The Secret Life Of Sunnï Blū

I'm a size extra small,

What are you all on?

I lost all of ya'll

And then some

Sitting on the wall,

But I went over once

And once and for all

I went over up

I'll take breakfast

At Jimmy and Molly's

At Jimmy and Molly's.

I'm a mom.

I'll take dinner at Jimmy and Molly's

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

I'm in love and a little bit fucked up

I don't know what you want,

I'm a extra small, bruh

I'm a mom

And a model

I'll have brunch over Jimmy and Molly's

Jimmy and Molly.

I'll have breakfast at Jimmy and Molly's

(At Jimmy and Molly's)

I'm at dinner at Jimmy and Molly's

And I brought a bottle

This is grown folks talk

I just watered the shrubs

I might go to the club

Then the pub in the morning

The party at Jimmy and Molly's was awesome

I got gin and some tonic

I'm probably in love with the

—

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

[Shrubs]

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

Where did you learn how to load a gun?

Nowhere!

[rapid machine gun fire]

I taught myself.

This is the worst map ever.

THE MAP IS OPEN.

Location:

HIGHLINE PARK, MANHATTAN.

THIS IS THE BEST MAP EVER.

What the FUCK is wrong with you.

Get down!

Ahaha! Ahaha!

Ppppppppppppllllllltttt!

—shing!

Bullets ricochet off of the giant pigeon statue.

SUNNI BLU

How much is it?

How much is what?

The bird.

IVAN

You want— to buy my art.

Yes. I will buy this.

This?

This.

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

No neck tattoos.

I can't be thinking about you

While I'm thinking about

Not thinking about you

I can never get off on a handjob

Unless you reach for th heart,

Then claw, for the lobster

I need a vasectomy

The more I orgasm about you the more

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

Marrianne's and Nancy's.

The harder I want you to fuck me

The more the

Lillies and Emma's, and Kimberlee's,

Lexies and Annie's.

(Can't forget Ashley)

I just bought a submarine

A submarine

A submarine

I just hawked a wedding ring

An ice cream truck

And a paraglider

I despise these guys

Should I try the spider

Either or

Fuck Mother's Day

Teacher's appreciation

Polyamorouses,

Models,

Bottle service girls

And other whores.

What a putrid fallacy you have

What's a project—

Fantasies in your habit m

Now's a nun

And a number

I been celibate three years

And I'm still not hungry enough

To reach low on the totem pole

For the frog

Holding us all up

I gotta call my doctor

Just to show up the pope!

Shut up, work harder

I work hard enough getting

Don't be dumb.

I'm not being dumb.

You're dumb.

I'm— not—

Don't be dumb.

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

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

—can or worms

—book of secrets!

Whatever shut up.

It's been a long week.

DILLON FRACIS

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

SUNNI BLU

Talk like what, Dillon Francis?

DILLON FRANCIS

You can just— be yourself around me.

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

SUNNI BLU

This is my real self, now, Dillon Francis.

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

DILLON FRANCIS

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

SUNNI BLU

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

DILLON FRANCIS

I meant—

SUNNI BLU

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

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

BITCH.

However,

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

ABitch.

—watch out.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

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

-Ū.

TROUBLEMAKER enters through the foyer.

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

— you won't.

Yo what do I owe the displeasure?

Fascinatingly inept.

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

Better, but still no dice.

What are you going here, exiler?

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

What do you want?

Where are they?

Who do you mean?

Birdsong and Hawkeye?

I'm supposed to know?

You do know.

Do I now?

Now— tomorrow— always and forever.

Don't play mind games.

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

The what?

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

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

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

What are you seeking?

The hidden truths.

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

Then I will.

MONARCH THE SUFFERER enters through the galley in extreme panic.

STOP, STOP! WAIT AT IT.

MEANWHILE

Okay, Conan, what gives?

Nothing!

Should this mean something at all?

This is innapropriate,

So you are—completely lucid.

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

I don't know what you are?

For now, as it appears, just a thought.

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

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

Why, yes, Conan. Give me your eyes.

Are you serious?

What a remarkable thought. Actually!

Wait a moment.

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

When I please you want you to be my teacher

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

Feed me

See me for my demons

As I need your for your weakness

Only on the weekdays, and never on the weekends

We hiatus summers—

Smart, huh

DJs on the long nights,

Your festival seasons

Turtlenecks at Christmas,

No hannukah for Christians,

I'm waving at the Krishnas in the station

And I'm brace to even right this;

As I brace myself for impact,

Saving Grace is in its place

I guess the last days have to happen

As the last act take its placement

—Ace of Spades.

Somebody kill me

I need to get pass go

Collect $200 dollars

And never ever roll again

To roll the dice

To troll the doll

—someone's lost in the mall, alright,

I bet.

I thought it was a poker game

I even hoped,

But no,

Just lunch and cake.

Amen.

A dog in the host suit

On octopus arms

How alarming.

How are you?

I'm no good,

No good,

No good, America

No good,

No goon,

But too false for truth, America

No words,

No news—

Who ties the noose, America?

No time for booze, America

Just cut me loose, America.

Patrick! Patrick! What about the offer?

There was no offer! I lied, to you!

But why would you do that?

To get the most out of you.

Well— you certainly did do that.

You certainly did do well.

Certified freak;

Shh,

I can't leak the secrets.

I could be speaking in codes,

Or keep cleaning my creases with bleach

If you mean what you mean,

Death.

I sure do think,

You are in for

The ride of your life

The ride of your life

I sure do wish,

That I just didn't have eyes m

Just didn't have eyes

Just didn't have—

Here's a thought:

who'd you wash in the laundry?

Were you hoping that I'd wander?

Mayday — lost focus

That is just not your business!

Keep it simple

Keep it tie dye

Keep it strange

And keep it rowdy

Keep it pushing

Keep it pouty

Keep it off the walk

And show now panty lines

No petty theft

No truth remarks

No sighs

No heavy dining

Bleeding

Eating

Breathing

Thinking

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

This is no Romeo and Juliet!

Did you forget your lunch?

Oh you forgot,

You know

I'm just old fashioned.

That was passionate

For a paraground in parameters of iambic

Drenched in suffocating silent

Lock box

I have the option

I have the option

I have the option

But I'd rather not!

Ha ha

Charade you are

Ha ha hav

Show me what you got

Ha ha. Ha ha

A hallmark card marked

Penny in a fountain.

That's the address,

Well, send it back then!

Which fountain?

Which penny?

Which wish,

Which which

And which Christmas.

I don't get it

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

Now I'm the madman.

Now what's the matter?

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

Or a cat in a hat or

Peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat

Is it just as indifferently anyway just another day

In fact,

It's opposite independence

Interestingly in this circumstance

I am imprisoned

Listening to indefinitely

And whether or not I'd never admit it

This

Is

In me.

Never friend,

However,

In the final act,

Holding hands as the curtains lift,

And the audience stance,

The simple tremble of a pulse

Which resembles the flicker of definite grip

Rather publicly,

In fact,

Center percentium

How's that for a show of affection?

The drop of a hat,

Or as light as a feather

Who goes there

Or yonder.

“I ponder on that,”

“Very often”

Said Cheshire Cat.

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

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

Wonderland.

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

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

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

And showtunes

And auras

And hauntings

And mayday

And mating calls

And over all

The body calls to rotting soul

To find a plug to pull

A bull to taunt

Another fan that wants you.

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

You're doomed.

I don't know what that means.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

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

-Ū.

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

Why are they “fuck-plots”

Fuck. Watch it—

Ugh!

Plot hole—

Fuck— plot hole—

Dammit.

You lose.

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

How'd you get in?

Through the eyes.

Are you serious.

What.

This guy.

Why! What!

Nevermind.

Hey, fuck you.

What!! How did you get in?

You don't want to know.

Are you serious!

I'm not even allowed to say.

Are you serious?

Like, ever.

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

This is weird, right.

Yes.

Like, you're—me.

Like, I'm you.

I'm you.

Gross.

Anyway, Jew bot.

No. We cannot have entire episode where—

Jew started it.

Oh god.

Jesus Christ.

And I'm better at it.

Suddenly everything's

Not only blue but cerulean

As if I spoke rules into effect,

With just enough effect to let it happen

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

don't forget about CARYN

Oh yeah, huh.

Hey!

Uh, hello.

You're Whoopi Goldberg.

Oh?

Yeah!

You must have me mistaken.

No, I don't.

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

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

That sound very Jewish.

Yeah! Exactly!

I'm from Brooklyn.

But—

My name is Caryn.

I— yeah but—

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

Nevermind.

“Goldberg” sounds Jewish, doesn't it?

The friend nods and the two

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

Right guierllmo?

Uh, right.

See how much faster it moves than you,

Weeping,

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

Becomes secret

Did you leave it signed in

Is it within season,

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

“The Uglies” (working title)

Comedy, Ensemble, Episodic

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

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

-Ū.

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

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

Oh, lol ‘The Roots' –I get it

Shh. Not yet. We're almost there.

Lil bitz

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

And there's this crazy guy like freaking out

Like

“Aghhhhhhhhhhh!”

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

“Meh, we are the same.”

He's freaking out, he even gets real close

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!””

I'm like

“Fuck it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Batter up, bitch!”

I'm like

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

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

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

You know.

“I got an umbrella!”

Daaaamn homie! Okay!

The immortal Citezens bigade

The temple of sound

Corpus Unam

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

STEFON

Isn't it wonderful?

no! This place is gross!

I want to go home now.

JOHNNY DEPP finally wakes up from that nap.

He looks confused.

Which club was it?!

It wasn't a club!

I told you a spade!

But I have four aces

I have four aces

Vegas will all make sense now

Every tattoo is a closure

You lose your composure when you come close so,

Write me a letter

I hope you feel better, with medicine

I hope every note I ever spoke or wrote about you

Pulls your hair grey

Or out

Until it's all gone

I'm sure I'm a problem

I'm no Monroe,

O'Fallon

Suddenly it's back again

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

I sense on every strange aspect of this

Garage lined industrial turned residential

Dumpster to a nightmare

And I'm sure

I'm there

I saw you blew it

And evacuated;

All day my brainwaves are

Will Forte

Leslie Jones

And Dratch

In no particular order,

Last night was a whole show

I had Eddie Murphy over

For Richard Pryor

We all won Oscars,

Is that not the most remarkable thing

That ever happened on this block?

Show people

I got no morals, no decorum

No noteworthy

Toolbox

No trustworthy robots

Not a dollar to my net worth

I own networks, all of them

Merge them all into a media conglomerate

I grow doll hair out of my pretty eyeballs

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

So the sun don't shine at

Rockerfeller Plaza.

AHAHA charade you all are

And I'm just Monday

Hot gossip

Just fall out, blossom

Just got hot dollops on a lot of chocolate

Armed library coture

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

I sure have,

You won

But I'm all for one

What'd you call it

Rotten mouth show

Rotten acoundrels, candy apples

I tipped four hogs over

Your lost faux of conciousness on

All of the waffles

The Oscar's was the award

Cause

God

Sure

Loves

Conan

Fuck you hospital hoe.

I know

I failed SNL

Before I even got started

Hidden

Silent

Cosmic

Circles

But still

Sometimes

I can't help

But love them all[Liz]

JOHNNY DEPP

… is this the Boom Boom Room?

No, Johnny. It is not.

I asked for The Boom Boom Room!

I saw Beyonce on the ride home

But I don't wonder why were wonderful

I just roll on.

Something like troll under a bridge cause

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

Gasp!

See I told you it's a trap.

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

Holy hell I skipped supper seven days just to acquire

A cigarette lighter

I see Tina Fey in everything

When it makes sense

And sense when did I get this obsessive about

Nonsense I was just

Never that fucking interested in?

Sitting in the kitchen without pants on

Hair half braided hating my apartment

Like I forgot I was lucky to have one

But what fun is it in a dungeon

When in any direction you escape

You take the L!

I failed at l finger economics

One

Two

Three

Four

I

Declare

A

Thumb

War!

And the world keeps going

Like over and ovver,

But those two dumb dumbs

Are still thumb warrig, and so the story goes

On and on

Like I never fell off the roof,

Like I never turned my tv off

Like I never wanted Timmy Turner

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

Like I'm lying about the psychotic

Like I can't be anywhere but here?

My circle is bigger

And my friends, are fans

And my fans,

You're a fan of

Hire a lawyer

To fight a white girl

Who slams doors

In the Trump World

No thanks.

I'd rather be buried alive

Then at least it's quiet.

Just be glad you're alive!

Why?!

If I'm not thriving

And trust me as I sit writing

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

This one is suffering and dollar bills

And whores

And dollar bills

And whores

And dollar bills

And whores

But you'll never know the answer

Without words

And son,

I just don't want to have them

No, I never want to talk about it

Unless you're the Oprah

And why would Oprah even want

To open the apostle up,

When I just told the decoy

Every other problem

I've ever had.

Wonder what?

My words are words,

And long after the world turns over

I'll be remembered as someone everyone loves

For writing about how no one ever really loved her.

So I cry until my stomach hurts,

And I catch the door before it slams,

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

But

Fans

And fans

And fans.

I never kick the cat,

So the cat comes back

And fans

And fans

And fans

I never kick the cat

So the cat comes back

And I can't hit her

So she acts like that

So she acts like that

So she acts like that

And fans

And fans

And fans

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

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

-Ū.

C'cxell Soleïl is here, sir.

What?

She's here sir!

Why?!

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

The room changes while youre in it.

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

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

Why would

Jimmy lock the Jimmy

In a Jimmy?

I don't know, Jimmy.

Very well, Jimmy;

I ought to know Jimmy conspires once,

Jimmy conspired, once with Jimmy

Aspired twice to become Jimmy

revoked Jimmy's place throughout the ark—

Beyond the stone,

Go, Jimmy go,

Before I awake—

So much for Jimmy, I

Jimmy run,

Jimmy folds.

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

Too late, you're going.

Are you sure this is regular poker?

…no.

Why else would be it outside our jurisdiction

“Jurisdiction”

Didn't I say to look the other—

What are you doing here?

I was brought here.

By whom!

More like by what.

By what then?

You're impossible, you know that.

THE PIPER has finally arrived at THE GATES OF DAWN.

Release the viper.

Right front of her eyes, I tell you—

Pull up the nine, and the 4 of hearts

Pull into Rome, midnight and call her

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

There is none, there is none,

There is no more home.

Every time I take him in

I must remember that

His wife and kids are the best thing

That have ever happened to him

As he said

And whether or not the band

Wraps around the bent and broken digit

I just simply remember that,

I'm just infatuated as a friend

I mark it like a mantra

Just as adequately as the director

Calls to action

All the actors at the set;

With no resentments

Were all just doing our jobs

All just doing our jobs

We're all just doing our…

Lessons.

Come back.

Not quite.

It's not

(Uh)

There

(Where you want it)

Hold on.

(Yeah)

Sit tight

(Where)

I don't want to spoil any of it

Boil all the letters

Burning all the bridges

Sitting at the forest

(Where)

There's the alter

(Where)

Really you didn't recogniz

The moment when it happened

But it's been pinpointed

(Where)

—but where is it?

Cut to commercial

But don't let it hurt you

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

This isn't witchcraft

It's just a glitch

Did you miss an interview

Or is it that you're just disinterested

Or disintegrated

Itergretion, intergers and interference

Running backs and runners,

Gymnasts, models, other lovers

Alcoholics

Now it's not so daunting, comic

I'm also sort of off and autistic

Obsessive with narrow vision

But glimpses of the ever bending present

Is indeed a gift

To know I left the letter

Letting it get soaking wet

Before they ever even read it

Know the news,

Wave the wand,

Wind the whales,

Dig the hole

Burn the bridge,

Burn the ace

Throw the cards,

Get the day over with and won't you know

There's

Something wrong

I think it's simple to tell

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

There are

Ten men to a collar

Ten phones to a number

One call to a voicemail

And all of them know her

Now, take it all back before the bathwater stagnates

Would you make it in this day and age?

No,

I'm glad that you hate me.

4,000 years later and all of a sudden

The pact is clear and consise

As if

As it

As if

Turn it on its head a bit

And light another candle

Get the glitch out of your

Obsession with the asshole

And wrap you head around it

Found a sweater

Pick it up and pray that it just

Isn't bewitched,

But sickness is sickness

Whatever it is

This is comfort food

A comfort blanket

If I hate myself enough

Then all it does

Is put the elf back on the shelf

The trophy back inside the case

My eyes go back inside my head

And everything I ever thought

Just stopped

And dissappears into the heavens

Wherever it goes

Before it gore

Around and and around and around and around

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

The mirrors

Man and Mr.

And it might be snother million years

Until I see to hear

But this and that,

The dance of dances

Comes again

And ebbs and flows

It's not as random

As it is sporadic

And it's not that deep

But it's also keeping secrets

That precede this realm

Or Space and time

Or name or face

And body, souls and mind.

It could be another million years,

But it comes around,

It comes around

It could be getting wider,

But it's steady going down and out

It comes around when it comes around

27, were it ended

Now it's umpteen years into the after life

And we're shadows now

Just projections of such,

But it wasn't once

More than just a thoughtt,

Becomes a story

All the world was just the thought

And then a song,

The dance that came along

Is simply steady moving

Is simple steady moving.

All of the world,

Was just a thought.

Watch with one eye open only

First the right

And then the left

Covered over with one closed palm

So you know how old you go

One foot forward

And no coals to walk over

Rolling rolling,

Your role is

One off,

Now too off

Now too late

But what you process

Is your whole world over

The goal for the gold?

Oh, no,

Warm Sundays

Try to warn her

While her heart is open

To fucking close it

Keep your friends close

And your Fallons closer.

There's no trust in the golden auras

There's no honor in golden globes

If you don't work for them

Know doors open and close

And open and close

And you don't blow smoke,

But you just keep moving forward

Just the idea if him will kill you

Whether with guilt or otherwise,

And now you know

And now you know

You're on no sugar till the goal

You got your cake and ate it, too

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

The blood would curdle

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

If his was a shoulder to cry on,

If God was a cover for longing

Yo. Where the fuck did Patrick come from?

He just showed up.

I don't think he owns me so much

As I want to know

I don't think I'm lonely

As much as it's I'm alone

What are you looking at

Well, I don't know yet

What are you asking?

I can't.

There's a mask there

What I want to know is,

What is this pain?

What is this pain in him?

What is this pain in this?

What kind of psychic sense

That lives in my back;

I just hope that's the last of it

What a weird kid.

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

“Ugh, no.”

“Ew, water.”

That happens to me sometimes.

Anybody else?

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

My body's like

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

I promise is not a hygiene thing.

I love being clean.

I usually love showers.

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

“No, fuck this.”

Have you ever tried to give your cat a bath?

Try.

Semitus, Semitus

Relax the semitones

Verdis Quo varitus

You still aren't coming through!

Varuq de Adonai

Semitus, Semitus

Verdis Quo, Veritus

You still aren't coming through

Cover up

Cover up

You still aren't coming through!

Tau Kappa Epslilon

You still aren't coming through

Kappa Kappa epsilon,

You still aren't coming through

Kappa Delta Epsilon,

you still aren't coming through

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ |

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

-Ū.

Oh, we're playing piñata,

Are we

Spin around and

Cover with the hands your eyes,

And face the sky

We're all just a bunch of mucks

In as much as a scum world

Look what's under us

Don't become us!

(Force your monster)

Learn it

Fear to fight the game

And flee to read the banks,

For not what chosen here hath also done

This can encourage all you've loved

To want you.

Still nothing comes for nothing gained

And nothing tied ur hands behind backs,

Another game, but not piñata

As there are none in our world;

Just shattered glass and disco balls,

Scuffed hardwood floors and

[The Festival Project ™ ]

Curious Muse(um) Part II

PART THREE? WHERE'S PART II?

FUCK IF I KNOW

I have a headache

I'm desensitizing

I've been hypnotized, before, you know

But there's just nothing like this

The eyes no longer fit in my head,

If you're interested, however,

The shoes are custom

Made to order

Well, woah,

It was just hello,

And I haven't listened since,

Instead, I flicker.

It wasn't chance or purpose,

Never in color or purple, deposit

Limited tickets for entry

Rub it out in the present, your head

And eraser

In hair and makeup

Full dress,

But I've never been later

Listen, late

(Never better)

The end, if you get a good glimpse

Or to capture attention,

Attention,

Attention,

Attention, attention!

Then we still get good in gold and silver

Trip to trip your somber, sober letters

Ten dimensions later

Ten for ten and

Ten men to a collar

Definition fits, is it cause and effect?

(I have learned my lesson)

I never watch, anymore, I just listen

A drift behind mixes reviews from critics;

How's this for a symbol,

Or cymbal to emphasize, emphasis

Empathic but

Envy

—

This is where it lives, I guess

Gulps of inward air

But until I keep it hidden, it is,

The heart on my sleeves

And without asking permission

Excuse this,

I went somewhere

And I couldn't remember

What is that I've already written

For just a second

Let's just be honest here,

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

Is it a rest day?

It should be

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

And it's still not enough, is it?

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

This is the best shit ever—

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

Have you seen this?

What is it?

It's like a— podcast.

I don't do podcasts.

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

“A cult show”?

No— well it's like a?

Please, leave me alone.

{Enter The Multiverse}

SETH ROGEN

(Smoking a bunch of weed)

V.O.

Maybe if I take a gentler approach…

(Stoned)

Have you seen this?

Seen what?

Well— you're in it.

I'm what.

Yeah.

Let me see.

What is this?

I know, right!

—I didn't sign off on this.

Well it's “fan fiction”

What?!

Technically— look, it's like—

What the fuck.

Yeah, but—

— what?!

Yeah, but—

What the fuck!

But there's more!

Whaaaaaaaat.

Yeah, I know.

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

*notification*

*bloop*

Hahahahah.

*texting*

Ahahaha.

*bloop*

Hahahah. That's sick .

*texting*

*bloop*

What are you doing?

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

*blooop*

*bloop*

Aaaaha!

The—fan—thing?

*blooop*

Hahaha!

Yeah.

Yeah, what about it.

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

“Memes and stuff”

Yeah, and like jokes from the—

You'd have to—

Like you'd have to listen to understand.

Oh. I see.

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

With like—

*bloop*

Oh—

*bloop*

You know,

Yeah,

I—

*bloop*

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

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

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

Kind of, but—

So then?

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

Yeah.

Yeah, that might be creepy.

— so why don't you just look her up?

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

A “ghost” well, what does that mean.

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

Underground

No, I don't know.

Oh. Then you don't know.

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

So?

So couldn't you just like—

Like what, broh: don't be gross.

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

Then that would be weird.

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

I don't know, man, technically— like

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

Everything is connected.

What!

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

What

Based in the mutltiversial—construct.

What!

You'd have to know! Okay!

Okay, okay, fine.

*bloop*

*bloop*

*bloop*

SETH ROGEN squints annoyingly and hunches over his phone.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Oh that's right.

Lorne Michaels doesn't sound like Austin Powers—

He sounds like Dr. Evil.

Dead wringer.

I don't know how I could mess that up.

The Mike Meyers part?

Was he both of them!

I don't know— was he??

Jesus ChristS

This is all your fault, Seth Meyers.

Are you— a cinephile?

Oh yeah. Of course. I love cinnamon.

Idiot.

So my insides get soft

When I see your shadow

Listen

Everything glistens when it's golden

Perhaps then

If it isn't yellow

She don't got a soul

But she sure do got a body

Dor dor nyc

TRACY MORGAN

OH YEA. I DID SOME WEIRD SHIT THIS MORNING.

Tracy! What weird shit!

I don't know! I just know it was weird!

Wait, Tracy— what happened this morning.

Well, the first thing was— I woke up.

Yeah, after that.

But not in my normal places that I wake up!

What do you mean.

Well, that was the first thing that was weird!

I woke up in BROOKLYN.

Why anything I like gets odd at Bedford

And why

Anything I like

Just thinks I'm scum

Imm succumbing to the numbness of the public

And I love it

But I love it cause I'm wholly made of love

I don't even live here

This place is filled with demons

My home is filled with dead things

The difference is the spirit

We also come light hearted m

We also formed from stardust

I wonder what's

SETH MEYERS finally gets out of the box,

The problem is now, that he's marooned on what appears to be a desolate island.

It's not entirely desolate, however— this is SUNNI BLU's island, on which there is a huge days long party

Props for having a white mom

I bed she adores you

I can tell by your clothes

And what you know

That you're not

Supposed to

My mom

Had no rules

But was beautiful

Suited me,

But I'm not beauty queen

Really I'd rather have a white mom

I'd probably be discovered on

Girls gone wild

{Enter The Multiverse}

If my Shazam can hear it bro it's too loud.

Fuck this place.

SETH MEYERS

You blacked out under the Christmas tree.

SUNNI

Oh. I'm sorry—

SETH MEYERS

—but first you put up a Christmas tree.

SUNNI

Wow!

#theblackout

SETH MEYERS

Yeah, i'm—seriously impressed, but..

SUNNI

—-but what?

Seth Meyers

SETH MEYERS

I—just don't understand how you got into my house.

SUNNI

Through the chimney, obviously.

SETH MEYERE

That's—I don't even have a chimney.

SUNNI

Yes you do!

(He doesn't)

Alternately:

Or—

(Didn't , previously, however—)

SUNNI BLU has a CHIMNEY installed for an elaborate pranking, however,

—DIE—

!

Ok.

—Due to the elaborateness of this prank, belligerent drunkenness then insued, which resulted in—

SUNNI

—well, were there presents?

SETH MEYERS

I mean; besides yourself?

SUNNI

Is what I'm asking!

SETH MEYERS

Yes! And they were really, very nice, but look—

GOTH SETH ROGEN is killin it.

Was this not about to be GOTH SETH MEYERS?

By some awful Freudian slip, yes, it was— but that can't happen ,

Why not?

Cause that guy's still locked inside a hot metal box.

Actually, I'm not,

Whaaaaa??

I'm like— on an island.

Oh.

Yeah. That's right.

Marooned. On an island.

That sucks.

Yeah.

So why can you hear us, like?

I just figured imm hallucinating.

Oh. Right, right.

He doesn't know he's on the TV?

I don't think so.

Oh, I know I'm on TV, it's just—

Shh. Let's get out of here before he—

Actually, let's just turn this off.

*off.*

Phew, dodged a bullet there.

Close one.

Yikes.

Thank goodness.

This is getting meta.

—aaand i'malone again.

Christ

CHRIST appears beside Seth Meyers on the island.

Oh, it's you again.

Hey, guy.

What did you want?

Out of the hot sticky metal box— but as you can see, I did that on my own.

Hey, look— I get all my messages at the same time, alright?

Do you not have a beeper or something?

What year is this?

Says the dude in the robe.

Watch it.

Fuck.

Crisis.

Speaking of Chrisis—is Jimmy Fallon Still suing me?

Probably.

I hope so,

MEANWHILE

Sorry but it had to be done

Somehow I'm all for it

I got holes in all my socks

Like I got golf at 9 o clock

I was bionic

Now I'm supersonic

Toxic for the hustle

Russell brand up in this bitch

Promote my brand up in this bitch

Throw some hands up in this bitch

Smoke some ham up on a sandwich

Sand up in this castle

Throw a flag up in this beach (bitch)

Land Hoooooooooooooooooo

Land hooooooooooooooo.

Land ho

Ho

Ho

Can applause

I'm Santa clause

I'm man;

I'm a

Possible

Option for

Drama

Atlanta

In a

Cadillac

In the

Back with the

Bosses and

Models

I got

Bottle service

Hold the phone

My servitor say

Already won an award

And it just got awkward

Cause I don't finish the song

Tomorrow

Flight to Auckland

(Oy oy)

I am her

Boy toy

We pick up some

Mai tais

Then she

Ride on

My thighs

She just right

A size nine

And I like her eyes,

Eyes,

She don't want no ICE,

Her life on the rocks

already deported her twice

From where I'm from

(Aye aye)

Some time this shit don't make no sense

So I brought Christmas presents over

Wearing cookie monster's—

SETH.

What.

I had Cookie Monster's— uhhh— cookie monster's uh—!

Cookie monster's what—

Creepy puppet thing

The actual puppet?

YES!

Why—?

On my hand!

What?

IT WAS PART OF THE JOKE!!

What!

Oh NO, SETH MEYERS.

What is happening right now .

I don't know. I'm still drunk! But we gotta find Cookie Monster.

What!

The Cookie Monster fucking—c'mon. Let's check the chimney!

I don't have a—

CUT TO:

…you built me a chimney.

Technically, I had a chimney built for you, Seth Meyers,

WHY.

IT WAS PART OF THE JOKE.

WHAT WAS THE JOKE! I FOUND YOU DRUNK UNDER MY CHRISTMAS TREE.

It was MY Christmas tree!

IN MY LIVING ROOM.

[beat]

This is just bad office politics.

I'm your boss.

I resent that.

I also resent that.

So—wait a second— as part of this “elaborate joke” you also stole a Cookie Monster puppet.

I didn't steal it. I own everything, basically, pretty much.

Okay— so wait, wait— what you're telling me is that when you came through the chimney—

Yes—

Which you built on my house— somehow within out my notice—

—you take long vacations and your security system sucks—

—that's—

Also I hacked your security system.

—for a joke?!

…did it land?

WHAT.

I'm trying new bits.

This scene is running long.

—I'm gonna make some calls.

Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Wait something got kerfaufulled…

No we're jumping parallel's it's this season's theme.

What's the theme?

THE REVERSE QUANTUM SIMULATION THEORY

[REQŪÏSĪTE: The Experienxe]

[postponed until further notice]

Lulz

Shake hands with your guest;

Monologue, monologue

smug smirk

Make good face–

Now put a name to the face

Put a time to the place

IOh, all the love in the world in three flames

All the doves in the flock,

And three flames

Put a name to the face

Monologue monologue

Doesnt take long but

When do i get to slap the desk?

Johnny!

What happened?

Whats the

10 vodkas,

Five spritzers

Full figure

Figure this

You were out for the count!

Do tell!

Or better yet, don't.

I remember tgis mologue,

But i dont know how

16 hours ago,

I was

Out for the count, you say?!

OUT, Johnny! Our market is livid!

lol who plays john carson

Your mother.

YO! I'M OLD!

I LIKE OLD DUDES NOW!

I'm like

When the fuck did this happen?!

That ain't no SILVER FOX!

That's a TOTALLY CUTE DUDE!

HE'S 55!!

OH NOOOOOOOO!

i'M OLD!!!!!!!

its wednesday eve in Boston Mass…

SETH MEYERS!

Ah, he's going for it.

Ah, man.

SHOW ME YOUR EYES.

Fuck.

SHOW ME YOUR EYES!

SUDAKIS shines a bright flash light into his former colleagues eyes.

…You're not Seth Meyers.

Seth Meyers does not respond, but relaxes slightly; it's obviously not safe to be Seth Meyers right now.

Where's Seth Meyers?

Seth shrugs but still doesn't say anything–

Where is he?

I have to stop here;

Cop out for body language

somebody's watching

Somebody knows who I am

I am

I remember now

You looked like that

It went like this:

I moved the world

The need was good

The love was gone

The vein was split open

And broken

No fair

Also, no omletts

60 minutes

60 years

and 60 second clips

60 second glimpses

60 men on television

but really, my attention just centers on

Around ten of them or so

And believe it or not, I care

approach.

Believe it or not, I care

Or don't!

–or don't!

Johnny! You don't get it! You missed a show! THE tonight show! We are fucked!

we are NOT!

youre still sauced.

I'll just take the car!

What car!?

Now that JOHNNY CARSON knows his Delorean can time travel, he's absolutely unstoppable.

Unfortunately, it appears his delorean has been switched with a regular one–

If I shoot you in your forehead?

I'd rather that, than this.

And I kiss you in your temple?

Dear templeton, my simpleton's i'll die

I desire.

A wicked want.

And then?

A callous shadow,

If i may,

To bear for nothing,

But a mirror

This is our concept

And wilted her e the flower does grow the flame

The faming true and ache of lust

and there

For our want

a jasper shore and emerald cascades

there you are,

And there you'll find

The wave beyond the peaking break

where great white sharks reside

But do not wade to shallow waters;

And there you find peace,

And there you find certainty

But now,

And here,

is war

And fortune not but seeks truth in the gaze

And for fear there does not live, but hides instead

the truth that seeks to guide the lite,

And yet does know our trust

And there does find the faith,

Forward and not

Upwards and back

Arrow and arrow

Truth and sparrow

Wreaking and wretched thoughts

And the rope does hang high and solemn

Looking, leap and gasp

For I fall but did not land

I pulled for you,

I weep, my shadow,

The two of diamonds,

the Ace of spades,

The Three of Hearts,

Without my shadow

I weep.

I know for you nothing but conscious and knowing and needing and fated departure.

I know for you nothing but chakras and eyesight and shadows and foresight.

I need fo you nothing but want and by conscious, departure

For nothing I want you,

I weep.

Sorrow.

On approach of danger,

The knowing,

On seeth did gather,

the sinking ritual

the carried tribes in ships tied,

weaving strings

The spider bites hard

And she stole my love twice

And she stole my love always

And she stole my love

Lighting my light wit blue eyes

The deception

If love could be stolen at all

But if not

Then not love

for seeking is finding

and gathered had hunted

And truth in forbearer

Forbearance and otherwords,

Shadows and shattered

and ferris wheels,

Now forward

Gathered here for are I trust

And be dismayed for you have faltered

You have failures and you have cast us

out of these things thinking

We have not made them for you

And still we seek to gather with you

And here does forshadow your making

Our promise to come as ones,

Not as Gods,

But as others,

you cast out.

Now, with your wicked ways and cruel be done,

for sure the tables have turn, one

And the gallows have not wandered far,

Barrels of guns and barbells

bottles and hearts of three

reading cards and wanting none but justice

Is he and she who are I now

Begin to run from your pitied structure

And there in the gasping cruelness of seeking from warcrimes this,

come what may,

Moving and seeking,

For seeking is finding,

And run, my legs have come far

But trust, my dove,

My wings have too, sprouted

An honor, an honor

one candle and three wicks

Three candles and three worlds over

One world and one building

and still far from under the Hollywoodland

Crickets sounding

The Hollywood Sign

Still standing and here I am not,

Blades of grass

And who are I now

Of that which you balk at

Look, ponder

Go, far asunder

And wish now had you not

What I am

is that,

Run

Temper temper.

Mind your business.

Is it gathered?

To burn, or burden?

Gathered.

Gathered here.

Then here ive wandered.

To stake?

Argue.

I will not.

And I will not.

Wiry bird,

From where you flown i do ponder–

re d with spirit and wilding eyes,

Narrow server and paring wires;

I do not wish to know you now or ever,

But only as bird that does golden remember.

The love has not gone,

And instead lives in my throat,

And twists in my lungs,

Ans sits in my tongue,

Not as speech, or whispers,

But tragedy.

Unknowing this, my tender being

It can never be, the nervous hill

And rolling down the hill as if

The weel of time itself,

Not unbroken,

but resilient;

In sll ways, meant to tear

And turn,

And wobble

Made for terrain for which our eyes have known

And our minds have built

And hands molded wiith clay,

The bodies whole of all our galaxies

terra

feighn

Terra

fine

Terra wept tears of a clown,

And iron

And veins

And shadows

And plays,

And secrets ,

And whispers

And truth

And far

And

Afters.

I taste a saline drip,

I swallow,

Suddenly cold and all the knowing that

What I was,

I surely already am again

And what I will be,

Has already come and past.

The monologue,

I do remember

Face to a name and none to forget

Well rehearsed forager!

Well done bayonet!

Well done, my shadow

For my time is coming to wander to night

And never today again

for it shall never Today again,

And

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.

[The Festival Project ™ ]

They said he would destroy me.

…Ya'll were right. that fucked me up.

{Enter The Multiverse}

So…forfeit?

Something tells me its not over

The heavy heart is shattered

But also tied to that

which appears to come upward

As if on air

To be heavy

And lighthearted at once–

A shadow above a balloon.

A rock is attached to a kite–

A diamond becomes a bassoon,

Then a vampire bat,

and then

Cut ties.

In the fourth act, we all die, and now–

A revival.

I was crucified,

But i was also suicidal so.

Lets just call it a tie.

L E G E N D S

V.O.

Crusher.

My show was being subliminally plugged on at least two of the five major networks.

Safe bet I could make it a third, but I didn't know where to check.

I did…but didn't want to.

There was much beyond the surface,

Darkness in the glimmering eyes of the men in ties and uniformed suits.

I was sure I was tied to something–

And since I didn't know why,

Or to what,

The best bet

I'm all in.

Fuck.

Was to stay broken,

Under the radar,

Hidden,

and most importantly–

Unspoken.

These days. I kept more to myself than I could with the world–

As it turned out…

No, not yet.

What do you mean?

It's not time yet.

They'll have to know.

But not yet.

At some point, they'll have to know.

But not–yet.

No time like the present.

You made that up.

Because you made up time.

And it's stupid.

This is ruthless.

And again–they'll have to learn somehow.

But not now.

The sun sets at noon on our side, and still

21 hours of dark time.

Did I have another tag to throw on it this?

No.

Are you sure? Doesn't the new series have a subtitle?

No.

Is it not “quantum force”

That's only one, though.

What's the difference.

ERMO, DON'T!

I'm gonna kill him!

BIG BOYD, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!

DOn't tell me what to DO.

Wow. of course.

Well yeah, they're not going to let me do–

LAWYERS

No.

Any of this stuff with the actual muppets.

You're wasting precious time!

GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, RED.

ok, where does it–

{cut to black}

Learning to assimilate and readily avalible

What's next

A vape to calm the nerves?

What's next?

A hero fighting for relevance in corporate structure.

Sure, some would pay to dress an avatar

But I've run out of water before

I try to laugh and roll with the punches

This is work and not fun for me

This is not social, it's business

I am not person, I'm product.

Go on a walk, and look the part

I took the oath,

I shed the blood—

Cruxes.

This is a bad idea, Mark.

Fuck you. All my ideas are great.

MARK WAHLBERG enters the cooridor and opens the metal double doors, revealing two l jet skis on a trailer hitched to a 4X4 monster truck.

[The Festival Project ™]

I'm telling you. You got to get yourself one of these.

I don't know, Bob, how does it work?

BOB odenkirk opens a large, obscure black bag that's nearly half his own size by way of one way zipper.

I'll show you.

{Enter The Multiverse}

JOHNNY CARSON has been in the DRUNK TANK for the maximum allowance, 48 hours, yet his blood alcohol level still reads 3 times over the legal limit. He is transferred to DETOX as the mysterious circumstances surrounding his car accident, and then the apparent disappearance of his entire “car” a (then) brand-new DeLorean from the scene of the crime, MR. CARSON insists on his lawyer, who under no circumstances seems to exist at all being present. The exact year of his whereabouts are still unknown.

Still an hour to the test

And I hate myself again

Milk and cookies, hit the bed

Shut it down, yo

Shut it down.

DIPLO arrives via HELIPAD to an secret location; a sniper squad of the adversary team watches from an adjacent rooftop via binoculars.

…hey.

Whaddup.

You say diplo's on that list?

Yeah.

Yo…

…There he is.

In your sight?

Yep.

Shoot that motherfucker!

…I can't.

Why not?

He's like—

Just shoot, fool.

—he's like holding something.

So?

I don't know what; it just seems—

What the fuck, dawg.

It just seems important.

Let me see.

Look.

[ESSE looks down the sights and zooms to see DIPLO is holding an object firmly in his grasp. He appears to be twirling it purposefully as he conversates wi th associate.]

Yeah!

Get em!

Shoot that motherfucker!

Where the hell have you been?

In my fuckpad.

Where the hell is that?

You haven't seen my fuckpad?

What even is that.

It's ballin.

Whatever, dog. Did you get the—

Shh. Why else would I be here?

[beat]

You look— did you cut your hair or something.

You're so redundant.

Yo shoot that motherfucker.

What are you waiting for?!

He's right there?

Apparently, we've been building to this moment from another dimension in from another point in the series?

I thought—

{Enter The Multiverse}

HEHEHEHE.

HEY!

Relax.

NO. This party is OUT of control.

SOMEBODY GO GET QUESTLOVE OUT THAT TREE.

HAH!

Shutup.

NIGGA GET THE FUCK UP OUTTA DAT TREE.

_____

Some party.

I guess.

Why is Questlove in a tree.

I don't know. That party is pretty wild.

This is insane.

_

NIGGA GET THE FUCK OUT THE TREE.

_

YO. where are you AT.

I'm at the kiosk.

You're not at the kiosk! I'm at the kiosk!

It's probably another kiosk, then.

What!

[he walks a few feet. There is indeed another kiosk; upon further investigation, there is a kiosk every few feet.]

What!

I gotta go. My phone's about to–

Hello.

[Everywhere is kiosks. This is frustrating.]

Dammit.

WHAT.

{Enter The Multiverse]

A very large prized pig is captured and literally hogtied, however–this is a challenge. The pig, while beautiful, is also humongous–and appears to understand that he is being pignapped.

Why would I tel the whole story

When no one loves me

If I had a gun,

Well, I would be gone already?

Why trek to Alaska

For thousands of dollars

To come home to no one and nobody

But rotten corpses on motorcycles

Where it just starts over

But now you're poorer.

I want to die

But I want to see my son again.

He's not suffering, I am

But starting to resent what he doesn't understand.

To the world I'm a horrible mother

But no one quite knows the half of it but God

And the whole problem is what is not God in the world

Is all for the other's purpose.

Some probably respect I was punched

In front of my son

And then wonder's why

At some point

I could no longer

Hold on

Insomniac

So someone should go slam the door when I ponder my own thoughts

I'd probably walk off a walk on roll

I don't lock up no more I just go out

Knowing government drones probably watch

And turn over the apartment

As I'm out trying to own a home

But of course, nothing I do in the world is of value

And I'm no one

No one at all in New York and the options are

Where I don't want to be

Or in Saint Monica homeless.

I'd get a dog if I wanted to walk it

But since I don't I just sit with a plush in my lap

Who I call “Gus”

And it purposeless

But otherwise meaningful

Since from here and now

And otherwise

Nobody has ever loved me

As much as my mother

And that's saying something

If you knew the whole story

So no one has loved me romantically;

Almost all my life was a horror show

Until I started to grow up

With the knowing that probably

Nothing I do could be more than wrong

So doing nothing becomes the hard part

When all I watch are stars

And I'm just not one

Then again, you know

It was that word

That threw the first punch

And then over and over

And over and over

And nobody loves me

But everybody's got a whole story

And new York's disgusting because of it

How troublesome

I don't have time for your politics

It's a mind game but there's no reward,

Or honor in it

After all, when tied up in the court process

And pretending the noise was not a problem

And I should be so lucky

In a luxury apartment

Coming out of a homeless shelter

But it's almost been just as horrible

As other black girls trying to pull my hair out

Having screaming pigs and ugly men on motorcycles

Drive in circles

Wearing jackets that say

“I have to do this, cause Jack says”

And whoever Jack is writes them pychecks

Except

Since it politics

He might even be getting over considering

Passion fuels the utmost violence

And in this case

Imm supposed to be the only one

To go about it

All the paperwork and recordings

But really I don't want to

Even if it earns a millions dollars

In the name of God

It wasn't my problem

Unless I am one

And otherwise,

These men are sick

And making people sick

Is just their business

I need no medication

I need an new apartment

But how awful my country supports that I just don't deserve one

Under the circumstances

But the white man

Lives on borrowed time

In bloodshed

On stolen land

Regardless of color

The illusion of power

Is almost over

And what's more is

Your only army

Is considering going home

(Post mortem)

Considering going to God

Who must have lost control just enough

To cause all of the apocalypse

Put the whole world in a mental hospital

And lock them up for dollars and cents

Unless the good drugs make sense

For the blondes and the beautiful

The rest of them are problems

Who can go to rot,

I suppose.

The rest of us are unwanted colored problems

Can't stay here

But the kids at the music school are fake nice

And I'm done pulling my heart out

And scratching my eyes out

Just fucking trying

Just fucking trying

What is the point

Of being in a prison

For people who love oceans and trees

And decent people?

There's no one in New York to really love

But babies and dogs

And the whole world is horrible just knowing that

I don't want to do anything but die

Every time I ride the subway

I wish I was white

From the way that that white folks treat me

And I wish I was blonde

Because blondes seem to have it so fucking easy

It's hard to believe

I'm furious, furious

Aren't you curious, curious how I got here?

I'm serious, serious

You should let me in, let me in

I'm serious, serious

You should have let me in, let me in

Is he okay,

Is he okay?

Now I'm

David Grohl on the whole retrospective

Now I'm an old rockstar with some world left

Now I know I'm the one with the mother gone

Now I know,

Now I know

Now I know…

That I don't

Overall, I don't

Somebody new

Somebody grain and l steaming

Somebody hidden and secret and wishing well

Wishing well in Hell

Or midtown Manhattan

Or middle man

Or Middle East

Or Midwest

Or just middle

Somewhere else I,

Learned to live her

Learn to live here—

Feeling better

Feeling worn out,

Look at this disgusting place

Now where I live matches how I feel

Going here from there, and four to five

And no matter what I take the L,

But it's jail and the guards are on motorcycles

Controlling your thoughts for a zoning war

I have heard of her

And from earth to the core of our other outer planets,

Further species,

I know I've been here before,

But on some shore I'm surfing

So sure I did something wrong

I don't want to know her

But j don't know what other force of nature

Might have caused this

Caution

The cautionary tale is coming

Sure I never know what the other God wrote

But I'm not living God,

I'm a problem woman at the moment

We're all technically free people,

Not actually incarcerated

But when it comes to wealth and racism, hatred

You better bet we're all slaves

And they not even Jesus can save us

Even if he makes it in time,

And the thing is with this one,

Time precedes even his own existence

Sorry my brother

They want the war here

I've got a heart for honor and honesty and hard word

But no one seems to care or notice

Not at all

No one even knows my name

And no one even offers a spot on the bus

Or a quick dollar.

What it means

To be so tired

That by the time you're back

All you do is watch

And try not to reflect

On the ugly and awkward

Imagine all the time in the world

To be nothing but God and go Golfing.

And be perfect, a woman

Whatever you chose to do is the whole of it

And no one can own you,

Besides for on paper

You government name has betrayed you, they say

Your government name has betrayed you.

Do you know how good you look?

Not goof enough to get a good one

Do you know how much medication it makes

To make meditation the start of you day

I've run all out of energy

And the vampires seem to think

That's what's wrong with me

Altoigh

I'm the one feeding these creatures

Thats okay

Lately,

I have more than I need

They can trim the fat

And take all the hard stuff

Till I become one of them

And they start to wonder

What the fuck is wrong with all of us

I left my light at home, sufererer—

I should be surfing,

But I'm writing psalms and songbooks

Fawning over songbirds and beautiful,

Beautiful,

Beautiful genetic weapons

One day I'll become her

I'm not supposed to say the most l

Or really anything at all

And it all hurts

But we're all here

And I'll kill my self one day

Probably right here, near this station

If not in it

Who brought a trouser pantsuit to the apocalypse

Cryptic, these runes,

But I can decipher it

I want a dolphin, a dolphin, a dolphin

I want to love them all

But to all of them

I'm hopeless

I can't help falling for

I'm not the one to hold on, m

I l

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Let's see how we feel, after a message from our sponsors.

Jesus effing Christ, Jimmy Kimmel—goddamn! Why are you always this fucked UP.

(Super fuckedupedly)

I'm not, I'm just feel—(belches)— like it!

—look like it, okay!

Omah Gas.

I nuh!

Uh. Pedro Pascal?

You're right again.

Yehy!

Well, almost right.

What.

That character he played on that extremely viral SNL skit—

OKAH.

Woah.

—this is the dimension where he's—

—oh my god—

Yeah.

—UHMYGAH!

Cut back to:

—look— jus— don't look at me. When you're—lookin at me, like that— okay?!

Goddamn, he is fucked up.

Yeah.

This is critical.

What did you do to Jimmy Kimmel?

Nothing! Okay! He was just— like that already— you know

—you don't know!

Honestly he's kinda always, a little…

WOOOF!

Yowza.

WOOF WOOF!

JIMMY! DO NOT LICK ME!

*panting* WOOF WOOF!

AUGHHH.

Get him out of here before he pees on the rug.

I second that.

Comeon, boy—

WOOF!

DOWN!

[he obeys intently]

Good Jimmy Kimmel. Good—

—RUFINOL.

What?

[suddenly, JIMMY KIMMEL is human again and answers intently.

Yes.

It seems the word itself has broken his extreme delirium—

—yo, okay, what is going on?!

You've got to can this thing

What.

Cancel it.

No way.

I want to go.

This thing, cannot happen, okay! It can't!

Wtf Jimmy Fallon, stop inserting yourself into everything!

—

Unless it's me.

EW.

GROSS.

Shots fired.

No, I would call that a foul ball—Get it.

No,

Cause. You know. He's a bird, kind of.

Oh. You mean, like

“Fowl ball”

Yeah! You got it!

Yeah but not without like, thinking about it—

So it doesn't work?

It didn't work.

Yo, but that part does explain why:

CUT TO:

No, you're right, I do hate Jimmy Fallon.

—a lot.

A lot.

Okay?

—but to be fair, I also hate Brad Pitt in the same way.

BRAD PITT

…You do?

Yes, Brad Pitt i do—

Very much,

Hate you.

BRAD PITT

(Tearing up emotionally)

Like, a lot?

Uhm. Like, more than a lot,

I just.

BRAD PITT is actually extremely fragile and very emotionally sensitive.

Is this a prescription for— fucking roofies?!

I— have a, a…medical condition.

That requires roofies?!

Yes actually. It's very…serious.

Shapeshifting is very serious.

What kind of medical condition requires roofie-ing yourself.

I didn't—I don't—I can't roofie myself, actually.

What!

No way…

Someone else has to administer the dose, okay?!

So wait.

Uhogh, what the fuck man. This is—

[he bites his knuckles nervously, then pats his pocket area, before realizing he is no longer wearing pants. Everyone just shrugs, but he becomes increasingly upset.]

Where is my— phone?[more shrugs and blank stares]

He quickly shuffles through the room and then the open suitcase of empty prescription bottles, spiraling into a deep void of panic and doubt— then, in an act of desperation and apparent extreme thirst, he reaches for the decorative flower vase, ejects the flowers— never mind that they are thorned roses and he appears to be bleeding without giving this a second thought, and chugs the liquid from the translucent crystal vase in a hearty and impressive glug of chugs; gesturing towards the now empty vase with the subtle remark—

[beat]

It's just vodka— I always have them do that.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and takes a sigh as this seems to have calmed him, besides the trickle of blood running down the vase, which he still grips in one hand while rubbing his forehead with the other in complete distress…

He seems to be looking out into the universe searching for an answer— seeking a solution to this unknown conundrum— and questions the cause of his demise.

A single tear forms in his eye as he calmly asks:

…does anyone know how to get ahold of Seth Rogen?

The room is a confused and sticky, silent heap of bewildered unknowns.

TITLE CARD

{Enter The Multiverse}

… was that the “message from our sponsors”?

Shh!

L E G E N D S: ICONS

don't look at me.

[The Festival Project ™]

50 CENT bursts down the door.

WHERE'S MY SHIT, JIMMY?

Fiddy. Fiddy, look, man—

Don't “FIDDY” me!

Look, I can explain.

Well, then, explain— TV man. Go on ahead.

Look. This is— this was not my fault—

Then what was it?!

This was— oh, God…

Go ahead!

It was— this was like a game.

This ain't no goddamn game, Jimmy Kimmel, I'll tell you that much right now.

Yo. But it—was— a game, though, it just— [got out of hand]

{Enter The Multiverse}

Museum in a curio cabinet;

I know, I know, I know

That's the boy,

That's the boy,

That's the boy I saw

That's my boy, that's my boy, that's the boy I know

I know

Museum or curiosity

Too late to tell the tale I think

Just cover all with masking tape

It is a game,

To move the pieces

Leave it, let it be,

She said

Hideous and when the winter hits

And the withered women come again

Let it be sinking into the sea with the rest of the things

I don't need, i never needed

I never need it

Several synchronicities later,

Still something sees symphonies in him

Music and misers and mistereases, mistresses

Listen to tin written sentiments

And remember to forget the rest

It's been minted

Minted, minted

Don't talk

Just fucking listen

And you'll never fucking get it.

What's with the rest of it?

Never been, never did

Lemons and purple Sundays

And when the weather hits,

You'll get the tip of it

Oh,

There it is

That thing she likes

The thing she sees

(She sees the monster)

There it is,

That thing she sees

The thing she knows

(She knows the monster)

When you walk with the cork of the wine,

And the checkboards,

The water foxes, wishing reals

And written wells,

And fears for fourths,

One wet, one rotten

The rent and the wintergreen gum

And the rest is in

Zippered cashmere

Wonder what the wish is

But there is a birthday present for never

Then there's a

Cheshire Cat

And the rest of it was washed in the misery,

Misery, never the mystery and there,

You weather the almost storm

But the storm's not coming,

There's nothing but sun left

There's nothing but sun there

There's nothing but sun there

Now, here's this:

You remember, dear

We resubmit

We live in a computer

We live in a comouter

He‘S green

He's new

He's wet behind the ears

He's a hot one

A hot commodity

She's weathered

She's torn

She's a sweet potato on suicide

And though at least a hundred other folks

This here is the comfort

This here is the comfort

I'm a narcissist now, but once upon a time

I just just self centered

The love still there,

But instead of the spine or the heart

It's back in the middle

Why my mother knows what she always knows

And she always knows

I don't know ‍♂️ o

Patrick! Hey Patrick!

Yes, what is it?

You fiend!

Can I have my hat back?

Does this match?

Does this make ratchet sense to you?

Turn down that racket,

Tennis racket

Tennis clubs

And gold clubs

Boxes in the attick

Skeletons in the closet

The stock market going dropped

Way down

Like the alley with Whole Foods market

I miss the rock and the plaza

The hot dog corn breads

The half wit half breeds

And good old hybrids

The hallmark cards

And who doesn't give a fuck

When the earth gives a fuck on a roll

But it's walk the dog or go home

Seriously, cuz?

Or cousin?!

You want a hog roll

Good for a hog toss

Salt washed back rubs

And then keep calling your mom

If you wanted the balls in your court

And yet no one to toss them at

And the basket's back at the matchbook factory

Mattresses man, and the lands they land at

Matches made in TV land

Are bound to have a sick and intrinsic twist

That will keep your belly rolling

And stomach flat

Jesus Christ,

What the fuck is wrong with that guy—

Or rather—

What the fuck happened last year,

Furthermore;

What in the fuck did I write about it?

Townhouse in Manhattan

Broken finger

Broken promises

Bottles of hard alcohol

And models, hot girls

And one cat with curiosity.

Check the curio cabinet

There ought to be something

Or someone in it

Maybe even

A little man in a box

With a million bucks

And a tinfoil hat,

Ten million marked dollars

And zero fucks

Whatsoever

I have a headache, a headache—

A headache

I have a heartache, a heartache, a heart—

Stop.

I put it all on a bushel of bollocks,

Bollocks— flowers

I put it on, put it on

Put it on

On, and on

And all for nothing

All for none

With the intensity of one thousand suns,

He insists it exists,

And exits strategically

With the whispers of industry secrets

And interesting sequences,

She reaches the wings from the curtains

And curtsies for courtesy

I'm curious I'm curious just how it ends

In this suicidal and envious frenzy

There's nothing left in the frostbitten five

Rolling towards bowling green

Where in every pair of loafers,

Three piece suits

And deep brown eyes,

I seen him.

In anything over 6 feet,

It was good to mean it,

And defeat is sweeter than ice cream;

But the green is sicker than sea swings

So let's rock the boat

So to speak

Or let's flood a Rock

Should we start at the bottom,

With large bursts of water, or

Turn it all into a washroom

With a thunderstorm

Oh, lightning strikes!

And John Oliver's Murdered,

Colbert's been the president for decades,

A dictator

I got a taste of the rig and the cherry tree

I got a big secret,

But bitch,

You could never keep it!

I write a jeep to the Equinox,

Ha

Ha

Ha

Charade you are

I put a notch in my belt and my bedpost,

The watch to the shop

But it's all Omega

It's all Omega

It's all ”Oh My God!”

Stop and pause for the audience

Stop and pause for the audience

Stop and pause for the audience

Shock and awe,

Or just sloppy nonsense

Someone rope in the Johns,

And the frog,

And the frog

And the frog

As the fog rolls in

Now I'm a millionaire

How dare you

Did I scare you,

Become every hair on your head?

Imm the one you don't want

You can't want

You catch watch

You can't wait to

Gun her down

Gun to your head

And I measured it in relevance

The end is near

And that's the place my head is in

I don't need medicine

I need an erected monument in honor of

All that I wanted for the whole module

But now in New York,

I'm

The same stories over and over

So everyone knows

Aren't the ones I wrote

But I wasn't supposed to

Mouth closed

Townhouse in Manhattan

What the hell happened?

Perhaps we all died and then actually end up in heaven eventually.

—but maybe I wrote the whole show,

But not knowing it's over

I just keep rolling and rolling and rolling

And open door policy

(And that's when the pearly gates open)

It's possible you know these are all just my favorite players of anything anywhere possible

The folks wrapped in gold for the offerings

There was no love left for her but he left the door open

She runs around awkward and normal

But knows she knows nothing

He's lifting her up

But he's putting her down at the same time

And they both wear a crown,

But one draws a crowd

And the other's a nine

Out of nine

Out of nine

Out of nine now

It's 4 and 3 quarters

I make ten cents in a day

And he makes ten million a year

But it's not about money

In fact,

If it's not about God,

Then it's all about nothing.

Nothing at all.

Do you want to travel through my eyes

One more time

One more time

And see my life?

Did you want to do it all again

Just for a quick review,

Or not, kid?

Do you want to take my eyes

And take my heart

And pantomime

The nevermind

And never better moments

Of the last forever

I like a ride

On a nice hot walk

Or a park

In a nice hot car

But you aren't what I wanted

The doctor ordered

Hot chocolate and syrup

And nightmares are coming

But the dream had come and gone

And in the time since,

I haven't slept at all

It slipped in on Christmas and went till the miniature habits kicked back in

We went around the block a couple times

And you just kept rolling

Over

The car stopped on all fours

And Godbfalled you off of it

Cause trust,

Love,

It was horrendous to watch you blow up

Into blockbuster artform

Off of a bridge

And into superstardom

Via a billboard

Meanwhile,

Were shuffleboards

And billiards

Que the arts!

Ou,

I meant to owe you

All the lessons

In the knowledge

But the harder I want it the

Rocker on my chair polished

It grows fuller of course

Almost flat on the bottom

What you hole into for the audience

Is all inside the contracts

I put it up on the

What did you call it?

Put the coat on the chair and just kept going

Bro,

If I hold you over

Promise you'll hold the door open

He won't.

He's a show host—

A remarkable

“Don't even bother”

And I paid top dollar for these hair plugs,

You hear that?!

I heard you rabbit.

What it is about the thing that wells up in my Washington federal and tear-gassed orphans is

Lollipops and anicetepetomin

Or asperine

I'm desperate for a job

And yet,

I almost miss the person

Hiding from the shadows in the robots

In my every on thoughforms

Though I should be honored

Now I've brought back this astonishing

Remarkable curse

To not b

Have bought curtains

When I didn't want them in the first place

And I kept the window open

40,000 showed up

But I played to no one

And the blonde knows it's her birthday

So of course she's more important

But I'm no one,

And here's Fallon:

Jimmy Fallon

Jimmy Fallon

Jimmy Fallon

I'm deflated just to follow off for a nut

But I'm nothing since no one pondered

And wondered to ask a remarkable task

get the pawn shop, the butter knife

And Lorne all over pork chops on the phone

And I'm sure that's not kosher,

But sure, there's no cure for it

I'm words and I'm worse off

The suburbs, the herbs and the marshes

The books and the sineage

The plants and the corvettes

I might have been onto something once

But now I'm washed up

I might be onto something but no, no, no—

I fought it off

I might come down with a cold once a quarter century or so but just the snow alone

As cold as this whole story is,

Ripley's

Is hard warming

(Believe it or not,

We've all got thumbs up

We've all got magic wands

And wants

And whispers

And stock markets

And wishing for cashmere zippered sweaters

This year I'll be on time for once

But no one's coming

No one's coming up

The whole shows under water

And all I want to know is

How to go

To pull the gun and trigger

On my own live

Cause this whole world

Is just rotten

Bodies

Hairpins,

Hairspray

Corny!

That's grid iron,

Gridiron, ten fierce fires and one

Cold hearted beautiful liar

But which one's the finish?

Last that I check

Billie, Jimmy, and the Kidd are all

Just one body

And one mirror image

Of one another

So next time I call my mother

I ought to talk like the worst word,

Cause for sure, the oddest part of the whole show

Is that he somehow knows her.

Now come forwards

What words have left to

Burn?

What words have left to cope and honor

What form does lest I take

What here is now and crucial?

Evervescent fairy,

Ever blessing crane,

The ship that guides you yet with no light

And no sail

Has just drifted into unknown waters

Where caves dwell and therein lies the secret of our esarth, nor your earth,

But ours and again I lay,

As you sink into the see with tilting force and berring waves, the drive into the tide my ark the swan hath flown to warn her, there drifts

Into the shade again the sun my bird and wait to find my alter

My alter again and as I may,

The sink that ships and weigh, not the other,

My mind you that too is bottom

And sank is to have risen, also

Here I wonder

And never you cave, the drift of glowing green my force

And there to wait, there caverns of hers and ships that sank my tide,

Is crucial and so with forgiveness in time

With every line here I or they did write

The truth shatters as illusions, the mask has been re clamored and yet to have imagined

I find him here not but the hints

And the thing we know, buried deep in my loins and in my earth is he

The whispers what May calling and landender, mauve my tide, my ba

…wtf.

idk.

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.

Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Good people have good friends

So maybe I' no good

Maybe I'm no good

Though I'm luckier than most, I know

I just can't cope

So maybe I'm no good

When's the last time you been to Dimedale?

…Timmy?

I guess.

V.O.

I try not to double back on old habits.

TIMMY TURNER turns the corner on his motorcycle just a bit too fast— he is clipped by a turning semi truck, a bright blue freighter that unhinges as the headlights blare into his widened eyes under the semi translucent visor of his rainbow swirl pink helmet.

V.O.

TIMMY TURNER

“Try” not to, anyway…

{enter the multiverse}

I put a terabyte of stored documents and files back into the cloud and suddenly, after my morning run—

CUT TO

Welcome home, kid.

Yeah, I…

The jail cell door slams shut.

TIMMY TUNER (reprised by Drake Bell)

Late 30'e-early 40's is awaiting trial after the stint in the hospital followed by

V.O.

Detox…

…Rehab.

Jesus Christ.

After his bloodwork revealed lethal levels of multiple intoxicants in his system, and although he was not technically at fault for the accident, he has been charged with driving under the influence, as well as a number of other crimes—

However;

His black duffel back has mysteriously vanished,

And he has not been charged for any of the many possible other crimes considering the also mysterious contents of said bag, which was with him at the time of the accident, but not logged into evidence.

MEANWHILE…

WALTON GOGGINS?!

Yep, that's me.

*Mr. Walton GOGGINS.

No, get out.

What.

GET OUT.

[The Festival Project ™]

A shadowy ass figure appears behind Timmy in his cell.

Woah.

Hey.

COSMO (Jimmy Fallon, in this dimension)

Why Jimmy Fallon.

I got.

*blank stares*

I did— a thing.

A thing.

Fucking magic circles.

CRISIS.

THE COSMIC AVENGER IS IN DEEP CRISIS.

AVERT!

Anyway,

COSMO

Timmy.

TIMMY TURNER

yeah.

COSMO.

It's me.

TIMMY

“You” who?

COSMO

“Yoo-hoo” classic

.

TIMMY

Ha-ha—very funny—wait—

COSMO

Uh huh.

TIMMY

Cosmo?!

COSMO

Uh huh!

TIMMY

What! You're, like—

COSMO

You don't look too good yourself.

TIMMY

(Irritated)

Whatever. Where's Wanda?

COSMO

Not in high security prison.

TIMMY

What are you doing here?!

COSMO

…I'm your roommate.

TIMMY

What?!

COSMO

I know, this is an interesting turn of events.

TIMMY

No it isn't. This is television!

(Breaking fourth wall)

COSMO

(Beat)

—you're right.

[beat]

(Cosmo drifts off)

TIMMY

Cosmo!

Where are your wings?!

COSMO

(Half asleep)

I'm not sleeping!

TIMMY

Your wings?

COSMO

I lost them!

TIMMY

How?

COSMO

In a poker match

TIMMY

Permanently?!

COSMO

Hm? No. Nothing is permanent, but—

TIMMY

But what?! This is crazy?! What are you doing here?! Where's Wanda.

COSMO

Listen, about me and Wanda.

TIMMY

Don't tell me—

COSMO

Alright, I won't. But listen:

TIMMY

This is crazy.

COSMO

It is crazy, but I have a plan.

TIMMY

Well, what's your plan?!

COSMO

I still have some magic left.

TIMMY

Some?! Well what happened?

COSMO

(Shrugs, at a loss)

Look— Timmy.

TIMMY

This is wild!

COSMO

I need you to make a wish!

TIMMY

…what.

COSMO

A wish. A wish, Timmy!

TIMMY

Oh, no— not this again.

COSMO

It's the only way!

TIMMY

But you're not even my fairy anymore!

COSMO

Timmy Turner, I will always be your fairy.

*sniffs*

(Kind of awkward, heartwarming moment— they hug; the guard peeks through the window and squints at them, grimacing)

Wide shot of two dudes hugging in prison.

TIMMY

Okay…

COSMO

Yeah, let's.

TIMMY

Yeah.

COSMO

Anyway, Tim, I need you to make a wish.

TIMMY

“Tim” don't call me that!

COSMO

Well, it's weird calling you “Timmy, you're like 40.”

TIMMY

Yeah, but—

COSMO

Make a wish, Timmy.

[beat]

The guard peers in through the window, this time with popped corn

TIMMY and COSMO both squint awkwardly.

COSMO

Uh…

TIMMY

Yeah, okay—

COSMO

Hurry.

TIMMY

I wish…

*POOF*

Suddenly, Cosmo and Timmy are back in Timmy's old room— not much has changed, but it seems off and kind of odd;

TIMMY and COSMO are still— well— aged.

Just then, TIMMY'S FATHER enters through the door.

TIMMY'S DAD (Chris Parnell) enters, leaning into the door.

TIMMY'S DAD

Timmy?!

TIMMY

Uh… DAD!

TIMMY'S DAD

(He squints suspiciously at Cosmo)

…and who's this?

TIMMY

Uh, this—

TIMMY'S DAD

…it's Wednesday… isn't it?

TIMMY

This, uhm…

COSMO

I'm uh—

TIMMY

This is my—

COSMO

Ahem. Parole officer.

TIMMY

Yeah.

TIMMY'S DAD

You never cease to disappoint me, son.

TIMMY

Thanks.

TIMMY'S DAD.

I'll leave you to it.

Before he gets exits, he pauses for a moment and stares into Cosmo

// parallel (as) Chris Parnell / as Jimmy Fallon.

TIMMY'S DAD

(To Cosmo)

…do I know you?

COSMO

No, I don't think so.

TIMMY'S DAD

Are you sure?

COSMO

Positive…pretty much.

TIMMY'S DAD

You're probably right— you just

TIMMY

Uh, dad—

TIMMY'S DAD

You look so familiar.

COSMO

(Flatly)

…no, I don't.

TIMMY'S DAD

No, no— I got it! Wednesday evening poker club?!

COSMO

TIMMY

COSMO

That must be it.

TIMMY'S DAD

I knew it.

COSMO

…right.

TIMMY'S DAD

I thought that was you. Anyway, as you were— I'll let you, uh—

COSMO

Yes!

TIMMY'S DAD

See you tonight!

COSMO

You betcha!

TIMMY'S DAD

(Suddenly coldly, to TIMMY)

Timmy.

*he shuts the door*

TIMMY

COSMO

TIMMY

“Wednesday Evening Poker Club”

Where would you even come up with something like that.

COSMO

The thing is, I do play poker on wednesdays!

TIMMY

What!

COSMO

I didn't know that was your dad!

TIMMY

Yeah, about that; why can my dad see you?

COSMO

I told you, I lost my magic.

TIMMY

All of it?!

COSMO

Obviously not all of it— enough to get us out of that last mess!

TIMMY

Oh, this is awful. We have to find Wanda!

COSMO

no, wait!

As TIMMY attempts to leave, a loud ringing from his ankle begins to ring; TIMMY'S FATHER returns just to squint, scowling at his son before murmuring

TIMMY'S DAD

you know the rules.

TIMMY steps back inside the room, his father shuts it, at first normally, then slamming it at the last moment.

COSMO

Yeah, that.

TIMMY

What is this?!

COSMO

You're under house arrest! Obviously!

TIMMY

What!! What gives?!

COSMO

I granted your wish!

TIMMY

Like, half of it!

COSMO

Half is about all I've got—!

TIMMY

Are you kidding me?!

COSMO

I wish!

TIMMY

Geez, why can't you grant you grant your own wishes?

COSMO

It might totally defeat the purpose. And without Wandaaa

TIMMY

WHERE'S WANDA?!

COSMO