| L E G E N D S: ICONS. |

I just found out the President doesn't drink and this is something we have in common.

I don't drink; but i found out he didn't and it made me want to start.

I'm like

“Oh, I can't be associated with this dude”

I started shopping for lime-a-ritas.

Spritzers and shit, something fruity.

I'm like

“I think i just became an alcoholic.”

I started to get worried.

I watch a lot of late night TV;

I'm like, obsessed with those guys– right?

[oppotunity for crowdwork:

Anybody else watch late night?

[maybe one person, but probably nobody]

To maybe one person

Oh yeah? whose your favorite late night host?

[roast, as it is probably easy to do]

Option two: nobody? Ok.

That's alright; i'll catch you up to speed;

If you ever need to understand the state of very white america:

That's pretty much late night tv.

I'm in no demographic whatsoever,

But i watch for the news,

And these days its all about politics,

Which is great, because then,

I get to laugh.

But i started getting concerned when I realized

Myself and the president might have too much in common.

We have–I'm embarrassed to admit–

Ashamed, actually–

Almost the exact same reaction to–nearly everything.

I accidentally fucked around and humanized this motherfucker.

Or unhumanized myself.

Either/or.

See, I find the dude funny.

Hilarious, actually–

Because i've been predominately poor

And disproportionately black

My entire life.

Nothing this administration is doing is news to me.

At all.

Racism?! BIgotry?! Scandal?!

I used to check the box for [black]

It literally doesn't get much worse than that in this country.

So nothing worries me more than the fact that

Possibly the most hated man in the world right now,

And myself–

have too much in common.

His reaction and my reaction to almost anything are notjust eerily alike–

But identical.

I get that this isn't funny.

I don't like it either.

I can't tell whether I'm humanizing him or becoming less human.

Do I insert my tesla joke here?

Maybe, might as well.

Everyone was so blown away that this dude got into a Tesla and goes

“It's all computers”

Like a little kid and I myself found this shockingly familiar; because

When i rode inside a Tesla for the first time,

I had that EXACT same reaction!

I said the same thing!

“OH! IT'S ALL COMPUTERS”

I laughed too hard at this, I think
In the privacy of my own home,

although, it seems like someone might have just been watching

When the next day, everywhere I look there are teslas and I can't stop myself from cracking up.

1. Because I had the same exact reaction. Either the president might be a human, or I'M an android.

and 2. Biff Tanen is my favorite movie villain of all time. How do you not–

Anyway.

Now all of a sudden, i'M a white supremacist?!

HAHA! Jokes on you!

I'm an ELITIST!

There's a difference.

don't get me wrong; i've been broke my entire adulthood–

But i value high morals, good taste, and intelligence.

Speaking of intelligence:

[Elon]

Depends on the crowd–I could be pushing it.

Pushing it might be a good start.

{pun intended} (get it, cause tesla's are push to start)

“It's all computers!”

Fuck yeah it is, goddamit,

I said the same shit

“It's all computers! “ “ This is a spaceship!”

Don't hate the player, hate the game.

Yes, being black–or any color at all during either of this dude's administrations has been horrible–

But the upside is…

[think real hard]

Maybe segway into everybody hating Elon, which is unfair because he has asperbergs, and if he wasn't one of the richest dudes in the world– it would be the entire opposite because technically he's disabled, right?

Isn't it weird how just because the dude has a lot of money everyone is allowed to hate a dude who literally has a social disability? I find this strange and kind of attribute this to the herd mentality state of discollusioned unawareness that obviously, if no one can remember that this dude is on the spectrum…

Which, besides being a genius kind of excuses his bizarre social atrocities.

Doesn't it.

Last time i checked whenever there was a kind of issue with a disabled person, like at work or something, everyone is kind of keyed in and caught up to speed like

“Oh, that's Ernie, he's special– [whispers, aside: He has aspergers…]

And everyone in the office just goes

“ohhhhh.”

Too much latenight. I gotta start drinking.

No more late night.

{if crowd work engaged, follow up with one more roast.}

No more idle threats

Just do it, or don't

You are you you are;

And this is your curse—

Just don't make it worse

Just go to your room;

You don't have a home,

You just live in a tomb

You live in a tomb

I live in a tomb

I listen to mooba

This is my womb,

I move out soon

Full Moon, I swoon

You snooze, you loose

You booze?

I choose to amuse the humans

Shoot the roomba, too

He knew me

Music moves the rooms

Consuming doom and gloom

Though boom boxes

Not just a—-

He's an artist.

Lol what's the plotline for this.

idk adam sandler's early-career secret name change?

For what though

I guess we'll see.

You give me body ache

A subtle body ache

And knowing what you cause

A force of no remorse

You give me body ache

I knowing that you want

A knock against my heart

Don't push

(it doesn't cost)

I woke you up

With no remorse

(don't push– a body ache)

I want to want to want to

Want you

But–

(a cause)

However I don't

(don't operate unplugged)

The push–the push–the push
The pause

|| don't break || don't break||

The heart

Masterful, a fool

(encanto tanto)

But i'm soaking up your body overflow

(the cause, the cause)

I want to cherish all your fountains

(I wake up with no remorse)

I want, I want, I want

You give me body ache ||

The cause

The cause

You give me body ache ||

The cause

The cause

You give me body ache ||

I want

I want

You give me fluid heart

(I pump || I pump|| I pump..

|| || ||

(Fade out)

Oka.

Oka.

__

Okay. I got the envelope.

Good. Now, take this–Uptown.

Uptown? Why Uptown?

You're about to find out.

No. Wait–how ‘Up' are we talking”

Up.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

Rob Lowe: True, or False?

What's the question?

You have access to a hidden realm and/or an open portal.

And/ Or?

True or False, Rob Lowe.

And, or “or”?

Distinctively either, actually.

___

Oh, fuck, oh fuck–fuck!

You look lost. Look less lost.

How am I supposed to know how I look?

Look in a mirror.

I was told not to do that.

No, you should do that.

But what if I backshift.

You won't backshift, it's impossible.

Oh, FUCK. FUCK.

Dude, what happened!

I backshifted! I told you!

Who did you tell? That wasn't me.

What!

Where did you go?

I don't know, I – look,

Oh shit. that is so dangerous.

Shut up.

Other people are trying to get through this portal.

That's fucked up.

Total mistake.

You should close it.

NO can do.

What.

Listen, it's–disgusting, really, I should never admit this but–

Don't tell me.

You're right. I opened this portal under contractual obligation.

You what.

No.

I know. Listen–I wish I hadn't, but–

“but”

It really did sweeten the deal.

What deal.

…”the” deal, alright.

No, not alright, Rob Lowe. You listen to me!

I'm listening. Barely, but–

With whom exactly did you make this “contract” with, exactly?

Oh, you know.

No, I don't know, which is why I'ma asking.

True or false? You get one. I told you, now that's done! You know the rules.

No. Not true or false.

No…

Truth…or DARE.

Are you kidding me?

Does this seem like a joke, to you?

A long running one, sort of!

In fact, it was a long running joke– and I was the butt of it. Or the head. Or both. Maybe I was the whole pinata…but that's another entire story…sort of.

Listen to me.

No, you listen to ME.

Okay, I'm listening.

Someone up the ladder knew I was writing this–what seemed like complete nonsense, but after years of curation, actually turned out to be…

A movie script!

A movie?! What kind of movie?!

Actually, it looks like… several…

Several what?

Several manuscripts, some sort of…

Some sort of what?

Oh my gosh…I…you know what?

What? Let me see.

I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be reading this.

Why, what happened?

No…

Let me see.

It all somehow started to make sense… Rob Lowe and his impeccable professionalism, The books i'd found in the Little Free Library–that lady on the train writing a five-season television series… and most importantly, all the weird shit that happened in the DJ world before my, well…

Blū, what are you doing?

I don't know yet.

Imminent collapse.

Little by little, all of the things started adding up–but there still was no definitive answer. Not at all.

True or False:

Oh, boy, here we go.

Once inducted into this secret union, one who is asked True or False must answer so truthfully to anything they are asked to follow–however, the limit to such a question is one.

You know the rules.

So this better be good.

Oh trust me. It is.

Why would I ever trust you?

Trust me, then.

Either of you?!

Good point.

What's the question?

{Enter The Multiverse}

OPRAH and GAYLE are eating a lustrous supper over an episode of their newest favorite, most bingable series, {Enter The Multiverse} when OPRAH receives an anonymous call.

GAYLE leans in over the smart receiver and observes the incoming call; in anticipation of the series premiere, the ringer is silenced, but the notification appears in a flurry of flashing lights and a calm, vibrational tone.

GAYLE KING

Hm.

OPRAH WINFREY

What's that?

GAYLE KING

Someone's calling.

OPRAH WINFREY

Who?

(Ah-ha)

GAYLE KING

Unlisted.

OPRAH and GAYLE look at one another suspiciously.

OPRAH.

The audacity.

NO ONE–and that is, very seriously NOBODY, calls OPRAH WINFREY anonymously.

GAYLE KING

Indeed.

The receiver continues to flash and vibrate; seemingly odd enough, a storm of thunder and lightning appears to have begun outside; OPRAH'S insanely large panoramic windows begin to pitter patter as the lightning seems to nearly syncronize with the flashing of the receiver.

GAYLE KING (CONT'D)

Answer it?

OPRAH

…might as well.

GAYLE

(biting into her dinner, but answering telepathically)

Should be interesting…

ENTER THE MULTIVERSE cannot be paused; it is live broadcasted and transmitted from an unknown extra terrestrial satellite signal in the great and ever-expanding cosmos in an unknown realm. Because of this, its availability has been limited to only the wealthy elite, the higher ranks of the entertainment community, extra terrestrial colonies far and wide, and most recently, the global governments on earth as they attempt to track down the origin of this mysterious signal in deep space.

ok.

OPRAH answers.

HELLO?

As she accepts the call, the screen becomes available to see with whom she is sharing this conversation, however, bizarrely enough–the very scene plastered onto the giant screen is her very own setting in real time–OPRAH has ENTERED THE MULTIVERSE.

GAYLE

See.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S}

THE ICONS: PART I

Oh Jesus.

Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get.

BUTTERS (RYAN REYNOLDS) is not okay.

OH JESUS.

Lil bitz

One day, after therapy, i'm goingto make the best girlfriend ever,

You want to cheat? Cheat.

Just dont hit me.

You love drinking?

Drink your face off.

Just leave mine alone.

Do whatever you want actually– excluding physical assault.

I swear, i dont care!

I wont argue.

Just leave me my teeth

Rob Lowe: True, or False?

What's the question?

You have access to a hidden realm and/or an open portal.

And/ Or?

True or False, Rob Lowe.

And, or “or”?

Distinctively either, actually.

___

Oh, fuck, oh fuck–fuck!

You look lost. Look less lost.

How am I supposed to know how I look?

Look in a mirror.

I was told not to do that.

No, you should do that.

But what if I backshift.

You won't backshift, it's impossible.

Oh, FUCK. FUCK.

Dude, what happened!

I backshifted! I told you!

Who did you tell? That wasn't me.

What!

Where did you go?

I don't know, I – look,

Oh shit. that is so dangerous.

Shut up.

Other people are trying to get through this portal.

That's fucked up.

Total mistake.

You should close it.

NO can do.

What.

Listen, it's–disgusting, really, I should never admit this but–

Don't tell me.

You're right. I opened this portal under contractual obligation.

You what.

No.

I know. Listen–I wish I hadn't, but–

“but”

It really did sweeten the deal.

What deal.

…”the” deal, alright.

No, not alright, Rob Lowe. You listen to me!

I'm listening. Barely, but–

With whom exactly did you make this “contract” with, exactly?

Oh, you know.

No, I don't know, which is why I'ma asking.

True or false? You get one. I told you, now that's done! You know the rules.

No. Not true or false.

No…

Truth…or DARE.

Are you kidding me?

Does this seem like a joke, to you?

A long running one, sort of!

In fact, it was a long running joke– and I was the butt of it. Or the head. Or both. Maybe I was the whole pinata…but that's another entire story…sort of.

Listen to me.

No, you listen to ME.

Okay, I'm listening.

Someone up the ladder knew I was writing this–what seemed like complete nonsense, but after years of curation, actually turned out to be…

A movie script!

A movie?! What kind of movie?!

Actually, it looks like… several…

Several what?

Several manuscripts, some sort of…

Some sort of what?

Oh my gosh…I…you know what?

What? Let me see.

I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be reading this.

Why, what happened?

No…

Let me see.

It all somehow started to make sense… Rob Lowe and his impeccable professionalism, The books i'd found in the Little Free Library–that lady on the train writing a five-season television series… and most importantly, all the weird shit that happened in the DJ world before my, well…

Blū, what are you doing?

I don't know yet.

Imminent collapse.

Little by little, all of the things started adding up–but there still was no definitive answer. Not at all.

True or False:

Oh, boy, here we go.

Once inducted into this secret union, one who is asked True or False must answer so truthfully to anything they are asked to follow–however, the limit to such a question is one.

You know the rules.

So this better be good.

Oh trust me. It is.

Why would I ever trust you?

Trust me, then.

Either of you?!

Good point.

What's the question?

{Enter The Multiverse}

OPRAH and GAYLE are eating a lustrous supper over an episode of their newest favorite, most bingable series, {Enter The Multiverse} when OPRAH receives an anonymous call.

GAYLE leans in over the smart receiver and observes the incoming call; in anticipation of the series premiere, the ringer is silenced, but the notification appears in a flurry of flashing lights and a calm, vibrational tone.

GAYLE KING

Hm.

OPRAH WINFREY

What's that?

GAYLE KING

Someone's calling.

OPRAH WINFREY

Who?

(Ah-ha)

GAYLE KING

Unlisted.

OPRAH and GAYLE look at one another suspiciously.

OPRAH.

The audacity.

NO ONE–and that is, very seriously NOBODY, calls OPRAH WINFREY anonymously.

GAYLE KING

Indeed.

The receiver continues to flash and vibrate; seemingly odd enough, a storm of thunder and lightning appears to have begun outside; OPRAH'S insanely large panoramic windows begin to pitter patter as the lightning seems to nearly syncronize with the flashing of the receiver.

GAYLE KING (CONT'D)

Answer it?

OPRAH

…might as well.

GAYLE

(biting into her dinner, but answering telepathically)

Should be interesting…

ENTER THE MULTIVERSE cannot be paused; it is live broadcasted and transmitted from an unknown extra terrestrial satellite signal in the great and ever-expanding cosmos in an unknown realm. Because of this, its availability has been limited to only the wealthy elite, the higher ranks of the entertainment community, extra terrestrial colonies far and wide, and most recently, the global governments on earth as they attempt to track down the origin of this mysterious signal in deep space.

ok.

OPRAH answers.

HELLO?

As she accepts the call, the screen becomes available to see with whom she is sharing this conversation, however, bizarrely enough–the very scene plastered onto the giant screen is her very own setting in real time–OPRAH has ENTERED THE MULTIVERSE.

GAYLE

See.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S}

THE ICONS: PART I

Oh Jesus.

Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get.

BUTTERS (RYAN REYNOLDS) is not okay.

OH JESUS.

Lil bitz

One day, after therapy, i'm goingto make the best girlfriend ever,

You want to cheat? Cheat.

Just dont hit me.

You love drinking?

Drink your face off.

Just leave mine alone.

Do whatever you want actually– excluding physical assault.

I swear, i dont care!

I wont argue.

Just leave me my teeth

Do you think it will work?

I don't know, Conan, I don't know!

Conan O'Brien?! Where did you find Conan O'Brien on such short notice?

It was actually pretty easy.

I don't think that's real thunder but i'm impressed with the teatrical…

Is that not real lightning?

It is, but.

That's it.

Conan, hold this.

What.

CONAN O'BRIEN is STRUCK by LIGHTENING.

It's a-half-past eternity–where the fuck are you?

The daunting this was, I hadn't any idea at all how much time had passed…

Not really.

I'm coming…i'm running late.

Tell me about it?

Under the circumstances, there really are no straightforward conversions of time between your world and mine–or, our worlds and yours.

You mean.

How much time you got?

Forever.

It would take forever and a day to show you even just the slightest of mine, and what I have to offer.

But…

But what…

I should go…

Well, go then.

…but…

The doors are open.

This is heavy.

The thing is, in navigating between this realm and that, many are lost–and also, many wonder as to what becomes of times past, and all in all, unnoticed, many things are not at all, or never were–or…never again.

ANDRE 3000

I know it's coming…

ANDRE 3000 slides smoothly, leaning back until the grand piano on his back stands on its own legs on the crystalline floor of the clouded paradox; a glistening void in the kingdom of the unknown, where much time is spend, in the journey of pondering. Now he is laying down on the piano and flat on his back, horizontal to the golden glow of the purplish horizon in this place, seeping into a quiet unknown, waiting–

ANDRE 3000

…and here I will wait.

Man, this show is so weird.

I know, you would think i'm on drugs.

I wish.

WISH?

Oh God, here comes this guy again.

Whose this guy?

I don't know! He grants my wishes!

I'm a–fairy–I think.

Right.

Whatever.

Ooh.

Wait.

Is this for me? I can't memorize all these things. Playing all these characters.

That's – seriously?

Seriously.

Stop caving.

I'm caving.

You are–quite possibly the only anybody, who can play this part at all.

“The Only Anybody”

Nobody was someone indeed

But still noone, nobody at all, in fact

Until…

You sold your soul to the devil!

…so?

*gasp*

Hey.

What gives.

True–or False.

Huh. That's funny. No one's ever asked me.

How come?

[beat]

I'm assuming like, they wouldn't want the answer.

(shrugs nonchalantly)

Wow.

That's…

You're using my own time travel theory–against me!

Technically it was proven through experimentation and is now– a law.

FUCK.

Uh. You're welcome!

You're ruining my life!

No, i'm fixing it.

INCORRECT.

You know i can barely breathe in here…

And why is it that we would happen me to connected, commander?!

Interlogues, and interlogues of space, my captain–

I promorged bodies and bodies over your arrival, imdending my great death,

For mere mortals to come!

For sport?

“For sport!” heaven's gates!

You seem aroused…

Ar least have mercy on these gracious keepsakes.

I keep praying for these aches to pass and subside–days, weeks, months even

I can barely open my eyes…

This is no fortunate thought.

I beg mercy.

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

THE LIBRARY (working title)

CAST:

THE COMMISSIONER - Adam Sandler

THE GENERAL- JIMMY KIMMEL

THE CONSTABLE - KATT WILLIAMS

THE ADMIRAL- JIMMY FALLON

PEONY - CONAN O'BRIEN

SUPPORTING {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

INTERLUDES - WHOOPI GOLDBERG

“Interludes and Expressions”

Oh, so there are women?

Eventually. But also–

Not quite.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

Television Series Concept: "Tales of a Superstar DJ"

Premise: "Tales of a Superstar DJ" exists within the sprawling multiverse of "Enter The Multiverse," revealing the deeply personal, often painful, and ultimately triumphant journey of Blū Tha Gürū. Born of ascended dimensions and gifted with unparalleled creative genius, Blū faces the paradox of her destiny: to become the world's greatest DJ and healer through sound, while navigating profound earthly challenges like body dysmorphia, the scars of loss, racism, homelessness, and the crushing weight of her hidden secrets and battles with mental health. Armed with a cheap video camera and an unwavering cosmic mandate, Blū will record her raw, unvarnished ascent, blending mind-bending sets with intimate glimpses into her struggle for love and self-acceptance, all while the universe conspires to push her towards the decks.

I've got a secret, a dirty little secret.

Oh, it's you.

I called first, if that makes a difference.

It doesn't.

The man, a tall and dapper elegant fellow is quiet and refined— PEONY (pronounced “penny”) wel known amongst the folks at the library has climbed each rank with a rapid whimsy, for which he has earned his respect and the seat he claims here, in this palace.

His jacket is of a fine side and velvet, trimmed with leather to match his strange loafers— trimmed with a golden and silver toe, to match the cufflinks and the belt, and even the tie, and appearing to be covered in gems and crystals.

Sir.

Thank you.

Another man approaches.

The dodo rang!

Of course.

Sit, will you!

Will I?

You might, or not, but i haven't the time!

Spare me the riddles

— but give me the rhyme.

The rhyme costs but one, pretty penny.

Only a shilling I've to spare.

Then one shilling will do;

One prune, and one pear.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

For awhile I thought I wanted to be on SNL.

I really thought “maybe I could do that.”

Especially after all the 50th anniversary specials and documentaries and stuff, I was like

“This is speaking to me.” “I should do this”

“I've done stand up exactly five times!”

“I should be on SNL. Yes.”

So i started to think about it;

I got really into it, actually,

I'm like

“Yeah, i just gotta be really good st stand up, I'll climb the ladder…”

So i start watching more SNL, I'm playing along, i'm like “yeah, i'm gonna do this”,

And i start studying the history, and the people–

I get to know everybody who's ever been on the show…

And that's when I realized,

“Wait a second. I can't be

What's the short version of the joke?

Uh.

I can't be on SNL. You know why?

[Why?”

Well, I don't know– it either goes.

“Because i'm a Ravenclaw.”

or

“Because I'm not a Gryffendor”

I think it's that. See, almost everyone would immediately get the reference to harry potter if I said “gryffendor”

It was “I'm a hufflepuff.”

But i'm not a Hufflepuff. Jimmy Fallon is a Hufflepuff.

Sshh–that's later.

That's why I was breaking down the joke.

Ok. So how's it go?

So I start getting real familiar with all the players,

And that's when I realized,

“Wait. I can't be on SNL!”

Goddammit–I'm a Ravenclaw.

Almost everyone who's ever been on SNL is a Gryffendor!

Everyone!

Except Seth Meyers:

He's definitely a Slythern

(--and Jimmy Fallon–

He's very obviously a hufflepuff–

And they both have their own shows now so this says something.

Very obviously, almost everyone else–

Gryffendor.

[Insert Crowd Work?] –Perhaps…

You don't think so?

Watch.

You'll see.

I can't be on SNL.

I look, all I see is Gryffendor, a couple of Slytherin, and a very obvious HUfflepuff–

But no ravenclaw!

Goddammit!

Maybe we're too analytical. I don't know.

I'm not a Gryffindor.

Not a hater.

Just not a gryffendor.

It's a good house.

But i'm a ravenclaw.

Why the fuck am I writing jokes?

Cause it's Saturday.

Yo, but here's this dude–my favorite comedian of all time–and he's almost entirely improvisational.

But here I am, when I go on stage, and I just go blank. I can talk for hours to myself but suddenly i'm in front of people on a stage and I'm not myself. For whatever reason, I feel myself becoming whoever they think I am–and I can't know it–but I can feel it. So i stopped performing stand up, because most importantly, new york just simply wasn't funny to me anymore–I just didn't like it, or at least the part of it I was seeing–but maybe, the part of it that I was seeing was the only part I could see, because i was just myself. Almost as if I didn't deserve midtown–but didn't enjoy the rest of it knowing it was there.

NT. THE LIBRARY. AT DAWN.

Do you want to ride my little pink pony?

Ah, come on!

Ahem— do you want to ride my little pink pony?

-[a moment of begrudging hesitation, before he finally obliges]

Ah, yes; yes. I would like to ride your little pink pony.

Well, then.

The admiral slips the general a pink bank note, which at first glance appeera to be a 5 dollar bill.

It slips into his hand as he remains composed. Butultimately, he seems nervous, and somewhat defeated.

Later, sucka.

The admiral pumps his collar and walks away, straightening his back and giving a clever smirk as he walks away smugly— the general stands and also pops his collar a bit as his back stiffens and he stands for a moment in the center of the grand central ballroom; a luxurious dining hall, which is also still even more importantly, an wxquisite library. He turns to one of the shelves, passing by a waiter with a golden platter, who offers him o'derves; even the waiter seems a big smug, and the general, though keeping his composure, squints with a resentment, opting instead for a cocktail on the table beside him; it is clearly not his cocktail and now he is reflecting this smugness, the waiter shrugs it off and in an instant he is alone again in the shimmering opulence of the room; it's hard to believe this palace of sorts is hidden deep inside the crevices and hidden alleyways of a—

—ahem—

Sorry. You're right.

—tucked away in a secret location.

He turns to one of the shelves and runs his fingers along the grand row of books which happen to be at eye level; knowing the exact volume at which he places his index fingerc, tapping it above a blue book with a golden embodiment and a red seal; the book appears of course to be somewhat magical in nature, and he as well taps the cover three times before opening it to nearly the center, placing the l pink currency within its pages, and shutting it intently; as he does, the startling discovery ther an very smal man has been standing behind him for an undetermined amount of time… he jumps, but the smaller man does not merely even flinch.

CONSTABLE

Meow, goes the cat!

GENERAL

Agh…

And bark goes the dog.

CONSTABLE

Ahaha—

And what of the mouse?

GENERAL

The mouse calls not at all

(In unison)

Because the mouse has gone!/.

CONSTABLE

Aha!

GENERAL

Yeah, just.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

I'm a size extra small,

What are you all on?

I lost all of ya'll

And then some

Sitting on the wall,

But I went over once

And once and for all

I went over up

I'll take breakfast

At Jimmy and Molly's

At Jimmy and Molly's.

I'm a mom.

I'll take dinner at Jimmy and Molly's

A bottle of law for the shrubs and a handful of Molly.

I'm in love and a little bit fucked up

I don't know what you want,

I'm a extra small, bruh

I'm a mom

And a model

I'll have brunch over Jimmy and Molly's

Jimmy and Molly.

I'll have breakfast at Jimmy and Molly's

(At Jimmy and Molly's)

I'm at dinner at Jimmy and Molly's

And I brought a bottle

This is grown folks talk

I just watered the shrubs

I might go to the club

Then the pub in the morning

The party at Jimmy and Molly's was awesome

I got gin and some tonic

I'm probably in love with the

—

SUNNI BLU blacks out in the SHRUBS after the wild party at

[Shrubs]

—well, it started at Jimmy Kimmel's house.

Where did you learn how to load a gun?

Nowhere!

[rapid machine gun fire]

I taught myself.

This is the worst map ever.

THE MAP IS OPEN.

Location:

HIGHLINE PARK, MANHATTAN.

THIS IS THE BEST MAP EVER.

What the FUCK is wrong with you.

Get down!

Ahaha! Ahaha!

Ppppppppppppllllllltttt!

—shing!

Bullets ricochet off of the giant pigeon statue.

SUNNI BLU

How much is it?

How much is what?

The bird.

IVAN

You want— to buy my art.

Yes. I will buy this.

This?

This.

It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in Manhattan.

No neck tattoos.

I can't be thinking about you

While I'm thinking about

Not thinking about you

I can never get off on a handjob

Unless you reach for th heart,

Then claw, for the lobster

I need a vasectomy

The more I orgasm about you the more

Kayla's and Katie's and Madison's and

Marrianne's and Nancy's.

The harder I want you to fuck me

The more the

Lillies and Emma's, and Kimberlee's,

Lexies and Annie's.

(Can't forget Ashley)

I just bought a submarine

A submarine

A submarine

I just hawked a wedding ring

An ice cream truck

And a paraglider

I despise these guys

Should I try the spider

Either or

Fuck Mother's Day

Teacher's appreciation

Polyamorouses,

Models,

Bottle service girls

And other whores.

What a putrid fallacy you have

What's a project—

Fantasies in your habit m

Now's a nun

And a number

I been celibate three years

And I'm still not hungry enough

To reach low on the totem pole

For the frog

Holding us all up

I gotta call my doctor

Just to show up the pope!

Shut up, work harder

I work hard enough getting

Don't be dumb.

I'm not being dumb.

You're dumb.

I'm— not—

Don't be dumb.

DILLON FRANCIS and SUNNI BLU sit awkwardly in the indiscriminate parked car, facing towards the beach, as the Californian fog begins to roll in and obscure the clear view of the night sea.

It has been a long a turbulent week since the tabloids and press got ahold of their

—can or worms

—book of secrets!

Whatever shut up.

It's been a long week.

DILLON FRACIS

You know, you don't have to talk like that.

SUNNI BLU

Talk like what, Dillon Francis?

DILLON FRANCIS

You can just— be yourself around me.

[beat, and a long pause. The awkward tension turns to a deep and complex, serious silence]

SUNNI BLU

This is my real self, now, Dillon Francis.

Holy shit that weird clown statue in Santa Monica almost wants to make sense now.

DILLON FRANCIS

And you don't have to call me ‘Dillon Francis' anymore.

SUNNI BLU

Yes I do, Dillon Francis— because it's your name.

DILLON FRANCIS

I meant—

SUNNI BLU

Besides, you wouldn't like anything else I'd call you.

KENAN THOMPSON is an EXRAODINARY RAPPER— he is SECOND IN THE WORLE after SUNNI BLU and wants to put their ONGOING BEEF and DIFFERENCRS aside for THE REALEST COLLABORATION OF ALL TIME.

BITCH.

However,

Once beginning on the endeavor, the two rappers find it increasingly hard to get along with one another.

ABitch.

—watch out.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

TROUBLEMAKER enters through the foyer.

Troublemaker— I never though I'd see you again.

— you won't.

Yo what do I owe the displeasure?

Fascinatingly inept.

Ahem, excuse me— to what do I owe the nauseating discomfort?

Better, but still no dice.

What are you going here, exiler?

“Exiler” well now, here we are making up words after a rusty start.

What do you want?

Where are they?

Who do you mean?

Birdsong and Hawkeye?

I'm supposed to know?

You do know.

Do I now?

Now— tomorrow— always and forever.

Don't play mind games.

But oh, a game it was to have given you the mark of the call in the first place.

The what?

I made my time with you and you alone; and you as well as I remember this; I know what you know, and I am where you are at all and any given times.

So then, you can find them all on your own.

Clever but not! Without seeing both eyes, I have none at all.

What are you seeking?

The hidden truths.

Well then; you're going to have to kill me.

Then I will.

MONARCH THE SUFFERER enters through the galley in extreme panic.

STOP, STOP! WAIT AT IT.

MEANWHILE

Okay, Conan, what gives?

Nothing!

Should this mean something at all?

This is innapropriate,

So you are—completely lucid.

Of course I am; I'm an astral traveler, aren't I?

I don't know what you are?

For now, as it appears, just a thought.

Well, if I give you my eyes, will you sprout arms or something?

The mystic waits and ponders; this seems to be an enlightening thought; filled with amusement, she replies.

Why, yes, Conan. Give me your eyes.

Are you serious?

What a remarkable thought. Actually!

Wait a moment.

Please be in jeans and a t shirt not a sweater or a jacket or a suit

When I please you want you to be my teacher

In this essence, you are light and I'm the truth

Feed me

See me for my demons

As I need your for your weakness

Only on the weekdays, and never on the weekends

We hiatus summers—

Smart, huh

DJs on the long nights,

Your festival seasons

Turtlenecks at Christmas,

No hannukah for Christians,

I'm waving at the Krishnas in the station

And I'm brace to even right this;

As I brace myself for impact,

Saving Grace is in its place

I guess the last days have to happen

As the last act take its placement

—Ace of Spades.

Somebody kill me

I need to get pass go

Collect $200 dollars

And never ever roll again

To roll the dice

To troll the doll

—someone's lost in the mall, alright,

I bet.

I thought it was a poker game

I even hoped,

But no,

Just lunch and cake.

Amen.

A dog in the host suit

On octopus arms

How alarming.

How are you?

I'm no good,

No good,

No good, America

No good,

No goon,

But too false for truth, America

No words,

No news—

Who ties the noose, America?

No time for booze, America

Just cut me loose, America.

Patrick! Patrick! What about the offer?

There was no offer! I lied, to you!

But why would you do that?

To get the most out of you.

Well— you certainly did do that.

You certainly did do well.

Certified freak;

Shh,

I can't leak the secrets.

I could be speaking in codes,

Or keep cleaning my creases with bleach

If you mean what you mean,

Death.

I sure do think,

You are in for

The ride of your life

The ride of your life

I sure do wish,

That I just didn't have eyes m

Just didn't have eyes

Just didn't have—

Here's a thought:

who'd you wash in the laundry?

Were you hoping that I'd wander?

Mayday — lost focus

That is just not your business!

Keep it simple

Keep it tie dye

Keep it strange

And keep it rowdy

Keep it pushing

Keep it pouty

Keep it off the walk

And show now panty lines

No petty theft

No truth remarks

No sighs

No heavy dining

Bleeding

Eating

Breathing

Thinking

Where were for you when I marked you though and then?

This is no Romeo and Juliet!

Did you forget your lunch?

Oh you forgot,

You know

I'm just old fashioned.

That was passionate

For a paraground in parameters of iambic

Drenched in suffocating silent

Lock box

I have the option

I have the option

I have the option

But I'd rather not!

Ha ha

Charade you are

Ha ha hav

Show me what you got

Ha ha. Ha ha

A hallmark card marked

Penny in a fountain.

That's the address,

Well, send it back then!

Which fountain?

Which penny?

Which wish,

Which which

And which Christmas.

I don't get it

I took a half wit plastered bastard and had him hammered into a masterpiece;

Now I'm the madman.

Now what's the matter?

Now what's the difference in a fan and a friend

Or a cat in a hat or

Peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat

Is it just as indifferently anyway just another day

In fact,

It's opposite independence

Interestingly in this circumstance

I am imprisoned

Listening to indefinitely

And whether or not I'd never admit it

This

Is

In me.

Never friend,

However,

In the final act,

Holding hands as the curtains lift,

And the audience stance,

The simple tremble of a pulse

Which resembles the flicker of definite grip

Rather publicly,

In fact,

Center percentium

How's that for a show of affection?

The drop of a hat,

Or as light as a feather

Who goes there

Or yonder.

“I ponder on that,”

“Very often”

Said Cheshire Cat.

Don't forget how long it's been since Alice had originally fallen,

And that all along we've all been in and under, up and down in

Wonderland.

(and also, it's the phantom of the opera)

Come crashing down now the silvered chandelier of crystal and of course the precious iridescent diamonds.

How remarkable the art but perched and parched above it he shadow lives in sawdust

And showtunes

And auras

And hauntings

And mayday

And mating calls

And over all

The body calls to rotting soul

To find a plug to pull

A bull to taunt

Another fan that wants you.

What the fuck would love fall upon of not the shoulders of the golden one.

You're doomed.

I don't know what that means.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

In THE BEFORE TIME, SETH ROGEN is PUSHED down the JEW PORTAL to an unknown realm across infinity; this ultimately leads to his villainey in our current web of multidimentional-fuck-plots.

Why are they “fuck-plots”

Fuck. Watch it—

Ugh!

Plot hole—

Fuck— plot hole—

Dammit.

You lose.

Yo fuck you. I had to Jew this the old fashioned way, alright.

How'd you get in?

Through the eyes.

Are you serious.

What.

This guy.

Why! What!

Nevermind.

Hey, fuck you.

What!! How did you get in?

You don't want to know.

Are you serious!

I'm not even allowed to say.

Are you serious?

Like, ever.

I wonder what's wrong with me that this weird shit keeps happening.

This is weird, right.

Yes.

Like, you're—me.

Like, I'm you.

I'm you.

Gross.

Anyway, Jew bot.

No. We cannot have entire episode where—

Jew started it.

Oh god.

Jesus Christ.

And I'm better at it.

Suddenly everything's

Not only blue but cerulean

As if I spoke rules into effect,

With just enough effect to let it happen

TIMMY'S DAD leaves to play poker, however, because TIMMY is on heavily restricted HOUSE ARREST, his father has hired his old babysitter VICKY to watch him while he is out, VICKY, now pushing 50 (or at the very least looking like it), has not aged well— she is a haggard chai smoker who has developed a large and hair SKIN GROWTH

don't forget about CARYN

Oh yeah, huh.

Hey!

Uh, hello.

You're Whoopi Goldberg.

Oh?

Yeah!

You must have me mistaken.

No, I don't.

You certainly do, love— not to worry. It happens all the time.

No, I know for a fact you're Whoopi Goldberg.

That sound very Jewish.

Yeah! Exactly!

I'm from Brooklyn.

But—

My name is Caryn.

I— yeah but—

This is my stop. Nice to meet you, uh—?

Nevermind.

“Goldberg” sounds Jewish, doesn't it?

The friend nods and the two

Ugh I think Jimmy Kimmel is in hatus and I think I might die.

Right guierllmo?

Uh, right.

See how much faster it moves than you,

Weeping,

And creeping up, keeping these things as a secret is freeing

Becomes secret

Did you leave it signed in

Is it within season,

A distraught out of of work and very struggling actress (MAYA RUDOLPHish) has an exceptional (read: exceptionally bad) audition with a well known improvisational theatre troupe which offers the opportunity to sometimes tour and escape the drab and hostile New York cityscape–although the offered reasoning for declining her application for the open position, despite her “perfect pitch” was that she simply wasn't “ugly enough”, after a disgruntled shouting match with the theatre's janitor ends in an explosive food fight in rampant outrage, she is hired for the position and “initiated” into the crew; soon she learns ‘The Uglies' are no ordinary band of misfits–and now adventure awaits on the sometimes open road to who-knows where.

“The Uglies” (working title)

Comedy, Ensemble, Episodic

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

THE TREE PEOPLE greet QUESTLOVE warmly into their abode with open arms. He is in awe of the intricate beauty and allure of the hidden land amongst the trees.

In essence, they have been expecting QUESTLOVE'S arrival for quite some time; though he quite innocently only had wandered up the tree, initially to have a break from the wild party below, he in an instant found himself at peace there, and soon his new friends, calling from the peaks of the interwoven world

Oh, lol ‘The Roots' –I get it

Shh. Not yet. We're almost there.

Lil bitz

So I go to tranfer trains out of Manhattan headed toward Brooklyn and I head to the airport be of the platform, cause that's where my car is

And there's this crazy guy like freaking out

Like

“Aghhhhhhhhhhh!”

And everyone is standing away from him, like, at a safe distance, and I'm lik, suicidal like

“Meh, we are the same.”

He's freaking out, he even gets real close

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!””

I'm like

“Fuck it.”

So he's freaking out— and that's not the funny part— “

That's actually very serious— serious mental health problems New York City has—

But the funny part is this dude is kind of realizing I'm the only one that isn't standing away from him, and so he gets closer, I'm like “whatever, my crazy is in the inside, it's okay”

But the funny part is, the rain starts coming, so people start getting closer and up comes this lady, and without saying anything, she sees this dude is kind of close to me and like checks up on me, just naturally—

This is why I love New York, this was a sunny display of human kindness, without saying anything—

She kind of just comes up with her umbrella in both hands like a fucking baseball bat and she's like

“You good? I got an umbrella!” And just kind of smacks it against her hand like a police baton, she's looking down this dude like

“Batter up, bitch!”

I'm like

“Thanks homie, damn! But I'm good, like…

I'm about to jump in front of this oncoming train— that shit's crazy.

This guy's okay, though, he's really not..:

You know.

“I got an umbrella!”

Daaaamn homie! Okay!

The immortal Citezens bigade

The temple of sound

Corpus Unam

It started out st TiTs, but it ended up at TAINT.

STEFON

Isn't it wonderful?

no! This place is gross!

I want to go home now.

JOHNNY DEPP finally wakes up from that nap.

He looks confused.

Which club was it?!

It wasn't a club!

I told you a spade!

But I have four aces

I have four aces

Vegas will all make sense now

Every tattoo is a closure

You lose your composure when you come close so,

Write me a letter

I hope you feel better, with medicine

I hope every note I ever spoke or wrote about you

Pulls your hair grey

Or out

Until it's all gone

I'm sure I'm a problem

I'm no Monroe,

O'Fallon

Suddenly it's back again

Like a flash, I reacted to the paralyzing waves of danger

I sense on every strange aspect of this

Garage lined industrial turned residential

Dumpster to a nightmare

And I'm sure

I'm there

I saw you blew it

And evacuated;

All day my brainwaves are

Will Forte

Leslie Jones

And Dratch

In no particular order,

Last night was a whole show

I had Eddie Murphy over

For Richard Pryor

We all won Oscars,

Is that not the most remarkable thing

That ever happened on this block?

Show people

I got no morals, no decorum

No noteworthy

Toolbox

No trustworthy robots

Not a dollar to my net worth

I own networks, all of them

Merge them all into a media conglomerate

I grow doll hair out of my pretty eyeballs

I don't go where the sun don't shine

So the sun don't shine at

Rockerfeller Plaza.

AHAHA charade you all are

And I'm just Monday

Hot gossip

Just fall out, blossom

Just got hot dollops on a lot of chocolate

Armed library coture

And if you're not sure if or not I've lost it

I sure have,

You won

But I'm all for one

What'd you call it

Rotten mouth show

Rotten acoundrels, candy apples

I tipped four hogs over

Your lost faux of conciousness on

All of the waffles

The Oscar's was the award

Cause

God

Sure

Loves

Conan

Fuck you hospital hoe.

I know

I failed SNL

Before I even got started

Hidden

Silent

Cosmic

Circles

But still

Sometimes

I can't help

But love them all[Liz]

JOHNNY DEPP

… is this the Boom Boom Room?

No, Johnny. It is not.

I asked for The Boom Boom Room!

I saw Beyonce on the ride home

But I don't wonder why were wonderful

I just roll on.

Something like troll under a bridge cause

That's where it is when you wriggle it into your middle finger just to dismantle the antics the candle the hammer the mattress the fell on the family the Fallon the manhole the

Gasp!

See I told you it's a trap.

So why not impale your life on the rim of the holy grail,

Holy hell I skipped supper seven days just to acquire

A cigarette lighter

I see Tina Fey in everything

When it makes sense

And sense when did I get this obsessive about

Nonsense I was just

Never that fucking interested in?

Sitting in the kitchen without pants on

Hair half braided hating my apartment

Like I forgot I was lucky to have one

But what fun is it in a dungeon

When in any direction you escape

You take the L!

I failed at l finger economics

One

Two

Three

Four

I

Declare

A

Thumb

War!

And the world keeps going

Like over and ovver,

But those two dumb dumbs

Are still thumb warrig, and so the story goes

On and on

Like I never fell off the roof,

Like I never turned my tv off

Like I never wanted Timmy Turner

Like i'm not about to run a life up my arm

Like I'm lying about the psychotic

Like I can't be anywhere but here?

My circle is bigger

And my friends, are fans

And my fans,

You're a fan of

Hire a lawyer

To fight a white girl

Who slams doors

In the Trump World

No thanks.

I'd rather be buried alive

Then at least it's quiet.

Just be glad you're alive!

Why?!

If I'm not thriving

And trust me as I sit writing

The uglies are warring me out of the world I belong in.

This one is suffering and dollar bills

And whores

And dollar bills

And whores

And dollar bills

And whores

But you'll never know the answer

Without words

And son,

I just don't want to have them

No, I never want to talk about it

Unless you're the Oprah

And why would Oprah even want

To open the apostle up,

When I just told the decoy

Every other problem

I've ever had.

Wonder what?

My words are words,

And long after the world turns over

I'll be remembered as someone everyone loves

For writing about how no one ever really loved her.

So I cry until my stomach hurts,

And I catch the door before it slams,

And I never kick the cat, so the cat comes back

But

Fans

And fans

And fans.

I never kick the cat,

So the cat comes back

And fans

And fans

And fans

I never kick the cat

So the cat comes back

And I can't hit her

So she acts like that

So she acts like that

So she acts like that

And fans

And fans

And fans

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

C'cxell Soleïl is here, sir.

What?

She's here sir!

Why?!

THE GENERAL has only just sat down for supper— now, in the early evening, the room has been refreshed in tones of maroon and gold trim; candles which match the fine tablecloths and linens and longer candlesticks of white

The room changes while youre in it.

Of course. The whole place changes around you; it has to stay hidden.

THE LIBRARY itself only exists within a magical realm; though portals have situated themselves throughout space and time, interconnecting with the mortal world— its layout changes intensely rapidly, especially depending on who is inside. Though appearing small from the outside entry points, the inside is a massive network— a literal palace of rooms, halls, and places from which the games of this secret society are played. These are entirely older-than-imaginable beings, barely in human form— to carry out certain aspects of the immortal world into the modern times; magicians, keepers of ancient knowledge, and certainly dieties of sort are often here amongst each other— and most importantly, amongst themselves. It is a house of mirrors, mazes, and obstacles.

Why would

Jimmy lock the Jimmy

In a Jimmy?

I don't know, Jimmy.

Very well, Jimmy;

I ought to know Jimmy conspires once,

Jimmy conspired, once with Jimmy

Aspired twice to become Jimmy

revoked Jimmy's place throughout the ark—

Beyond the stone,

Go, Jimmy go,

Before I awake—

So much for Jimmy, I

Jimmy run,

Jimmy folds.

The last thing I want to do is play poker with those old fools.

Too late, you're going.

Are you sure this is regular poker?

…no.

Why else would be it outside our jurisdiction

“Jurisdiction”

Didn't I say to look the other—

What are you doing here?

I was brought here.

By whom!

More like by what.

By what then?

You're impossible, you know that.

THE PIPER has finally arrived at THE GATES OF DAWN.

Release the viper.

Right front of her eyes, I tell you—

Pull up the nine, and the 4 of hearts

Pull into Rome, midnight and call her

Call to the forest, there is no more home for her

There is none, there is none,

There is no more home.

Every time I take him in

I must remember that

His wife and kids are the best thing

That have ever happened to him

As he said

And whether or not the band

Wraps around the bent and broken digit

I just simply remember that,

I'm just infatuated as a friend

I mark it like a mantra

Just as adequately as the director

Calls to action

All the actors at the set;

With no resentments

Were all just doing our jobs

All just doing our jobs

We're all just doing our…

Lessons.

Come back.

Not quite.

It's not

(Uh)

There

(Where you want it)

Hold on.

(Yeah)

Sit tight

(Where)

I don't want to spoil any of it

Boil all the letters

Burning all the bridges

Sitting at the forest

(Where)

There's the alter

(Where)

Really you didn't recogniz

The moment when it happened

But it's been pinpointed

(Where)

—but where is it?

Cut to commercial

But don't let it hurt you

All of a sudde. My eyes aren't his,

This isn't witchcraft

It's just a glitch

Did you miss an interview

Or is it that you're just disinterested

Or disintegrated

Itergretion, intergers and interference

Running backs and runners,

Gymnasts, models, other lovers

Alcoholics

Now it's not so daunting, comic

I'm also sort of off and autistic

Obsessive with narrow vision

But glimpses of the ever bending present

Is indeed a gift

To know I left the letter

Letting it get soaking wet

Before they ever even read it

Know the news,

Wave the wand,

Wind the whales,

Dig the hole

Burn the bridge,

Burn the ace

Throw the cards,

Get the day over with and won't you know

There's

Something wrong

I think it's simple to tell

The wind will whistle when It's good to win again

There are

Ten men to a collar

Ten phones to a number

One call to a voicemail

And all of them know her

Now, take it all back before the bathwater stagnates

Would you make it in this day and age?

No,

I'm glad that you hate me.

4,000 years later and all of a sudden

The pact is clear and consise

As if

As it

As if

Turn it on its head a bit

And light another candle

Get the glitch out of your

Obsession with the asshole

And wrap you head around it

Found a sweater

Pick it up and pray that it just

Isn't bewitched,

But sickness is sickness

Whatever it is

This is comfort food

A comfort blanket

If I hate myself enough

Then all it does

Is put the elf back on the shelf

The trophy back inside the case

My eyes go back inside my head

And everything I ever thought

Just stopped

And dissappears into the heavens

Wherever it goes

Before it gore

Around and and around and around and around

4,000 years, and now we're here:

The mirrors

Man and Mr.

And it might be snother million years

Until I see to hear

But this and that,

The dance of dances

Comes again

And ebbs and flows

It's not as random

As it is sporadic

And it's not that deep

But it's also keeping secrets

That precede this realm

Or Space and time

Or name or face

And body, souls and mind.

It could be another million years,

But it comes around,

It comes around

It could be getting wider,

But it's steady going down and out

It comes around when it comes around

27, were it ended

Now it's umpteen years into the after life

And we're shadows now

Just projections of such,

But it wasn't once

More than just a thoughtt,

Becomes a story

All the world was just the thought

And then a song,

The dance that came along

Is simply steady moving

Is simple steady moving.

All of the world,

Was just a thought.

Watch with one eye open only

First the right

And then the left

Covered over with one closed palm

So you know how old you go

One foot forward

And no coals to walk over

Rolling rolling,

Your role is

One off,

Now too off

Now too late

But what you process

Is your whole world over

The goal for the gold?

Oh, no,

Warm Sundays

Try to warn her

While her heart is open

To fucking close it

Keep your friends close

And your Fallons closer.

There's no trust in the golden auras

There's no honor in golden globes

If you don't work for them

Know doors open and close

And open and close

And you don't blow smoke,

But you just keep moving forward

Just the idea if him will kill you

Whether with guilt or otherwise,

And now you know

And now you know

You're on no sugar till the goal

You got your cake and ate it, too

Oh, the way he cries in the confines of my mind

The blood would curdle

The tears that seared my soul dism through the wall with every color

If his was a shoulder to cry on,

If God was a cover for longing

Yo. Where the fuck did Patrick come from?

He just showed up.

I don't think he owns me so much

As I want to know

I don't think I'm lonely

As much as it's I'm alone

What are you looking at

Well, I don't know yet

What are you asking?

I can't.

There's a mask there

What I want to know is,

What is this pain?

What is this pain in him?

What is this pain in this?

What kind of psychic sense

That lives in my back;

I just hope that's the last of it

What a weird kid.

Do you ever get in the shower and not feel like being wet?

“Ugh, no.”

“Ew, water.”

That happens to me sometimes.

Anybody else?

I realized at a certain point this is probably like a sign of severe hydration.

My body's like

“There's no water on the inside, why should there be any on the outside?!”

I promise is not a hygiene thing.

I love being clean.

I usually love showers.

Just sometimes, I don't know. I'm like, a cat

“No, fuck this.”

Have you ever tried to give your cat a bath?

Try.

Semitus, Semitus

Relax the semitones

Verdis Quo varitus

You still aren't coming through!

Varuq de Adonai

Semitus, Semitus

Verdis Quo, Veritus

You still aren't coming through

Cover up

Cover up

You still aren't coming through!

Tau Kappa Epslilon

You still aren't coming through

Kappa Kappa epsilon,

You still aren't coming through

Kappa Delta Epsilon,

you still aren't coming through

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved.

-Ū.

Oh, we're playing piñata,

Are we

Spin around and

Cover with the hands your eyes,

And face the sky

We're all just a bunch of mucks

In as much as a scum world

Look what's under us

Don't become us!

(Force your monster)

Learn it

Fear to fight the game

And flee to read the banks,

For not what chosen here hath also done

This can encourage all you've loved

To want you.

Still nothing comes for nothing gained

And nothing tied ur hands behind backs,

Another game, but not piñata

As there are none in our world;

Just shattered glass and disco balls,

Scuffed hardwood floors and

[The Festival Project ™ ]

Curious Muse(um) Part II

PART THREE? WHERE'S PART II?

FUCK IF I KNOW

I have a headache

I'm desensitizing

I've been hypnotized, before, you know

But there's just nothing like this

The eyes no longer fit in my head,

If you're interested, however,

The shoes are custom

Made to order

Well, woah,

It was just hello,

And I haven't listened since,

Instead, I flicker.

It wasn't chance or purpose,

Never in color or purple, deposit

Limited tickets for entry

Rub it out in the present, your head

And eraser

In hair and makeup

Full dress,

But I've never been later

Listen, late

(Never better)

The end, if you get a good glimpse

Or to capture attention,

Attention,

Attention,

Attention, attention!

Then we still get good in gold and silver

Trip to trip your somber, sober letters

Ten dimensions later

Ten for ten and

Ten men to a collar

Definition fits, is it cause and effect?

(I have learned my lesson)

I never watch, anymore, I just listen

A drift behind mixes reviews from critics;

How's this for a symbol,

Or cymbal to emphasize, emphasis

Empathic but

Envy

—

This is where it lives, I guess

Gulps of inward air

But until I keep it hidden, it is,

The heart on my sleeves

And without asking permission

Excuse this,

I went somewhere

And I couldn't remember

What is that I've already written

For just a second

Let's just be honest here,

I'm not sure exactly what to do with this…

Is it a rest day?

It should be

I've run about a mile every day for 10 days straight

And it's still not enough, is it?

SETH ROGEN is a HUGE ENTER THE MULTIVERSE FAN. In a quite sheepish and nerd like fashion, his new favorite pastime as he enjoys copious amounts of recreational substances, is an “obscure floating cult-podcast” by a mysterious author; he tries not only desperately to convince his friends that ‘this is the best shit ever'

This is the best shit ever—

But also rally his industry buddies written into the series to give the series and its script a look and listen for themselves; even those who he's certainly not even really friends with.

Have you seen this?

What is it?

It's like a— podcast.

I don't do podcasts.

Well, wait—no— it's not just a podcast— it's like a cult— show—

“A cult show”?

No— well it's like a?

Please, leave me alone.

{Enter The Multiverse}

SETH ROGEN

(Smoking a bunch of weed)

V.O.

Maybe if I take a gentler approach…

(Stoned)

Have you seen this?

Seen what?

Well— you're in it.

I'm what.

Yeah.

Let me see.

What is this?

I know, right!

—I didn't sign off on this.

Well it's “fan fiction”

What?!

Technically— look, it's like—

What the fuck.

Yeah, but—

— what?!

Yeah, but—

What the fuck!

But there's more!

Whaaaaaaaat.

Yeah, I know.

Slowly but surely, his celebrity buddies and even a few of his non-famous nerd friends have formed a fan club, growing in numbers seemingly by the minute— there's even a group chat.

*notification*

*bloop*

Hahahahah.

*texting*

Ahahaha.

*bloop*

Hahahah. That's sick .

*texting*

*bloop*

What are you doing?

Oh. Remember that podcast I tried to tell you about?

*blooop*

*bloop*

Aaaaha!

The—fan—thing?

*blooop*

Hahaha!

Yeah.

Yeah, what about it.

Well, there's like a fan club now, and we have this group chat, where we like, all send eachother like— memes and stuff—

“Memes and stuff”

Yeah, and like jokes from the—

You'd have to—

Like you'd have to listen to understand.

Oh. I see.

Yeah, and like, nobody knows what the creator looks like, so we like, draw cartoons and stuff of like—

With like—

*bloop*

Oh—

*bloop*

You know,

Yeah,

I—

*bloop*

Wait, you don't know what she looks like?

Well no—wait— how do you know it's a girl?

Well, I'm assuming it's a girl, you said it's like fanfiction, right?

Kind of, but—

So then?

Wel yeah, it would be weird if it was a guy, I guess .

Yeah.

Yeah, that might be creepy.

— so why don't you just look her up?

Huh? I don't know man. She's kind of a ghost,

A “ghost” well, what does that mean.

No social media, no website or— anything. You know .

Underground

No, I don't know.

Oh. Then you don't know.

Well. Wait— Aren't most of you guys pretty wealthy?

So?

So couldn't you just like—

Like what, broh: don't be gross.

No, I mean— wouldn't it technically just be like, relatively easy to find this person?

Then that would be weird.

The whole thing is weird! This person is writing about you about people they don't even know—; you don't know eachother!

I don't know, man, technically— like

From a spiritual perspective or whatever, I don't know-

Everything is connected.

What!

You'd have to listen to the show it's like a spiritual ascension thing—

What

Based in the mutltiversial—construct.

What!

You'd have to know! Okay!

Okay, okay, fine.

*bloop*

*bloop*

*bloop*

SETH ROGEN squints annoyingly and hunches over his phone.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.