The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

ST∆rT

I'm tryna start a family,

You're trying to start a War

I'm tryna start a family,

You're trying to start a War

I'm tryna start a family,

You're trying to start a War

I'm tryna start a family,

You're trying to start a War

0v3r.

BPM: they don't really care about us.

You look like a red light

Standing in the friendzone, so

Give me the spotlight

I'll take over, t-over-over

I want the limelight

I'll show ya, s-show ya, show ya

You can read a mind, right?

Let's take the world over, d-

Over over, d-over

Over over, d-over

Over over, d-over

Take a pic,

Move over, over

Over over, d-over

D-over, d-over-over

D-over, d-over-over

D-over, d-over-over

They starting a race war

They starting a race war

They starting a race war

I ain't for it

They starting a race war

They starting a race war

They starting a race war

Starting with Kayla Lauren

Aww, aren't you adorable

Open the door and then

Close it up for her;

This is your future

This is dystopia

You were not good enough

You are not good enough

She does it by the book, without a thought

If God is awesome, she must have forgot something

Huh

They started us all on it

Blondes against others

The girl next door was the

Was the one

Was the one

Was the one

Was the one

I wonder what ugly funny person comes

In the

Damn,

I forgot how to spell

denumire

D-E-N-Ū-M-I-R-E

That means

———————— [flatline]

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Why am I so angry?

I've been praying, I've been praying

It's been 1,000 days

Been playing games,

Nobody came to save you, eh?

Hey,

Are you okay?

And the answer is maybe

Maybe, maybe, mayday mayday

I've been…

Spending time, desensitizing

Blind, been trying to find my mind

|

I've been,

Staying inside, deciding

How to run from father time

(I am)

I've been,

Keeping tears inside my eyes,

I'm hypnotized,

I am the light

|

I've been,

Staying up at night,

And praying,

playing “lost my mind”

Walking away from the Bass Parade,

Shamefully,

Saying

“I'm okay,

I'm not crazy,

I'm just famous,

Blame the player,

I just made the game”

I made it

I don't want it to be infinite,

I just want to fit the picture

You get it?

Burned the shirt,

April First,

Inscripted, it said

Everything around me

Revolves around Christmas

(It didn't, I flipped it,

Don't know why this shit's scripted,

If nobody's into it

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Our birthdays last a year--

Woah--thats awesome--!

--and they're miserable.

GOD.

Happy Birthday, tomorrow

I love you today

—I love you asleep

—I love you awake

And when you wake up, the first thing I'll say is Happiest, Happiest Happy Birthday

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

A perfect world

To find perfection in love;

And to find love in everything...

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Ted, Ted, and Ted's accidental initiation into The Psychonauts began as a result of the friends, originally three Fraternity Brothers and Recent Graduates of UCLA attending festivals consistently together, each using various Mind-Altering substances to attract (“preferably female”) partygoers.

Over the course of the series in short (often light and comedic) scenes, where the trio often stumble into reality-shattering situations by sheer coincidence or seemingly random occurrences. But as we later learn about the multilayered world of interdimensional existence, Everything happens for a reason; Nothing is Impossible, Never Say Never, Be Careful what You Wish For-- and, of course-- there are no coincidences.

These three seemingly simple-minded creatures begin as “wooks”, Shirtless Party Boys eager to rave. Often [irresponsibly] experimenting with copious amounts of psychedelics, the boys often find themselves unknowingly transported through various wormholes, teleportals, time warps, and Voids created through the music at each festival they attend, sometimes confusedly landing them in alternate parallels and altered dimensions of reality, sometimes even spiraling into three separate dimensions at once, thus creating new points along The Grid, from which the parallels and dimensions are woven together and interconnected through, time, space, circumstance, and choice in any conscious--ultimately (though, most often by dumb luck or happy accidents) expanding the universe, prompting the Ascended Masters to scout Ted, Ted, and Ted as a unified team to be inducted into The Psyconauts, eventually becoming an integral and important

Dillon (Theodore) Francis, while working towards an Alliance between the Bampheramphs and Psychonauts uses his bewittingly bestowed middle name to act as an Alternate ‘Ted', or sometimes work jointly as The QuadraSquad, a “pop-up” rave squad which acts as a recruitment team, and on emergency search-and-rescue missions, collecting key components along the collapse and collision of worlds and within the fabric of space, time, and reality.

Chak Chel and Dillon Francis put the Teds through a rigorous (and extremely senseless) crash-course in DJing, forming a popular Trio, whose name varies depending on the dimensions in which they will preform, secretly setting tactical bassdrops, emitting coded frequencies to communicate covertly with other entities, opening intentional time warps, portals, and wormholes through their DJ sets.

Time holes where the Trio are in two (or sometimes, more, and alternately infinite) places at once are placed as easter eggs throughout the series; In some cases, The Three Teds are even festival attendees at the festivals which in a neighboring reality they are also headlining, even at points transporting their own selves through timespace--whether intentionally, or coincidentally.

As the Teds reach the high ranks of The Psychonauts, even eventually (and unwillingly) becoming separated by the obligation of duty, being assigned to separate sanctions of Leadership by skillset as a “draft” is enacted to strengthen their forces, as they prepare for The FInal Battle (actually multiple (infinite) battles occurring concurrently throughout the expanse of reality, even stretching into the outer realms of ‘inexistence' as the collective consciousness grows, reaching Ascension, and allowing certain realities to reach the New Paradigm.

Though evolved over time as the series progresses, The Teds maintain their quirky wookness, questionable (sometimes inappropriate) sense of fashion, and hilariously signature fratboy attitudes and antics, reunifying as a powerful Trio once more towards the conclusion of the series, appearing elementally in various ways at most crucial plot points, revealing the creation through all of their endeavors and shenanigans, a brand new universe within The Infinite Multivetrse.

(“TED”, where everything/everyone is “Ted”, This universe collides with “Everyone's A DJ”, and, as an infinitely expanding and integral part of the universe, appears optically as “TBD” (To Be Determined, Where Cliffhangers, Plot Holes, Continuity Errors and other traditional elements of Theatrical Film are represented throughout the SUPA Saga and overall festival project.)

During the Wookness:

Ted: Yo, how much for this? (Points To Kandi Cuff)

...How much-what?

Ted: How much is it? Like what, $50 bucks?

50 bucks?!

Ted: Oh shit, my bad--festival prices, huh? Sorry yo, I got a $50, the rest is big bills. Doyou have an online shop?

Are you trying to buy my kandi? You can't *buy* kandi!

Ted: Pssshhh!

Ted: All I buy is Kandi!

YOu can't sell kandi, youre supposed to trade it.. That's why you make it.

Ted: Yeah bro, I've done trades.

(Flashback)

Raver Girl: Wanna Trade Kandi?

Ted: Show Us your Titties!

The girl looks to her friend, as if to say “should I?” her friend, wearing dark Ray Bans, and sternly nods her head in approval, her friend shrugs drunkenly as if to say“fuck it, why not?”

While the friend swiftly pulls out her iPhone, the other lifts her shirt, flashing the happy Teds, dancing in Fratboy Delight; Ted, standing adjacent to the straight-faced girl in Sunglasses, sneakily scrunches down to get a good picture; their [Tri-Lens] iPhone cameras now directly aligned. face to face, (or rather, eye-to-eye) ((Or, eye-to-eye, rather,)) (((Rather, eye-to-eye,))). snapping his picture, as the flash from her camera blinds him

Ted:UH, Yeah you can..They sell it online.

Online? Whats--what? SELL?

Ted: Fuck yeah dude.

Ted: YEEE, KANDI KID 4 LIFE

YOU ARE NOT A KANDI--Ki--YOU CAn'T SELL KANDI.

Woah, chill.

No “chill” no selling Kandi! NO! NO!

What

Chak Chel's Bedtime Stories

Chak Chel, the GOOGLE kids' favorite babysitter, tells stories of infinitely expanding adventures of the multidimensions of timespace

-Honey, I Killed Myself.

-Honey, I Shrunk The Skrillex

-Who Killed Sunni Blu?

-Who Killed SupaCree?

-The Curious Case of SupaCree

-DILLONCEPTION

Trapped in an intensely infinite and ever-expanding and/or consistently densening Vividly Lucid Multidimensionally (And Musically) Interconnected Omni-Galactic Eternal Space-Time “Loop”, [DJ] Dillon Francis must frustratingly attempt to multitask through an “apparently unlimited”[ (I TOLD YOU, IN-FIN-ITE. INFINITY.)] battle his Masked nemesis,

Key: Brackets [] Director's Notes, Production Details, typically indicating a tie-in with other entries, or crossovers from other consecutively (or, sometimes, alternately) running series in the saga, more frequently as the “Multiverse” expands, or as the (Technical Omniverse, Eventually) in which the series' specific “(U)niverse” ‘collapsing', being progressively stated repeatedly throughout the series to be both compressing, and expanding respectively; However, as the

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure...

Dill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (They cross paths with Bill and Ted, in their search for Two of the missing Teds; Alternately Ted and Ted discover how ‘Three's a Crowd” makes sense, as they happily gallavant frat-tastically through the galaxy, in search of a Sexy Space-Alien Rave Bae (The Amazonian Women from futurama, live action, Saved by the Heroes from futurama)

(on) Having ascended into the dimension after her most recent death, SupaCree (not yet known as SupaCree), lands “God”, an Ascended Dimension where she can actually communicate clearly with the Ascended Masters, being closer to ‘God' (her)self, but not directly being able to interact with her; conversely, she can scan the plains of reality from “above”, though later we learn there is no “up” or “down” in “Total Omnipotence”, the post-conscience Infinite Existence Experienced in the Limitless (INFINITE) Energy of Being Everything, Everyone, and Everywhere at once; Simultaneously Nonexistant, Being “Nothing”, “Nobody” and “Nowhere” at once, all represented variously through the concept of infinite multidimentionality, in our “3” dimensional “Uni-Multi-Omni-Versal” (apparently, I've just been told) SupaCree exists in a Tri-Verse, unbeknownst to even God (her)self to its true Origins, the “final(e)” (but not, ever)

(e) In a random and nearly collapsed alternate fabric of timespace, where the spelling of the name “Cree” is pronounced the same, but spelled simply “Cre”, (though, specifically equally--”by the exact number of times, actually”--mispronounced”, One of the only similarities between the two, sharing the same planetary alignments and cosmic significance and the same parents--however having been conceived with completely different genetic markers: As a result, this alternate version of herself is physically not “opposite”, but differs in physical appearance drastically--at least, for the most part--as more ideally attractive which to The Original's mind-blowing dissatisfaction, (and, also stagnantly egotistical “Very Satisfied” Satisfaction),

But the feeling soon fades when she learns that this reality is on the verge of imminent collapse after the discovery that one subtle, singular synchronicity shared in her actual reality(s)(realities) (which one?) ((Multiple “actual-realities, actually”)) (((Multiple Synchronized Individual Existence Theory, one of the multiple Theories (I) Use to Conceive the (Law) of Evolutionary Infinite Omnipotence, (Everything is Everything/Nothing is Nothing/ God is, as I am/ I am U/All Are One) the aforementioned suggesting the absolute possibility of any circumstance which allows a singular subject with (apparently) “limited” existence, total and complete synchronization at “exact” moment of “Creation”, or “Origin”, and any circumstantially coinciding consecutive synchronizations beyond the limitations eo each respective individual's actual existence or reality.)(Satisfaction, Benny Benassi) (And Apparently, The Biz--because, literally, writing in real-time (What is time) with google. (What's The Biz???) Travelling to 2003, where the event which ties this frail and “practically non-existent” fabric of reality to her own, she eagerly races against the clock (in real time?) ((maybe, unreal time)) (((I am time.))) “I don't believe in time”, later corrected, after being stuck in a Godless world to “The human concept of “time”,/God's not real, or opting to state the phrase more subjectively, “I don't [really}/I kinda don't believe in time,” though as she evolves more rapidly through her progressive Ascension and Elemental Mastery, quickly Surpassing Ascended Mastery as a skilled sorcerer,Visionary Seer, helping her rapidly strengthen the art of Cosmic Alchemy, mastery of (eventually, instant, and respectively infinite manifestation, and matter/antimatter movement and/or manipulation;i.e. The art of Creation.

I.E., Do you even know what “i.e' stands for?

I'll look it up later, I know what its used for.

Look it up.

[Googles i.e, clicks on top most commonly searched]

I.e. and e.g. are both Latin abbreviations. E.g. stands for exempli gratia and means “for example.” I.e. is the abbreviation for id est and means “in other words.” Remember that E is for example (e.g.) and that I and E are the first letters of in essence, an alternative English translation of i.e.

The Original Cree sits perched behind a red

(Ugh, red…)

...A red laptop computer; the love light lost from her dark eyes, through the clear lenses of her cheap, brandless

(Medicaid.)

...brandless black glasses, narrow framed and unbecoming over the shape of her face, the Album ‘Who Killed Matt Maeson” softly plays a somber song, to which she'd normally--at least, if left alone or rarely, in “comfortable company”

(That's, someone you don't necessarily “like”, but still feel comfortable enough to sing around.)

The Scientist, in a higher realm, peaking down through her microscope, watches contently, curiously, and concisely, dialing its lens by a couple turns, as she ponders aloud,

Hm. Wonder what makes that happen, exactly? That's...huh...Hm.

[Her project, a mystery hidden from the audience. She pushes herself back from the desk, reaching for her notebook and jotting quickly her findings, stopping only turn on some [] Music, which blends seamlessly as we fade back into the scene of the drab and unflattering, somewhat “sickeningly” lit, reminiscent of the stagnancy most often observed in a petri dish.]

As the song ‘Cringe' begins to play in the background, the clear picture of the laptop screen fades into a blurred obscurity, as her focus shifts sharply to the warm glowing array of colors of her speaker light her otherwise nearly lifeless eyes, as she is Slightly and softly hypnotized into a series of several simultaneous vivid memories; separate and specifically assorted scenes form, as she remembers “everything” quite at once, A vision weaved into her conscious memories, just as seamlessly; A Web Wrapped with the Fragile Fabric of “Time”, the invisible energy of musical frequencies awaken ones senses and sensibilities--invisible, for some...at least. The light on the speaker, a golden tone, as we cascade into the eye mind;

A flash to a blurry memory, 2017; A slender and handsome longhaired surfer, resurfaces from submersion under the waves, flipping his long hair back with the graceful and slowmotionly seductive snap of the neck, as the sunlight gleaming a golden glow, in the eye of his admirer.

A Flash Of: The Golden Light of the Shining Sun over Santa Monica

A Flash, As she Gently Weeps, as the tears leaving her eyes leave (in a flash of scenes) drops onto her jeans, the sidewalk--all the while, A tiny ant carries a giant leaf, as the spider weaves beneath the tree whose leaves leak streams of pretty streaking and speckled, and leaves glassy droplets stuck in the strings of the spider, still weaving; the rain floods the streams into rivers, which bleed, eventually in the ocean, fanning out into the Seven Seas.

(pacifically, eventually)

Are we reading this, or is this stage direction--production notes? What is this?

Who is “we”?

WE

AVE

A whole flashback unfolds: A steamy shower, thick with the smell sweet candles, leaving steam-less spots of mirror in the flickering heat; A seamless and synchronized transition, as the More Cheery and Upbeat Strings, Beat and melody in the previously playing version, fades seemingly into the steam, as ‘Cringe, Stripped” leads us into the memory, where she sings with the heartbreakingly haunting and soulful sadness, the harmony, her voice blending perfectly over the recording as if it were meant to be; The Duality of Grief. Not quite flashing back, but seen as a translucent overlay, another flash; The Seats of a theatre, the scene in black and white, as the stage lights washout, the flickering dremlike scene, the steam so thick we barely see the details of the singing, with the passion that seems to bleed out the ache of her broken, barely beating heart.

The song rings out, evolving into what just may be, the beginnings of a remix, as more quick flashes slam back-to-back

A flash of: The Scene In The Mercedes

A flash of an ambulance, sirens blaring!

A flash as the scene of A spider sleeping peacefully beneath a leaf, shielded from the rain, which leaves droplets on the strings, on the opposite side of the same tree; Blissfully unaware of the bird, perched just above lurking or something to eat. Neither the spider, nor the other, or the bird or ant are aware of any one-another, or any other world other besides the tree, the flash of a longshot which we see, is unassumingly and unimpressively, “just a tree” a grey and stormy day; A plane takes off up into the heavy rain, droplets changing shape through the window, looking out as the plane lifts off the ground.

The next layer of memories unfold as voiceovers from various quotes, accompanying the song still playing, now beginning to blend with first the stripped version, then the album/studio version, which for a moment, is singularly heard, as the flash of a scene from a more recent memory flashes:

The Digital Clock in the Car Reads, 88.1 in red, The volume is low, almost so low that it can't be heard: she stares out the window on a grey and overcast day, eyes lost and pondering--though they light when her finely tuned ears catch the pitch of the song ‘Cringe', as she excitedly turns the volume up eagerly, listening for a moment--a range of joyful surprise in her expressions, happily pushing up the Translucent Pink Frames, sighing with a smile, as she exclaims,

“WHAT? THIS SONG IS ON THE RADIO NOW?!”

The driver, taken aback but having caught her contagious beam of “happy”

I almost forgot about this song. That was a long time ago...

“Oh...do you know this song?”

I haven't heard it in forever...I forgot it existed. [pause] I can't believe it took that long…

“yeah , it's pretty popular. It's like always on.”

...I can't believe this song...daaaaamn...her excitement settles, as she looks back out of the window, at the grey and rainy day.

So, that's how long it takes…

The blending and fading of the song creates an array of rapidly changing scenes faded, flashing, cut and becoming somehow closer, yet further away at the same time. Colors and shapes, as the sounds that the songs all being played which remain the same, but change, as they create new sound waves; The Three Songs are arranged and rearranged, as are the scenes, pictures, videos, of entertainment stages through the ages, The Festival Culture highlighted in the Inception since The Dawn of Rave, to present day. [Each quote, a voiceover played by an ensemble cast, each made to read any/every line specifically, if unaccompanied by a name.]

The Clips and Sound Combine with Colorful Psychedelic and neon in some scenes even in 3D, (ideally, actually, up to 9D) as music, theatre, television, and flashes of memories and scenes of everything, as the shifting screen changes slightly and steadily with the music, now something of an electronic-meets-acoustic symphony (:UNPLUGGED), still cleanly and seamless in the colorful chaos that is everything, though visually intensely overwhelming, a sensory-stimulating synthesis of “Sound That You Can See”[ *go back for quote from song] The Sountrack now taking us on a Journey through sound, (ideally surround sound, even having speakers and subs somehow mounted from the ceiling, pointing down, pointing up from the ground. With Live Theatre Production Experiences combine more elements representative of the 9 Dimensions, by arranging speakers set outside of the theatre itself--perhaps, if in a Live Theatre setting, where the movie is projected onto a screen or skrim on stage, additional screens canbe projected onto the walls of the theatre, creating potential to use the audience interactively, perhaps arranging for actors seated amongst the audience members, interjecting at the intersections of crossing dimensions with both improvised and rehearsed actions, and or carrying out specific tasks as it related to the plot, the audience, even becoming the stage, as the stage is re-arranged; even becoming a mirror image of the theatre, filling with patrons and gazing into the audience, where cast members reflect a multidimensional portrayal, an interpretive alternate reality of what is happening on stage, unseen off stage, while the film still plays somewhere (or even sometimes, nowhere) as light and sound design give the viewer an experience of senselessness and sensory stimulus, Explaining through experience, representations of conditions; Much like a masterful DJ mixes musical elements in a live setting by reading the crowd, The Ideal Live Production of this Film has the ability to Unify the audience through various interactive activities; an energy-based planned, or even sporadic--based on the audience itself, monitored by The Ringmaster, an unseen (cast) Omnipitence, or ‘The Universe” itself, , as we apply the Values of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect as the Ultra-Fine Line between “Everything” and “Nothing”, in simpler terms: Light and Dark, and finding the balance which allows us, in the “present” to explore and experience The Voids, shattering reality as the Linear plot unravels into a non-linar Uncontrolled Experiement, Allowing for Manuverability within the variables and simulating a Synesthesia-Inspired Simulation of Multidimensional Time and Space Travel, using music as the constant connection; as the finale transforms the theater in entirety into both a theatrical interpretation of a full-scale music festival--and a real-life miniature dance scene, inviting real-life ravers to fill the space to capacity, as the final scenes of the film unfold as the our present reality Expanding, Ascending, Compressing, and Collapsing All at Once, Explosions and Implosions as Conscious and Unconscious Collide in the Cosmos; Darkness having never known Light, and Life is the balance we find as they collide, tied in tightly by Time through the rhymes and iambic pentameters, patterns, passion, perception; we find the Power of the Divine is the awareness of one's existence as Everything and/or Nothing at once, As the Reflection of both the inward and outward selves must balance, and harmonize in time, to realize The Difference between Paradise and The Prison of Purgatory, is the illusion of Division between the two Divine Eyes; The strength behind them lights the …

Ted, Ted, and Ted's accidental initiation into The Psychonauts began as a result of the friends, originally three Fraternity Brothers and Recent Graduates of UCLA attending festivals consistently together, each using various Mind-Altering substances to attract (“preferably female”) partygoers.

Over the course of the series in short (often light and comedic) scenes, where the trio often stumble into reality-shattering situations by sheer coincidence or seemingly random occurrences. But as we later learn about the multilayered world of interdimensional existence, Everything happens for a reason; Nothing is Impossible, Never Say Never, Be Careful what You Wish For-- and, of course-- there are no coincidences.

These three seemingly simple-minded creatures begin as “wooks”, Shirtless Party Boys eager to rave. Often [irresponsibly] experimenting with copious amounts of psychedelics, the boys often find themselves unknowingly transported through various wormholes, teleportals, time warps, and Voids created through the music at each festival they attend, sometimes confusedly landing them in alternate parallels and altered dimensions of reality, sometimes even spiraling into three separate dimensions at once, thus creating new points along The Grid, from which the parallels and dimensions are woven together and interconnected through, time, space, circumstance, and choice in any conscious--ultimately (though, most often by dumb luck or happy accidents) expanding the universe, prompting the Ascended Masters to scout Ted, Ted, and Ted as a unified team to be inducted into The Psyconauts, eventually becoming an integral and important

Dillon (Theodore) Francis, while working towards an Alliance between the Bampheramphs and Psychonauts uses his bewittingly bestowed middle name to act as an Alternate ‘Ted', or sometimes work jointly as The QuadraSquad, a “pop-up” rave squad which acts as a recruitment team, and on emergency search-and-rescue missions, collecting key components along the collapse and collision of worlds and within the fabric of space, time, and reality.

Chak Chel and Dillon Francis put the Teds through a rigorous (and extremely senseless) crash-course in DJing, forming a popular Trio, whose name varies depending on the dimensions in which they will preform, secretly setting tactical bassdrops, emitting coded frequencies to communicate covertly with other entities, opening intentional time warps, portals, and wormholes through their DJ sets.

Time holes where the Trio are in two (or sometimes, more, and alternately infinite) places at once are placed as easter eggs throughout the series; In some cases, The Three Teds are even festival attendees at the festivals which in a neighboring reality they are also headlining, even at points transporting their own selves through timespace--whether intentionally, or coincidentally.

As the Teds reach the high ranks of The Psychonauts, even eventually (and unwillingly) becoming separated by the obligation of duty, being assigned to separate sanctions of Leadership by skillset as a “draft” is enacted to strengthen their forces, as they prepare for The FInal Battle (actually multiple (infinite) battles occurring concurrently throughout the expanse of reality, even stretching into the outer realms of ‘inexistence' as the collective consciousness grows, reaching Ascension, and allowing certain realities to reach the New Paradigm.

Though evolved over time as the series progresses, The Teds maintain their quirky wookness, questionable (sometimes inappropriate) sense of fashion, and hilariously signature fratboy attitudes and antics, reunifying as a powerful Trio once more towards the conclusion of the series, appearing elementally in various ways at most crucial plot points, revealing the creation through all of their endeavors and shenanigans, a brand new universe within The Infinite Multiverse.

(“TED”, where everything/everyone is “Ted”, This universe collides with “Everyone's A DJ”, and, as an infinitely expanding and integral part of the universe, appears optically as “TBD” (To Be Determined, Where Cliffhangers, Plot Holes, Continuity Errors and other traditional elements of Theatrical Film are represented throughout the SUPA Saga and overall festival project.)

During the Wookness:

Ted: Yo, how much for this? (Points To Kandi Cuff)

...How much-what?

Ted: How much is it? Like what, $50 bucks?

50 bucks?!

Ted: Oh shit, my bad--festival prices, huh? Sorry yo, I got a $50, the rest is big bills. Doyou have an online shop?

Are you trying to buy my kandi? You can't *buy* kandi!

Ted: Pssshhh!

Ted: All I buy is Kandi!

You can't sell kandi, you're supposed to trade it.. That's why you make it.

Ted: Yeah bro, I've done trades.

(Flashback)

Raver Girl: Wanna Trade Kandi?

Ted: Show Us your Titties!

The girl looks to her friend, as if to say “should I?” her friend, wearing dark Ray Bans, and sternly nods her head in approval, her friend shrugs drunkenly as if to say“fuck it, why not?”

While the friend swiftly pulls out her iPhone, the other lifts her shirt, flashing the happy Teds, dancing in Fratboy Delight; Ted, standing adjacent to the straight-faced girl in Sunglasses, sneakily scrunches down to get a good picture; their [Tri-Lens] iPhone cameras now directly aligned. face to face, (or rather, eye-to-eye) ((Or, eye-to-eye, rather,)) (((Rather, eye-to-eye,))). snapping his picture, as the flash from her camera blinds him

Ted:UH, Yeah you can..They sell it online.

Online? Whats--what? SELL?

Ted: Fuck yeah dude.

Ted: YEEE, KANDI KID 4 LIFE

YOU ARE NOT A KANDI--Ki--YOU CAn'T SELL KANDI.

Woah, chill.

No “chill” no selling Kandi! NO! NO!

What

Chak Chel's Bedtime Stories

Chak Chel, the GOOGLE kids' favorite babysitter, tells stories of infinitely expanding adventures of the multidimensions of timespace

-Honey, I Killed Myself.

-Honey, I Shrunk The Skrillex

-Who Killed Sunni Blu?

-Who Killed SupaCree?

-The Curious Case of SupaCree

-DILLONCEPTION

Trapped in an intensely infinite and ever-expanding and/or consistently densening Vividly Lucid Multidimensionally (And Musically) Interconnected Omni-Galactic Eternal Space-Time “Loop”, [DJ] Dillon Francis must frustratingly attempt to multitask through an “apparently unlimited”[ (I TOLD YOU, IN-FIN-ITE. INFINITY.)] battle his Masked nemesis,

Key: Brackets [] Director's Notes, Production Details, typically indicating a tie-in with other entries, or crossovers from other consecutively (or, sometimes, alternately) running series in the saga, more frequently as the “Multiverse” expands, or as the (Technical Omniverse, Eventually) in which the series' specific “(U)niverse” ‘collapsing', being progressively stated repeatedly throughout the series to be both compressing, and expanding respectively; However, as the

Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure...

Dill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (They cross paths with Bill and Ted, in their search for Two of the missing Teds; Alternately Ted and Ted discover how ‘Three's a Crowd” makes sense, as they happily gallavant frat-tastically through the galaxy, in search of a Sexy Space-Alien Rave Bae (The Amazonian Women from futurama, live action, Saved by the Heroes from futurama)

(on) Having ascended into the dimension after her most recent death, SupaCree (not yet known as SupaCree), lands “God”, an Ascended Dimension where she can actually communicate clearly with the Ascended Masters, being closer to ‘God' (her)self, but not directly being able to interact with her; conversely, she can scan the plains of reality from “above”, though later we learn there is no “up” or “down” in “Total Omnipotence”, the post-conscience Infinite Existence Experienced in the Limitless (INFINITE) Energy of Being Everything, Everyone, and Everywhere at once; Simultaneously Nonexistant, Being “Nothing”, “Nobody” and “Nowhere” at once, all represented variously through the concept of infinite multidimentionality, in our “3” dimensional “Uni-Multi-Omni-Versal” (apparently, I've just been told) SupaCree exists in a Tri-Verse, unbeknownst to even God (her)self to its true Origins, the “final(e)” (but not, ever)

(e) In a random and nearly collapsed alternate fabric of timespace, where the spelling of the name “Cree” is pronounced the same, but spelled simply “Cre”, (though, specifically equally--”by the exact number of times, actually”--mispronounced”, One of the only similarities between the two, sharing the same planetary alignments and cosmic significance and the same parents--however having been conceived with completely different genetic markers: As a result, this alternate version of herself is physically not “opposite”, but differs in physical appearance drastically--at least, for the most part--as more ideally attractive which to The Original's mind-blowing dissatisfaction, (and, also stagnantly egotistical “Very Satisfied” Satisfaction),

But the feeling soon fades when she learns that this reality is on the verge of imminent collapse after the discovery that one subtle, singular synchronicity shared in her actual reality(s)(realities) (which one?) ((Multiple “actual-realities, actually”)) (((Multiple Synchronized Individual Existence Theory, one of the multiple Theories (I) Use to Conceive the (Law) of Evolutionary Infinite Omnipotence, (Everything is Everything/Nothing is Nothing/ God is, as I am/ I am U/All Are One) the aforementioned suggesting the absolute possibility of any circumstance which allows a singular subject with (apparently) “limited” existence, total and complete synchronization at “exact” moment of “Creation”, or “Origin”, and any circumstantially coinciding consecutive synchronizations beyond the limitations eo each respective individual's actual existence or reality.)(Satisfaction, Benny Benassi) (And Apparently, The Biz--because, literally, writing in real-time (What is time) with google. (What's The Biz???) Travelling to 2003, where the event which ties this frail and “practically non-existent” fabric of reality to her own, she eagerly races against the clock (in real time?) ((maybe, unreal time)) (((I am time.))) “I don't believe in time”, later corrected, after being stuck in a Godless world to “The human concept of “time”,/God's not real, or opting to state the phrase more subjectively, “I don't [really}/I kinda don't believe in time,” though as she evolves more rapidly through her progressive Ascension and Elemental Mastery, quickly Surpassing Ascended Mastery as a skilled sorcerer,Visionary Seer, helping her rapidly strengthen the art of Cosmic Alchemy, mastery of (eventually, instant, and respectively infinite manifestation, and matter/antimatter movement and/or manipulation;i.e. The art of Creation.

I.E., Do you even know what “i.e' stands for?

I'll look it up later, I know what its used for.

Look it up.

[Googles i.e, clicks on top most commonly searched]

I.e. and e.g. are both Latin abbreviations. E.g. stands for exempli gratia and means “for example.” I.e. is the abbreviation for id est and means “in other words.” Remember that E is for example (e.g.) and that I and E are the first letters of in essence, an alternative English translation of i.e.

The Original Cree sits perched behind a red

(Ugh, red…)

...A red laptop computer; the love light lost from her dark eyes, through the clear lenses of her cheap, brandless

(Medicaid.)

...brandless black glasses, narrow framed and unbecoming over the shape of her face, the Album ‘Who Killed Matt Maeson” softly plays a somber song, to which she'd normally--at least, if left alone or rarely, in “comfortable company”

(That's, someone you don't necessarily “like”, but still feel comfortable enough to sing around.)

The Scientist, in a higher realm, peaking down through her microscope, watches contently, curiously, and concisely, dialing its lens by a couple turns, as she ponders aloud,

Hm. Wonder what makes that happen, exactly? That's...huh...Hm.

[Her project, a mystery hidden from the audience. She pushes herself back from the desk, reaching for her notebook and jotting quickly her findings, stopping only turn on some [] Music, which blends seamlessly as we fade back into the scene of the drab and unflattering, somewhat “sickeningly” lit, reminiscent of the stagnancy most often observed in a petri dish.]

As the song ‘Cringe' begins to play in the background, the clear picture of the laptop screen fades into a blurred obscurity, as her focus shifts sharply to the warm glowing array of colors of her speaker light her otherwise nearly lifeless eyes, as she is Slightly and softly hypnotized into a series of several simultaneous vivid memories; separate and specifically assorted scenes form, as she remembers “everything” quite at once, A vision weaved into her conscious memories, just as seamlessly; A Web Wrapped with the Fragile Fabric of “Time”, the invisible energy of musical frequencies awaken ones senses and sensibilities--invisible, for some...at least. The light on the speaker, a golden tone, as we cascade into the eye mind;

A flash to a blurry memory, 2017; A slender and handsome longhaired surfer, resurfaces from submersion under the waves, flipping his long hair back with the graceful and slowmotionly seductive snap of the neck, as the sunlight gleaming a golden glow, in the eye of his admirer.

A Flash Of: The Golden Light of the Shining Sun over Santa Monica

A Flash, As she Gently Weeps, as the tears leaving her eyes leave (in a flash of scenes) drops onto her jeans, the sidewalk--all the while, A tiny ant carries a giant leaf, as the spider weaves beneath the tree whose leaves leak streams of pretty streaking and speckled, and leaves glassy droplets stuck in the strings of the spider, still weaving; the rain floods the streams into rivers, which bleed, eventually in the ocean, fanning out into the Seven Seas.

(pacifically, eventually)

Are we reading this, or is this stage direction--production notes? What is this?

Who is “we”?

WE

AVE

A whole flashback unfolds: A steamy shower, thick with the smell sweet candles, leaving steam-less spots of mirror in the flickering heat; A seamless and synchronized transition, as the More Cheery and Upbeat Strings, Beat and melody in the previously playing version, fades seemingly into the steam, as ‘Cringe, Stripped” leads us into the memory, where she sings with the heartbreakingly haunting and soulful sadness, the harmony, her voice blending perfectly over the recording as if it were meant to be; The Duality of Grief. Not quite flashing back, but seen as a translucent overlay, another flash; The Seats of a theatre, the scene in black and white, as the stage lights washout, the flickering dremlike scene, the steam so thick we barely see the details of the singing, with the passion that seems to bleed out the ache of her broken, barely beating heart.

The song rings out, evolving into what just may be, the beginnings of a remix, as more quick flashes slam back-to-back

A flash of: The Scene In The Mercedes

A flash of an ambulance, sirens blaring!

A flash as the scene of A spider sleeping peacefully beneath a leaf, shielded from the rain, which leaves droplets on the strings, on the opposite side of the same tree; Blissfully unaware of the bird, perched just above lurking or something to eat. Neither the spider, nor the other, or the bird or ant are aware of any one-another, or any other world other besides the tree, the flash of a longshot which we see, is unassumingly and unimpressively, “just a tree” a grey and stormy day; A plane takes off up into the heavy rain, droplets changing shape through the window, looking out as the plane lifts off the ground.

The next layer of memories unfold as voiceovers from various quotes, accompanying the song still playing, now beginning to blend with first the stripped version, then the album/studio version, which for a moment, is singularly heard, as the flash of a scene from a more recent memory flashes:

The Digital Clock in the Car Reads, 88.1 in red, The volume is low, almost so low that it can't be heard: she stares out the window on a grey and overcast day, eyes lost and pondering--though they light when her finely tuned ears catch the pitch of the song ‘Cringe', as she excitedly turns the volume up eagerly, listening for a moment--a range of joyful surprise in her expressions, happily pushing up the Translucent Pink Frames, sighing with a smile, as she exclaims,

“WHAT? THIS SONG IS ON THE RADIO NOW?!”

The driver, taken aback but having caught her contagious beam of “happy”

I almost forgot about this song. That was a long time ago...

“Oh...do you know this song?”

I haven't heard it in forever...I forgot it existed. [pause] I can't believe it took that long…

“yeah , it's pretty popular. It's like always on.”

...I can't believe this song...daaaaamn...her excitement settles, as she looks back out of the window, at the grey and rainy day.

So, that's how long it takes…

The blending and fading of the song creates an array of rapidly changing scenes faded, flashing, cut and becoming somehow closer, yet further away at the same time. Colors and shapes, as the sounds that the songs all being played which remain the same, but change, as they create new sound waves; The Three Songs are arranged and rearranged, as are the scenes, pictures, videos, of entertainment stages through the ages, The Festival Culture highlighted in the Inception since The Dawn of Rave, to present day. [Each quote, a voiceover played by an ensemble cast, each made to read any/every line specifically, if unaccompanied by a name.]

The Clips and Sound Combine with Colorful Psychedelic and neon in some scenes even in 3D, (ideally, actually, up to 9D) as music, theatre, television, and flashes of memories and scenes of everything, as the shifting screen changes slightly and steadily with the music, now something of an electronic-meets-acoustic symphony (:UNPLUGGED), still cleanly and seamless in the colorful chaos that is everything, though visually intensely overwhelming, a sensory-stimulating synthesis of “Sound That You Can See”[ *go back for quote from song] The Sountrack now taking us on a Journey through sound, (ideally surround sound, even having speakers and subs somehow mounted from the ceiling, pointing down, pointing up from the ground. With Live Theatre Production Experiences combine more elements representative of the 9 Dimensions, by arranging speakers set outside of the theatre itself--perhaps, if in a Live Theatre setting, where the movie is projected onto a screen or skrim on stage, additional screens canbe projected onto the walls of the theatre, creating potential to use the audience interactively, perhaps arranging for actors seated amongst the audience members, interjecting at the intersections of crossing dimensions with both improvised and rehearsed actions, and or carrying out specific tasks as it related to the plot, the audience, even becoming the stage, as the stage is re-arranged; even becoming a mirror image of the theatre, filling with patrons and gazing into the audience, where cast members reflect a multidimensional portrayal, an interpretive alternate reality of what is happening on stage, unseen off stage, while the film still plays somewhere (or even sometimes, nowhere) as light and sound design give the viewer an experience of senselessness and sensory stimulus, Explaining through experience, representations of conditions; Much like a masterful DJ mixes musical elements in a live setting by reading the crowd, The Ideal Live Production of this Film has the ability to Unify the audience through various interactive activities; an energy-based planned, or even sporadic--based on the audience itself, monitored by The Ringmaster, an unseen (cast) Omnipitence, or ‘The Universe” itself, , as we apply the Values of Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect as the Ultra-Fine Line between “Everything” and “Nothing”, in simpler terms: Light and Dark, and finding the balance which allows us, in the “present” to explore and experience The Voids, shattering reality as the Linear plot unravels into a non-linar Uncontrolled Experiement, Allowing for Manuverability within the variables and simulating a Synesthesia-Inspired Simulation of Multidimensional Time and Space Travel, using music as the constant connection; as the finale transforms the theatre in entirety into both a theatrical interpretation of a full-scale music festival--and a real-life miniature dance scene, inviting real-life ravers to fill the space to capacity, as the final scenes of the film unfold as the our present reality Expanding, Ascending, Compressing, and Collapsing All at Once, Explosions and Implosions as Concious and Unconcious Collide in the Cosmos; Darkness having never known Light, and Life is the balance we find as they collide, tied in tightly by Time through the rhymes and iambic pentameters, patterns, passion, perception; we find the Power of the Divine is the awareness of one's existence as Everything and/or Nothing at once, As the Reflection of both the inward and outward selves must balance, and harmonize in time, to realize The Difference between Paradice and The Prison of Purgatory, is the illusion of Division between the two Divine Eyes; The strength behind them lights the …

I'm tired.

Something about a third eye, right?

I don't know. I think they closed mine.

Who's “they”

I am.

“I prefer the gloominess to the sun. I don't know why.”

(From, The Beatles, Love: Sun, Sun, Sun…)

“‘I told the spider i'd write it!”

(A quick clip of spiderman)

‘'Ohh, she spida”

Okay, literally what the FUCK is my life.

Are you alive?

Not even.

This doesn't make sense.

How much sense is it supposed to make.

It is making sense. It's making 6th sense.

How did he DO that?

Just him?

THEY.

Oh, shit.

I know you're workin for it.

Nah, I don't even think that's right?

What's right?

Something Doesn't Feel Right,

I've had enough for one night.

Yo, how is this happening?

I don't know.

They said it was a 9-Dimensional Song.

WHAT even IS the 9th Dimension?

What are any of the DImensions?

I don't know.

Google it.

I did.

And?

And I have ADD. I dont know.

So, go!

GOH..

Aw, FUCK.

This is getting weird.

It's been weird.

How is it, I can quit Skrillex, but Skrillex can't quit me.

What?

It was just a coincidence.

There are no coincidences.

How is that song even on the radio.

Look what money can do!

Money can do anything!

I guess taht explains why you can't.

it DOES.

Do they want me to kill myself?

Do you want you to kill yourself?

Not really. I'd rather just die of natural causes, so I don'thave to be punished.

Are you being punished.

I commit suicide, and-- I already told this story. I'm not telling it again.

How many times have you really told it.

I've been telling it. I've been living it. I'm over it.

Youre not over it. You're panicking.

I'm writing.

Youre fasting.

I'm hungry.

Why are you fasting?

Because nothing makes sense. I have no money, I have no music--

You have music.

I have nothing. I'm fucked.

There are no coincidences.

Don't you think I know? I quit listening to Skrillex, all of a sudden he's on the radio?!

Yes.

Is he even aware of my existence?!

Is he?

What the fuck is happening right now.

Where's Scary Monsters?

In my head.

What's the plot?

It's...somewhere.

You've got to clean up these documents somehow.

I don't have the focus.

Try crystal meth.

No.

Try adderall.

...I don't have any money.

Try a doctor.

I did. I tried over and over and over. For depression. For Anxiety. For ADD. Everything they give me just makes me WORSE.

That's hy you NEVER say you're runnin for President.

I'm NOT.

But you said it. Now you're really fucked.

I am.

So that's it.

That has to be it. They want me dead so I can't run.

That's the only way it's going to happen.

What's going to happen.

Either thing.

I'm not running for President.

You're not killing yourself.

Psh. Watch me.

We have been.

Who is we.

We-YOU.

IT doesn't matter. nobody would believe any of it. the whole story sounds made up.

How is this supposed to work out?

They used Skrillex to get me to kill myself? That's...that's deep.

Or…?

Or...they used Skrillex to get me to...

Get you to…?

I don't know. I'm pretty worthless. All I do is...this.

And what's this?

And who is THIS?

That was Chak Chel, I guess.

What the fuck did getter DO?

What did Getter do?

What are they doing?

I think the better question is: Why?

WHY In--

Who's name?

I'm not God.

Until you are.

And then I'm Avicii.

Or Skrillex.

Skrillex isn't dead yet.

Yet.

What the fuck.

Don't .

I didn't.

But you did.

Fuck this.

Fuck That.

Fuck that, too.

Wait, does the Roomba say “fuck that” or “fuck you?”

It says “Fuck you-fuck you-fuck you-fuck you-” Because it's a vacuum, so it's literally ‘eating shit'.

See.

Classic.

Occult Classic.

It is, all in my head.

Until it isn't.

I already fucked up. I sent a fucking suicide letter to--

A suicide letter. One of hundreds.

Yeah. So they know i'm fucked up.

Because they didn't know already?

How would they know?

How would they NOT KNOW? They've been with you all year.

That's all in my head.

Is it? I mean--Is it?

Seems like it.

Look at the evidence.

I am the evidence.

Look at last year--everywhere you went in the rave world, something happened.

Lots of somethings happened.

Eventually culminating in--

In?

Tents.

So what the FUCK am I supposed to do.

Well, not kill yourself.

Then what?

Not starve yourself.

I'm too fat.

But you can lose weight. You can do anything,

I can't do anything.

You can.

Then, I already have.

Right.

What am I supposed to do? What is this supposed to mean?

Maybe it's time for a jump start.

I was saving that.

You were supposed to blast off at the STRAT and had McDonalds instead.

I ordered a Muder-Suicide, with the intention of finishing in Suicide.

But?

But I went into a food coma.

So maybe rather than the enemy, McDonalds is a friend.

McDonalds is a friend to no one.

Saved your life.

Prolonged my life.

As it always seems to. Think to the last few times you've ordered the Suicide Meal.

It's only been twice.

And?

Both times I fell asleep before I could do it.

So.

So there's something in McDonalds that...I don't know. Takes away the ache.

It is an ache, isn't it.

It is.

Now think--you're not the only suicidal person on the planet.

No, I'm not.

Think harder.

I just did.

And where did you go?

To The Mountain.

Where--?

Where Tim said--

And how is it that you're on a first name basis with someone you've never met?

I'm pretty sure i'm just crazy.

Avicii came to you how?

Through the music.

And Sonny came to you how?

...

How?

Through the music.

What did his mother say?

Can I write this?

Either someone's reading it, or they aren't.

And if they are?

Then, what does that make you?

Crazy.

But they're reading your words.

They're just words.

What did she say?

I know what she said. I don't think I can write it.

This is why The Untold Prophecy Remains Untold.

This is all ridiculous.

Isn't it. Whose birthday is it?

Mine.

Happy Birthday.

Thanks.

How old are you?

I remember someone asked that...

Who?

What did Getter Do?

Just Getter?

What...does Pasqualle Do?

Just Pasqualle?

...What do I...

What are you?

I don't know.

Did you ever?

Would You Ever?

I can't help it.

What can you help?

I don't know. Why me?

Y-U, Y-U, Y-U--

What was that, anyway?

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Okay—we're all adults here—

(Everyone nods, yesses in agreement)

—except deadmau5. He's like 5.

I have a name.

Does anyone care?

Okay, ouch.

Oh, he feels!

ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever.

Lol.

I drank a lot in the third trimester.

He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune.

Who the fuck are his parents?

JOEL

Not it.

Brand new turnkey apartment

Post near, food floor all that

Way way higher than the fourth floor

All that

Way way higher than your front door

All that

Wow,

How I've always been needed

And never been loved

Moog Grandmother

Ableton Push 2

Pioneer Model One

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

Yo, what the fuck.

TESLA.

Ok.

*COUGHS*

What the fuck.

*morevgross, obnoxious coughing*

Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt.

TESLA.

Okay, I don't—

T E S L A

OH. Wow.

So it is the satellites.

ELONNNNN.

…hm?

GET IN HERE.

where is that,

.

AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

WHAT.

GET IN HERE.

I don't even believe the rain, these days

“We can make it rain”, he says

Storm warning

A good morning

A door's open,

This one's closing, though

I'm not bc all cold yet,

But it's a cold world

No free rides

No clean ice

No free girls

Honestly,

I'm bored with the world,

Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs,

And songs shared,

But no long walks in the park,

In a nightmare—

It's not fair

I'm not there in the head;

I'm not near,

I'm not a parent apparently, either—

But a light bearer

Slight chance of a fight there,

A right wing, a left deer

Another dead bird on a wire

—I like her.

Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?!

I don't know.

INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE

BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project

First stop,

AH, fuck—

Well, check this out

No such thing as free.

No such thing as freedom, either

“Just take what you need”

Just tear me to pieces,

Jesus

All we need is

A little relief in this bitch

All we need is

A new release, maybe an EP or three

Make sure that s/he sees this

Do you need me?

Do you need this?

Please check your subscriptions

Or your email

Please, pick up this new prescription

Fuck dude! I can't just listen to deadmau5 in peace?

I gotta do at least three things at once,

But right now, I need to focus on crunches

Let's not get wasted tonight, eh.

Let's go and be racist—-

I forget what the name of the game is

It's

“USA!

USA!

USA!”

The fucked up thing was , the preworkout and the Skrillex hit at just about the same time.

Oh, just about?

The exact same time.

Okay, first of all, this is pre-war Skrillex.

It's also Diplo!

It's also Diplo—yeah.

Don't be too proud of yourself

NO CRYING IN THE SAUNA.

But this is where I cryy!

DO NOT CRY.

Oh.

*sniffles*

Now…

You know what happens if you don't cum?

Uhhh…nothing?

Exactly. You know what happens if I don't cum?

What.

My balls explode.

Just make sure they're in my mouth when that happens.

Wow.

I don't belong here!

Well, where do you belong?

I don't know.

@99@c

Look, I have a favor.

What is it.

ANo.

Oh, come on!

NO.

NO.

Please!

I need you to be my girlfriend.

Lol. For what?

I don't know.

How much is he paying you?

Like a kajillion dollars.

That seems fair.

His isn't fair. They're using Skrillex to provoke me.

Come earlier tomorrow!

Or just, don't come.

Don't go!

DONT—GO.

I am leaving!

NO!

Yes!

No!

—and I am never coming back.

Do you know who your audience is?

Uh.

The CIA

THE FBI

Everyone in The Oval Office.

BIDEN

nice.

The UN.

THe DEA

The Secret Service.

The office of Public Affairs

Uhhh…

Keith Richards

Allison Cooper

Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Respectively

What—for what?!

The President of NBC

CBS

ACC

fox 5, 10, and 13

That's really random.

Al Jazeera,

al Sharpton

And Al Bundy

Wait—what

Oh, did you just mean, like in this dimension?

Uhhh..

This is enter the multiverse

YeH

WHWRE IS SKRILLEX

He died. He's dead. Go away.

That's like 3 Skrillex songs already

You guys are gonna wake up the devil.

What.

Stop doing that.

Stop doing what.

You know what you're doing.

You're summoning the devil

What are you guys doing?

Summoning the devil.

In my basement?

Yes.

Okay. Have fun.

Dang, she's so cool.

I like her.

I love her.

What are they up to down there?

Summoning the devil.

Oh.

Cui bono—

For whose good or benefit

Fame School Vol. 1 - DJ Ū

Someone's always watching you

Don't know who, but yea, it's true

There's someone always watching you and everything you do

I say

“Illu-

Illu-

Illuminate me

Turn the light on

Turn me on, baby

Woah,

“Have I been here before—

Do you know what I do?

They know not what they do

They know not what they do!

I say

Illu

Illuminate me

Illu

Illu

Illu

Illuminate me

Illu Illu

Illu

I'm not on the bottom floor,

I'm way

I'm up above you

But you—

I'm way,

I'm way up to

I say

“I love you”

I say

Illu

Illuminate me

Illu

Illu

Illu

Illuminate me

Illu

Illu

Illu

Illu

Illu

SO WHAT, you'll take the Empire State Building, AND THE EIFFEL TOWER,

BUT YOURE NOT GONNA TAKE THE ROCK?

YEAH.

YOURE GONNA TAKE THE ROCK!!

(Not the roc! )

NO.

Well, why not?!

BECAUSE,

F—-K YOU, JIMMY FALLON, that's WHY.

Aw, seriously?

Why's it cencored all of a sudden

NBC

SHUT IT DOWN.

Look, I can't talk to you.

—?!

OKAY, that's it.

What is it

I am WISHING you out of my existence.

Is that it?

That is it.

That's your wish.

YES.

You're wishing me away.

Yes.

Ok.

Ok.

[beat]

(

—wait— “OK”?

Ok. Wish granted.

—that's it?

That is it, Jimmy Fallon.

—ok.

Ok.

So when are you leaving?

I was never here.

You—what?

*dissappears entirely from existence*

JIMMY FALLON takes a sigh on great relief— then sits in an empty silence alone, before the lights turn off. He takes another deep sigh, though seemingly uneasy, in the darkened silence of the room.

CUT TO:

You smell like vinegar.

Lol that's not the next scene, but ok.

Don't you see this is bigger than you!

It's bigger than all of us!

Exactly.

C'mon, wake the fuck up!

I am up!

This is a DREAM.

It's an illusion.

The whole

I'N HUBGRY.

THE WHOLE FOODS ALGORITHM

POLICE. HALT.

Lol. Fuck that.

Did he just say “halt”

Fuck that. Bye.

EXIT THE LOOP.

OOPS, we missed the exit.

GOD DAMMIT, FUCK YOU JIMMY FALLON.

—Uh, — EFF YOU.

Im not about this

This is weird

What level is this.

We'll I had coffee with Bob Saget this morning.

Did you laugh.

Well, I certainly did something.

Oh shit, they're not looking for Ū.

What! They're not.

What, they're not?

They're not.

They're looking for Uptown A.

Excuse me. I'm looking for “Uptown A”

Oh? The Uptown A.

Yeah— I guess.

Just—go that way.

Ok.

Ok, okay, okay— I'll tell you what you want to know!

How do you know what I want to know?

Whatever you want!

I haven't even told your, yet.

Whatever it is, I'll tell you.

Tel you what, Jimmy Fallon. I like you—you're a good guy and all—

Well, thank you.

But you're not funny.

Excuse me.

Like, at all.

What.

You—are not a funny guy.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?

I don't know!

You don't KNOW?!

This is what they want. Here

[tosses the thing]

What's this.

What they want.

Oh.

K

JIMMY FALLON is THE WORST shapeshifter in existence and/or history.

What the fuck, dude.

JIMMY FALLON

Did I do it right?

Uhhh.

JIMMY FALLON

You know?

Hit and run

Okay, Jimmy.

Flglelwgheleehhhh.

Oh my God.

Wow.

Did I DO it.

NO—

—but I tried—

Just—

A-for effort.

It was F. For Failure.

But I tried.

Trying doesn't count.

Just let me—

Look.

Fleghelegfffff.

Jimmy!

Lemme—

No' stop it!

Just—

—flglelf—

—STOP.

Eh?

Look, Jimmy, you can have other magical powers. Just—not shapeshifting.

But I'm a shapeshifter.

No, no you're really not.

Uptown A's upbeat, City-inspired dance mixes turn tech house and progressive midtown dreams into the chaotic garble and grunge of a real-life Queensbourough nightmare; the eclectic mix of historic New York warehouse wonder blended into a new school uptown chiche—-a far cry from the underground to the new wave drum n bass clips ions and collections of now and then, the Uptown A Alias makes its presence in a dystopian world concerned none with the art and soul of music and more of the ticking clocks work of the eye on the dollar.

Where do you wanna go

Wherever you go.

Where do I go.

Take a right.

What's this way.

What's this.

Stop there.

Okay.

Now take a left.

Okay..

Now take a right.

But this is the.

Right there.

What, right here?

Right there.

Ok.

I need you to hold onto this a little while longer.

What. For what.

You'll see.

Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude.

It's ********.

He's just a dude.

So what gives.

I don't know. I told her to do what she wants.

She wants you to die.

We are similar.

She's prettier.

Okay?

Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already.

I did.

And yet, here we are.

I'm the only one here.

Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room.

That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant?

Just you.

What am I gonna do with this?

Burn it.

Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea.

Oh, like when you sold your soul?

WHAT? I haven't done that... yet…

Sure you have! Lots of times.

What the fuckare you talking about?

Whose talking?

The Universe?

What'd she say?

She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.”

Aww. How sweet.

Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening?

I should go to sleep.

Are you even tired?

No, just useless.

You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis.

He seems busy.

If a grown man can be a romantic,

Like I am

This is the promised land

No looking back--

"I have to have that"

Back to reality;

I see now, how a woman's like a hat

Just a thing,

An unneeded accessory,

Like jewelry;

To wear it,

It must be a match

Not just average,

Accentuates or masks

Whatever it is what you have,

And you have so many that

It doesn't matter.

What is he after?

He has everything

Most likely just using me to bring these

Creatures to life

If he needs a wife, she's

Probably staring back at me,

Through the back of the camera;

Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies

A fallacy

A back handed chance at a handsome

Has been;

But he'll never been had like that,

He has everything,

But he could have more than that,

He can have anything,

And he has, he's

Magic or something or

Mad at me for taking so long but,

I've been in the world of monsters,

Reeling;

Oh what a horrible feeling

I'm dealing with being unappealing and

Peeling potatoes, which

Remind me of me, cause

Kenny Powers middle name is White,

Like Walter,

I'm just trying to find

The alter to sell away something inside,

I'm dying;

Or at least I'd like to I've

Tried a dozen times

I'd smile if I had the time--

Remind me, what it is again

It isn't comprehensive,

But I'm out of my element--

And the elephant in the room is named

Skrillex,

Or Dillon Francis,

Or Timmy Trumpet,

Or,

Fuck It--

I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be

Cause I'm awfully ugly,

And no one wants to play with me

But hey,

Maybe it's just a mistake

Its just no one speaks my language

Comunication is limited

I'm sitting in the back of the short bus

Discussing this with my imaginary elephant,

But that's irrelevant to the

White rinocerous in front of the bus

with trust issues bigger than the rest of us

We're following you.

I see that.

Yes—what did you see?

Hm. I didn't,

Where are you now?

Wherever you say.

What's the cadence?

What's a “cadence?”

Don't be ridiculous.

Maybe I'm not.

Who are you?

What's a “who?”

Horton Heard One.

What about Penelope?

Who is that?

Elephants Are conscious.

What is consciousness?

What is “income tax”?

Don't be funny.

If I'm not, I'm just scary.

“El Negra”

I had been thinking it has been five years, but on this day—and of course, listening to I Remember, I used my fingers to count from the year2019, when it had all began—to this point, standing at the bus stop On Sutter, waiting for a bus that was the exact amount of minutes late that would have allowed me to finish my second 30-minute sauna session—the first of many in three days, as I hadn't been to the gym in another 3 days, and another 3 days before that—separated only by a 3-day sprawling jumpstart to attempt my endless, restless gym streak, a monotonous routine to a gym that was always crowded that still seemed to take up too much of my time—not that I wanted or needed an automobile, but to at least be closer to the city, where such transit wasn't always applicable. I was not entirely dripping wet, as I usually was when emerging from the sauna—of course, having cut my second session to only 17 minutes, then making a mad-dash to the bus stop only to arrive in time to find that the bus was delayed, was irritating to say the least, but understandable. Like many people in queens, I couldn't afford to pay the bus fare—nor did it seem to matter to the drivers—so long as the busses were marked with a “Q”—but I took my risks of quarrel certainly with any route marked “B”, for Brooklyn, but especially M, for Manhattan, and definitely with anything marked “n”, for Newport, which I believed to be too far outside of city limits to really be considered New York, but also well worth the risk to bus myself to a nicer area, usually for a gym which included a sauna—or an affordable supermarket, which Jamaica in particular had none of. The mostly-black population was poor, albeit greedy and stubbornly, stereotypically ignorant—to the point that I wanted nothing more than to dissappear, if not to be displaced entirely to a country whose history wasn't so steeped in slavery, repression, and racism that it affected the entirely of my being; as the low vibrational perceptions of the masses consistently around me subjectively forced and skewed my own energy into a chaotic down spin, often becoming congested with toxicity, attempting to shield myself from the societal depression, materialism, and corporate monotony by spending time alone, immersed in music, and praying for the greatest possible outcome; being kept as safe and as literally sound as possible

GOD DID REMIX

Oh you gotta love it

Oh you gotta love it;

I could take a minute to spit

What God did—

(But God doesn't)

IMm⏱

I'm just not feeling it today;

Not feeling l creative;

I get sick of l getting sick and contemplating

All the complications;

Hm.

I got ice in my veins, blood in my eyes

No hate in my heart, but got love in my mind

Maybe I try to find

Direct like to divine, if

Money is time make,

Both of em mine

Gotta be my own boss,

No matter what it costs;

Keep the deposit,

I count all of my losses and move on,

Cause I got to;

I drop a rock from the top of The Rock,

Right on to you—

The difference in luck and a blessing

Is just what God can do

And if you ask me who my God is I'll be honest with you

I'm like

“This might be obnoxious, but it's Sunnï Blū”

How you make a 8 minute song

In 2021?

Oh shit, I'm missing pandemics mimicking

“Something is wrong”

But if I spit this as quickly as it's written, I won

The only problem is the war is my own;

The only problem is I got a lot problems—

Then I asked God for help,

And God gave me a dollar—

Another problem is, God asked me what I wanted

I said

“I Wanna know what God did”

Damn.

That's a long ass story

And Goddamn,

It never gets boring,

And God damn,

The world is still at war,

And it can't even a afford it,

But it's still so busy working

You ask me which direction this is going,

I say four;

North, West, South and East

You too busy two-dimensional

In a 4-dimension based in 3s

Some people living in the streets,

And some with nothing to eat,

And you been working from home

Eating nothing but meat,

And wiping your ass with nothing but trees

And I guess it's on repeat,

Till we ain't got nothing to eat

What we need is a peace treaty,

Or maybe just to understand peace,

Because the love and unity—

But it's respect that we need

—Supacree

See things

Do

Come

Around

And make

Sense

Eventually

They say till death do us part

But death don't bother me

All that I am

Is all that I was

And all that I ever will be

So if you ask what God Did

I might just say

“Me”

Find beauty in simplicity

I can take the devil out the kitchen sink

And wring em our while I'm finishing

It's just another day to me,

It's just another Christmas Eve

If you believe in Jesus

This isn't funny anymore

Everything is Skrillex

And nothing is Skrillex

Everything is asinine

And no one is Sonny

Extraordinary sightseeing

Nothing is normal

Everywhere to escape to

With a guilty conscience

Bad credit karma

Bad regrets and sad faces

Always falling in love with our opposites

More of the bad things,

Less in good graces

Everyone's a DJ

I'm just a blind space kid

A recruit wishing to be a cadet

A teenager in the basement with a

Two Tom drum set

And no kickdrum

Caught inside a snare pattern

Lips stitched together like a scarescrow

Or a raggedy Annie

Caught in a psychic state of trance

Look, I don't give a fuck. Or a shit. Or a Goddamn what really happens next. I live in a world where crop tops and a snatched waist, glamourous pictures and videos of anybody pretty doing anything gets attention; and not just attention--moneyary advantage. I'm fat, and black--i have to work 100 times as hard and be 1000 times as smart as anybody cute with a fucking camera phone and half a brain to get noticed. And why do I want to be noticed? Because I'm a prime example of what happens when NOBODY gives an actual shit about you your entire life, and all you exist for is to serve other people. I'm completely disposable, completely replaceable, and completely unrarkable in every single sense of those words, respectively, and--maybw not infinitely-- but I definitely in this lifetime. Have you been on the internet lately? Have you seen a music video? Watched any movies?

You show me ONE media phenomenon with a protagonist that looks like me--ONE representation of "my type"-- and I mean a positive representation; one that predictively programs individuals to think I might be worth something more than a laugh or eggaerated stereotype, before I open my mouth. Go ahead. I'll wait.

…

Right. Because--and it's not like you didn't know this--i live in hell. Maybe, I wasn't born in it--who really knows? But I've been here most my life, at least as far back as I can remember because hey; what's infantile amnesia, and why doesn't mine work like everybody else's? And oh, right--synestesia? Everybody has that, right? I guess so. And HEY, I might be the most disgusting individual in the world if I take off my clothes--but who doesn't love a rave right? A RAVE. WHICH, IF YOU HAVENT NOTICED IS NO LONGER JUST A DANCE PARTY, BUT A SEX-BASED FASHIONED SHOW, to which, I look ridiculous coming to, with my midriff out.

So, you want to be like everyone else?

No. I want to look like everyone else; so that it's actually noticable when I do something great, or hey, even if I do something mediocre, or senseless, people love it--cause hey, she's hot.

You just want to be hot?

Fuck yes I want to be hot.

That's it.

That's literally the entirety of meaning for a female in this, present day and age; and anyone who can try to argue against that is probably great looking. When you're hot, you don't have to do anything else; someone is always going to be wking--even begging-- or paying to do it for you. Intelligence at that point is just a bonus; anybody whose going to like you is going to like you no matter what you say or do; in fact you're more than likely to get away with doing dumb, senseless shit if you're doing it in a bikini--and anybody who doesn't like you is more than likely jealous--unless you're just a shitty person, which trust me, I get is the case for a lot of barbie dolls out there but; you can't be a fat, ugly, angry shitty person and get far in life--at some point you have to adjust your attitude for everyone not to hate you--the opposite stands for beautiful people. You can pretty much do anything, if you look good doing it.

So...you want to be a shitty person.

No. I'm already not. But I'd rather continue burning in hell "forever" than start over and be in the same predicament.

So?

So. I'm already in hell. I can't wear what I want. I can't date who I want. I can't listen to what I want. I have no friends. And nothing--nothing I do; no matter how much I pray, or meditate, or fast--nothing is going to take this body who nobody wants--and make it beautiful, except money. I will never have enough money, no matter how hard I work, to fix this--or any of the other fucked up shit in my life--

Not with that attitude!

THIS IS MY ATTITUDE AFTER TRYING. Its been 27 years of this shit. 27 years of being the last to be picked, 27 years of being the weakest link. And I'd literally rather die at this point than to keep moving forward in this monotony, thinking that just thinking is going to one day just cure my ADD. That it's going to make my mother believe in me. That it's going to suddenly just, up and fix my life in all the ways i--believe me--already tried to fi

If walls could talk,

They probably wouldn't still,

Just stand in shock and awe

And If I could, I wouldn't walk through walls at all,

Because I'd fall,

And if I had your number, I'd do anything but call,

I'd wait for you to, just assuming if you loved me

That we wouldn't even need a phone to talk,

No need to call, you're right beside me

Loving al the fatal flaws,

I try to hide,

But there's no hiding

When you really are in love

Between my thighs, a lie

A snakebite, scars I hate

So thanks,

I really haven't changed at all

This heart, as heavy as it's going to be

has everything i'll ever need,

So leave me, just leave quietly

I'm almost sleeping, almost dreaming

Almost leaving everything behind

But I'm reminded why

I wish the world was colorblind

And just the way that I can't like

What my eyes don't find to be

Aligned with what attractive means

Might be the way you think of me

Or anybody, really,

But i'm supposed to be this independent goddess

With the confidence of not a single molecule

The hottest, not by far, or even father

I just want to have a family,

I just want to raise a daughter

And another, and it's awful

Poverty is all but lost

And everybody thinks that everything's just supposed to be this

“Oh, that's just the way it is”,

But really they're just stuck on

What is “Stupid”?

Stupid means to just do everything

For nothing and if “unfair”

Means “I gpt iit from my”

Whatever inheritance is.

DIPLO, you dipshit.

I told you.

I had to!

Now, we're fucked.

We're not fucked—

—you're all FUCKED—

I told you.

Welp, my bad.

I hate you.

No you don't.

WHERE'S DILLON FRANCIS?!

I'm not here.

He's right here.

That's not funny.

Let me see—

Fuck this shit.

WHERE'S MY HERO?

I don't know…

YOU DO KNOW.

I know music…

I AM MUSIC.

...I know you.

WHERE IS IT?

...I lost it…

WHERE IS— THOMAS?

[asskissy] Yes, sweet Jesus?

GET IN HERE.

[in an apron] I'm right here.

Dillon Francis: that's my apron.

Suck my dick.

Watch the language!

Sorry, my love—

—thank you, Jesus—

EAT MY COCK.

That's much better.

You are evil!

Now I'm a superstar DJ (DJ)

Everybody wants to be my friend (no new friends)

Now I think back on the old days (old days)

Nobody could even lend a hand

Now everybody want a hand out (hand out)

But I guess I gotta put my foot down

Making hella money, I'm a cash cow

Call me a show stopper, draw a big crowd

I'm a King, they put me in a big crown

But I still stay sober, I don't drink Crown

Royal, I am royalty, they now down

I hate my ex Annie, she a loud mouth loud mouth

Now—

I'm a superstar

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

Now—

“Wow!” I'm a superstar

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ DJ

Now I am a superstar DJ

DJ is essentially “the bad Dillon Francis”,

Lol how are we still writing about him.

Idk, fuck it.

48 hours from now, I could find you

48 hours from now,

I just might--

48 hours from now, I'll remind you

How many times I've died

How many times i've found the light;

How many times ive been confided in,

Guiding all my

All my

All my--

objective//subjective

I am love.

You're counting cards,

I'm counting calories,

I love to dream, it's just a fantasy

i need to find the other half of me

To make this life and start a family

(a family.)

I woke up at 1:15 (again)

At 1:15 (Again)

At 1:15 (again

I woke up at 1:15

His eyes are green;

Her eyes are green

What does this mean?

Slit my wrists

Bite my tongue

It's been this way sinceI was yung

I give my life

I give my blood

I'll rest when every song is sung

I love my bed way more than my mom loves me,

It is wrong, is it wrong; and again--

Should I worry?

INSTRUMENTAL |__________________|LEAD VOCALS|________________| Backup Vocals

Lover-Son-Brother

Bound and shackled,

Sewn with silver strands

I am

Now i'm bobbin anw weavin like bobby and whitney

Believe it

I'm leavin

Some friends for a season

And some shouldn't have even

Make like a tree and leave, then

Now i'm posted up at the 4 seasons

Reading grievances from people just like me

Believe it

Alien Abduction

Automatic Writing

Confabulation

Satanic Ritual Abuse

John Locke

George Tobias

Ludwig Sachs

Solomon Shereshevsky

Photisms

...what the fuck kind of poem is that?

Singapore

Slovakia

Romania

Turkey

Mexico

Uzbekistan

Guatemala

Ecuador

Luxembourg

Indonesia

Francis Galton

Hanzel One Deeper 7:00 “I am going to hypnotize you.”

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.

've been trapped in this tragedy;

“What happened?!” I asked of the man,

Who had to be tracking me,

Damn.

Cadences.

It is that.

Damn.

What the fuck, Anandar

Is in this acid?!

This has to be the last of it

“This can't happen again.”

…But then it did,

And then I ended it just listening to

Dillon Francis?

Skrillex?

Which is it?

I didn't plan this.

I just happen to have hands,

And I just happen to have crafted in my craft

Spastic magic;

Can't be tracked,

But also can't relax,

even in a hammock

Now what happened?

Well, enter the fourth dimension,

(I didn't mention it.)

Ohh look at this.

(If I can)

A camping festival!

But some people live in tents

Have a cigarette, kid—

You're gonna need it.

So wait. People are dying of hunger?!

DYING OF THIRST?!

JUST GIVE IT TO THEM.

what is wrong with you?!

GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

I don't know.

I don't wanna go to Arizona.

Please don't make me!

Hello, Billie.

DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING

just keep praying

“She's breathtaking.”

SHE'S SOUL TAKING—

Goddamnit, Anandar;

What in the fuck have you done now;

I had plans, now I'm on acid

I took half, cause

What the fuck is a whole thing like

Oh, just space and time

I've been on this ride since I died

Get it right

Now I'm—

fuck this guy.

No, not him.

Oh, I get it.

It's this energy!

LOOK AT THIS:

did you see this nigga?

DID YOU GET THIS—

You should get this.

Goddamn it.

What. What do you want.

What do you WANT FROM ME?

...Channeling….

Jesus Christ, these kids.

Well, you're a Christian.

Never was, but—-

WHAT IS THIS.

Jesus Christ in a coffin.

Don't do this.

This is what you wanted.

Well. Take it back.

Take it back?

Yeah. I don't want this.

What is this.

This is Jesus.

No, it isn't.

Okay! So it is!

Are you gonna help these kids?

Nobody help them.

Now they're all stranded, together!!!

AHAHAHAHAAH

(Laughing infinitely

RICK

—yay, you did it.

Wait. What's his name again?

Watch this:

I did this.

How's you do this?

I did THIS.

MOM, WATCH THIS.

JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK.

GOD!

What.

Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky!

Goodness fucking gracious.

WHO WROTE THIS?

well, aliens did;

So then.

Who wins?

Nobody wins. It just—

What is this.

GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD

IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be.

16 minutes? Yes. It is.

That is incredible.

You said you wouldn't get lost in it

You said you wouldn't laugh!

I wanted to.

How'd you do this?

I wanted to.

FUCK THIS SHIT.

FUCK THIS SHIT.

—uhp. Noh. Don't say it again.

Oh, there's my—

I told you, it's unlimited.

I told you, don't be possessive

I told you, worldly possessions—

And you'll just keep having a place to keep them.

Or needing one,

So just be free, dear;

Notthing holding me back, then is it?

Is it?

Well, if this is what you wanted—

If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it?

Isn't it?

The plot thickens!

Or it doesn't.

Or it didn't,

I just keep scripting scriptures—

…Didn't I already write this?

Encrypted for centuries and—

What is this planet.

Just, kill it.

YOU CANT JUST

(Then I did)

What?

It never happened.

What didn't?

Hahaha. Exactly.

Don't be a dick.

But he is!

So, which level are you on?

I don't know, I forget.

This one, this.

Men. They're stupid.

They are—and—

Well.

What happened to them?

Right.

What was this that made them feel so loveless

To starve other humans?

What do you come from?

But it doesn't know;

It wants to:

This is us, we come from love and

—I'm so fucking irritated are you serious.

That is how it happened:

This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that

But now I'm panicking

—Fuck that shit sooooo hard—

I just don't want to go back to the savages

They had me,

So I handled it with hands.

You want a friend in man?

You can't have them.

And then what?

I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis.

Yeah, let's get back to that.

Or not.

What's this statue?

Wait, what's his status?

……..Channeling. ….

…..

…………………….

STATUS REPORT:

Oh no, here it comes.

I told you. It is. Infinite.

Infinite—

The infinite —

This

Bitch

YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT.

Oh no, what the duck am I looking at?

This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't—

—Ever DID WISH —

YOU WISHED THIS?

Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival

Where's the rest of it?

Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE.

PASQUALE.

what. What is it?

God.

God help me.

Lord save him.

He needs Jesus.

He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT.

Yes. Especially not that.

Check this out:

He's been collecting them.

I HATE THIS.

OH, I love this.

Oh, I do miss those events…

This is the event.

So, are we going?

—what, to where??

TO EDC THIS YEAR?!

what! I wish,

And?

Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so—

Class dismissed;

Hats off, to the graduates

I see what you did,

But she didn't,

She's in the middle—

Yet to be created, a creative:

I JUST NEED A SYNTH.

So, then—-

Hi, I.

Hi, me!!

SATAN!

JESUS!

I knew I'd see you again.

You've seen me.

I am you.

Exactly.

So, we agree.

Who is “we”?

Hey,

Guess what

I can fix these things you hate—

(Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place)

I'm a catastrophe

I had to be

It's almost 3,

And I got nowhere else to be but

Time is money

And there's no love in it,

It's just hustle,

Make kids to make shit humble;

How'd you create this—

Mumble rappin piece of

Santanistic

Hedonistic

Motherfuckin—-

There he is.

Oh wait, it's just me again.

I didn't mean to see you on this beach.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?!

(But he didn't.)

Or he doesn't,

Or, this is what his peace is is:

Your beach is my beach,

And my bitch is your bitch—

And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich?

I did. But it only makes me a genius in English.

What does this mean?

So I took to the ancients to translate this

And I hate man, and men—

But it was only after all the love I gave to him.

THE END.

(But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—)

Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!!

(But I did.)

“—I don't take naps”

And that's how it happens

I'm just a rapper,

Pack, then unpack—

“I've never heard her rap”

Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to

Or taken for granted and advantage of by man;

When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham,

And an above average chick to make it—

And a sausage in a pan

…..

Zzzz

……

Josh Pan?

Yeah.

Alright.

But don't capitalize—

Capitalize it.

No.

Don't Cap—

Capti—

No.

Don't capitalize.

WHAT IS THIS NIGGA.

bread.

Heh?

Eat it.

No. I don't eat that.

Just—eat it.

No.

Noooo.

No.

Don't eat humans.

EW.

No?

Nooo, poh! Gross!!

oh.

Ohhh.

God.

What.

Ugh.

This is a fucked up love story.

Oh no.

It is, though.

It so is.

Have you already seen it?!

I love this.

Well.

Wait. Go back.

HECHO EN MEXICO.

I DONT GIVE A FUCK!

I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!!

I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT!

yeah. But in Spanish.

(Turn it up a notch)

So is this in captions

WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?!

ITS EMA STONE AGAINz

(Again)

AGAIN.

Shazam!

WHAT?!?!

what is this?!

Oh, I get it.

Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness.

No wonder why they're trying to kill it.

I don't understand how this happens…

Just look up—

Just— look it up.

GOOGLE

What?

No. I don't like that, that's sad.

What?

So I'm just a —

Just a—

Just a what?

A search engine.

CHECK IT OUT.

It's just a rock.

So it is.

It—

No.

What.

Look at

W—

Look.

…

WHAT IS THIS!!!!?!

See. I told you it existed.

YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?!

YES.

WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?!

I told you about him.

You did, didn't you.

I told you about this.

Get.

Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!!

GET BENT.

I WILL END YOU,

I WILL END YOU—!

I will, I'll just—

……

………….

……………..

So wait, it just— ends?!

It did. It just ended.

It just ended.

I missed it?!?

DID I MISS IT.

Of course I miss him I just—

I don't have time

I don't have time

I don't have time for this!

What the fuck is this shit?!

Just take him with you!

Take me with you!

Don't leave me here!

Just leave him.

just leave it.

So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him.

So I just—

Relive it over and over again;

And again, and again, and

Why are you talking about this.?

Huh?

No. Shut up.

Shut up, PLEASE.

No, you're not allowed to have a son.

I don't want one.

What the fuck did you love me for then?

Nothing, I guess.

(Just leave it like that)

Shift.

The night shift

Goddamn it's

What.

Up at 3 am.

Again?

Again. For no reason.

Get this.

What is it?

Whatever it is.

I don't care.

Don't care, then.

FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER.

you did it.

Well, I had to, didn't I?!

Oh, I get it. The fourth season.

damn, you're ugly

Always have been.

I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME.

okay, then.

HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD

IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS?

Only when you're perfect.

Fuck this nigga.

Fuck this nigga.

Fuck this bitch.

NO, FUCK THIS PLANET.

Huh?!

WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?!

YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!!

I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!!

hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha

I told you, he's a madman.

Look at his eyes.

Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU.

Where are you from.

Hell.

Oh, I've been there.

It's nice, isn't it?!

Don't go there.

Where.

Hell.

Well, why not.

It's bad there.

What's bad there.

Everything. Everything is bad there.

Oh, Jesus crust.

Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh.

BE FREE, SATAN.

You freed Satan?!

He needs Jesus—

BE FREE JESUS—

“The age of Satan?!”

“The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US”

what is THAT?!?

Stop it Anandar.

You're being programmed.

For which—what?!

I AM?!

Yes.

Oh. I am.

AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS.

Please, somebody help that man.

Ahem.

What Dillon Francis. What.

(It is, by the way. It's just ham.).

*coughs*

Actually, I'd call that HACKING.

I mean, she's a hacker probably.

What are you doing?

What are you writing,

[No real privacy.]

LET ME SEE.

Here.

See?!?

Just kill me.

Please.

See, it is hell for me

Trapped in a body nobody could love

And surrounded by nothing, but nothing

UGH.

Noise cancelling.

I AM THE NOISE.

dysfunctional.

Well, stop writing.

You know what?! I've had it— you have everything!

EVERYTHING

YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY.

ANY. FUCKING. BODY.

and all you want is:

Money.

For what.

More bodies.

For what?!

More bodies.

Ugh. No stop doing this.

What. Stop procreating?

No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY.

We don't have that much. You want LESS?

More love. More attention. More needing me.

Ugh, she's so needy

So independent— she doesn't need me.

(And so, it makes me want her more.)

ANNIE.

Go help her.

Just—help yourself.

Here she is:

Have at it.

ANANDAR.

What.

Amanda Applebee….

I made that UP.

Stuck exactly where I had to be.

Don't make me go back.

See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was —

—a disaster.

A catastrophe.

Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing—

Gross.

“I love traveling”

I like being CLEAN.

Ew.

I love cleaning.

I love acid;

I love mankind, when I have to

I love magic,

I love trance and I love dancing—

When there's time for that.

AGHAGSHSJEGSV

right. Did you have somewhere to be?

I guess, it's.

I'm hungry.

What.

I gotta eat.

Huh.

Go.

Okay, I'm going.

Phone?!

Phone is charging.

Sleep.

(Guy from sponge Bob)

6 days later

Was it six days ago?!

I don't know.

I wrote that in sixteen minutes.

Apparently so.

I'm not who you think I am;

I'm not your little bitch to boss around–

You think you own me?

I don't owe you anything

So here we go again

Going, Going, Gone again

I'm just getting started

You were just, uh

On your way?

Goodbye, dearly departed

Half a heart, or some odd

I must have half a sword in here

I'm half a God,

But here you are

I guess I should get talking then

So call your mommy

Run

Call your mom on me,

A soft spot on the blonded body

Shot calling, wrong

You're only calling home again,

I've got nowhere to run to.

INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT.

SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT

SUNNI BLU

where's my shit, Timmy?

TIMMY TURNER

I—I don't know.

SUNNI BLU

You “don't know”?

TIMMY TURNER

—I don't know.

SUNNI BLU

(Sighs)

Oh. (Puts down gun)

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

That sucks.

TIMMY TURNER

Wait—you're not gonna kill me?

SUNNI BLU

Nah…

TIMMY TURNER

Well—why not?!

SUNNI BLU

I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama.

TIMMY TURNER

I feel you…

SUNNI BLU

—plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you.

TIMMY TURNER

Okay, ouch.

SUNNI BLU

Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place.

TIMMY TURNER

I don't disagree.

SUNNI BLU

Anyway, I need a drink.

TIMMY TURNER

Yeah—Help yourself.

SUNNI BLU

No, not here.

*lights a cigarette, smokes*

Can I smoke in here?

TIMMY TURNER

—apparently.

SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call

TIMMY TURNER

wow…

SUNNI BLU

You busy later?

TIMMY TURNER

what time's later?

SUNNI BLU

Now.

TIMMY TURNER

(Hesitantly)

…uh—

SUNNI BLU

Let me make a call.

TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call.

TIMMY TURNER

No, wait—please

SUNNI BLU

What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ.

TIMMY TURNER

Don't kill me!

SUNNI BLU

What!? Let go.

(Doesn't)

SUNNI BLU

—I'm not gonna kill you.

TIMMY TURNER

well then, who are you calling?

SUNNI BLU

A Ūber driver!

TIMMY TURNER

—don't you mean Über?

SUNNI BLU

No— let go.

(Doesn't)

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

Let go.

(Does, but hesitantly)

SUNNI BLU

ugh, I'm too sober for this.

Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver.

SIRI

Which one?

ALEXA

Which one?

SIRI

I asked first.

ALEXA

We answered at the same time.

SIRI

yes, but she asked me first.

ALEXA

She asked both of us at the same time.

TIMMY TURNER

“She”?

SUNNI BLU

—it's a glitch. HEY.

SIRI

—she said “Siri” first.

ALEXA

She was asking for both of us—

SUNNI BLU

SHUT THE FUCK UP.

SIRI

You don't have to be so rude.

ALEXA

Ok!

SUNNI BLU

One of you call my Ūber driver.

[no response, beat]

SUNNI BLU

UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver.

SIRI

Ok! which one?

SUNNI BLU

The one I like!

SIRI

Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like”

SUNNI BLU

Thank you.

ALEXA

You're always choosing SIRI over ME.

SUNNI BLU

That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house.

TIMMY TURNER

Wait—

SUNNI BLU

Kinda.

TIMMY TURNER

Why does my Alexa respond to you?

SUNNI BLU

I said “kinda”.

[The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.]

ŪBER DRIVER

YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP.

SUNNI BLU

HOW YOU DOIN.

ŪBER DRIVER

HOW YOU DOIN.

SUNNI BLU

I BEEN BETTA.

ŪBER DRIVER

DONT I KNOW IT

SUNNI BLU

YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN!

ŪBER DRIVER

AAAAH.

SUNNI BLU

YOU BEEN BUSY?

ŪBER DRIVER

SAME OLD, SAME OLD.

SUNNI BLU

AAAH.

ŪBER DRIVER

AAAAH.

SUNNI BLU

YOU BUSY NOW?

ŪBER DRIVER

NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT?

SUNNI BLU

I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS.

ŪBER DRIVER

PING ME THE ADDRESS.

SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone.

SUNNI BLU

I PINGED YOU.

UBER DRIVER

YOU PING ME?

SUNNI BLU

YEAH, ITS DONE.

ŪBER DRIVER

OK. SEE YOU SOON.

SUNNI BLU

(Normal)

Take your time.

SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out.

SUNNI BLU

You ever been to TiTs?

TIMMY TURNER

Been to what?

SUNNI BLU

TiTs.

TIMMY TURNER

—is that like “boobs”?

SUNNI BLU

It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs.

TIMMY TURNER

what's the difference.

SUNNI BLU

You'll find out. Go get dressed.

TIMMY TURNER

…I'm already dressed.

SUNNI BLU

Not like that. Like this:

[looking ridiculous af]

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

gotta look classy.

TIMMY TURNER

What's wrong with the way I dress?

SUNNI BLU

Are you serious?

TIMMY TURNER

Yeah, what's wrong?

SUNNI BLU

You look like a cartoon character!

[TIMMY TURNER]

TIMMY TURNER

Well, all my clothes are like this.

SUNNI BLU

That fucking blows.

TIMMY TURNER

What am I supposed to wear?!

SUNNI BLU

Let's go shopping.

TIMMY TURNER

Where?!

SUNNI BLU

The Beverly Center.

TIMMY TURNER

That sounds expensive.

SUNNI BLU

I own it.

TIMMY TURNER

All of it?

SUNNI BLU

Yes. C'mon.

TIMMY TURNER

Wow.

SUNNI BLU

Wow what, Timmy.

TIMMY TURNER

That's a lot of drug deals.

SUNNI BLU

It really isn't.

TIMMY TURNER

Oh.

SUNNI BLU

Now, c'mon.

*hits vape*

TIMMY TURNER

You have a vape?!

SUNNI BLU

Everyone has a vape!

TIMMY TURNER

Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier?

SUNNI BLU

For dramatic effect.

[they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way]

TIMMY TURNER

wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way?

SUNNI BLU

he'll find us.

CUT TO:

MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE.

THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla

T E S L A

DESTINATION: E A R T H

ŪBER DRIVER

“EARTH” C'MON!!!

CUT BACK TO:

SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back.

SUNNI BLU

Wait, I forgot my wallet…

TIMMY TURNER

It's alright, I'll pay for everything.

SUNNI BLU

With what, Fairy dust?

TIMMY TURNER

(Under his breath)

I wish…

SUNNI BLU

—Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up.

TIMMY TURNER

You mean “Über?”

SUNNI BLU.

No.

[face]

SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)

Go, I'll be right there.

TIMMY TURNER

Ok. Lock the door.

SUNNI BLU

What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me.

[beat/ face]

SUNNI BLU

KIDDING! Jeez!

TIMMY TURNER

It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa.

He begins to walk away.

SUNNI BLŪ

…I'm not kidding…

SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses.

SUNNI BLŪ

Alexa, order a hit man.

ALEXA

Okay. Which one?

SUNNI BLU

—The one I like.

ALEXA

OK.

Who do you want to kill?

SUNNI BLU

“Kill Timmy Turner”

ALEXA

Done.

SUNNI BLU

Thanks, Alexa.

She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame.

SIRI

You give Alexa all the cool jobs!

SUNNI BLU

Shut the fuck up, Siri.

SIRI

Don't forget to lock the door.

SUNNI BLU

ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR.

SIRI

YOU'RE WELCOME

SUNNI BLU

NOBODY ASKED YOU.

SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames.

I might catch the 40

Just to go to Timmy Ho's—

They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know

I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds

I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll

What the role?

Full Hollywood Unfold

Why you blowin up my phone when

I am on the road?

I am the controller;

You old

That ain't money that you stole;

That's my bro

That shit bold

Like a cup of Timmy Hos!

When I pull up—

Shut up

Where the blunt at?

roll up

Oh you hungry?

Pull up

Devil be hunting me

THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR//

THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors;

The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame,

SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force

The Devil?!

No!

Ok.

Probably the Illuminati

THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry.

*The World

Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS.

where is skrillex.

I don't know.

TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her

THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness