HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ZE RULEZ!

ZE ONLY RULEZ AH ZHAT ZERE ARE NO RULZ!

ZAT IS CORRECT! YOU ARE RIGHT.

ZHET IS BECAUSEI EM ALWAYS VRIGHT

GASPING FRENCHLY, BUT STILL GERMAN

YOUR ACCENT! IT HAS RETURNED.

MY ACCENT ALWAYS RETURNS AS I AM STRESSED AND UNDER ZE PREZZUR!

YES! ZE PRESSURE IS BUILDING! ZE TENSION IS RISING!

ZE TENSION IS ALWAYS RIZING! ZE PLOT THICKENS!

ALSO YES ZE PLOT THICKENS! KISS ME!

(Without her accent, regular)

Don't be gross, dude. We already know we're like, cousins or something.

CUT TO:

YOU ARE ZE BROZAR AND SISTER, ACTUALLY, YES.

…ew , gross, that's even worse.

Why does everyone from Hell have a German Accent?

[POST HOLOCAUST. ]

(Previously like, mostly british, or something)

It's getting kind of crowded in here.

Do SAY.

They're not british. They're like—

Where the fuck is like, the vampire dude from?

Which vampire

DRACULA

I'm Romainian.

Right.

Meanwhile…

Remember when TOTO blessed the rains down in africa…?

Uh, yeah?

TYLA

I GOT THE

Shut up.

Ok.

I'm a dog,

I'm a he, baby

A he, baby

I guarantee you,

My celibacy and attraction to light skinned misters

Is confusing everything

And making me miserable

motorcycles, circling like buzzards
I must be dead somewhere in the desert

I see vultures circling

(she's cute, but braids look awful on her)

Suddenly it's on trend

Cause some blonde rocks it

But before that it was

Dysfunctional

And that's the world i'm stuck in

SUNNI BLU

I ripped

I ripper off like a bandaid

Thats all u get

U on medicaid

Bitch that put paint in my koolaid

That was not like a cool aid

Fool

I'm cool herc (ooo!)

You finna get fired cause you late

Right place Right time

Wrong day

You in the wrong lane

All day

See the sign:

It say (GOD)

WRONG WAY

I'm Yonce

Fresh with the lemonade

Now make the bass talk

Yeah

That's the breakdown

Well

Oh well

Lol o

Well I

End up out in Brooklyn

Quite as often as you might just think

Subway car

I'm all alone

I might just dance

I might just sing

I'm in a trance

I can't stop thinking bout

Old what's his name

I lost my mind

I lost my head

I lost my money

Lost thing game

So fuck this game!!!

[a guy in a goth band who has to pretend to be a country-music star.]

lol find him.

k

CHEVY CHASE

DICK CAVETT

AND

JOHNNY CARSON

Walk into

[The Festival Project™]

MEANWHILE

[Fallon is announced as the successor to O'Brien's Late Night]

TINA FEY

WHY.

am·biv·a·lent

/amˈbiv(ə)lənt/

adjective

having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.

Yep.

CUT TO:

HEY. LET ME OUT.

NO, little man! you'll stay in there, until i'n finished deciding what it is exactly you are—

I knew I was in deep shit when I woke up guided by Judy Garland

“More Ghosts N Stuff”

JUDY GARLAND

Good Morning, dear.

BLŪ/CC

I thought I asked for Audrey–

JUDY GARLAND

It was me first, you know.

…

I know.

So, how's this?

Wonderful, Ms. Garland.

You're just–wonderful.

Perfect, she's perfect.

ah GOD.

WHAT

I LOVE HER.

I –you know what? I thought that.

What! The fuck! Is This!

AMMENDMANTS!

There are no amendments…

CUT TO:

]

PATRICK

Where are my notes?

ASSISTANT

I don't know, sir…

They were just on my desk this morning.

I don't know.

GET UP.

NO. I'm sleeping!

[PATRICK kicks VICTOR, his eyes now wide open, however, winded]

Sorry. Did that hurt.

[beat]

He thinks for a moment, and then lets out a heap of breath.

It should have, but, it didn't.

It's Good stuff.

[He removes the dart from his upper arm/shoulder, squinting]

What's in this?

I just told you. Come on.

Where–what?

Hurry up, I gotta get wasted.

[He sleepily rubs his eyes and stretches, looking about the office as if he is almost strikingly alert with clarity]

You–look–you are wasted.

More wasted.

(He shrugs, dismissively, seeming to be quite happily rested from his long slumber]

Ok. Isn't there a meeting?

(Oh shit, continuity? When did I get THIS ability??)

THis–this is disturbing.

Give me my eyes back.

No way.

Thanks, Jimmy!

AHAHAHA!

haha… (laughing sadly, turns into a huff of tears, with a sigh of frustration).

We missed the meeting.

That makes sense.

God, what a beautiful man

Don't–

I meant

JON ZENNET.

I'm telling you, son

Don't make me do this

Once i love you,

It lasts forever

This love is infinite

So whatever it is,

just

Sit down

Shut up

And take this love

Before I shove it down your

CUT TO:

JIMMY FALLON?!

You did this!

Earlier: Skrillex:

Delivery!

Boop.

(Ū)

Ooh. Presents.

Later:

I'm gonna kill you.

Ok.

[Jimmy Fallon wants to die]

Ū

Jimmy Fallon wins the first wiki flex award, hands down.

Kanye's a prophet

Kendrick's a God, though—

You think I'm kidding?

I just went swimming with Jimmy Fallon

And John Lennon

Whatever.

Wait, if he's you right now.

UGH.

Aren't you worried he's gonna kill himself?

No. I left his ego with him.

NOTsaFE.

Where is it?

Where is What?

The SAFE.

What—fucking—SAFE?

FUCK!

[He Frantically unhinges the floorboards]

Oh, you have floorboards…

Duh!

Oh man. That guy is a mess.

Right.

I should get out of here.

TVP

Where does she live now?

Some shithole in Brooklyn

Where in Brooklyn.

I don't know. Lets find out.

I got the address.

That's good, let me see.

—It's actually a pretty nice—

Find out who owns it;

I'm on it—

—make sure the insurance is up to code, and if it is,

Arrange a meeting with the owner to buy it from him double the asking price, pay him cash.

Alright.

This is unmarked, clean bills. Emphasis in discretion.

Got it.

This should be enough, but if it isn't, call Oliver; He'll know what to do.

Sure—and then what?

We'll see.

Helmut lang artform

Gold Yakh

Korouch yagamaih

He says,

I need you

But for what, I wonder

The world is war with us

The world is under water

It's a sacrifice, her martyrdom

Selling all her honor

All I need is one hundred thousand

Hundred thousand dollars

Now that's a canon,

Jimmy Fallon

Remember that?

I was robbed of my sanity, back then

You found the fountain

In your medicine cabinet

In your head, madness

In your heart, magic

Now that's a canon

Camera

That's a fallacy,

Fantasy

Fat

That's a habit

I had to break once

That's a tragic accident

A clansmen on a clasp

That's chaos magick

At the hands of the women at war of us

Paris

Little dragon

Montero, call me by your name

They were all just shadow figures ,

Shallow as my soul

Consumed by credit debt

Another day I went to hell for being blessed

As her

He has a hat box

I sort of like that

I sort of miss my mom

Especially

On days

When I'm just like her

Miserable

And selling it off

To the highest bidder

Promises

Primroses on other parts

Chain link fences,

Grey areas and

Dismissals

Disinterests,

Intervals of hypocrisy,

Criticism

Basket case

Green Day

Savage remix feat Beyonce

Ali Farka Toré

Amadou and Mariam

Crazy P

Orchestra Boubab

Omoau Sangare

Spinning away Brian eno

Stranger

Dijon

Bobby Sox Green Day

I can't even get off

On the possibility of maybe

Y heart is gone

My thoughts were yours

Now the bond is severed

Like k wanted

Gone,

And off in a rush

Where you caught me

Going off, and off

And on

And off

And on again

How do you love me?

Better not

Better not come home

This is all of us

I'll cut you off

And you had better run,

Before I swat you off

Don't you know how you started off

With a run this morning

For what?

For nothing

All I've done is love and love

And nothing comes of it

Not a person

Just a negative number

A crutch tk call on

A cross tk come off of

Some drugs, I snuck in

Over the border

In all of the poison

The world has become

The world of money

A

I wonder what/ to become of him

Cause it couldn't be love

In the presence of a lover

The mother of his sons

And it comes in increments

The what

The songs

The words

The worlds

The worke you've done

And all for nothing

All for nothing

But a fucked up,

Drawn on

Dollar

I never want to see you again

And I never want to hear myself sing

I will never learn to play guitar

I'm not a god,

I'm just another fucked up slut

And all I wanted was your

Nothing over money

If it's time over money

Time over us

This time under everything crumbles

What the FUCK is up with this system

I didn't interested you, did I?

Another apocalypse

Another bipolar,

But you wonder

What the mood was,

Without the war

The motorcyclists

Who just wanted her to suffer

And sell her body

And suddenly they're gone

And shut up

When she offered her soul

And her body

For dollars

Capital One

Don't trust them

I'm literally looking for nothing!

Jimmy Fallon

I'm drying my eyes out,

You're wasting my time with this

Writing

I'm gouging my eyes out—-

Time should be wasted

As wasted as I am

Jimmy Fallon

I'm looking for nothing

And no one

Cause that's where I found him!

And that's what he was, once

A nobody

Now he's washed up on shore

Just a syndicated show

On a poor boy

With nothing but buns and mustard

Good, look where that got you

A first chance award

At a glance of what a glacier does

When it melts on your honorary doctorate

Eli Scruggs

And I fell out of alignment with your

Little white lines in my eyes

You were dying inside

When my timeline went left

And I left her for that

I left her for that

I left her for what

A monster

Of all of them

Jim was

Sure,

He doesn't have a code name

In my notebook

Or my coursework,

Jimmy Fallon

They're just curse words,

But —the network will never allow it

They're just curse marks

They're just scars, Starr

How you got a remarkable come up

On the blood of your

Only begotten

How about what

Jimmy Fallon

You fucked up my numbers

And nothing would come after that

The awards ceremony was disasterous

Cause I haven't yet

Evened out the nominations

For the fat flex

I leveled you

At level up, this morning

And that's how I found her

Good, son

So now you know

How my love works—

And if I love you enough

She'll come for you

If I love you at all, actually

She'll show up

I'd bet a million dollars

A million and one

You don't open the door for no one

Even if he knocks

I told you before,

They're all robots

With one goal in mind

To abolish you

I forgot to show you

My other scars

The wounds

The marks from the cross

The rope on my arms

The wounds I uncrossed

What's did you want again!?

A 4 mile run

On a hundred calories, and a can of these?

Good luck with that

Wasted eyes amaarae

Clairo

Ethel Caine

Julia Jackson

Tennessee Alan ra

I wanna know

Nico and vinz

Rain on me Ariana grande

Frederick Patrick smith

Only you sentinel

Something destructive, possibly even the devil himself had tried to kill me, as just as I was almost asleep, a sound struck from outside— a loud engine which ripped through my heart, soul, body and mind like a crevice, which shattered me, and left me with a pain which would not sooth itself—and I knew that it was some kind of war, as men knew nothing but evil and destruction, and the pain had left me unable to move, in some kind of paralyzed shock.

‘That was assault with a deadly weapon…' said some kind of voice, but it mattered not; there had been no one to help at all, and so I hadn't bothered to cal the police for the continual sonic violence which had been plaguing thes street outside of my apartment; it was obvious someone wanted to kill me, or wanted me to kill myself—and I might have, were it not for God that took over my entirety, and willed me to sleep and only Sleep, until there was some divine reason not to—

I awoke with a song that would become some kind of tune, I was sure, it was almost unbearably good, and so good in fact, that I could not simply just keep it in my head—I arose quickly into my studio, as it had been longsince I had awoken with any music, other than words—however, it wasn't words that were important at all—it was purpose that I needed more than anything—more than money, and perhaps even more than love—which I thought to be my purpose in entirey, anyway, love.

Something had indeed happened, the night before, so drastic that finally someone else had taken notice to the obnoxiousness of the sonic toxicity that had been allowed, I was sure if only just to taunt and attempt to control me, but finally had also hurt someone else, or perhaps maybe even, as a show of good faith, some kind of solidarity had been formed between what I thought to be my safety, and the public service; as a line of service vehicles soon thereafter swarmed the intersection, the lights from their vehicles forming a long line from one block to another, at the intersection where these attacks had been taking place, and then slowly, one by one, turning their lights off—dispersed slowly, crawling up the surrounding blocks and forming some kind of barricade around the area; It was indeed not only in my head, but some kind of group had been the cause of the obscene sounds and disturbances that had kept me reeling for weeks, out of my mind with ache and pain—as if there were a force so destructive and evil, it meant to haunt me with every waking moment that I attempted to enjoy my newfound “home”, which was after all my home, or could have been, were it not for such disturbances.

The sound had left me with such a pain that my heart jumped with arrhythmic palpitations, and did not beat regularly for quite some time—it felt as if, between the top of my spine, somewhere between my neck and the back of my skull, something had been disconnected, as if I had some kind of whiplash or other type of disastrous injury, like my head had been wrung off of my neck, and something was deeply wrong; I even thought to cry from the pain but couldn't, my eyes wide with shock, and I was sure it had been some kind of blunt force trauma—as if I had been rocked from my slumber by the strike of some sort of weapon, and though I thought that perhaps it was such a curse, that had awakened me with such a brutal trauma before, I knew that there could be no such power allowed to a man who would beat his wife in front of their children—that he could no longer control the world around me, but in fact was instead the folly of my own greatness—this was some sort of politicized torture campaign; and whoever I was had become such a threat to some force that it had thought to rule me, or indeed had been acting under the power of Satan himself, who I wished not to believe in, but as I lie awake nearly bleeding, something severely wrong, and even thinking to call an ambulance, as my heart had not returned to its normal pace, nor had my breathing resumed to be normal, but only in hollow, shallow breaths, I instead made myself some sort of drink, which by the time waking in the afternoon, I could not remember what it had been—and by that alone I knew that whatever the sound had been, which had penetrated my body by force, not simply by sound, as my earplugs had been pressed firmly into my ears, and I had many times been made to feel ‘crazy' by reporting such noises that I understood my peace and safety hadn't mattered, that this sound had attacked my body with brute force, more abuse as only could be inflicted by man.

At least someone else had made a report this time, as it seemed my cries for help were otherwise useless.

It was true that some group or some cult somewhere had thought of me as the messiah, which by God's word I had been told explicitly to always deny, as the foretelling of Christ consciousness had always aroused such hatred and violence, that any messiah would ultimately die, under the unconcious egotism of man—and especially that I, being some kind of woman, could never be believed as such, the incarnation of the spirit who had so been ruined by man's inability to understand, in his attempts to control what had been doomed to perish under his wickedness, as also foretold.

In my own right, I was no messiah, but perhaps just another broken soul, as abused and traumatized by the rule of his evil over earth, which I inhabited and abided by; I would indeed end my life under his rule—the evil of man had become all that my mind's eye wished to be blinded of, but could not.

311-17948031

311-17949319

311-17951190

311-17951323

2:42 AM

3:27 AM

4:12 AM

He was so perfect and beautiful— a broken man, but in all the ways one would hope to mend, and though I couldn't, broken in my own sense, he stood as a reminder to what I might become, but had some how forgotten, a life once lived, to be lived again, until it was certain—that one day I would write of him, who had vanished into my own recollection, perhaps, just a shadow sense, a figure of fiction, which I had imagined if only to bring him back to life in the pages of some sort of fantasy.

The diaries I had written of his essence, so yellow that it had been golden once, had been long lost to time, but his memory still lived on. I could never know his name again in any other way, than that which would be love.

‘More cedarwood insense'

I thought. I had been sleeping with my stones once more, as some kind of force had been wreaking havoc on not just my head at all, but my heart, and I had been for days and even months in writing pain— this morning, though, I had awakened from a world which had once been ours, or at least, had once been a place where I was, in a sense, just a shadow, a shattered broken piece of myself no one could want, but perhaps had taken on as a job. Now he was a God, my dear Jon, and once more I could find something like love that had become of him, almost rising up into two little teardrops, had I not promised myself not to cry for him any longer—it was his birthday after all, that I had been shocked into becoming what I actually must have been now—a ghost, and however cruel it might have been, the men who had been outside of my window, barking such remarks as to inspire what I had already decided to have done, to let go of that awful life, and move onto the next one.

It had been long since I had seen my son, and only wished I could hold him once more in my arms, the thought of what he might become

I woke up in a hearse

For what

I woke up yelling curses

Reverses

For services

Hurt, but don't swerve this

Just learn this

You're not of this earth so observe this

The surface is

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-Ū.