OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force

EXT. NIGHTCLUB / ALLEYWAY - NIGHT

A booming beat drops. SUNNI BLU (played by TRACY MORGAN) holds the mic mid-cypher outside the back entrance.

SUNNI BLU

Other witches stay in the chat,

But me, I’m different.

This is the world I been living in:

I’m in the club right now,

Camouflage pants and Illuminati fitted.

Ain’t no wigs getting snatched,

We in the back right now.

It’s a movie,

In the second act right now.

I ain’t gotta think back right now,

Matter of fact right now,

Roll a fattie right now,

Get smacked right now, if you want, but

Ain’t no wigs getting snatched right now.

Other witches stay in the chat,

But me, I’m different.

Matter of fact;

I just wrote a rap right now!

This is the world I been living in.

OK;

Three times,

Three times:

Mitch McConnell throwing up the peace sign.

Now I got three times on me,

Got a one-track diamond mind though,

Shawty outside though,

Vibes all the time though—

NATALIE NUNN

Blu, shut up.

SUNNI BLU

What?

I don’t unc ninja,

I am just a unc witcha.

I been on some unc shit,

Prolly roll a blunt ish,

I be on some Bundt shit,

That is no assumption.

Peepin' on corruption

On a brunch and luncheon.

Y’all been in the lunchroom,

I been eating munch, dude.

What?

NATALIE NUNN

Blu, shut up!

ANDY SAMBERG IMPRESSION OF LORNE MICHAELS

(deadpan cadence)

Anything can happen at brunch!

Doooo!

SUNNI BLU

More camouflage,

Got a mister in a smock;

More camouflage,

Star Trek, call me Spock.

More camouflage,

Park the car, I spin the block.

Turn the cameras off,

Bend it over,

Gonna fuck.

I be fly like a bird,

I flock 'em.

Skrilla, I’m awesome.

Talk show,

Like I’m Emmy Rossum.

Plot twist,

Sike, nah,

I got options.

I just went shopping,

’Bout to take a bunch of rocks… 

–to the Plaza!

’Cause I’m on my God shit.

I ain’t no house,

I’m progressive experiment.

I just bought a house in Malibu,

Oh.

I’m ’bout to buy me a Barbie

And find me a hobby,

End up in the lobby just flaunting.

Uh,

Every house I go is haunted.

I’m ghost,

Probably French 'cause I’m toasted, yeah.

French, I’m Montana,

Not Hannah,

But been on my Peloton,

Yeah.

That is a deep cut.

I do some deep glottal,

That’s not a secret.

I am a seeker,

Avid

Reader.

I am

Leader

Of the free world.

Once you see me,

You won’t need her.

Ahahahaha!

I got chin-checked,

I am Natalie Nunn.

Write me a check

And then go for a run.

Smoke me a Brunson,

Bake me a bundt

Cake.

She mad at me 'cause her butt

Fake.

I got up midnight on

Mon-

Day,

I’m

On

One.

You mad,

Huh?

I’m Kanye!

Let me be Frank Ocean,

I got blonder.

Go on a walk to the Whole Foods,

Picking up some water.

I been on Wall Street,

You cannot stop me.

I own a Walmart;

I run the country.

President Trump wanna hug me

’Cause I got junk in the trunkee,

And money in the trust, eh?

Chunky-Monkey, Monkey Bread: EE!

See me on hump day;

Since you want to,

Humpty-Dumpty.

I been on some luck-wish,

Call me Sukihana.

You know what I want:

Peanut

Butter.

Ahaha!

I am a Lost Cause,

Licking on your bal-wals.

Hakuna Matata

Like I am a warthog.

I don’t need a bottle,

But I want a bag though.

I been on some gay bliss,

But I’m not a fag though.

I been on some fan ish,

But I got fans though.

I been on some bad shit,

Call me Michael Jackson.

Yessir, an asshole,

Present, not a past though.

I been on SNAP,

Crackle-pop,

Head of the household.

NATALIE NUNN

...I am... so confused.

MYSTIC (V.O.)

(ethereal incantation)

You don’t belong,

Just come and go...

Although we share a common goal.

SUNNI BLU pulls out a glossy photograph of JIMMY KIMMEL and thrusts it directly before Natalie.

SUNNI BLU

Have you seen this man?!

NATALIE NUNN doesn’t respond, only squinting in a sort of angry, drunken confusion—looking immaculate, nonetheless.

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

That’s fine. What about this one?

SUNNI BLU whips out a headshot of JAY LENO. NATALIE squints again, registering a flash of visceral recognition.

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

Of course you have. That’s your fatha.

SUNNI BLU tosses both photos to the pavement.

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

You can keep that.

NATALIE NUNN is reality television’s most notorious and high-profile SHAPESHIFTER, whose current extraterrestrial identity is unknown; this may be a deep-cover agent, or perhaps even a high-ranking intergalactic government official using NATALIE as its current host.

Some extraterrestrials are trademarked by their extremely high tolerance for alcohol consumption and hybrid human appearance.

SUNNI BLU (TRACY MORGAN) has been in hot pursuit of a highly volatile shapeshifting aviary, last known to have been seen with the entity CHAOS, who often conforms as the high-profile television personality JIMMY KIMMEL, whose actual true identity remains unknown.

These entities are notorious for multiversal structure decomposure and material construction through the consumption and distribution of "intoxicant substances"—drugs and spirits which alter the perception of the human body and mind, allowing the multi-billion-century-long war to carry on in multilateral intergalactic directions across charted and uncharted territories of the cosmic grid.

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

You’re right. I don’t fit in.

NATALIE NUNN

You’re lost!

SUNNI BLU

What?

NATALIE NUNN

You’re lost, right?

SUNNI BLU

Listen, Nat, I know your script is not normally printed on paper and shit, but—

NATALIE NUNN

It still isn’t. I just get the digital—

SUNNI BLU

That’s enough lessons.

NATALIE NUNN

Huh? What?

SUNNI BLU

You’re lost, right?

Suddenly, NATALIE seems genuinely confused.

SUNNI BLU hurries off into the night, somewhat lifted, and grimaces, chuckling under her breath an evil and sort of maniacal laugh.

INT. SURVEILLANCE QUARTERS - CONTINUOUS

TWO INTERGALACTIC AGENTS—high-ranking alien operatives embedded on Earth, disguised in standard casual attire—sit in front of a flat-screen monitor, surveillance feeds running alongside an intercepted terrestrial television broadcast of "Enter The Multiverse."

AGENT 1

What just happened?

AGENT 2

I think they just shifted.

AGENT 1

No, they switched.

AGENT 2

What? I don’t get this.

AGENT 1

They switched it.

AGENT 2

With WHAT? I don’t GET this!

{Enter The Multiverse}

ON SCREEN:

The entity masquerading as NATALIE NUNN continues its erratic frequency discharge, stumbling across the club perimeter with hyper-accelerated cadence.

BLU THA GURU

Woah,

Baddie is famous,

Catch me outside though,

I am

DRUNK.

Bitch, it’s Monday morning,

Why the fuck you in the club?

’Bout to get a bag

And maybe open up a pub.

I be feeling good,

Just having coffee in my cup.

I don’t pay the tab,

I be chilling in the tub.

I got lots of luck,

Eh,

I get lots of love,

Ey,

Twisting up my locs,

Ey.

I be calling

Cops

On the ops,

Shut that dog up!

If I even show up at the place,

Then I got product!

I keep a code of conduct,

Do it for the bag,

But you won’t see me with a product.

I ain’t tryna fuck with n***as,

If I need a confirm,

I’m not Natalie for now, but cross 'cause I’m a nun-nun.

AGENT 1

LOL, that’s enough.

AGENT 2

I agree.

BLU THA GURU

This ain’t no fun no more,

I lost too much weight so I can’t run no more.

Ain’t got a number though,

I’m on the honor roll.

I might rent a yacht

And end up in the harbor though.

BITCH, I WANT SOME PIZZA!

’Bout to call the plug,

It’s Monday morning,

Finna re-up.

Bitch, I did a relay,

I got married with a prenup.

Call that n***a Charlie Brown

’Cause he be on some peanuts.

I can’t chase a motherfucker,

Bitch, I need some

PENIS.

Bring them in a Cadillac

And send them in a

PRIUS.

They be on some slavery,

But I been tryna

FREE US.

I been on the

KETO,

Keep them bagels in the

FREEZER.

Bitch, it’s Monday morning,

What you doing in the club?

BACK TO THE MONITOR ROOM:

The two AGENTS track the sub-vocal audio waves, cross-referencing biometric signatures against cosmic mainframe records.

AGENT 1

You’re right. That’s not Ms. Nunn.

AGENT 2

They switched it.

AGENT 1

Correct.

AGENT 2

And by "they," you mean—?

AGENT 1

He.

AGENT 2

So it is him.

AGENT 1

Facts.

AGENT 2

What do you think he wants?

AGENT 1

He’s trying to find the other Tritarians.

AGENT 2

How do you know that?

AGENT 1

...I recently found out... I may be Tritarian.

AGENT 2

—So you have a connection?

AGENT 1

Negative. I’ve been taking some side work decrypting languages for the fourth chapter of the Pritherion Hyphex.

AGENT 2

So you have access to Tritarian knowledge vaults by right of passage. Interesting genetics.

AGENT 1

Maybe.

AGENT 2

Well, I stand corrected. Maybe you aren’t hopeless after all.

AGENT 1

No, I’m hopeless. Useless, maybe not.

AGENT 2

Don’t get ahead of yourself.

AGENT 1

—I’m not.

A beat.

AGENT 1 (CONT'D)

Or—I won’t.

[The Festival Project ™]

MUSIC CUE: "Lady Madonna" (The Beatles - Love Version) plays as the scene transitions: MONTAGE.

INT. STUDIO 8H - SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - NIGHT

JIMMY FALLON pays a visit to the SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE set, taking in the environment with candor and nostalgia.

Suddenly, an OBJECT arcs across Studio 8H and hits Jimmy Fallon square in the face.

KAM PATTERSON (O.S.)

Ten points!

ASHLEY PADILLA

What IS that?!

JEREMY CULHANE

(nervous laughter)

Ahahahahah!

The object lands on the floor. UPON CLOSER INSPECTION, it appears to be a freshly severed HUMAN HEART

JANE WICKLINE

Um. I think it’s—

ASHLEY PADILLA

Don’t touch that. 

JEREMY CULHANE

We’re not going to tell anybody about this.

JANE WICKLINE

...Is it still beating?!

JEREMY CULHANE

Shh. Shut up.

KAM PATTERSON

What are you doing with it?

JEREMY CULHANE

With what?

[beat]

KAM PATTERSON

(blank faced)

...With what?

JANE WICKLINE

👀

DJ NOTES: 

{ADHD DISTRACTION IMMINENT} 

Internet friends><>Star Wars><>< Animals, Martin Garrix

... but I think I’ve already done that exact mix already.

MEANWHILE

INT. JEREMY'S DRESSING ROOM / PARNASSUS LAB 

PROFESSOR PARNASSUS (played by JEREMY CULHANE) stands maniacally over THE HEART in his makeshift alchemical lab, as it beats with a GLOWING GREEN AURA from its assembled GATE.

He leans in closer, drooling at the prospect of his most recent capture; he not only believes it to be, but knows it is indeed the famed HEART OF ION OF ITHIOS lore; a folk legend, but now his own, residing in his lab.

His SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE castmate SAIDA enters, after a couple of knocks at the door. Suddenly the lighting shifts, as he is taken off guard.

SAIDA

Um.

JEREMY CULHANE

Hey.

(clears throat)

Ahem. [I mean]

Oh, hiiiii.

SAIDA

Yeah.

JEREMY CULHANE

Ahem. Yeah.

SAIDA

So you have an evil lab in your dressing room?

JEREMY CULHANE

(shrugs)

It came like this.

SAIDA

OK. Mine has antlers on the wall; I’m trying to know how to feel about that.

JEREMY CULHANE

Disingenuous, perhaps.

SAIDA

I agree.

He fails to turn around, deflated, still hovering over the glowing heart with his instruments.

SAIDA (CONT'D)

...Are you coming to lunch?

JEREMY CULHANE

...Yes.

SAIDA

(deadpan)

All right.

JEREMY CULHANE

’K.

SAIDA

All right.

JEREMY CULHANE

OK.

SAIDA

All right.

SAIDA exits, shutting the door gently and turning around. 

INT. 8H HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

KENAN THOMPSON is directly behind her, almost miraculously.

KENAN THOMPSON

He has it.

SAIDA

Yes.

KENAN THOMPSON

Perfect. Follow me to my chambers.

SAIDA

I ordered lunch.

KENAN THOMPSON

IT WILL WAIT.

SAIDA sighs, disgruntled, and follows KENAN; they lift their HOODED ROBES in synchronicity.

{Enter The Multiverse}

EXT. ISLES OF YUM - DAY

A herald sounds an alarm from the battlement.

HERALD

THE DUKE ARCHIBALD OF NEVERWHETHER HAS ARRIVED!

CHAMBERLAIN

YOUR MAJESTY! AT ONCE, READY THE EMPIRE!

SOLDIER

BUT—Your Majesty!

CHAMBERLAIN

AT ONCE! Before—

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG enters rapidly, her royal attire trailing behind her.

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG

WHEA IS HEH?!

CHAMBERLAIN

—Where is whom?!

SOLDIER

Your Majesty—

CHAMBERLAIN

Ugh, Sire.

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG

WHEA IS THE DUKE, ARCHIBALD?!

CHAMBERLAIN

Ahem, descending quickly, Your Triumph.

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG

UNREMARKABLE.

CHAMBERLAIN

Agreed, Your Royal—

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG

I MUST REBUKE HIM AT ONCE!

CHAMBERLAIN

Your Highness.

PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG

AT ONCE!

CHAMBERLAIN

Ahem, very well.

High above, JANE WICKLINE flaps her wings and defends from the cavernous rooftop hideaway.

JANE WICKLINE

Okays.

{Enter The Multiverse} 

[The Festival Project ™ ] 

© Copyright The Complex Collective 

Unstoppable.Co

Hahaha.

I’m up under the plug 

I put the stuff under the rug and then I gave my love a hug 

Cause I knew I would never see the best of him

I wonder what would happen if the glove fit; 

Perhaps the earth would suddenly turn perfect 

And the dirt out back where dirt is

I got the rumble of the subway under my feet 

I got the children or the whole world under my teet 

I got a number in my notebook that I’m trying to meet 

I’m stuck on repeat, cause I eat the teeth of the week 

My knot’s ruthless; 

I showed you rubies but I didn’t mean to do this 

So don’t approach if you don’t wear those broaches, 

I used to live with roaches, 

And now I got teams of the people looking for me 

Asking where the coach is

Not a purse

I put a problem in reverse and 

Made his humor even worse 

Heard a rumor he divorced 

But didn’t hear you heard it first from me, 

I made a gallery of secrets, 

But subliminally leaked it 

I don’t own not a one Prada 

I got a lot of problems, 

But I ain’t get a therapist to talk about em 

Bout to put a rock inside a fountain and then light it up 

I write it up and hide a book inside of dem

I'm in the center of a circle of snakes; 

The only mistake I seem to make 

Is being sacred 

They

Tried me set me up with butter faces and balloons l 

But paid attention to the tunes 

That I was writing dude since citing Blu 

I had to spend a night or two inside of you 

True or false. 

False. 

Where the fuck’s the motherfucking sauce? 

I want some pasta; 

I’m on another lost cause 

Probably finna boss, 

Cause I been on one 

Bout to shop at Ross 

I’m on the west coast 

Where the fuck’s my French toast 

Ordered up a trauma 

One a billion off a crop duster, 

Conspiracy, 

You probably can’t hear this 

 You keep on getting near to me 

But I go ear to ear with them 

Jimmy crack corn 

And also 

Pornography 

Hahas again. 

Never forget 

I’m interested in the architecture. 

 It almost never what’s inside 

This morning I think I died, 

Just knowing I would sit in this line 

In mu own mind, 

Wasting my whole time 

Inside a notebook 

Feeling like I’m lying to myself, 

To say that I’ve been healthy, 

More like happier than ever; 

Which I’ve realized, isn’t even happy at all 

I’m in a fight over motorcycles for Christ sakes 

This just isn’t right ey, 

I can’t wait to Friday 

Cause I got a

Craving for Satan. 

I may forget my ibuprofen aspirin 

Every now and then 

But we were never friends, and it depends what kind of world your in on whether this will make a difference 

Or just begin another lesson, 

This is part of the regression, 

I was bound to get in a wreck 

Or in a fender bender 

At one point or another 

The dirty motherfucker cut me off 

And didn’t have his blinker on 

And wreaked of vodka 

Everytime he speaks to me 

Or he responds

He’s really on some other shit 

I think a fucking astronaut or something

Cause I was dreaming 

Or screaming for your consciousness 

I’m optionless and watching reruns of Oprah 

Stuck inside this opera house like hostages 

Cause I’m a fucking moron, 

Colin, 

Pull the plug 

I’m Jost a Scarlet 

Joe- Hanson, as Tom is. 

Ahdgh. 

SONA enters, clutching her left ribcage. 

She appears to have been STABBED. 

Don’t say stabbed. 

For all I know, that might happen. 

Fucking magical idiots. 

Imbiciles! 

You know what. You’re right. I’ll fix it, 

She is [quite obviously] WOUNDED. 

DAVID 

Sona! Hello. 

SONA 

Yeah. 

DAVID 

You look nice. 

SONA 

I always do. 

DAVID 

Except you have a little something on your— 

[he realizes her wound] 

DAVID 

Oh.

SONA 

Yeah. 

DAVID 

…should I ask, or?

SONA 

He stabbed me again. 

DAVID

—Conan?! 

SONA 

Who else would keep stabbing me?

DAVID 

You’re right.

SONA 

Could you— 

?

DAVID

Certainly. 

He exits, leaving SONA to her own accord; 

She removes a small wrap of sorts from a cabinet above the pantry, pulling with her teeth, before activating it, reaching for what appears to be a WAND before wrapping it around herself; she partially collapses on the counter and takes a sigh of relief, before pointing the wand briefly at her ailments; she only begins to heal barely when suddenly, she hears her employer— and magical companion— working his way in. 

She takes a sigh of dilapidated defeat, calling out. 

SONA

Ugh— don’t come in here! 

CONAN 

Are you serious? How long could this be taking? It’s just a stab wound.

SONA

I’m not ready for you yet. 

CONAN 

I would have thought for you to be halfway up the canyons by now. 

SONA 

— through the same place twice. 

CONAN 

What if I use my wand? Would that be making any difference? It’s quicker. 

SONA 

It is. 

CONAN 

So it’s settled then. 

SONA 

Well, go ahead then. 

CONAN 

—I don’t have it. 

SONA 

Then why did you say anything—?! 

CONAN 

I was just affirming it’s quickness. 

SONA 

Are you serious 

CONAN 

It is superior. 

SONA 

Forget it, I’m already finished. 

CONAN 

Well then—I guess I’m useless. 

SONA 

You’re an idiot. 

CONAN 

Did it leave a scar?

SONA 

Probably. Last time it did. 

CONAN looks at his CANE SWORD with a dignified approval. 

CONAN 

That is nice, then. Remind me to send a thank you gift for him. 

SONA 

I already did. 

CONAN 

(Scoffs) 

Well, that’s ironic; didja consider whether you’d be getting stabbed with it?

SONA 

[Yeah]

—I contemplated. 

CONAN

Go get cleaned up. 

You look disheveled. 

SONA just groans and raises herself from atop the counter. 

GORLEY enters with a boba tea. 

GORLEY 

He stabbed you again.

SONA 

Masterful observation. 

SONA exits, healed but, barely. 

GORLEY

I wish I had magic. 

CONAN 

Me too. Then I’d stab you. 

GORLEY giggles and sips his boba tea. 

GORLEY 

Well then, kinda glad I don’t.

CONAN quickly whips around and zaps him with his wand, oblitherating his BOBA TEA. 

CONAN 

(Mumbles smugly) 

Can’t fix that with magic. 

CONAN strides away.

GORLEY sighs. He is covered in delicious BOBA tea, however the BOBA has spread across the floor. DAVID returns and stands at the doorway. 

DAVID 

Oh. 

{Enter The Multiverse} 

“The Secret Life of Sona”

SUNNI BLŪ has just purchased a house nestled quaintly in the vacinity of former late night host CONAN O’BRIEN, and is alarmed that he is huge, has bright red hair, and can frequently enough be seen JOGGING that it IRKS her. 

SUNNI BLŪ 

YO, WHAT. 

AGH. 

[LATER] 

UGH.

[AGAIN] 

UFGH. 

—!! 

MORGAN. [HANNAH EINBEINDER]

MORGAN

What. What. 

SUNNI BLU

What is this. 

MORGAN

What is what?

SUNNI BLU

What’s this. 

MORGAN

What are you pointing at. 

[CONAN O’BRIEN JOGGING, PANTING]  

SUNNI BLU

How can you not see that?! 

MORGAN

See what! What am I looking at?! 

[she points out the window at CONAN jogging by.]

MORGAN

…that man?

SUNNI BLU

Is that a “man"?

MORGAN

Um… yeah? I…yeah, I think that’s Conan O’ Brien, actually.

SUNNI BLU

Ah. You know him. 

MORGAN

No?

SUNNI BLU (gesturing to red-headedness)

He’s your kind. 

MORGAN

Uhh—- 

[she shakes her head, then looks back toward the window] 

MORGAN CONT’D

Oh, you mean redheaded. 

SUNNI BLU

That’s…exactly what I meant. 

MORGAN

I thought you meant white. 

SUNNI BLU

You are white. 

MORGAN

Yeah but—

SUNNI BLU

[a blank stare] 

MORGAN CONT’D

Nevermind. 

SUNNI BLU

So you know him. 

MORGAN

Uhh—I mean, I know of him–yeah–

SUNNI BLU

He’s your uncle or something. 

MORGAN

–??? 

SUNNI BLU

I see the resemblance. 

MORGAN

👀

[SUNNI grabs a bottle of vodka from the cabinet; MORGAN looks at the clock. It is predictably 7:48 AM.]

SUNNI BLU

Tell him stop trespassing. 

MORGAN

What? He’s not trespassing, he’s on the sidewalk. 

SUNNI BLU

Stretching 8 feet in any direction is considered trespassing—

That includes vertically. 

MORGAN

What! No it doesn't! No it’s not!

SUNNI BLU

That’s California law, that’s what they’re designating it. I have friends in the Senate, you know.

MORGAN

Are you serious?

SUNNI BLU

Never mind, I’ll tell him. I need the paper anyway. 

SUNNI heads towards the door. 

MORGAN

Since when do you read the— Sunni, wait— 

Since when do you read the paper?! 

SUNNI BLU

I don’t I just enjoy throwing it. 

MORGAN 

No, don’t— 

[SUNNI has already catapulted a dummy loaded LA Times through the air at astonishingly high speed— although it’s just a rolled newspaper, CONAN happens to be running at a remarkably high speed with his extended gate on a STEEP DOWNHILL GRADE; 

The trajectory of the impact from the newspaper hitting him in the face, quite squarely between the eyes forces him to loose hit footing completely, propel forward, and ROLL down the remainder of the street, nearly flipping over entirely into a summersault cartwheel of sorts, rolling uncontrollably over the pristine asphalt. 

CONAN

OOF. 

SUNNI BLŪ 

(Nonchalantly shrugging) 

{ENTER THE MULTIVERSE}

C’cxell Soleïl

Author, Poet, Producer & Creator 

Musician

EXCERPT: 

THE CHRONICLES OF WTF, Season 1, Episode 2 titled ‘3 Man War’

CONAN (V.O.) CONAN O’BRIEN is an IMMORTAL CITIZEN, tasked with the arduous duties of landscaping the parallels and paradoxes in TIME. Every day I live a little longer…

In a vintage mirror, He examines the heavy bags under his eyes, his pale, white skin, cakes with freckles and soon, with makeup— the picturesque Californian day shines ever brightly, even golden under the plumes of perfect white clouds floating, or even dancing effortlessly across the clear blue sky— though there’s something looming— always looming— over him personally.

Director’s note; It might be worth it to find a full length mirror that Conan is actually just a little taller than, so that he has to slouch to look into it. It should be actual vintage, the type that swivels and is perhaps ovular, and should be painted a pale yellow.

JAMES V.O. This is my room.

INT. 30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA. STUDIO 6B. DAY

A LARGE, enthusiastic crowd—the AUDIENCE lifts to their feet, and cheers, applauding— the HOST takes his mark on what appears to be a GOLDEN FOUR LEAF CLOVER.

JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) These are my toys.

The whimsy of GAMES being played flash by in the foreground; a troupe of DANCERS take the the stage— the AUDIENCE cheers and laughs.

JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) My name is James…

Suddenly, the studio lights turn OFF;

JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) –But people forget that.

A faint echo of STEVE HIGGINS announces the HOST as “Jimmy Fallon!”; the applause and laughter fades out with the clamp of the lights.

…Now full black and white, the stage is empty, the seats, a striking red, now monochromatic and abandoned. The studio is empty. The room is silent. But JAMES mind is rushed with thoughts.

INT, BACKSTAGE, DRESSING ROOM

JAMES (JIMMY FALLON) begins to take his TIE off in the mirror, then changes his mind— he tightens it instead, still looking at the mirror into his own dark eyes. Then, a voice approaches from behind him, standing in the doorway.

CC He ties his own tie!

He turns around and pivots on a dime, straightening his back.

CC is a woman in her mid thirties, but presents herself much more maturely.

CC (CONT’D) Surprised to see me?

JAMES I do a lot of things myself, actually.

CC No arguments there.

An unspoken tension, perhaps, deep resentment or disdain for one another sits heavily in the small space between them.

A long pause; CC seems almost blank under the darkness of her SUNGLASSES, however wreaking dominance— this almost seems to shrink the long and tall host into the uncertainty of a small child. Still, he holds his ground.

JAMES Why are you doing this?

CC —are you afraid?

JAMES I was always afraid. Now I’m petrified.

CC feigns a small smile, if not a smirk of all expressions chosen for the worst of moments.

CC Gorgeous. I’ll be seeing you.

Without even such a turning to walk away the woman seems to have vanished, but still the HOST calls down the hallway as if phone after her.

JAMES It’s a wonder you’ll be seeing anything under those sunglasses!

CC’s voice from the opposite side of the hallway, if not seemingly somewhat above him answers to call back.

CC Call your friends.

JAMES is disgruntled, and now the woman, vanished, if not having left a heavy air of some sort of impending call to action. He sighs, and a dog approaches from behind him as he stands in the doorway— from inside the dressing room, but also apparently out of nowhere.

JAMES Bongo.

He leans down to pet the seemingly familiar beast.

JAMES (CONT’D) What are you doing out of your coffin?

Then, an unknown voice that seems to come itself in ghostly shackles with the rumblings of time in the midsts of the now silent room, the buzzing florexent lights buzzing above with only just a glimmer of light, but just the slightest comfort of mystery.

VOICE (unseen) It’s a ghost dog— nothing says he ought to be confined to a wooden box.

Now JAMES seems worried, the dog unbothered— he straightens out from hunching over the happy creature and squares himself to face the inside of the room. A luminescent and mystifying creature stands before him, still yet unseen.

VOICE Hello, Jimmy.

The silver lined glow of a supernatural pale white and neon blue brings just the slightest hint of fear into JAMES’ dark brown eyes.

CUT TO BLACK.

The screen remains void of light for a beat. Slowly, the letter W fades in, centered on the screen. A beat later, T fades in beside it. A final beat later, F fades in.

W — T — F

The remaining letters then manifest, prefixing the initialism in a single motion to complete the full title:

THE CHRONICLES OF WTF

FADE OUT.

CREDITS roll.

0-1-2-52-5-2, 

I forgot this was about

Time, 

And it’s conversion, the conversation; 

Don’t get complacent or start complaining.  You art is waning like the silver moon you call to; 

You’re right, this is all you 

This, your alter, 

This Atreyu, 

They’ll betray you, betrate you and then make you 

Spray, too 

Go ahead and give me ten seconds, 

Forget to bring dinner l? This is indentured servitude, 

Don’t you get an attitude with me, 

Just some me gratitude 

You have the baddest ass, 

But in the baddest mood, 

I’m mad at you 

It does even matter dude 

I want to pitter-patter you; 

Rain 

Pitty Pat, 

So you remember that 

Pretty pat, 

Picking up her hat 

From the laundry mat, 

Wear a mask 

But I forgot to ask, 

What kind of hound is that, 

Basset, 

Angela 

This is not Los Angeles, 

There’s a lot of angles here, 

There’s a lot of managers, 

Passengers, passin blunts 

I was gonna ask you out to lunch, 

But yo, you kind of suck 

Once you get a lick or two: 

Let me get a pic or two 

She didn’t even look at you,

Maybe it’s your longitude or lattifltude 

But he’s getting better at it 

He’s really getting better at it; 

What is west in 

Don’t forget to hold you chest in 

Forget to hold your questions for later l, 

Go ahead and ask them 

Blurt them out 

Don’t put out your cigarette, 

Not yet 

You got regrets

But don’t express them 

But he’s getting better at it 

He’s really getting better at it; 

He be’s the king from that sexual repression 

And aggression and depression 

And then shit you can’t express 

When you get sick [isjxe] the television 

Are you listening

Or are you really in your head again

I said again 

I didn’t mean to see you in the medicine 

But this is what the red is in 

Regression 

Just another lesson 

Take it from the best, 

And don’t forget to put the check in 

The bank

I got the chicken sitting in a tub of butter 

So come on, you motherfucker 

Do you want a bucket of this? 

— 

Interception, 

It’s still corruption 

I went to brunch with 

A bunch of numb nuts, 

It isn’t nothing 

I’ve had enough, man 

Lorne said I can do better 

But I didn’t get a jew, 

Better than 

I got a new number, 

New husband 

I went donuts on the chromas 

Those other girls be doing bottle service, got diplomas 

Only fans, and do Pilates 

That is not me 

I’m a lost cause, 

But this is not a comic strip 

It’s just another trip, 

A chicken strip 

Remember when I said that shit about the recipe!

Well guess what 

It gets done in just fucking second l, 

If you really want to test it

There’s a pressure sensor 

Aghz. Yes. I didn’t think I was gonna be able to get that line. What did you get yourself into? 

It’s clear by this image your miserable 

The school ain’t got a principal, 

The book was written on a principal 

And if your open to the crypt 

The shit will open up and 

Kill you all 

To solve a riddle and a ritual 

Now that’s what I call killing two birds with one stone 

Just leave me a lone, 

Before I give you all a boner; 

In my heart I’m still a stoner 

In my art I’m still a goner, 

Really I was born here 

But that’s another problem

This motherfucking show ain’t gonna solve em

This mother fucker got a lot of balls huh 

This mother fucker turned into a baller, 

I just been getting smaller 

I woke up in a stall in a mall,offa shots with Kanye

I don’t even want play  

I don’t take a lot; pray, 

I’m in the parking lot, hah 

I bought myself a cobra, 

I been on a corvette, 

Running out of storage,

Call me Goldilocks, 

Cause all I want is porridge, 

I been straight shook up since north ridge, 

I’m morbid, 

They put me in the torture 

Chamber 

Dor the profit  

I’m probably gonna die tho; 

I’m probably gonna die tho l 

I’m probably gonna die tho, 

I finally made my mind up 

I’m not an alcoholic, 

But my moms and 

My pops was; 

I went through polarity shifts 

Since I been in this shit 

I don’t Tik tok or twitch, 

Do look like a kid to you. 

Shit. 

Let me open up the fridge for you; 

I am Sarah Silverman, 

I guess this is the interview 

He probably isn’t into you 

For several different purposes 

But this is one of them, 

You’re in the middle of a centrifugal refuge 

I probably shouldn’t let you, 

But,

Come and meet my nephew, 

Cause I feel like he would get you— 

Just a little bit of religion 

If you step inside my kitchen 

Then you better pay attention to the scripture, 

I ripped uou, a rapture and captured a caption, 

A captain, a practice, a rapture 

Wild in cause I’m young, kid cudi. 

The irony is that CC is amofafs the oldest of souls. 

I’m parked outside the Apple Store, 

Dressed like a progressive whore, 

I stopped to write some lore, 

But don’t remember what I came for;

I was in the same four corners of the world once 

I probably was your girl once 

But in this time 

It’s Kirsten *Dunces*, 

However you spell it 

Still a dunce or something 

Stuck inroads a corvette 

On the surface, it’s a deck ze 

But I’m surfing more 

So splurging on insurance 

Hahaha.

I’m up under the plug 

I put the stuff under the rug and then I gave my love a hug 

Cause I knew I would never see the best of him

I wonder what would happen if the glove fit; 

Perhaps the earth would suddenly turn perfect 

And the dirt out back where dirt is

I got the rumble of the subway under my feet 

I got the children or the whole world under my teet 

I got a number in my notebook that I’m trying to meet 

I’m stuck on repeat, cause I eat the teeth of the week 

My knot’s ruthless; 

I showed you rubies but I didn’t mean to do this 

So don’t approach if you don’t wear those broaches, 

I used to live with roaches, 

And now I got teams of the people looking for me 

Asking where the coach is

Not a purse

I put a problem in reverse and 

Made his humor even worse 

Heard a rumor he divorced 

But didn’t hear you heard it first from me, 

I made a gallery of secrets, 

But subliminally leaked it 

I don’t own not a one Prada 

I got a lot of problems, 

But I ain’t get a therapist to talk about em 

Bout to put a rock inside a fountain and then light it up 

I write it up and hide a book inside of dm

I'm in the center of a circle of snakes; 

The only mistake I seem to make 

Is being sacred 

They

Tried me set me up with butter faces and balloons l 

But paid attention to the tunes 

That I was writing dude since citing Blu 

I had to spend a night or two inside of you 

True or false. 

False. 

Where the fuck’s the motherfucking sauce? 

I want some pasta; 

I’m on another lost cause 

Probably finna boss, 

Cause I been on one 

Bout to shop at Ross 

I’m on the west coast 

Where the fuck’s my French toast 

Ordered up a trauma 

One a billion off a crop duster, 

Conspiracy, 

You probably can’t hear this 

 You keep on getting near to me 

But I go ear to ear with them 

Jimmy crack corn 

And also 

Pornography 

Hahas again. 

Never forget 

I’m interested in the architecture. 

 It almost never what’s inside 

This morning I think I died, 

Just knowing I would sit in this line 

In mu own mind, 

Wasting my whole time 

Inside a notebook 

Feeling like I’m lying to myself, 

To say that I’ve been healthy, 

More like happier than ever; 

Which I’ve realized, isn’t even happy at all 

I’m in a fight over motorcycles for Christ sakes 

This just isn’t right ey, 

I can’t wait to Friday 

Cause I got a

Craving for Satan. 

I may forget my ibuprofen aspirin 

Every now and then 

But we were never friends, and it depends what kind of world your in on whether this will make a difference 

Or just begin another lesson, 

This is part of the regression, 

I was bound to get in a wreck 

Or in a fender bender 

At one point or another 

The dirty motherfucker cut me off 

And didn’t have his blinker on 

And wreaked of vodka 

Everytime he speaks to me 

Or he responds

He’s really on some other shit 

I think a fucking astronaut or something

Cause I was dreaming 

Or screaming for your consciousness 

I’m optionless and watching reruns of Oprah 

Stuck inside this opera house like hostages 

Cause I’m a fucking moron, 

Colin, 

Pull the plug 

I’m Jost a Scarlet 

Joe- Hanson, as Tom is.