Rob Lowe: True, or False?
You have access to a hidden realm and/or an open portal.
Distinctively either, actually.
You look lost. Look less lost.
How am I supposed to know how I look?
I was told not to do that.
You won't backshift, it's impossible.
I backshifted! I told you!
Who did you tell? That wasn't me.
Oh shit. that is so dangerous.
Other people are trying to get through this portal.
Listen, it's–disgusting, really, I should never admit this but–
You're right. I opened this portal under contractual obligation.
I know. Listen–I wish I hadn't, but–
It really did sweeten the deal.
No, not alright, Rob Lowe. You listen to me!
I'm listening. Barely, but–
With whom exactly did you make this “contract” with, exactly?
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.
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.
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?! What kind of movie?!
Actually, it looks like… several…
Several manuscripts, some sort of…
Oh my gosh…I…you know what?
I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be reading this.
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…
Little by little, all of the things started adding up–but there still was no definitive answer. Not at all.
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.
Why would I ever trust you?
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.
OPRAH and GAYLE look at one another suspiciously.
NO ONE–and that is, very seriously NOBODY, calls OPRAH WINFREY anonymously.
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.
(biting into her dinner, but answering telepathically)
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.
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.
{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S}
Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get.
BUTTERS (RYAN REYNOLDS) is not okay.
One day, after therapy, i'm goingto make the best girlfriend ever,
You want to cheat? Cheat.
Do whatever you want actually– excluding physical assault.
Rob Lowe: True, or False?
You have access to a hidden realm and/or an open portal.
Distinctively either, actually.
You look lost. Look less lost.
How am I supposed to know how I look?
I was told not to do that.
You won't backshift, it's impossible.
I backshifted! I told you!
Who did you tell? That wasn't me.
Oh shit. that is so dangerous.
Other people are trying to get through this portal.
Listen, it's–disgusting, really, I should never admit this but–
You're right. I opened this portal under contractual obligation.
I know. Listen–I wish I hadn't, but–
It really did sweeten the deal.
No, not alright, Rob Lowe. You listen to me!
I'm listening. Barely, but–
With whom exactly did you make this “contract” with, exactly?
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.
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.
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?! What kind of movie?!
Actually, it looks like… several…
Several manuscripts, some sort of…
Oh my gosh…I…you know what?
I shouldn't be…I shouldn't be reading this.
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…
Little by little, all of the things started adding up–but there still was no definitive answer. Not at all.
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.
Why would I ever trust you?
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.
OPRAH and GAYLE look at one another suspiciously.
NO ONE–and that is, very seriously NOBODY, calls OPRAH WINFREY anonymously.
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.
(biting into her dinner, but answering telepathically)
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.
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.
{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: L E G E N D S}
Yeah, we're gonna need all the help we can get.
BUTTERS (RYAN REYNOLDS) is not okay.
One day, after therapy, i'm goingto make the best girlfriend ever,
You want to cheat? Cheat.
Do whatever you want actually– excluding physical assault.
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?
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…
I'm coming…i'm running late.
Under the circumstances, there really are no straightforward conversions of time between your world and mine–or, our worlds and yours.
It would take forever and a day to show you even just the slightest of mine, and what I have to offer.
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 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–
Man, this show is so weird.
I know, you would think i'm on drugs.
Oh God, here comes this guy again.
I don't know! He grants my wishes!
Is this for me? I can't memorize all these things. Playing all these characters.
You are–quite possibly the only anybody, who can play this part at all.
Nobody was someone indeed
But still noone, nobody at all, in fact
You sold your soul to the devil!
Huh. That's funny. No one's ever asked me.
I'm assuming like, they wouldn't want the answer.
You're using my own time travel theory–against me!
Technically it was proven through experimentation and is now– a law.
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!” heaven's gates!
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.
THE LIBRARY (working title)
THE COMMISSIONER - Adam Sandler
THE GENERAL- JIMMY KIMMEL
THE CONSTABLE - KATT WILLIAMS
THE ADMIRAL- JIMMY FALLON
SUPPORTING {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}
INTERLUDES - WHOOPI GOLDBERG
“Interludes and Expressions”
The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū
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