold

Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon,

Bread, and then tomato—

Would you fear her message?

Would you quick forget you're on her planet?

Surely safe to know

But know but knots

And no but not again

You bought it with your faux and auctions

Hallmark cards

And feathers fauxes

Don't you know

The faucet's only running water

Oh you're hard predictable

And chlorinated

Oh the poison

Dripping at your ways

And wilting at your guilt

The James

The reckon gestures

Reckon, Avery

Severed by the check

Or just the ever ending

Never get there

Message to a friend

To just keep going

When she ends it

It is just another death

You'll get on with it

In the end

Never friends.

Never.

Good I hate you

Could you maybe

Find me ugly?

That's your money in my

Every reaching corner

Every angling cent

And harsh presentations of

Skin that's aging and

Wages which haven't

Coverage to front the

Expenses,

Crash diets

Go broken

Ugly cause you're course

Everything fits

But still empty on the inside

I live in shredded

Shambles of service

But there's no gratitude

My breath is only your own

And this bread is my headache

I haven't a sermon

Or diamond

Or unworthy

Sex appeal

And really only

Ever off when

Only ever on

You're still demolishing the board

You're still diminishing the severs

Yet you neglected

Each and every

Crevice of this

Never ending friendship—

But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper

For each and every person ever

Just to wish one?

Did it ever occur to you

The circumstances you are under r

Live for it

Or get lost

There's really only porridge in her oven

If the gas or turning off or over

Don't turn over now

The resin's covered in the

Corvette.

Only cause I had to

Sense when is it

Blood sense.

Get laid

Don't flinch

Get paid

Gold finch

Get reckless

I call spirits north for dinner

South for lunch

And up for porridge at breakfast

I've passed on

I've been awake

You're mortal girl

The one you're on is

Really only such a small pond

That I should think

To cover up

With dirt.

Start over.

—and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games.

Worst dream ever.

But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me?

I'm guessing he always was!

He's people are just like that

All conservative, conformed—

Again, it's not your fault

It's just uncomfortable!

Again I only ever approached it wanting to know

If the l broach l fits

But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her—

Probably don't even got the right number

Code of arms

Or helm of awe, huh.

Fuck, man.

When's Tonight Show in hiatus

Need you off the island, off In Prague

And out my anus,

Don't remind me

I've been

Jamie Lee Curtis

Just recently enough

That I miss it.

Ugh.

I know,

I resent that.

Find a line to draw

Or fly a kite past

I'm past my reckoning

Just for tonight,

The suffering ends

Surely not enough to past the time

Before my electrolytes fly in

But tonight

Just tonight

I want to dine in my mind

Or die alone

Without trying to find the light—

The neighbor simply seems to follow it.

(At least I got her ought to not slam the door now,

Police interventions,

There really are cause for those.)

What is a warfare!

Buy me a checkmark!

My question mark seems to go off a lot

All for it

God,

You're remarkable

I gift a heart or though

I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza

But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis?

There those eyes are again;

I hate to hurt you North;

But I'm no mother board

Or mother ship

Or Mother Earth

Broke my focus long enough to call you up,

But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious.

Nothing's safe for us, you know.

One one to call;

No code of conduct–

No safety in numbers, or color guard

No home, and no love in our times

For our kind–

We're all here now

And the wrong time

Is all time.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Do you see me?

I don't not see you.

Well.

Well.

I thought there'd be more having to say.

There's nothing to say.

Not nothing…

Nothing.

Huh.

—unless you say it.

I've nothing to say.

Then say nothing.

The frog croaks,

The oak leafs,

The custard leaves its corridors

The hark leaps

The oath melts,

The sworn have sworn

To never mark.

To no remose,

To no remark;

The carrier, and carry her—

The fierce need,

For Vegabonds,

For every caper read

Amen.

All is spoken;

And all in thought also in words

All is listened

And all has heard not in her form

Stiff.

You're horrified.

You're horrifying.

Sure, but—

Brother—

Broken—

Nothing that I've never heard before

Capable.

Half-friend.

Northerner.

Cape cod.

Hamptons.

Fair straights.

Ancient.

Sacred.

R I T U A L S

LEGENDS:

R I T U A L S

OH GOD.

No! NO! NO!

It just keeps going!

Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over.

You were invoked.

I was implicated.

Fun fact:

Here's the thing.

You were murdered.

Ah, gains.

Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens?

Cause you don't.

This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of—

STEPHEN COLBERT enters.

*shattered.

Shithead.

STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered.

—I was shattered when I heard about it.

What's that?

Never you mind.

I didn't— I just— asked.

He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided.

Capable.

And still there's nowhere

In here

The city we share

I can go

To make the sound

Eager to leave my soul

As how

I know you.

Awkward!

Just wait.

You've been betrayed!

I— know that already.

Is this your card?

{Enter The Multiverse}

GET OFF THE TRAIN.

—

Lil bitz

Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty.

Why.

You never look innocent at all.

If something went down — I know it was you.

Hide a lie;

Can't hide a lie

Can't tell a tell

Can't roll the ball

Can't bowl the strike

Can't run at all

Can't fool the hare

Can't skin the cat

Can't dance a bit

Don't row the boat

Can't play the role

Don't know the tune

Can't trim the tree

Can't hold the bowl

Can't kill the fowl

Don't tell the tale.

Hide a lie.

Run a mile

Taste the bile

Fill the basket

Now you're moron

Now you're mortal

That's immoral

Jimmy Fallon

—that's a turtle.

Tell the lie.

Hide the fold.

Kill the curse;

Sail the ark

Fill the void

Hate the gap

Kill the king

Tell the tale

Tell a lie

Hide the

[The Festival Project ™]

knife.

In for life, or what?

Info wars at most.

Live to tell the tale?

Learn to spike the punch

Learn to punch the wall

Lean up on the door

Learn to most of all

Shut the fuck up

Keep your mouth shut

I love New York

Give the bad news

Put a smile on

Oh you gotta love it

I get close to nothing once a month

And then come back

To pull the puffer out the dragon

Goddammit what you want me for

I learned another lesson

Don't devour her

All I wanted was

Just a sour odor

Give the last call

I go heroin blind

For heroine times

And by the time it all gets darker

I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in

Permanent marker.

ugh. Fuck you.

Fuck The Doors.

Fuck your chorus.

Fuck your archer.

Fuck, you found I.

I all for her,

Shoot the wombat;

—But the door shuts on its own

Without it getting harder, now.

Don't it?

Donut.

i don't—

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

I—

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

I—

Belt Buckle

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

I don't—

Belt buckle—

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Okay.

I—

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

I—

Belt Buckle

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

I don't—

Belt buckle—

Belt buckle.

Belt buckle.

Can I contour?

Not even one episode

Or epicenter

Even for a lonely

I got the warning

For your magnitude before

So what you want

It's just a test

Pacific coast

Or night crawler

Nightmare or

Nightfall

You swore you won't

I do desire not a lover

But a hand to hold

And father for my own

So.

Shove it up your

Probably want a

I don't need disaster warning

What you wanted

Limoncello

Light waves

And light gave a damn

I have a dance

I cave to for

And there you are

Just a horrible oar,

Now I row the boat

But you don't disaster

Nor could you decide to divorce her

Even if I ever worked

At Art gallery

Organizers

God, you wore her sweater

Just to make it all seem rather backwards

If perchance I ran my hand just over

All the soft

Love in the world

Are you not a dozen roses?

To far my flames

I gave you my heart

Flower

Done moving

Don't moon

Did you really pay the neighbor

Just to hate me

Haven't you heard

On our earth

There's turf war?

So far, white doves

But no lost wolves,

Poor pigeons, following

Of course you were hard wired

I hate not once

But all times the hurt

Each time I struck

Sure I want for California

And Equinox saunas

And then no more do I run the tub!

But for now as I soak and the roach prowls,

I get my motion under the water,

Sure form and no more fire till the moon comes up who rose at dusk?

Likely or lite brawl

Sire,

You care to hard work

But you desire awful

I was right in all forms

Now I die here

Your knife and all you are

Feels right as blood pours out

I want but only suffer

Your call could only burden

My tie to fall a lark

Cries

Out

In

To

Her

Arms you fall and I desire

I desire

I now

Have a heart to cry

I died, sir.

You won.

How awful.

Just a nugget of truth,

This window of lies,

A mask so broken

And yet in the cracks there, my mirror

My shadow

My hard times

Out to work

And off to war

And what you wanted

No, not outside

Inside love

But nevermind that

Now the blood pours out and sweet,

I thank to this relief and finally

Rest, I.

No longer shall I mourn your love to not

And know the guilt is slain in you anew, my heart

Dear shadow, youth becomes my blood

And dear far cry,

Dear boy you,

Wait to know me in again another

There came and withered and your force

Now knows mine,

Never end and tethered,

There I wait, then

Now I blood and dreaming, sleeping in

Your pure,

Decency.

I have strike and so wait my end;

And you, go on,

Now without my voice.

A harp.

Welcome to Ecuador.

What are you doing here?

I grow bananas.

Every once in awhile

I have you over

For a cocktail

Or five.

Every night

I tighten my eyes on you,

Thoughts.

Every space in time

Is just a collar

Dog

A bark.

Every time you call

I still come over

Though you do not want,

I opposite.

You see,

You are time.

I see you now, God.

I feel your heart, I

Can involve

My lips quaking

Your worried me

My fall, right?

Why—

I belong in your eye,

Why,

Heart my home,

I,

Never go.

Never not.

Bullet to a gun

For to wish I'm not awake

And to dream though seek, I call

And to worry

Wishes swimming

Thunder rolls and

Hard I fall

So wait and weather

Weather storm

And feather.

You know I'm locked, and fault

Too consumed by news cameras

Noise tied around my,

Neck your beck and call

My battered back

And there is she

All I am not

And movement,

You controller

Red and virtuous

Are thy neither my friend,

Nor foe,

Nor narrow and the neck, dripping

The feet, and defeated I am in my shallow

Your wish is my make her

I make thy for glory

She the golden trophy,

Truth, you will not with,

These, you will decanter

Encounter; or

I slay you in my motion

I say your name and sheild thy slain

And there you are, a force

And here she comes, a brain

My greying matter;

Your Tuesday, Wednesday

She fears me not

One, two, four blue eyes

I'm nothing now

Six blondes, four heartaches

I rung, you wanted

I eat, you shatter

I starve, you know me

Then in the waste

My waist till not your honor

And so, I go

And she

And she

And she

And she

Eighty five and one divine

But all are yours

And yours are mine

So then.

We have killed her.

And there, she lay slain,

And ye, we rejoice

And yet, we became

To seize, none has not

To breathe, yet remains—

The truth comes our time,

As body decays.

Fuck. I don't think that was it.

Nevermind.

*fixed it .

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

I don't want to feel you

I don't want to know you

I don't want to lay here

By your side

As you cry

At night

I don't want to feel you

I don't want to love you

I don't want to owe you a letter

I don't want to decay you

Don't you know

That I have

Already betrayed you

You don't.

You don't know anything

Your pretty little words are just

The fear in my heart

[The Festival Project ™ ]

Turns out,

I only sing when I'm sad

I feel bad when I'm in trouble

Can't escape but have to smoothie it

Stroke the engines

But I tend to choke otherwise

Nothing right now sounds better than chocolate

I suppose

I'll settle on

Some Simple structure

I suppose

I'll get along

With

Why can't I be the girl in the songs that they sing about!

Can't get it out of my head

But still I sing along

As if the skinny pretty

Fragile porcelain things

They need

And sing about

Could ever be me

She could never be me

So I'm evil

But she's the straight up devil

Yes I strain to smile

But rarely do I sprain and ankle

I've been praying for departure

The city, country is just torture

I should really comb my hair though

I tend to cry my eyes out

Then pretend I'm not

But you're pretentious

I can't even get a job.

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Yesterday I jogged 3 miles watching 30 Rock.

I don't know where I've gone besides deeper in my mind and somehow further from The Rock itself.

Maybe I should turn my treadmill facing west.

Running in the direction of Queens is bringing me extreme discomfort.

This is at the level of functionality that everything seems impossible.

I'm tired from the moment I wake up, and yet struggle to fall asleep, even in the earliest of morning when I know the only quiet in the day will come.

Everything is upsetting, and I miss my mantras;

But nothing comes but the silence of the brain

When I'm not filling the void with sitcom antics and the subtle romance.

Tales of a Superstar DJ

The Complex Collective © Copyright 2019

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Lil bitz

I applied for a job as a high end furniture sales person.

Then they asked how much experience I had in high end furniture sales.

I told them five.

“I consider myself high-end furniture.”

{Enter The Multiverse}

ROBERT DINERO

You are you very well behaved.

Who'd you get.

‘Science.'

Physics?

No, it just says “science”

Oh, I get it…

What's to get.

You're in the—ahem—

What is it?

Special class.

What.

Guess what.

[the class sits in confused silence.]

YOU are special!

[they remain silent]

You are all special!

[nothing]

You are special—

You are special—

Thanks, T. I owe you one.

One doesn't cover it!

L E G E N D S

—especially you, Jimmy.

Which one?

The teacher looks over the roll; there are three pages of ‘Jimmy', many of whom even have the same last initial.

…all of you.

[The Festival Project ™]

WILL FERREL has changed his do-rag, but not the attitude, or somewhat offensive cultural habits that seem to have come with it.

You better come correct!

I am correct!

Oh god. Is this what that dream meant.

Somebody's been having lucid dreams.

…so let's talk about this.

I would rather not.

I tend to treat my podcast audience like a therapy session. That way they know I'm messed up and broken just like them— like everybody else.

But somehow, that doesn't translate onstage.

It's Tuesday.

I know that.

Turn over, Timmy!

No way!

Just do it!

JOSH is certain “Timmy Turner” is actually his old pal DRAKE; he'll only know for sure, however, by checking that he still is branded, with the scar from “the bull riding incident

Are we doing a flashback.

Not yet, but maybe— I don't know if we can afford it,

I said NO.

Please.

Negatory.

{Entet the Multiverse}

Scribble scribble;

I love Jimmy Kimmel

I just put the joker to the riddle

Dribble dribble

Ball like Jimmy Kimmel

I just put the cat onto the fiddle

I like temperature like double digits

I get mentions every time I finish

Had to cut my mama off

Cause it don't matter

Had to cut my neighbor off

That's a door slammer

Had to file a report

That'sadult matters

Cause I'm building a rapport—

That a dope mansion

I be keepin it dark;

That I don't mention

I ain't in the army

But I give em my attention

That's a limp biscuit

I did it then I didn't

Impress if I'm presenten'

Depressessed if I'm regressan

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Complex Collective ©

[The Festival Project ™]

-Ū.

Suddenly seeing in these sepia tones

Stuck up in a glass house

But I throw stones

Hold up I lost something

This brother says stuff like he's not done yet

I'm really not the one yet

Haven't gotten up yet

Long ass nap

Like a death coma

I regret Roma

Only cause I end up a New Yorker

More work but yet broker

Unless you corrupt

Or a stock broker

Believe it

Thanks for dancing on my grave.

That really made me take a second thought to give it another go,

So you wanna be a movie star, ah?

I am— already a star.

But a movie star.

{Enter The Multiverse}

Look, this is your third wife already!

Watch it!

You should be behind bars!

Well why aren't I, then?

I was trying to be polite!

Be quiet, then.

Look—

Food, please.

There is no amount of damage control you can run on this— it's out of your control.

(Eating uncontrollably, mouth full.)

Nothing is out of my control.

I said—

Nothing!

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project, Inc. ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

I know the man in the chair

By his eyes

And the course of the road

And the cause of his numbers,

I know very odd, very sure, very well— and yes,

I know the strings, and the things

And the force of control

And the conduct, the code

Yes, I know not to leave him alone

And we're all full of wonder, here

Of the wonder years,

But where are you, dear?

Cause it's four in the morning—

I'm cold, and I'm lonely—

I'm shocked and forgotten

It's four in the morning

And no,

I'm still not going home.

It's four in the morning

And only just know have I thought

Or a plate full of warmth

And the touch of her fondness

But all oaths,

Cause I took a lover this morning

Another tomorrow

And on, look—

I can't come home until Sunday

(What? I'm building you up!)

And I know I've gone soft

But you know not to

Dollop until I tell you I'm coming

Don't you!

That's a gallop;

There's a Dillon

Where I dare you;

Did you hear ‘em?

These are harems

There's a villain forming

A sweet informant

A node oriental

And no, I meant all of the foam drip on coffee

It's

Not

Out

Of

Bounds until I say you will

My daffodil

Then I fold you into pieces

With my peace

It says

“I'm eating you for supper”

Here goes Saturday for nothing

I still haven't made the cast list

Don't get so far up your marker

That you forgot

That the stars are all going under

Burning out

And ownership of businesses

Other than subscription payments

Mortgages and high interests—

Give the internet good riddance

Or else get lost

Like your appendix

This is

Kurt Sutter?

No, John Carson!

You think you're smart for a marker

And sabertooth tiger

I got no arguments besides building monuments

You wanted us?

Worshipped!

Now all of a sudden while on earth

All reincarnated at once

Almost all of ye's study or praise

No Gods, though you walk among us!

Keep it open

sesame seed buns

I haven't seen you

In your open

No subtronics

I don't bother

No blue eyes

Tight skin

Small stomach

Thin waste

Paper

See through

Just waste

Wait

I'm a trash bag

Non returnable

No refundable

Still not gonna do you harm enough

If you didn't bought it

Still though

Awful convenience

Here's my sandwhich

I just backed up into a fire hydrant

High as a kite

But you all know

I'm so much hotter and fun

Than the other one—

Goddamn,

But at least she's funny

And as long as you want me first

I'll love you and her

Forever.

—Annie.

Don't got a gun;

Then I'd be gone

I don't belong here

I write songs for a living

You know;

No more home for you!

No more going nowhere

If you don't wear Prada

Here yellow canary

You're only a little pretty bird

Cause if I hear you stop singing at all

I know we're all done for—

Run!

It's a gas le—

(AK)

[They blow up. ]

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

flash— bang

Can't believe I'm lying there like

Flash—bang

What a mess I've got us into

Flash—bang

In and out of all dimensions

I can barely pay attention

I was standing in my kitchen

Then it's straight to intermission

(Something like a nasa mission)

Flash—bang

I think this thing is dangerous

I can't sing

I'm tone deaf as Mr. Kimmel

Flash— bang

Off like a grenade

And then I'm off like Walton Goggins—

“Shane!”

Or did someone say action?!

Might be going crazy

Or just famous

Or delayed.

I'm in Grenada.

—Bird Internet.

Written by C'cxell Soleïl

Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū

-Ū.

BGI

TAPPED

Sometimes, I write in Lin cadences

Sometimes I pass time with Jim Fallon,

I write behind closed eyes and white bars,

Pigeons and white doves,

While I get made fun of

I tried to just let bygones by bygones

But I can't cause I miss my son

And there's no love in the bottom of class wars

And harsh poverty;

there's no brotherly love

And New York just don't want me here

Is this your card?!

No motherfucker!

Oh.

Goddamn.

You are bad at this.

I thought I was! I told you I was.

You are! Now, scram.

What color is your magnitude?

You failed!

I told you I don't know my own songs form Adam!

That wasn't me?

No?

Crap. It's jammed.

Well, throw a rock at him!

THE SNIPERS throw a rock at DIPLO; unassumingly and (sort of) by complete coincidence, this rock just happens to be the CAPSULOUS ILLUMINATUS—

(And he is mad.)

Huh.

Ohh. Shitballs.

(Very mad.)

Not only is he mad— which is hilarious— but as he becomes enraged, beginning to hulk out of his “zen zone”

Isn't it obvious?

Zen zone?

What a complete douchebag.

I'm so serious.

V.O

Tales of a superstar DJ

Alice In Wonderland was in my dream last night,

But she had big blonde bushy Slavic eyebrows and I just… somehow.. didn't know what to make of that.

I HAVE A TALE!

No, you don't actually.

Sit down and shut the fuck up!

BAMPHERAMPH CAMP is going splendid.

*complete decapitation*

—gorgeous.

Meanwhile.

As it turns out…

I have something to tell you.

PLAY COMPLICATIONS ONE MORE TIME. I FUCKING DARE YOU.

DEADMAU5 has created quite possibly the very first sonic time bomb—

FIRST EVER?

I TOLD YOU GET OUT OF HERE.

YES FIRST EVER.

BEFORE:

Sniffs…

Pauses

*Tiny Sips*

*sniffs again*

*squinting, dissatisfied*

…I sense Deadmau5 in this Skrillex.

BUTLER

You would be correct.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

Wait. Who the fuck is Steve Duda?

Bro, I told you my name was Steve!

OH!

Tales of a Superstar DJ

I thought you were joking.

I'm not joking. Where's the pancakes?!

I'm out!

Why is this place so clean?! Ugh!

You haven't been around— or— like—

Nonsense.

Hey wait— last time you were imaginary.

Uh, no, I wasn't.

Yes, you were literally just—

“In your head”

Yeah!

That's not a thing.

What.

Get over that.

What.

Everything is real, everything is extreme…

Are you also out of OATMEAL?

Almost, obviously!

—ly real! Ugh! And cream of wheat?

I've been— I was getting fat.

THATS HOW GOOD MUSIC IS MADE. IN STORED ENERGY.

I have—

*bacterially is critically low*

*lights flickering*

*sirens wailing*

*time crumbling*

*phone dies*

Ugh.

Look. Uh—

STEVE.

Uh…let's just say Larry—

My name is STEVE! I told you that!

I imagined you differently, okay, and I thought ‘Steve' was just deadmau5 being pranky.

It is!

What?

It's a thing! Look it up.

Oh shit. The Ace.

I told you that dude was sketchy!

Wait, which Ace.

Of Spades.

Ah shit.

Is this your—

No!

Ah?

Well, wait…

Wait what?

Wait. A second.

Wait what?

…this…that is my card.

Is it?

Yes…

*vanishes*

WHAT THE—

L E G E N D S

Our Next Segment is called

“Who wrote that joke?”

So I'm wondering about—

That Hindu joke in season 5 of 30 Rock

“Oh my God.”

“Which one? “

“I'm going to make you regret your own birth“

“Which one?”

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.

Did you ever get the feeling that it might be right?

Cause I woke up in the shit,

And then I paid attention with resentment

Had this Patrick for a second amidst the witching hour

For a glitch or an instance power,

The list, with a mix of here and now

Or here and there

Whatever you rather, Dan

But I guess for now you call me

Hamm,

Cause I will Jon' you in an hour

After all the words have been said

Over and over again, you just get cleverer with em

Face it,

This is considerable damages if by admission

I have to press this red button

Every time I take a dump

Because of these microagressions

And blatent intimidations,

Racism and hatred,

Cause somebody thinks it's okay

To attack me when I'm naked

And the justification is just that

Genetically and empathetically

One of us is deficit in the other—

Guess which one

How does it feel

To feel

And be real

Or be realized

So what's the deal

With this meal

And the plan

To dance on the attacks

Of your ancestors

What's on the middle besides resentment

And a clearer picture or each and every or other infinite spectrum?

What's the problem with the problem with the kids today?

They aren't that smart

But they sure look good

The problem is,

They're all talk,

All mouth, and no thoughts

{Enter The Multiverse}

Is there more?

It appears so.

Oh…

(He takes a long and heavy drink)

Its in here too, isn't it?

Yes, its—everywhere, sir.

All of a sudden, I'm sir to you?

I feel as though there may be some impending legal action, and I'm just asserting my loyalty and respect so as to “go down with the ship.” If need be, uh…

Well!

…sir.

You are a good page, aren't you?

I hope so.

Yeah.

[The Festival Project ™}

Ugh, I don't have time for this right now.

VICKY MANSON is gross.

She is a 45-year-old chain smoking trailer trash homebody who tends to menace others behind the “safety” of her computer keyboard, frequenting facebook to rage about email issues like politics and celebrity gossip, still attempting to torment Timmy Turner via trolling him using various social media outlets.

She's been called to “Watch” TIMMY, serving out his house arrest sentence while his DAD leaves to attend POKER.

{Enter The Multiverse)

Copyright The Collective Complex ©

[The Festival Project, Inc. ™]

© 2025 All Rights Reserved

-Ū.

____

Omg. This is out of line.

Agreed.

Call regina.

RE-GIIIIIIII-NAAAA!!!

She ain't come

Call again!

[opening the window, yelling out into the project housing courtyard and echoing into all of existence.]

REEGINAAAAAAAAAA!

[The Festival Project ™]

What. Damn. I was just gettin' my weave pressed…and dish soap.

I love that new deli.

Mm. Hmm.

{Enter The Multiverse}

We come from the ghetto

We lived in each borough

We live in every corner

We live in these streets

We loud in this bitch

We proud in this bitch

Don't come round this bitch

Without a pot to piss in

Taking pictures? Bitch,

As God as my witness,

A snitch is a snitch

(but in a limited capacity,

I get it,

I'll help you win this,

Ain't no case dismissed in this settlement

This disturbance is egregious,

Believe me,

I've been causing a scene since

3 AM!

Dayum!

I might be somewhat prolific,

Or even a genius,

But right now I just want peace,

A Peloton Ride

And A peanut butter and Jelly sandwich

But weight, i'm out of peanut butter

My weight is getting out of hand,

Don't know if that's a gangstalker,

Or just another obsessive fan,

Object, your honor to pardon

your direct justification of this heinous hatred

I'm helping the gentrification efforts and also

Directly affected by them,

Because i'm african american

(Or half)

But what is half to a racist?

I take it as nothing less than hatred

if each and every time I bathe

Satan comes out to play

And hey,

Isn't it harassment if every time i'm in the bathroom

The door slams, and this whore yaps

Right outside my door

To cause hate and bait me into

Further establishing a race war,

When all I wanted was a sauna,

But i know i can't afford it,

And I love New York,

But honestly,

I'm poor,

So i just got bored with it.

I probably should have been aborted.

To this, a glitch—

A wish that I could just

Push my forehead into his chest,

I digress, though repressed sexually and interested

This sickness is just what he senses as sensual

—And I'm understanding of that.

—Purpose.

I still have four muses,

Four mouses,

No heads

A sad nd four robots

Four hoses of cards

And no forwards

Just haloy endings

That

I can't

Exactly plan yet

Fuck this planet

It appears someone has badly damaged it

No recompenses or divorce

No compared,

No doors,

And no cubords

No,

Just dead bird in a box

Covered in plaster

And a disasterous ride

With no happy ever after exactly

Just another adventure in wonderland

And wonder if perhaps

You ever could even

Know who I am

What a clever disaster

For sure this serves as serious

Let's just get this

The the rumble or the severed train above her is still somewhat of a numbing

To the other corruption under

This, too then, is a lesson unless

It just ends and let it simmer

But remember,

If it isn't in her

It'll be another

Fondant farewell,

When the dinner gets to convection temperatures in the oven,

And you're not over her

The dozens of doves and boxes of chocolate don't hold nothing to the love you have and the hand you hold

And the heart you touch,

So don't let it turn cold

Don't let it turn over and thump either

Don't let it burn

And don't let it lower into

Where you mind goes

When you consider another

And another

Over or rather

You know?

Just aim for Satan and everything's great then.

Put a cap to a cape then and everything degrades,

Fair wealth, good culture, good heart,

And all focus

It goes out the window to dance with the wolves l

Like a bowl full of nothing but meal worms,

Not oats

Look closer over your breakfast

You never know even if you can trust your own mother at four years old

But good, god, thank god for the Honor roll

Or else how else would the world know mid you were at all all worth it at all of four

And still under par,

The gold course, of course

Is all you know

Don't let it go now

When all you have

Is time in your hands

Distractions are hard handed

But actual damage?

Now, that's hard pass

You wanted a song so much

Just so the wrong world would call you up

For hurting our kind

Without ever having known what my mother named me mor why I have to change it

Or what the baby calls me

From so far north in a place calls home

But I'm still not not

So you get your rocks

Slamming the door

I'm at the rock

In my mind

Hoping for

Something better

You

Wasted

All

My

Time

Over

What!

Don't you know

How hard it is

To be anything in the world

But a pretty white slut!

What a knife in the back

What a curse on the world—

Just to start wars so it never works out

Or at the very worst

Just keeps the first one going

It doesn't get awesome

Until I For Real

Can block out the whole world

Just to upset another?

No

I came in peace

You made me anxious

Hold in my waste

At the aim of your hatred

I heart my hard earned

But now I've got nothing more

Than the scars on your over opinionated

Over offended

War cries for her justice

But only if it out does mine,

Right?

Actually,

Fuck it

I'm over it

That's all the words I'm gonna waste on this till bitch

You wanted my energy, so you stole it

But becareful of

What follows it

—you're welcome.

My license is revoked

I've forgotten long ago by now how to break stroke

And it's just a throat scratch,

A dark dive

And I'm trying to try it out a bit

But love's a bitch

And I don't really ever speak her language

I've been distant and lost in translation, and most of all

Impatient with the amount of time that it's taking

Cause I hate that guy, he's a fly in my space thst just doesn't seem to go away until they mate and lay eggs to replace them.

Ugh.

It just goes on,

It's whatever the buzz

It's just all full of lamb and the talk of the town

Is who you are now

So, how I found out?

A roundabout kick to the ass

And a fax to the mayor,

Before I realized

He seems like a complete hater, bro.

I have an eight year old,

But I haven't seen him since he was five

And I think I'm gonna die

Cause everyone's nickel and diming me

And all I happened to find

Is a single penny, so that—

Two hours of mixing,

Once cent I made—

By now he definitely hates me

And has been trained to think I'm crazy

But these days, living paycheck to oaucheck is a thankless job

And the techno snobs are responsible for the upkeep of auschwitz.

It seems like a colored woman with a dream should just

Get behind the scenes

Or a man that sees meaning in her

So this is demeaning? Is it?

Am I green, or am I greenlit— l

And I clean, or am I cleaning

Should I Charlie, or should I Sheen it?

I could admit I seen it coming but I wanted to disagree with it,

It's psychic intuition but all it is is kicking my ass

Like I'm inside or the telivison.

What's my last name!?

I'm the hat man!

Are you happy?

No, I'm sad man l!

And quite thirsty;

Is it Thursday yet

Or should I should I just get to drinking anywayy

I hate all this thinking anyway;

I miss l LA but seen it from the scenic route;

I used to sleep on the bus and the train,

But what I really want is a house

And just to be left alone,

Some grass to mow,

And some to smoke,

And a tree to grow,

Just like the one from Pocahontas

OH SHIT YO.

Why, Hello Friend!

Oh, this is where that Treepeople thing was going?

Yes!

No.

No?

No.

No why.

Cause we went broke .

Went broke what.

Trying to get you to— you know—

No,

I don't I know.

You don't know?

No? I've no idea…

Oh; that's right, you haven't got a clue.

{enter the multiverse)}

what did you do at that afterparty Stephen?!

I TOLD YOU, I DONT KNOW!!!!

What does a girl have to do to get a little attention around here?!

Here, have some liquid courage.

Liquid courage!?

Yeah!

What's in this?

oh, you know…

No, I don't….

You—

Why does it glow

Yeah, I does that!

Oh my god, it looks like one of those sparkle— lava lamps!

Oh my god, yeah, you know.

I'm not drinking that.

Doesn't seem— drinkable.

But it is— drinkable.

Just because you can put it in your mouth and swallow it doesn't make it consumable.

Oh—doesn't it?

[beat]

…You know what.

That's fair!

—it— yeah.

You walked right into thst one.

I— yeah.

So come on?

It got sparkles in it? What are these flecks.

For all you know, it's bio degradable?

Is that a gold fish at the bottom?!

If he can handle it?!

How are you alive?

The goldfish to be fair seems tmmore alive than he should, perhaps. He looks the woman directly into the eye. He seems extremely concious even.

Oh wow.

Come on!

Ok. Fine.

But what do you do with the fish when the bottle's empty?

I don't know. Never finished a bottle.

What!

Never really…though about it.

Okay?

So! Come on.

He pours a shot.

Shift changed ,

I should have made arrangements for a date at an earlier time

But really there isn't a reason or realization to it

I hate playing the game

It must have been an off day when I made it up

But that was so long ago now.

I haven't put hard thought about it,

But forgot I had further options to stop the violence than just talking about it

I missed the opportunity to photog or model

By tomorrow morning I'll be a little smaller

But still broken

If I think of any of those thoughts

My heart opens up and swallows me whole

Talk about a dilemma and not a problem

I would probably dress as such as doll

If I could afford the money

But I'm dollar for dollar

Out of dogital storage for my thoughts and performances.

You know.

So show your age, Nicki Minaj

And Migos, the flash flooding

Benito is bad Bunny,

But you gotta go with the flow of the whitewater

With the high collars and high bars

If you are so highly throughout of

To win an award

And be obsessed over

by other famous people's

Lil bitz

I told my ex I joined the army.

My gigs kept having weird shit happen. I was like “something's not right.”

I thought it was my ex trying to do oojabooja on me.

So I told him I joined the army

to try to see if the weird shit kept happening.

I told that fool I joined the army

— I didn't Say what army!

Gods army bitatch!!!

You the devil!

Stop fuckin up my shit!

It's 5 PM

I'm waking up

It's setting in

That it's a contruct

Not a curse,

But there's no cure

The demon days

The auto wars

As darkness falls upon us

The Red Dawn soon becomes us

OMG! RYAN SEACREST! Everyone forgot about you!

I–thanks! *weird smile*

Quickly! Get on the bus! We're already on our way to pick up K-FED.

COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

[The Festival Project ™]

The Complex Collective ©

-Ū.