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It's an adventure in time and space as The Hill Is Always Greener finally gets a chance to read the seminal classic novel, Sonic the Hedgehog in the Fourth Dimension. The second of the Martin Adams books, it sees Sonic and Tails sent back and forth through time on a quest to save planet Mobius, and perhaps the universe itself, from not only the machinations of Dr. Robotnik, but from forces outside of time and space as we know them. Does this chronicle of corrupted chronology stand up to the test of time, or is it best left in the past? It's time to activate our Mark-0 Gauss-Coyne prototypes and find out! (0:00:00) Intro/Main topic: Sonic in the Fourth Dimension (0:15:26) The Sonic Story So Far/Prologue (0:17:55) Chapter 1: Baffled, Bothered, and Befuddled (0:35:49) Chapter 2: Yesterday Is Here Again (0:45:56) Chapter 3: Judgement Of The Science Dudes (0:52:47) Chapter 4: Arrival On - Where? (0:58:29) Chapter 5: Meister Blaster (1:05:05) Chapter 6: Everybody Needs A Mum (1:12:10) Chapter 7: Some Historical-Type Explaining (1:20:50) Chapter 8: When Are We Now? (1:25:03) Chapter 9: As Sure As Eggs Is Eggs (1:29:17) Chapter 10: Luck Of The Hedgehog (1:38:07) Chapter 11: Larceny Most Foul (1:44:10) Chapter 12: Infinity Is Nice, But I Wouldn't Want To Live There (1:53:35) Chapter 13: Sonics (Again) (2:16:30) Epilogue (2:20:00) Final thoughts (2:28:15) Outro Amie Waters on Linktree Sonic the Comic the Podcast STCTP interview with "Martin Adams"
Moody Movies: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem (2023), Heretic (2024), It Might Get Loud (2008), Wildhood (2021).Welcome back to Moody Movie Club! In this episode, Kylie and Elliott say "cowabunga" while envying animated pizza, acknowledge that they'll see almost any movie if invited by a pal, revisit the movie that almost broke them up fifteen years ago, and fall in love with a "Kylie-coded" movie. Follow along onInstagram: @moodymovie.clubLetterboxd: kylieburton Letterboxd: ElliottKuss Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.
Come to a Dehoarding Accountability Zoom Session: http://www.overcomecompulsivehoarding.co.uk/ticket Subscribe to the podcast: https://www.overcomecompulsivehoarding.co.uk/subscribe Podcast show notes, links and transcript: http://www.overcomecompulsivehoarding.co.uk/ In today's episode, I chat with Jo Cavalot, a compassionate inquiry practitioner and coach, about tackling executive dysfunction through a unique concept called "fibble", designed to help those struggling with focus and organisation. Jo shares her insights into treating internal parts with kindness, her own journey of recovery, and how she co-created Fibble as a tool to understand and manage executive function challenges. We explore the importance of personalised support in overcoming obstacles, and Jo offers a special discount for listeners interested in her work. Importance of a compassionate approach Internal family systems and parts work. Viewing internal parts as friends with individual needs. Differentiating exploratory sessions from physical organisation tasks. Executive Dysfunction and 'Fibble' Concept Challenges of executive dysfunction, specifically among people who hoard. Use of the 'fibble' acronym: Frustrated, Inadequate, Baffled, Befuddled, Lacking, and Exhausted. Fibble as a practical tool Jo Cavalot's experience with alcoholism Parallel between Jo's alcohol experience and hoarding. Emotional challenges and non-linear nature of recovery. Emphasis on self-awareness and self-compassion. Jo's significant life changes, like moving to Spain and involvement in the Camino de Santiago. Motivation through personal recovery and organisational skills. Involvement and motivation in Hoarding Disorders UK. Compassionate Inquiry, Based on Dr. Gabor Mate's work, focusing on trauma's impact. Positive impacts on clients with hoarding behaviours and related trauma. Key Challenges and Strengths in Addressing Organisation Common challenges: sustained attention, organisation, self-activation, planning, and prioritising. Creative problem-solving as a strength. Flexible thinking and stress tolerance. Use of a questionnaire assessing executive functioning across environments. Understanding and leveraging diverse personal strengths. Varying self-activation for personal vs. others' tasks. Goal Setting and Personalisation Personalised tools over generic advice. Introduction of the Ikigai concept in goal setting. Use of the fibble questionnaire for personal assessment and support. Understanding and Addressing Underlying Causes Identifying trauma responses and underlying causes. Adjusting expectations based on life circumstances. Holistic and trauma-informed support for personal challenges.
The Alan Cox Show
The Alan Cox Show
The Re-Slayers head to a small Zemnian town after hearing of a ghostly presence. When they arrive, they discover that the city's previous champions have met an eerie fate, shrouded in a chilling curse that now threatens the Re-Slayers themselves. The Re-Slayers Take is the story of six misfit mercenaries that are rejected from the elite monster hunting group, The Slayer's Take who band together, forming the second-coolest monster hunting group; The Re-Slayers Take battling supernatural creatures across the rugged continent of Issylra. Listen to new episodes of The Re-Slayer's Take every Monday anywhere you stream podcasts! Listen to this audio adventure two weeks early and uninterrupted by ads with Beacon! Sign up for a Beacon Membership today at https://beacon.tv/join! Game Masters: Nick Williams and George Primavera Cast Members Jasmine Bhullar, Caroline Lux, Jasmine Chiong Created by Nick Williams & George Primavera Produced by George Primavera, Nick Williams, and Kirby Winslow Logo Art by Jordyn Torrence Character Art by Elaine Tipping || https://elainetipping.com/ || @TriaElf9 (Twitter) || @triaelf9 (Instagram) “80s” Theme Song by Chill Carrier Additional Music by Zach Carlson “Famous Friend” || @famousfriend (Instagram) Norbert Klott by Xander Jeanneret (Guest Character) Various NPCs by Nick Williams and George Primavera Learn more about Hero Club: https://heroclubpodcast.com/ Follow us! Website: https://www.critrole.com Newsletter: https://critrole.com/newsletter Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/criticalrole Twitter: https://twitter.com/criticalrole Instagram: https://instagram.com/critical_role TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@criticalrole Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/criticalrole Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Join Mike and Glenn as they drift from confused to confident. In this one-on-one coffee, they discuss how the tapestry looks from both sides.
Tim and Brady meet in person. They discuss people with two jobs, Tim's modelling opportunity, indifference, the inability to make things work, the Viper Room, toilet humour, fan theories, and a listener-created prize hamper.More chat in the Request ‘Viper' Room, including a discussion of religious differences - https://www.patreon.com/posts/110884533Support us on Patreon - https://www.patreon.com/unmadeFMJoin the discussion of this episode on our subreddit - https://www.reddit.com/r/Unmade_Podcast/Catch the podcast on YouTube where we often include accompanying videos and pictures - https://www.youtube.com/@unmadepodcastUSEFUL LINKSThat Summer (song) - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/That_Summer_(song)Money for Nothing lyrics - https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/direstraits/moneyfornothing.htmlBackdraft - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Backdraft_(film)Elvis Presley - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elvis_PresleyNHL teams - https://www.nhl.com/info/teams/Golden State Warriors - https://www.nba.com/warriors/The Viper Room - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Viper_RoomJason Donovan incident at Viper Room (content warning) - https://www.unmade.fm/press-playCatch the bonus Request Room episode - https://www.patreon.com/posts/110884533
Clayton Fletcher (@claytoncomic) uses GTO Wizard to explore some pots discussed on last week's episode, featuring Brent Lee! Befuddled by at least one of the results, he asks you dear listeners to help illuminate the discoveries.---Play on ACR using the promo code TPE for a 100% first-time deposit bonus up to $2,000.00 USD: https://bit.ly/2Wvb6Vb----Register for GTO Wizard and save 10% off your first purchase using this link: https://gtowizard.com/p/tpe----Join the Tournament Poker Edge discord channel:https://t.co/JHEUIHrCrJ
The fellas of "Two Complex" are back with another set of complex topics. In this episode, the duo discuss: The NBAs new media contract, Kawhi Leonard withdrawing from the Olympics, Paul George talks about his contract negotiations with the Clippers, and Kevin Durant is trolling about his height! Let us know what you think in the comments and don't forget to like the video and subscribe to the channel!!0:00 Intro10:57 $76 Billion NBA Media Rights Deals29:26 Kawhi Leonard's Decision to withdraw from the Olympics49:35 Paul George's Contradictory Statements and Departure from the Clippers1:08:40 Kevin Durant's Height ControversyFollow us on these Social Media Platforms:Instagram: twocomplexpod TikTok: twocomplexpodThreads: @TwoComplexPodStream us on these podcasting platforms:Apple PodcastSpotifyiHeartRadio
DoubleLine Portfolio Manager Samuel Lau and Quantitative Eric Dhall review a mixed showing the week ended May 24, 2024, for stocks (1:09), bonds (4:04) and commodities (5:47). Turning to macro news (6:57), they note May 1 FOMC minutes show befuddlement ... Read More
Floss gets lost in a paddock and Lou gets lost in the week but nevertheless they've both learnt a thing or two. Special thanks to Highland FM, Adam Stokeld, Warren Barnett, Harrison East and Louise Docker.
Discover the electrifying world of sales and marketing mastery with your hosts, Clay and Joseph, as we tackle the buzzing topics that will supercharge your electrician business with strategies that truly conduct success. Amidst tales of family joys and the grounding experience of gardening, we bridge into how you can light up your service offerings by solving the specific problems your customers didn't even know they had. Say goodbye to generic solutions; with our insights, your business will be the one customers can't resist turning to when the lights go out.Befuddled by marketing jargon that trips the breaker on your sales pitch? We're here to help you rewire your approach. By speaking directly to your customer's lived experiences, we show you how to make your electrical services as clear as daylight, avoiding technical lingo that could leave potential clients in the dark. Together with Joseph, we illuminate the path to marketing that resonates deeply with your audience, ensuring your message doesn't just flicker in the background but shines brightly, capturing attention and sparking immediate interest.As we wrap up this charged conversation, we put the spotlight on the power of finding your niche in the vast electrical market. Specialization isn't limitation; it's the key to unlocking a higher voltage of profitability and becoming the go-to expert in your field. Take away our actionable advice to weave customer feedback into your marketing language, making your business not only a service provider but a partner in power. Plug into this episode and energize your sales and marketing tactics to keep that business current pulsing strong.Join us LIVE 5 days a week on the Facebook Community page:https://www.facebook.com/groups/electricpreneursecretsAnd see us and our stories and wins at:https://www.serviceloopelectrical.com
Jesse and Youppi go for a walk in Prospect Park with Jennie Egerdie, the author of Frog And Toad Are Doing Their Best and the upcoming Oh, Bother: Winnie the Pooh is Befuddled, Too, to enjoy a beautiful spring day and talk about the Sesame Street atmosphere of Park Slope, trees growing in Brooklyn, monster trucks, and, of course, the biology of Mr. and Mrs. Met as relates to their old SportsCenter commercial. There was also discussion about the metric system and tricking Michiganders about Canada, but there were sound problems with that part. If you want to hear that part through the sound of microphone rubbing on hoodie, it's available on the dedicated Youppi Show podcast feed, because Youppi sure didn't mind. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit willetspen.substack.com
How are things going for you these days? Befuddled by that question have I been for... something like 100 days. That gap harkens back to November 1st of last year. Which feels about right. I know this much: whatever lull of life I lollygagged my way into lately has come to an end. No more wound licking. There's too much to attend to around here to worry about the bruises life hands out with indiscriminate glee. Not for me. And not for thee. Definitely not for thee.NëiNsensiCaL Episode 32 of 53
Lee is joined by Sam Larner and Will Owen to talk about the Euro weekend, but instead spend most of it talking about whether there is still such a concept as a handling rugby team. This is an unedited full episode out in the wild. If you want the unedited treatment each week, then head to patreon.com/bloodandmud to sign up Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Dan Bernstein and Laurence Holmes listened and reacted to Bears quarterback Justin Fields' postgame comments regarding a big hit he took in Chicago's loss to Green Bay on Sunday that forced him to leave the game to be evaluated for a concussion but which wasn't flagged.
Mea Culpa welcomes my friend, Lev Parnas to the show. Lev is a Soviet-born businessman who along with Rudy Giuliani and Igor Fruman played a central role in the campaign to pressure Ukraine to investigate Trump's political rivals…including Hunter Biden. Parnas was thrown into Trump's first impeachment drama, but he ended up working with federal prosecutors against Giuliani and the former president. Parnas served a 20-month sentence for Campaign Finance, Wire Fraud, And False Statements Offenses. Lev's explosive new memoir, TRUMP FIRST: How the President and his associates turned their backs on me and my family” is out now and it promises to be a great read. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
Website: https://saltmustflow.comOTHER PLATFORMSRumble: https://rumble.com/c/SaltyCrackerYouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@SaltyCrackerTwitter: https://twitter.com/SaltyCracker9Locals: https://saltycracker.locals.com/Odysee: https://odysee.com/@SaltyCracker:aBitchute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/thesaltycracker/Dlive: https://dlive.tv/TheSaltyCrackerFoxhole: https://pilled.net/#/profile/135344SUPPORT SALTYWebsite: https://saltmustflow.com/support/SubscribeStar: https://www.subscribestar.com/salty-crackerCash App: https://cash.app/$saltmustflowMerchandise: https://saltmustflow.com/shop/Mrs. Salty's Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UChnZMOno3rthe1LHvcxufdwMusic by: https://incompetech.com/ Crinoline Dreams In Your Arms--Disclaimer-- These are the opinions and ramblings of a foul-mouthed lunatic. They are for entertainment purposes only and are probably wrong. You listen at your own risk.
Mike Matthews discusses the interesting news from the end of the week and Mike answers what is going on in Tracy. Join Mike as he podcasts live from Café Anyway with Madame Rootabega, Valentino, and Bison Bentley. Next show it's Chely Shoehart, Floyd the Floorman, and John Deer the Engineer.
Mike Matthews discusses the interesting news from the end of the week and Mike answers what is going on in Tracy. Join Mike as he podcasts live from Café Anyway with Madame Rootabega, Valentino, and Bison Bentley. Next show it's Chely Shoehart, Floyd the Floorman, and John Deer the Engineer.
In this episode of the Necessary Roughness Podcast, host Nikolas Donadic dives into the NFL regular season's Week 6 matchups. He also struggles to name the AFC's top dog so far, touches on the 49ers early season dominance, and dives into the weird Steve Smith-Jerry Jeudy beef. Enjoy the show and join us next weekend for the following episode!
Yes! You are in! Another mic drop for you, this one coming from North Phoenix, this is some advanced lifting so the deeper should dig it...here you go...Wow! Thank you Dr. Noe Garcia, North Phoenix, you are a gift for this season. I know you have some great speakers in the area. Noe is an excellent teacher. He makes the play of the day again. If you dig, you can hear more of that message at North Phoenix Baptist Church, that message is entitled "I Will" and it was published on the 20th of August 2023.If you are a newer believer or an old one, this is a key learning point for some of you. There's your answer to Why. Jesus got brutally nailed to a cross for you, why do you think life should be easy. This broken planet is brutal. Knowing that, who or what are you clinging to? Confession, I've clinged to the wrong things and people at times. It's easy to do. The wise cling to God, their saviour Jesus Christ and their Helper the Holy Spirit. There's no bettter place to go in tough times. And bonus points for you that cling to God during great and indifferent times too. Bonus story! I love Miracle Stories. Who doesn't? Once upon a time, FriDude Casey told his Windshield Cash story that totally blew my mind. You'll have to dig back for that one in the podcast. Yet today, I have a new one for you. 23 year old Diggin Dirt Deep Matt, a current contributor to ThursDudesPM, was in Walmart in the state of Wyoming. n the Wow Factor, this praise report ranks up there with the Casey Windshield miracle story. Diggin Dirt Deep Matt (23) currently with ThursDudesPM was at Walmart this week. He had a young woman struggling with payment in front of him. She was trying three different cards. On top of that embarrassment someone else in line was giving her a hard time. Matt steps up and pays for her...around $250! That alone is a cool story for grace. There's more. Matt just got a new job with the railroad. Getting transferred to Wyoming. Moving his young wife and child from El Paso. So he's off to meet his new landlord for the place he's going to rent. Upon arrival, he sees that same young woman. Befuddled, he walks up to learn that young woman is the grand daughter of the landlord. She was recently laid off and living with him. The landlord was so moved to hear the story of the Young Buck's Christian heart that he waived first month's rent and the security deposit. Wow! Father God, you never cease to amaze me!Now go, cling to the Heavenly Father God in tought times in good times, love Him with all your heart soul and mind, then love others just like Matt in that Walmart line or wherever God tees you up. Everything else you are trying to do correctly on this earth, hangs on those two, love God, love others, check Matt 22: 26-40. I love you, yes even you that i really don't know. This is why I do what I do.
I walked in locked in; Pistol cocked, and pointed towards my head You'll only want me when you have no options left, Or when I'm dead “It's clever” They all said An ambitious endevour End this life, and be devoured By the miester and the misters of the hour How about now? (Or–) How about Now, or How about Now, or How about Now? Or, How about now, or How about now, or How about now? Or, How about Now, or How about Now, or How about Now? Now or Never I said “That's clever” or “How about Now” What do you want from me? I lie for a living; A literal drama queen, don't eat turkey on thanksgiving I'm the worthless word for Surface level thinking on this Earth, or Picking hearses with my cursor, Mercenary, Mercury, or Just a Mercer–But not a Mercedes; I'm paid, but I hate paying; Made the game, but I hate playing I remember making hate to be created Just for entertainment– A belated invitation, Now i'll face it, Back to Basic– But she's laced with Masonry; A tastemaker, maybe But she just wants a family, Whatever that means Wow. How about now? Fuck this. Homelssness. I woul rather kill myself than stay alive I'd rather die than fight Don't want to write this: I'm just a diamond pressurized And i might never see the light I'll never see the lght I see the light There's no honor in suicide But i've devided my mind a million times And now like dynamite in a mine; Collapsed, collided, ad defined by All divine; You'll never see me shine, But deep inside I'd blind you; Guided by the tide, I've come to find you Down, I dive I'm not alive, you know I'm always misaligned But that's beside the point Another suicide attempt Is in the midst– But just what is it; More than just one, is it? Rather die than listen to Skrillex Or take pills just to chill with it For real? this shit again? It wasn't real, all to begin with It's only mental illness cause i'm penniless Now i've got so much to deal with Another wound to heal, Another deal, perhaps I'll make another million in a year, If i'm still here– And i”m still here– And i'm still– Who are you now, and— Who were you then; And— Which part of this, would you want— Or did want, Or just wanted Pondered before in a vision, Outfitted in hooded drapery, The heaviest fabric; A rosary hung from his neck But can't recall the connection In this ressurection I can recall him, But never remember The calling Let's call him Oh, fuck man. ‘Friar Tuck' THAT WAS IT. The high priest of asencion, Was burned in her memory— Not as a friend, But a friend of the enemy; Who she loved and protected, Despite all the envy, She felt for Persephone— Just an unjust figure, A fictional figment of imagination But— Who was I then And who am I now; And what part of him, Would I want, if I wanted Or wished for, Or honored A friend, long forgotten Not a high priest, But a Friar That was it— But before, As Mary, Joseph, and Jesus On the front lines of the war, Not to be started, but ended, as in Preparation, a blood sacrifice I've prepared In a premonition that I'd Give my whole heart again Honest, And honestly slain in the eyes, Of a man I remember, But didn't, when it mattered— Then did, right in front of him Who are we now, and— Who were we then; Let's find out, As time's running out again “Yes, I know him.” She sighed, eyeing from over the rims of the glasses she purchased only earlier to assure she had hidden the tears that she cried for Him— Neither a friend or an enemy, rather The ghost of a shadow she hadn't yet met with again, since he entered her presence Shifting into a tent Now, ripped from the pages of a book she cherished, A page which she promised to never diminish or tarnish would go up in ashes, As totems would fall, Wishes would become granted The PyRAmiD Spell (For Pasquale Rotella) gave gave the man honorary doctorate, and then reneged it, nigga thought he was actually bigger than big sister sick spitter, rip n dip listening to anything but Skrillex that shit is for kids ‘Check it' I hate midi gimmie a synth, something gritty, I'll make it pretty Come and try to get me, I been dead for centuries, Unsolved like a mystery This image don't mean shit to me, I sit to think, I wait to speak, I leak some information on the interwebs just to see how fast it comes back to me I'm actually a master “Untitled 07” It's like a 24/7 job, can't get no rest in, At best you're looking like a slob I kamikaze ‘em all, I am your mom, I will tell you what you are, to me By now, you should know, or see Just a name on my computer screen A friendly neighbor on Easy Street A wish, A lucid dream, A misalignment, so its seems So let me tell you what you are to me: Just make believe (Just make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) It may be evil (Make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) A lucid dream I'll tell you what I've seen, and what I see (and What I see) I dare to dream (I dare to dream) But please believe me, I'm as evil as can be Don't let my anything deceive you I'm a fleeting, bleeding Beaten bride to be No, don't believe me I'm the fire and gnashing teeth they preached to you May everything I've written one day reach you And beseech you, Just like you did to me Now let me tell you what I see; Just make believe (Just make believe) It may be evil (Make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) A lucid dream When I wash up on the beach, From blazing fires of burning seas, Let me sing you all to sleep For every tear I often weep To dream of you A lucid dream Just fucking make believe; And I can make believe we fucked Just so I can get to sleep (Are you proud of me?) Hey. (Sarcastically) Oh, Come In. (Sighs heavily) I fucked up. I'm not surprised. I'm not surprised. Don't copy me. I need help. No arguments there. Dude, I'm serious. __ So first of all oh God, now what– I'm not racist You're extremely racist Racist By Proxy I'm not Racist They do look alike. Check this out: WOAH. That's…not a coincidence. That's definitely not a coincidence. Fuck. This. Shit. Here, take this. So, you dropped this totem… Uh-huh. In the ocean. Yes I did. And that one Ooof. What about– That came off on the moped. How? When I came off the moped. So you admit it. SO! He only let me ride it cause he wanted to ride ME! Nice. Did you sing to him? Uh, I sang for him? What's the difference? Here's every song I've ever written about X.X Just kill yourself. Should I then? I mean, perHAPS. I mean, maaaayyyybeee. You know what? I do know. Fuckthisshit. Fuck it, then. I'm out. I quit. Go find SupaCree. This…is impossible. Nothing is impossible. Except for that. Oh. “Oh.” No, i'm serious. You look serious–I'm just saying. What is this? Don't touch that– What is it? It's– [a tiny explosion] –ugh. Volatile. What the fuck are you into? I told you. You said “music.” What is “Music” [very deep pondering] I hate you. We have to find her. You have to. What! You're not going to help us? I have other things to do. Like what, dude? Like what, broh. Feed My cat; Your cat died. Walk my dog– You don't have a dog. I'm getting one. Oh, Jesus Christ Don't get all religious on me, now, not after that. Not after what? Yeah, which thing? ___ Man. Get me out of here. [shrugs] I hate being stuck in your head. What is THIS. Uh. play dead. What's up with your dog. Ruff. Good boy. I'm a girl. Uhhh–good girl. Wait. Hm. Did that dog just– [???] Nevermind. I've been up for 6 days straight. Tour life, buddy. Ah-huh. Uhh. Can I take a shower in your– Take a sho–? [dog grumphs] Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks. *Shapeshifts* Wow, that's cool. It's so stupid. I came in late to the office, so to speak; it had been an off day, after an off night, plagued by what I was sure to be some sort of demonic magic—I was moving slowly, off beat, and irritated—nevermind the lack of energy, as I moved about as steadily as I could—making arrangements for the next trials to come, as it seemed nearly impossible to move ahead, and yet—somehow, I had been given what seemed like one final chance to survive, or not. I had spent the first part of my day, somehow waking with a gust of light, and ready to take on the tasks at hand—then quickly wiped of anything holy in me by the outrageously disgusting hacking and howling of the seemingly-programmed man-or-something-alike, and into a manic-semi-conscious desperation to piece together what was left of my life—seemingly nothing, but somehow still pieced and patched together by music, the overriding theme being that I would be quickly booted out of any position unsuitable for me; and by now, I was just about unsuitable for everything, besides gym crawling and throwing together pieces of literature unlike any I had before seen, as I was, assuredly beginning to look in every direction for other writers which may have matched my style of the then-present day and age, and to my shagrin had found nearly nothing to gawk about, but at the very least had picked up some novels noteworthy in nature, as they had made me laugh, or somehow otherwise caught my attention. Now in my Arsenal, I had one novel, each respectively written by a woman, a white man, and a black man—every book I had otherwise been drawn to written by black women were, upon cracking to open, too-stereotypically black, or about being a black-girl in some kind of way I knew too much about and had absolutely no interest in reading. I had no idea what caused me to look into a world I had all but shut out of my mind—this someone and something had haunted me for months and even growing into years now, first affectionately, but now growing into an uneasy and painstaking, critical list for something deeper. I hated my ex husband for bringing me to this, and, as I looked at the clock at 5:55 exactly, nearly vomited in disgust at the sprawling obsession I would have to somehow quiet—as there really was no halting the plague of tragic recouping thoughts of Dillon Francis at random—now, daily, for quite some time, even as the automatic writing had nearly stopped entirely; I had become entrapped with daily reminders of things I had written, now welling up with spite and anger, that I had even allowed myself the obsession to begin with—especially after what had happened—or what had not happened—with Sonny, whatever way you wanted to look at it. Now; just left with a burning lust and motion sickness beyond my wildest control upon approaching the matter if it all, nonetheless with peaking curisosity, as he had walked in and out if my dreamscape like a picturesque bandit, even hijacking my own sexuality—now almost didn't want or dream of anything else, and with the un presidented amount of ‘decoys' life had thrown at me—Bruno, the bird speaking man from Belgium with the eyes that burned in striking similarity to Dillon's—and then again with Gabriel, the man who had hired me to DJ in the small cerveceria in Mazunte, who could have been his brother'; a dazzlingly handsome, if not perfect near-replica of Dillon Francis, who, by that point, i couldn't even bear to look at, let alone conjure the spark or touch of romance—even after multiple suggestions that he and his girlfriend had just broken up. I never allowed myself for a moment to believe or think that Dillon—or any of the men I fawned after, for that matter, in reality, a very short list—would ever be settled with the idea of me as a perfect fit; no, I sat in the certain reality that I was cursed, living in the opposite exact of the Allison Wonderland archetype—a woman who I theorized may have been Skrillexed and Dillon Francis'd herself—it seemed to be a pattern of hypnotism I was finally wrapping my head around, and even had learned to respect if not envy: I wanted the codes to create my own version of the worlds I had been spun into—and while I would more than likely never be a light skinned, light eyed beauty Queen; perhaps my own kingdom was meant to be of wit and wealth, rather than vanity. Still, headed back into the desert, I found myself scrolling through open guest lists, excited to take my longtime best friend turned literal goddess club crawling, looking for industry and network connections, if not at least a sex partner that could keep up with my needs, now furiously tearing at me from the inside out—as I scrolled, RSVPing for any acts I hadn't yet seen but had heard of, I found myself trailing off in thought and perhaps looking for something I hadn't realized I would stray into; I knew specifically that Dillon had a residency at the Wynn, and —though I also knew I wouldn't be caught dead at this point anywhere I knew he was, or especially stupid enough to pay for it. Now it was torturous, knowing how regretfully physical my attraction had become—understsnding from my interactions with the aforementioned that I was drawn to Dillon for his features—his eyes, his hair, and everything in his silhouette from his jawline, to his lips and brow drove me absolutely wild—however, I had learned about my very fragile psychiatry from my obsession with Skrillex, or with Sonny—neither of which I wished existed, adding Dillon Francis to the list of fictional characters I pushed further into my imaginary incineration box, where I put everything that not need affect my actual emotions or actions; Dillon Francis, a wealthy and talented, very handsome man—could not exist. I wished more than ever that I wasn't dark skinned, that I wasn't heavy set, that I didn't come with a flaming dumpster full of trauma and baggage that no man wanted or needed, but especially not the wealthy and handsome individuals I had spent very much of the last passing years writing about and fantasizing over, finding it respectably impossible to even have flings or sexual experiences without either of the two most rampant figures of my infatuation crossing into my mind and shrouding me with guilt and shame—and yet, here they were, so out of my element that I continued to agree with myself and the universe that it would be dillusinal to think myself a match for anyone so high-achieving. Nothing I could do or say could shake the fact that despite all my efforts to break through, all it had seemed to do was create a broken down individual, ready for enslavement in the working class just to stay housed—my music aspirations both hanging above me, and somehow fading away into the distance behind me. I hated myself. But more importantly, hated Skrillex and Dillon Francis for living the life I somehow thought I wanted and needed. What is the definitive definition of the word Skrillex? Skrillex: noun...right? What, you don't know? I know! It's...a noun...right? Right. Right--- ---Right! Could also be, an adjective, I guess--i? You guess?! You have to know. I mean--- Coughs ain't shit Skrillex ain't *coughs Satan ain't shit Bitch suck a dick Slit ya wrists On ya pissed off Little ass nigga. A loud, abrupt cough disrupted my focus; I was 5-sets-of-8 out of 8 and just feeling my heart begin to pump, as sweat poured from my temples and my sunglasses steamed “Man, fuck Coughs.” Whoever she was, even if it was just one of my infinite inward selves, this was some satanic shit. Now I hated Skrillex—not that it mattered, and as he was a living legend in computer animated music, or whatever voodoo shit he was responsible for that had sparked an entire uprising of revolutionary artists and producers spanning a generation or more—and I was damned-if-I-did, and damned-if-I-didn't love, like, or listen to him; all of which I did, besides the latter higher love by Whitney Houston, God rest her soul, blared over the gym's loud speakers, as I, more than likely looking just as superficially occupied as any basic broad, scrolling away on Instagram or texting her replicas, jotted down the rest of the thoughts that had nestled themselves in my mind's eye, as the coughing, which had followed me everywhere for nearly four years, beckoned to something—searching for purpose if not means to an end. He had Kayla Lauren, a plastic, streamlined representation of the all-American-deem girl, not to mention a “collective” of other broad women of sorts, probably all inwardly clawing just as I had at one time, for a piece of Sonny's heart, or whatever was left of it, after what I could have only assumed to have been a blood sacrifice of sorts, for his placement atop such a steep pyramid of success. What if, every time someone coughed—someone took a picture? I thought about the millions of hacking imbeciles and inbred, backwards savages who had crowded my ears with the putrid sounds of Satan's show choir, a coughing and excessive hellish representation of how the human race had gone awry; If I had been famous, or on my way to it, I would be burgeoned with photographs, as I had been in Mexico without knowing why or how—people sometimes slinking behind their phones as if to secretly capture a candid photo, I myself, pretending not to be aware of it. Cough cough. Ugh. If every cough represented a fan or something of the sorts taking a picture, I almost reveled in the thought—I would have rather had a million flashing cameras at once than to hear another ingrate hacking up a lung in Satan's honor. I was horrified at whatever Skrillex was, and whatever OWSLA meant, though I broadly showcased the tattoo on my inner-right forearm, opposite of Sonny's—the boy I was sure was murdered by the fame monster itself, as Lady Gaga, though admirable, had blatently called it, or herself, or whatever “we” all were or had been once, or would be, collectively at the beginning-and-end of it all. I had seen broadly into the realms of infinity the night previous, and had settled on one, astonishing fact: all of infinitely combined shared a concéntrical center at which at any point could be accessed. Even typing such a concept, I knew it to be life-altering…if I was even alive. To think, I used to hate deadmau5– I hate deadmau5– You know—after that spat with Skrillex. GO TEAM SKRILLEX!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! who the fuck is deadmau5, anyway. But here I am, decades later. [skrillex] FUCK THIS NIGGA. I needed something to help offset the damage that was done. [someone coughing loudly] Fuck this coughs bitch! [trying on small clothes] Ohh. [kayla Lauren] [sadness] Aww. [dillon Francis] —well how was I supposed to know he was a— STOP RIGHT THERE! I'm...not moving. Yeah, you're not. Uh, okay? You know why? I didn't ask— You need THIS: What is this. I'll tell you what it is [beat] … Okay—what is it?' ILL TELL YOU WHAT IT IS. — Technically, If I do this every day, I can eat whatever I want— Just eat it. No. But I won't. Well, why not? Too Fat For Skrillex. — [C.C. Arrives in the parking lot to find her car has been vandalized...again.] ...Skrillex did this. On Jimmy Fallon. On Jimmy Fallon. Alright, then, kid—it's your dollar. I'll take “Skrillex Did It” for one dollar. But he's halfway across the world! He can shapeshift! Don't be stupid. What—! He's a shapeshifter, for real. We know! Just don't say it! I saw it. We all have. What the fuck, bro— Where did you come from? I've been here. Haven't we all? That's the spirit. What's a spirit? I'm glad you asked. As SUPACREE walks down the street, a man in the passenger's seat is seen to be the Egyptian God ANUBIS, before shifting back into hidden human form. Which one's that? Anubis, right? Googles 'deities' Oh, there he is: Anubis. Good. What's he want? Whatever it is, that's not what I was looking for. What are you looking for? That dark thing. Which “dark thing”? Flashback: That's inside me?! Flashback to Kite at Bass– UGH! Canyon. That's it. That's what it is. LET ME OUT. It's gonna destroy something. She. She–yes–apparently so. CUT BACK TO Fuck you, Skrillex! Stay over there and be Skrillex with your fucking–models–and you coughs piece of fucking–peice of fucking shit, peice of shit. Oh SHIT, who let him in? I mean, it's Skrillex. Yeah, but who let him near SUPACREE? He does what he wants. I heard that. Fuck you, Skrillex. That sounds deep. I guess so. What even happened? Nobody seems to know. Oh. –Except these guys. Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from?! CULT FOLLOWERS Yes–”WHO” Yes–”WHERE” Uh, okay. SUPACREE Fuck this shit. I quit. You can't quit. I just did. Fuck Skrillex. Ah, shit, here it comes. Go ahead, the worst he can do is cough at me and make me homeless. *loud obnoxious coughing* Do your worst. *more loud coughing* Fuckin'. Satan's pet. Satan's not real! Then neither is Skrillex. Amen. (Cult Followers, In unison.) Amen. [SUPACREE exits furiously.] What…the fuck. Pause. Wait, is this marketable? Yes. How? Cause its Skrillex. Skrillex is clickbait. What the FUCK did he do? *COUGHS* I mean, I bet– Fucking–motherfucker. Fuck. Well, now what? Now, nothing. I'mma go get a regular job and see what the industry wants with Jessica. (((Oh, I think you know what they want.))) ((Oh, God Knows)) I thought we weren't doing that bit. We're doing all the bits. MORTY. JESSICA. Oh yeah. Even better. C'esme't sighs heavily, unamused. My liege. Don't be coy with me. I would never. There are hardly any things left you would never do. If not only because I had done them all; But to be coy, with you, my Queen is neither desire or pleasure. You are clever. At your discretion. I began to wonder if I may have looked as miserable as I was, as even though I could not see my own self, walking about in my day-to-day nothingness, the expression protruding from my face felt as if it might look as lifeless as I was beginning to feel, no longer wholly choking back tears but still moving and barely breathing in the awful circumstance of doing and being–I had felt the light itself slowly draining from my eyes, and even things I loved with all my heart could not in any sense brighten this dullness. I felt Godless, and at the very least loveless, lightless, and without my magic, somehow having lost my soul and my singing voice at once. Yes, it was terrible–something was wrong, and I, without becoming the star I had so wanted, was already washing up. Homelessness drained all of what would have been a magnificent energy all together, left to become someone I wasn't sure I even liked, and seemingly cursed, as most recently, no one else seemed to like me either--still, I almost let myself believe something bigger was at play, or perhaps in the works; I had been relocated just perfect walking distance to the gym, where of course rather than look for work which would only urge me closer to suicide than I had been, I elected instead to spend a majority of my time, crafting my days around getting there for the bare minimum of three hours, but ideally closer to 5 or 6, always aiming for 8 and almost-always giving up not because I was too tired, but because I was drenched in sweat, and something like the discomfort of a wet diaper, just wanted to be fresh and dry. God, Help me with this affliction Pick a clip, Flick the bean, And watch Netflix I'm stressin, wet and undressin This sexual tension is serious Salad, with no dressin I'm the lady in the red dress, and yes I write blank checks, so when I go to Heck, I bounce back like, “Yes.” [YES] No pressure, It's my pleasure; I'd rather be in leather than in latex, lathered up Present, or past but honestly, neither matters; Just give this to Marshall Mathers, And a Dad Hat; AMEN Hey Kids, Lets not say “Amen”, After we say hanuss shit, okay? Today, I'm Eminem, so I can finally find Skrillex, And kill him: My mission is to introduce a new religion to humans, called STOP BEING STUPID. Stop Being Skrillex. Well, Alright Then. [Presses Easy Button] “WELL, THAT WAS-- CUT TO: -__- SUPACREE wakes up from a coma; In a very SKRILLEX, Get out. [He just does.] ...Where's Dillon Francis? ...Dillon Is Dead. Dilon Francis Died. He's...left us. ...Nope. Yes, he is. SUPACREE, I'm Sorry. Don't be sorry. Be Dillon Francis. The Coma--You know---must've-- You know. Nope. Where's Pasquale? Who is that? Oh, fuck this. No, wait, stop! STAHP. Bring Skrillex Back. I never left. You're never there. Here, Tres Leches … Dulce De Leche. You know what? What? NO. NO? NO. __ ALRIGHT, WHERE'S DILLON FRANCIS? Who is that? STOP PLAYING GAMES. DILLON FRANCIS is in THE VOID, trying to beat THE LEGEND of SUPACREE. It's a really good game. DILLON FRANCIS (cracked) “It's a really good game!” GAMERS It is, a really good game. So good, in fact, that when SUPACREE herself arrives, S/He pays her almost entirely no mind. Really, Dillon Francis? ... Really, Motherfucker. DILLON FRANCIS I'm The Captain SUPACREE No, I am. (I AM!) She gestures that she is about to unplug the TV DILLON FRANCIS Don't do that. SUPACREE What? I am (I AM) Don't do it again! I told you, it's-- IN Dillon. DILLON Don't FIN. SUPACREE Unplugs the Set. DEADMAU5 FUCK, MAN. FINALLY. SUPACREE Be Less Canadian. JOEL No, I can't DILLON FRANCIS No, He can't-- JESUS No, he can't. [Beat] DILLON IS SHATTERED, as at the last moment (before the determination of the outcome of the battle, it entirely ceases to exist. Moments of silence pass in infinite tension, before DILLON, looking much like an uncomfortable, overheated, skinless (live) chicken, meets a soon to be boiled crab. OH, MY GOD. GAD/SUPACREE/C.C. That's... what they call me. *coughs* -UGLY!- *coughs* *coughs* GOD. GOD No, not you. DILLON FRANCIS ...Oh, My God. GOD What, Dillon Francis? DILLON FRANCIS Are you SUPACREE? GOD I...Am. DILLON FRANCIS Oh My God--I am too! GOD I know this. DILLON FRANCIS Oh My God! GOD Yeah, I know! Woah, he's Fangirling He's fangirling so hard. Well, wouldn't you. Ask me about IT.” (IS/IT) 3 heads are better than one; This is a a game based on truth; The more you ask, the more you know; The more you know about me— The more you know about yourself— The more you know about yourself, the more you know about the world You are the world. Ī ∆ M Ū. Goddammit! You son of a bitch. She won't watch it I bet she will They know I will He knows I am! I am! Oh, there we go—it's on Get off me! Goddammit, Dillon Francis! I hate you. I hate you BACK! GO BACK! GO BACK! GO BACK–WHEN TO THE WYNN!! Right—! Wait—- Not yet— I know the code. Oh she– she knows what the code is. What did I put it in? I get it, I get it, it's— Not now, then! Not then, now! Not— Wait—- DONT! ...then, I die. The DJ VALET AND THE DJ BALLET THE BAMPHERAMPH BALANCING ACT WITH THE CHAMPION OF RAP?!? ...ohhh, wave dash, I get it… Ū Alright. GOD This is the part where you don't sleep. SUPACREE Oh no. GOD You've been ‘Don't Eating' for like, 8 months now. Now it's time to Don't Sleep. SUPACREE Yikes. Û You can bet we'll have it done by the beginning of next semester. GERALD Next semester's set to not even be in a classroom. Ï Even better. Remote binge worthy media. Excerpt From: “Blū and The Cosmic Owl” ... ...Having found the fallen owl, he glances up at the sky, just as another shooting star flies by. In awe, he stands at the giant animal, who pants in a tragically cry in pain. He sorrowfully glances into the bird's giant eye, crying as his tears spill into the trail of blood, a sparkling dark purple river, streaked with the silver streams of moonlit tears and the golden gleam of a lucid dream; her dilated pupils reflect all the cosmos, sparkling through the three round dials; some sound, which has never heard or even fathomed to be made, a vibration ringing as it aligns with his light, which also shines now through his dark brown eyes; He is hypnotized, nearly full of light in a state of trance as he begins to float upward, levitating just slightly--A SUDDEN FLASH OF COSMIC LIGHT, as the wounded bird, morphs into a matching [humanoid] being, abruptly changing the frequency from a hypnotising lull, to an ear-shattering, soul startling and painstaking frequency. As they both hover above the ground-- still in levitation, he quickly looks down worriedly, then back up at the being--now matching in age, as The Princess, a pretty poised and painted warrior, adorned with the royally decadent white and purple trimmed fashion, crystals and gemstones of the galaxies imbedded into her sashes. He's enamoured and intrigued, less terrified than excited; however her eyes, now changing a through colors of neon light, reflect her terrified and painful confusion, having been wounded with the weapon of ‘man'--he falls toward the ground, suddenly, groaning in pain, then turning into a fetal position from which he cowers in fear under her. A tear, which has formed in her eye, nearly falls; she forcefully reabsorbs it back into her eyes, as she calms herself down, lowering gracefully to the ground. She crouches over him, thinking twice quite literally, before angrily kneeling over him, yielding a ball of fire out of one hand, holding him by his shirt with the other--he cowers in fear, now--his awestruck chased away by the apparent power of this being; she quickly throws her fireball at a nearby bush, lighting it as he glares at the sight slightly stupified by the fire light, which he likes. A splash of water drenches him from head to toe, blasting off his pink glasses and shattering playful spry outlook with a very grumpy pout, as he stands up, dripping from head to toe. She stands, one leg crossed over the other, another dream of water floating in her hand; as he stands dripping, she blasts him again, with the intensity of a firehose pushing him back. Taking awhile to get back, she waits, meditating by the bush as a campfire, as he, still dripping approaches. She looks out of one eye, unassumingly continuing to meditate as he approaches the fire, which he sits by, as closely and cautiously on the other side, trying to get dry. She looks at him from the other eye, calmly sighing as she blasts him with the surprise of an almost blow dry, which she provides by colliding her hands stretched outwardly towards him; the heated gust leaves him looking somewhat like a freshly groomed poodle--his dark brown hair to match his sweet and gentle eyes, by which, his glasses having been blasted off a third time, he notices as he pushes up on the bridge of his nose, realizing he's lost them again--before he can even (literally) think to retrieve them, they float, guided by her telekinetic twisting of her index finger. BLŪ ...thank you... Still unable to form words, she just gazes at him from over the firelight, sternly searching perhaps, for the way to create a translation between her native telepathic ways of communication, or any of the alien languages--she is unfamiliar with this, though captioned in (several, actually) alien languages, we, as the audience can perceive any of the dialogue just to be "english". PRINCESS Why would you do that?! BLŪ What?! PRINCESS What you did to me! BLŪ I didn't mean to! PRINCESS Mean to what? BLŪ Shoot you!? I-- PRINCESS Why would you ‘shoot' an Owl!? BLŪ An ‘owl?' I'm sorry! I didn't! PRINCESS Didn't what? LOOK. [She appears, even still, to be wounded.] BLŪ I--I never-- PRINCESS Never what? BLŪ I've never seen an ‘owl' before… PRINCESS So you just--!? BLŪ I'm sorry! PRINCESS What were you attempting to do? BLŪ I don't know! PRINCESS You don't know? BLŪ No! I just-- PRINCESS You? BLŪ I...just… PRINCESS You… BLŪ I… PRINCESS … [She appears to be bleeding through the sheath of her bodice.] BLU ...Are you ok? CYPHER I: ‘The Coffee Run' This is my job, Like this is your job I look at the jaw I want what you want This is my planet we're on This is is my plan, I got lost in it Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm not You just want a nut with a butt I just want a bud-- [Sample, Dillon Francis: Hey Buddy! (The Coffee Run)] --I'm not your buddy. Ah. Look at that car; I'm on a coffee run at McDonald's How much does it cost? A dollar, one— It's like putting gas in my car, I don't wanna I don't wanna I don't wanna Call Jimmy Fallon to borrow a dollar. It's a coffee run A coffee run A coffee run; You cough, I run You like? I'm fun The west was won by everything under the Sun, Run it This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ INT. SOMEWHERE IN ALASKA. DAY. [Before the initial collision... ] DEVIL Exited for EDC? Ï Are you serious? DEVIL Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Ï Dillon Francis? DEVIL Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Ï Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. DEVIL Why not? This guy is awesome. Ï (rolling eyes) Since when do you listen to EDM? DEVIL I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. VIDEO: NEED YOU, NGHTMRE & DILLON FRANCIS Ï Huh. CUT TO: DILLON FRANCIS arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he is ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. CUT TO SUPACREE What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him, asking "Who the fuck is that?" HANZEL Wvell that's because ze answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Ū Exactly. SUPACREE Oh, please. CUT TO: INT. THE GREAT SALTAIR. SALT LAKE CITY, UT. [SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted.] SŪP∆ Yikes. [She looks down at her [watch, which appears to be a early version of the Synesthesia Panel] it is 7:35.] SŪP∆ (CONT'D) Annnnnd--the night is young… [She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs, She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. ] DIMITRI Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. SŪP∆ Every day is rave day. DIMITRI I wish. SŪP∆ Wishes come true. DIMITRI Ugh, I wish. SŪP∆ Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. DIMITRI Think so? SŪP∆ Know so. Like--know-know… so…don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just...be...specific. [He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance.] SŪP∆ (CONT'D) ...like super specific. DIMITRI ...Specific…Wishes… SŪP∆ ‘Rollin'? [DIMITRI nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat bass house music coming from the mainstage.] SŪP∆ Just kicked in? DIMITRI (shaking head in agreement) Yuh. SŪP∆ Water? [She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immediately [DIMITRI takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front of him; however, his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up to see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up.] SŪP∆ Spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. DIMITRI ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! [He happily takes a stick, as the DJ loops [live sampling] the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown; Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as DIMITRI 'checks' himself, clearly unaware of Supa's Powers.] SŪP∆ Trash. [He enters his trash into the bag, after which, it immediately collapses, as it vanishes.] DIMITRI ...what was...what was that. SŪP∆ That...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. ((( ))) (Magic Isn't Real!) SŪP∆ Oh, fuck, right. DILLON FRANCIS(in the next dimension over) DILLON FRANCIS Is. SŪP∆ Uh, Personal Space. DILLON FRANCIS Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" SŪP∆ Telepathy wasn't invented at all. DILLON FRANCIS Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. SŪP∆ This has been previously established. DILLON FRANCIS I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. SŪP∆ Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? DILLON FRANCIS Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp, just so we can have this conversation--? Which, by the way, I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, Previously...established… SŪP∆ So what's the other half of thAt… was it even an album. Is it an EP? DILLON FRANCIS Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ! I mean, I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know --where the actual DJs...DJ. Behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. SŪP∆ ...k… DILLON FRANCIS Which you're not. SŪP∆ Oh, I'm not. DILLON FRANCIS No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. SŪP∆ ‘Not a DJ.' DILLON FRANCIS Not a DJ. Right. SŪP∆ Not a DJ...with Magic. DILLON FRANCIS Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. SŪP∆ Okay. Not-- DILLON FRANCIS Not ever-- SŪP∆ Oh right, not Ever--s BOTH --a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. SŪP∆ BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. DILLON FRANCIS I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. SŪP∆ So many fans. DILLON FRANCIS And albums. Like, tracks. SŪP∆ Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. DILLON FRANCIS Tracks. SŪP∆ I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DILLON FRANCIS DJ Dillon Francis SŪP∆ Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. DILLON FRANCIS but you're my best fan. SŪP∆ Best Fan! DILLON FRANCIS BEST FAN AWARD. SŪP∆ YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS FAN CAM! SŪP∆ ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON FRANCIS THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SŪP∆ YEAH. [Posing for a selfie, she uses one of her rave weapons (which is, actually just a regular iPhone) spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo created a time warp and intersectable checkpoint in time. She unfreezes the rave.] DIMITRI ...magic…? SŪP∆ Uh--no! ‘magic'. The music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah. DIMITRI trash...brand...bags... SŪP∆ ...yeah... [They continue to dance; she nervously looks over her shoulder for possible alternate versions of DILLON FRANCIS At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--she readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing DIMITRI by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) SŪP∆ (CONT'D) Now, business talk time. DIMITRI Serious face? [She nods adamantly. DIMITRI tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses.] CUT TO: EXT. THE OPEN SEAS. DAY [In a nearby dimension, As SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS continue to battle, they cross paths at sea.] SKRILLEX Nice Dinghy, dude. DILLON FRANCIS It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. SKRILLEX Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. DILLON FRANCIS She's the star of the show. SKRILLEX Not without me. [A BAMPHERAMPH teleportals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, tagging him, BAMPHERAMPH TAG, YOU'RE IT. [He disappears into another portal.] SKRILLEX I'm it. DILLON FRANCIS Nah, you're just “Skrillex.” SKRILLEX That's--all you need. [A MOTHERFUCKER portals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, via another portal, handing him an *object*] MOTHERFUCKER Humility. You need it. SKRILLEX ...I made the HUMBLE remix. MOTHERFUCKER Yeah you did. [THE MOTHERFUCKER disappears into a portal; SKRILLEX unwraps the object; It is a pie, labeled ‘HUMBLE PIE.'] SKRILLEX Hm. FLASHBACK: BASS DROP, HUMBLE (Skrillex Remix) CUT BACK: As the bass drops, the pie explodes; This leaves him covered in a very fruity mess, and a *bass face* CUT TO: INT. OWSLA HQ. DAY MANAGER I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. SONNY/SKRILLEX Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. [DILLON FRANCIS shows up, out of nowhere.] DILON FRANCIS Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… SKRILLEX Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of ‘Everliving Skrillex' is, I'll wait. DILLON FRANCIS My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. SKRILLEX My left sock was 69.99 this morning. MANAGER Why are you buying individual socks--??? DILLON FRANCIS Why are you buying socks in the mornings? MANAGER You're up late, how are you even up in the morning?! DILLON FRANCIS Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? MANAGER Who are you again? DILLON FRANCIS I'm Dillon Francis. DJ- Dillon Francis. SKRILLEX Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all? Yeah actually--He pushed Skrillex off a miniature yacht! SKRILLEX ...What? [DILLON FRANCIS portals them back onto the YACHT SCENE.] *alt* SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS are still fighting; They are now both on the deck of SKRILLEX's boat, DILLON FRANCIS's mini yacht burning/ devastated by what appears to be a giant kraken in the background.] ALT/SKRILLEX FUCK YOUR MINIATURE YACHT. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS You're a miniature yacht! SKRILLEX Is that US?! MANAGER I told you... ALT/SKRILLEX You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really! You're just…'Dillon Francis. ‘ ALT/DILLON FRANCIS And you're just stranded in the ocean. ALT/SKRILLEX It's okay, it's hella refreshing! UNLIKE YOUR MUSIC. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS You know what--? DILLON FRANCIS (to his alternate self) I got this. ALT/SKRILLEX Huh? [DILLON FRANCIS blasts ALT/SKRILLEX into a portal, which whirlpools him into an alternate dimension; SKRILLEX and the MANAGER look on in horror.] ALT/DILLON FRANCIS Oh God, Finally! DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, I know. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS That took FOREVER. [DILLON FRANCIS rolls his eyes and hands his alternate self a small object*.] ALT/ DILLON FRANCIS By the way-- [He opens up another portal, reaching out just to jump into it, exclaiming:] ALT/DILLON FRANCIS (CONT'D) Tag, you're it. [He disappears into the portal.] DILLON FRANCIS OH, GOD DAMMIT. COMEUPOUTDAWAHTA, S U P A C R E E M I X X __________ SKRILLEX Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. DILLON FRANCIS Suhweeet planet… SUPACREE No! Don't land on that planet! [He lands.] SUPACREE God DAMMIT. GOD I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time. SUPACREE I gave it spacetime! I am time! GOD I know you are, dear. Just be patient. SUPACREE Be patient? He went and put his DILLON FRANCIS all over it. JESUS Let Dillon Francis play with your planet, yeah? SUPACREE What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. JESUS But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. SUPACREE I do know how it goes. I wrote it. GOD How does it go? It goes: SUPACREE --No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. /SKRILLEX No planet for Dillon Francis. SUPACREE This isn't Dillon Francis Land, it's closed. And also Not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. GOD That had a lot of heart, hun. SUPACREE And no Dillon Francis. JESUS Actually, it had a lot of that, too. SKRILLEX Aha. SUPACREE --Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not-that, I'm about to knock the not-that-hot-sauce off his-- /SKRILLEX --mini yacht knocking-- SUPACREE --sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! /SKRILLEX AGHRAHGHHGH!!! JESUS Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? SUPACREE MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. SUPACREE + SKRILLEX FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. JESUS sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. SUPACREE/SKRILLEX It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ DILLON FRANCIS Hey. This is a nice planet. Ū He's gonna be like-- DILLON FRANCIS Like flabbergasted. Ū Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? DILLON FRANCIS Yeah. Ū Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? DILLON FRANCIS --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars). SKRILLEX finds the coupon.] $-FREE MCFURY. SKRILLEX ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! CUT BACK TO Ū Hehehe. EXT. AN ‘ALIEN' PLANET. SPACE THE SKRILLEX Enters The Atmosphere. THE SKRILLEX 'I AM SKRILLEX' S- Sunnï Blū, Ninja Guru Singer/Songwriter Ū- The Anti-Anti-Hero, the Superhero Persona, Ninja Assassin, and Mothafuckin' Bampheramph P-PEACE (Piece, Piece of the Puzzle, Piece of Pie, etc.) Problemo (Exists when too many plot holes and complexities arrive, also “The Pretender”, who just ignores when crazy shit happens, questions all realities (?) Alt+J- SUPACREE, The DIvine Trinity C- (Copyright Symbol) The Original Cree, Alternately Chak Chel, the ancient spirit guide ‘trapped' inside of the Physical Body to Accompany and Assist through magic, rituals, and energy manipulation through music, time space, and all reality which exists within the fathomable and expanding infinite consciousness. (thought to be ancient, however actually originating from hyper intelligent and extraterrestrial existence in the outer realms. Caricatures (“Characters” Based On Various Entertainment Artists Personas, To Be Played (As themselves) S-Dillon Francis U-Dillon Frances P-Dillon T. Francis A-Dillon Flances C-Dillon Glances R-Dillon France Is E-Fillon Dances E-(Fictional Dillon) Francis/Is Pasquale -DJ Hanzel -DJ Rich As Fuck -Gerald -N(E)RD (Pronounced” NED”) Sonny Moore/Skrillex -Hereby referenced to as SS, there exists “Infinite Skrillex” variably throughout the Multiverse, however, Skrillex himself is (secretly) the singular (and seemingly random apparent “phenomenon”) of his kind. A rare and shiny seemingly shapeshifting sorcerer, the concept and use of “Fictional Skrillex” is separated into a multitude of characters, uses and ambiguities explained throughout the series. *Spoiler*, Tying into the Theme of an Ever Expanding (and alternately, Collapsing/Compressing) Infinite Multidimensional, The Term Skrillex can refer the the Persona, or Person as Himself, but alternately is used as a noun, pronoun, verb, or adjective--even sometimes as a profanity, or to be referred to as a “race”. Sammi B,/LSDream/Brillz -Sam I Am (Festival Trip Alter Ego) -I Am Sam (Festival Trip Second Alter Ego) Pasqualle Rotella A nameless, untranslatable into spoken or written language symbol, to be decided. An Ultra-Omnipitent giant (predominately purple, but emanating all colors of the cosmos) Galaxy of Ultra Concious Light Waves, SoundFrequencies, and Own Planetary Solar System, Boasting Stars which rival our own sun. A brilliant Collection of Space Dust (A relative of “Fart”, from Rick and Morty) Evil Pasquale Pasqualle Is Dillon Francis Mr. Rager (Underground Pasqualle) A No-Named Burner and Ultimate Raver, whose domain is the kingdom of the underground rave scene--he detests the mainstream, traveling (across time, as an undercover Bampheramph), Wally (Never started Insomniac, Works At Walmart as Greeter. Never Raved.) In a homage to the second back to the future, U has traveled back to 1993 to create a reality where Google and Insomniac, etc. are owned and operated by SupaCree, skewing into an adjacent timeline in the future where her superstardom and rise to fame begins as a child star on Disney Channel, crossing multiple timelines interdimensionally intersected on the Infinite Grid so complex, it begins to create a disastrous series of knots, loops, and voids, tangled now permanently into the fabric of time. Wally is asked to fill in for his coworker in the photography section, where he develops photos from a disposable camera and is enamoured by the dazzling magic of EDC captured on camera. His eyes widen as he glimpses into the photos; it is love at first sight. He makes doubles of the photos, later creating a vision board (used as a totem, easter egg throughout series) Wally's World lol The Ascended Masters The Psychonauts The Bampheramphs (& Mothafuckin' Bampheramphs, Respectively) The Insomniacs (& Pasquallians, a secret sect of magicians, sorcerers and alchemists, seers and mystics carefully selected as keyholders to ‘The Secret Gates', a secret interdimensional transit system hidden beyond VIP (VIP+, VIP++, VIP+++, and VIP (+/-) which actually contains an underground city, a massive classified compound which exists between cross dimensions, allowing for shifts in the timespace continuums and temporary constructs of reality adjust by a mastery of manipulative conception, a complete control of energy--even allowing for such things as matter to appear, disappear, The Toxic Avengers, Traveling across the Multiverse to Avenge the annihilation, assassinations, and massacre of The Infinite Skrillex {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.
Listen to Victor Davis Hanson and cohost Sami Winc discuss the latest news: taking down Elon's X in San Francisco, the dangers of diversity and inclusion in Canada, news from the border, the defense of Kamala, and Devon Archer's testimony.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
SUBSCRIBE | COMMENT | SHARE our YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCmWFlAZD09D0siXlvCcFBaA All things Soul Palate:https://www.deestilled.co/soulpalate Find The Line-up:https://www.seelbachs.com Tasting Line-up:Rhine Hall GrappaRhine Hall Plum BrandyRhine Hall Cherry brandy Rhine Hall La Normande Brandy Rhine Hall Reserve Pear BrandyPosts Featured on this episode: Shitty Habitshttps://www.instagram.com/reel/Cpy_fG9j3e6/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==Another Karen spotting in NYC https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsT-1AtrbJD/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== The people trying to kill off Jamie Foxx https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsLL_uJJ-I0/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== Lynae's Gun Violence Conversation with the VP https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsMQrTXJZ_L/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== Jonathan Majors & Megan Goode https://www.instagram.com/p/Cr6nt5yPCFR/?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ== Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/soulpalatepod https://www.instagram.com/deestilledhttps://www.instagram.com/kapri.possible https://www.instagram.com/drinkseelbachs/TikTok:https://www.tiktok.com/@soulpalateFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/soulpalate
The OC has chosen his Queen. We joined our houses in Blue Ridge GA recently. I have spent some time on the TAT lately and planning more trail time out West this summer. I am glad to be back behind the microphone.#treadlightly #leavenotrace #leaveitbetterthanyoufoundit #packoutwhatyoupackin #domorethanyourpart #optoutside #adventureisnecessary #explore #usforestservice #ouachitanationalforest #pisgahnationalforest #cherokeenationalforest #nantahalanationalforest #talladeganationalforest #deltanationalforest #chattahoocheenationalforest #podcast #overlandpodcast #overlandpodcaster #podcasteroninstagram #adventurepodcast #podcastforoverlanders
The Rangers were shutout in game 7 last night to the Devils. The Rangers season is over and Boomer said somebody has to pay the price. He said there was no ‘screw the Rangers button'. The Devils wanted it more and the Rangers showed little effort. They were shut out twice by a rookie goalie.
In this episode, we'll explore the world of incompetent criminals and bizarre legal defenses.First up, we'll tell the story of two burglars who made the mistake of stealing a live-feed camera. Unbeknownst to them, the camera continued to record and track their every move for days.Next, we'll turn our attention to the courtroom, where we'll share the story of a lawyer with the most unusual defense for his murder suspect client. trial.Whether you're a fan of true crime, legal drama, or just absurdity in general, you won't want to miss this episode of " Bumbling Burglars and Befuddled Barristers: Hilarious Tales of Dumb Burglars and a Bad Lawyer” So grab your favorite beverage, sit back, and enjoy the ride.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
Please join me and My Special Russ Hedge, author of "Befuddled? Live the Life you Choose!" Russ is a Keynote Speaker, Marketing Coach, Business Consultant and Livestreamer/Podcaster. He is a positive force in today's busy, hectic, and often negative business environment. What you will learn today in this Live Podcast is the following: 1. How to market your business across social media platforms? 2. How to get rid of "trying to make it throught the day" mentality and develop a positive mindset ? 3. What is the right way to network and connect with ideal customers to build a community around you? Russ loves to encourage, inspire, and make people smile. That's why he is known as an “Inspiration Specialist.” He has been married to his beautiful wife Leah for almost 34 years and has 2 adult children, Kyla and Connor, and a daughter-in-law, Gabby. His goal is to add value to people by encouraging and helping them live a more engaged and positive life. Tune into this Episode of Stand Out & Grow to learn more! Find all notes at www.standoutngrow.com Find adBidtise Properties at: www.adbidtise.com www.10xbusinessbroker.com www.hashtagsocialbuzz.com www.linkedin4yourbusiness.com www.katherineramirez.net Please take a moment and review us so more people can find our podcast. Thanks in advance. Kat You Got This!
Valerie Macon calls Fuquay-Varina, North Carolina, home. Her poetry has appeared in Kakalak, Whispers, Vision & Voice, Red Clay Review, Visions International, Clockhouse Review, Poetry in Plain Sight, as well as numerous anthologies. She has authored the following books of poetry: Shelf Life, Sleeping Rough, A String of Black Pearls, The Shape of Today, and Page Turner. She writes for Suburban Living Magazine.
Three artists preform the same spell with entirely different intentions—in some dimensions. [Muffled thud] What's the wish? These, three. Burning daisies, are we? No, just Dandelions. Separate them. The hearts?! All of them— —Spirit I swear to God. —don't// ‘Skrillex is my Spirit Animal'. —and, Soul. What of the flesh? It will wound and perish but will not bond or be bound to death, until it again becomes as One. What is THIS? I honestly-/ Honestly!! Honestly thought, this was a movie about: —Skrillex. —Dillon Francis — A S Ū P E R S T A R DJ [ARTIST] ...okay… Ooh, good alternate. The Womp WOMPING Willow will beat your ass into believing you are— whatever it tells you, you are. DJ. NO. “DJ.” NO. NO DJ. NO. NO—DJ. I don't think D.J. wants to be a DJ. Nobody wants to be a DJ. Shut up D.J.—you're a D.J. Too—you Motherfucker!!!! MOTHERFUCKER!!!!! [hey motherfucker—Timmy trumpet] aww, poor PJ Lol. Poor Billy. B.J.—the DJ I don't like this sign. It looks bad. Take it down. “BJ THE DJ” TAKE IT DOW— CUT TO: DJ?! That's the Fuxking WORST. AGHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHH!!!!!!!! IM NOT A DJ!! “Not a DJ” You— SUPERSTAR DJ SKRILLEX HUH. EVERYBODY ELSE HUH. —Skrillex—the world's first “SUPERSTAR”DJ” NUH - UH YAH HUHHH! NAH AUGHHHGGHHHH!!! UH-HUHHHHHHHHH!!!!! AGHHHHHH. AAAAAAAAaaahhahgahhahahhahhaagghhhhhhhhhhhhhh… [go to sleep.] SKRILLEX Nherr. —?? THE WOMP WOMPING WILLOW *voiced by Valee, Jermih MEGA DJ —WHAT IS THAT?!— Oh no. Don't do this, I didn't wanna. (Crying) I don't wanna He really don't wanna. So make ‘em. —- So. So. He's going to college— Yes. Is this a joke___? Is it? IS IT? ...mmmm...nope…. As part of his prison sen— Yep. For Mass Murder. Yep. SHUTTHEFUCKUP— [does.] Jesus Christ, what is his power? JESUS Don't ask me. Only he knows. Only he knows. HE DOESNT KNOW. But she does. Okay look. What. Look. ‘Skrillex and Supacree Scrap turned Barroom Brawl' ...no. “NO?” [Looks: it's bad] Imma have that ® Goddamn it, don't. Don't do what Make that face. Agh. Or that one. Ufff. This is a scuffle. Who let him in here. They beat the shit out of each other, with bass, and bassball bats. I thought it was theatrics! Insomniac has incredible production value!!!! [brutal Bloody murder] Bass heads: AGAHAHAJABSNAKAJAABDKSMA SNSKAOZJSNSLALZKS—- #All that. Kenna & Kel? Yeah broh!! Live Set?! yah broh!! SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE SET ooh, what's this. BITCH. [LIZ LEMON] PICK UP YOUR SKRILLEX. *obnoxious super drunk fart* (Especially, for a woman!) Hey/-! You can't say that! You can't not say that!! WHAT DOES EQUALITY MEAN? gross man farts— FLATULENCE GREATER-THAN, Stop this joke. OR EQUAL TO Okay. —SKRILLEX!!!!!!! Get out, now. I got it. —- Ext. Boston, Massachusetts. Day SUPACREE [A / DJ] ‘SKRILLEX' is an extraterrestrial entity which manifests variously through specific forces, subjects, and beings. Though masking her true identity, CC STONE, the chosen secret identity of the mysterious SUPACREE, has been in hiding, though knowingly under conspicuous monitoring. SKRILLEX uses telepathy, as to remain intractable to the extent of normal human capacity, or even the most advanced technology, to continue evading the various government entities and agencies seeking to study this ‘intangible energy'. Having become a guiding force and ‘imaginary friend' of SUPACREE, masquerading as unassuming and low-key traveler ‘CC', the pressures of dark forces arise in the form of hostility, which SKRILLEX combats quietly, most recently, silently. After decoding a specific series of dream sequences projected post-consciously, ‘CC', wrought with anxiety, contemplates secretly relocating, anticipating more terrorism from her own home country; She begins formulating a way to escape further being targeted secretly. TImelines begin intercepting, as NATALIE from DEATHWISH is contemplating jumping from the 6th story of the same apartment building; CC/SUPACREE considers this, but focuses on a positive solution more diligently, meditating. Upon returning to her studio, CC begins cleaning and, although she's only just finished eating, begins preparing another meal to eat; As the energy moves around her, she begins to move automatically; now fully aware of SUPACREE's shifting abilities. She submits in silence, sighing in relief as a greeting. SKRILLEX Listen to me. CC I'm always listening. SKRILLEX I am leaving. CC pauses in silence; The room is grey and empty; Then, she remembers something. ‘The Skrillex Project' was intended to be temporary. | Oh please, there is no Skrillex. Of course there's a Skrillex. No, there isn't. There is, you're just limited. Of course I'm limited; look at this. Look at this place! What happened here? This is it, since it...shifted. Shifted? What the fuck does that mean? The polarity. "Polarity" ? --And, that planet is off of its axis entirely. Entirely? Are you just repeating everything? "Everything?!" This is ridiculous. It is. Skrillex is Ridiculous. Say that three times. No. Do it. No way. Just say it. No way, man, I'm not summoning Skrillex. It was your idea. I changed my mind! Pussy! I was just kidding! I didn't think we were actually gonna do it. Come on dude, just say it, just say it! No way. One of you say it! No way! Fuck it, I'll say it. NO! Fuck that! Oh, fuck you guys. It's not like it's going to work, anyway. It might! And then what? Nothing's going to happen, I'll prove it. Skrillex is Ridiculous Skrillex is Ridiculous Skrillex is Ridicu--- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. The lights come on, the boys stare at eachother in confusion and disbelief; the sound of loud footsteps as someone coming down the stairs enters the basement they are gathered in. Sonny, only slightly startled, unassumingly looks up at the group of preteens, and seems for the most part unbothered. Hey guys. The boys just stare. Oh my God. What? You're Skrillex! Yeah but-- RUN!! Three boys from a separate dimension have caused their own "nonexistence"; in their own reality, Skrillex (which can literally be an ambiguation of anything, If everything is everything and so forth) does not exist, and his his actual existence is thought to be fictional, historically misrepresented, or inaccurate--being told as an urban legend How long after the first scene is this happening? Well, I mean...I don't know. Well, we know these kids come from SIR; Technically, but I think this happens before SIR has been established, since upon returning home, they all know Skrillex is real, spreading the story among the skeptics and being exhausted after Skrillex, looking for somebody stumbles through their dimension and gets trapped in it, quickly gaining a global cult following,coining the term "Skrillex is real", eventually leading to Skrillex, Isreal. Which I guess makes sense. It makes sense! The neighbor kids again? Yeah. ____ Get this: they changed the word "slave", to "employee"; bit it still works the same! Oh man! And I mean, they get paid, but they have to pay their wages back to basically the same companies the money came from… You're kidding. I'm not. I wish I was. This is fucked--(up) This is fucked up. I mean, the people on this continent aren't even eating, so I mean. Woaaaahhh, whaaaaat. I know, it's the whole place. But it's mostly this "United States", it's full of baby rapists and run by these... white supremacy people, and they raise cows just to make “steak”. Woah. Right? And the slaves just take it, they pay for everything they make! She's gonna be so mad when she sees this. Don't tell her. We have to; they just planned an entire pandemic, and it's entire purpose-- What is Purpose? --in this country, it's currency. "Currency?' what is "currency"? The Legend of SupaCree follows an involuntary “hero” on her adventures, after her powers become unlocked; Now, she must join forces with the other DJ's to Save The Rave. _____ SupaCree refuses to tell anybody anything. (After Pre-edc scene) oh dude, that's a lot. It is a lot. She still hasn't told her mom you're “Skrillex” Ugh, no. And she makes me shop at K-Mart every time we go over there. You got that at K-Mart? It's nice. Yeah. Where did you find a K-Mart? ______ Where is “Earff”? _____ Bampheramph training is considered complete once the trainee “stops crying”, thus begins the official recruitment process, which includes but is not limited to reaching various ‘extremes', which differ by context. ____ Every red cup is just Another broken heart, Another broken dream, Another broken record, Playing on repeat … … … Wheres my Skrillex? Which-- So, Skrillex… You can call me Sonny. ...Skrillex... O...kay… [She squints suspiciously at him and jots something down in her notebook.] ____ So, do you use Serato, or Rekordbox? Neither I just [Demonstrates] What the fuck does that even mean? It means you can [Demonstrates] 1____1 How is he doing this? Magic. I'm not going to fight for him. Do you honestly think this is happening to anybody else? Maybe. Honestly? Infinite. Infinite Skrill-- Infinite fucking everything. I'm not about to try to explain it. So what are you going to do? I don't know. The worlds gone mad she is, but she's not a man. She's trapped in a casket Can't listen to the map And can't imagine he'll ever come back Jag parked, smogs bad and she has a plan But can't get past the magnet Magic has its way of making things go crazy Why don't you just--& Oh what? Have my people call his people? Something like that His peopl I had a dream About a tent About a temporary tenant This christmas, its Resentment, Tension And whatever this is… Oh yes, "This is Skrillex…" wayward Hey. Hey. So, uh. So. What's wrong with you? ....what? What's wrong. Whats...wrong? --With you. SupaCree summons Skrillex. Skrillex. Stop it. Fuck you. Skrillex. Seriously, stop You stop. Skrillex-Skrillex-Skriooex o Oh no Just stop. In the parallel where… SŪpAcree has become a disastrously egotistic and diva-like superstar, we see she is in this world, outwardly bitter, rather angry and despondent, having learned to capitalize best not being herself. A young intern helps to prepare an event; His trainer, an astute and rigid stage manager, after finishing a series of detailed questions about the theatrical performance and it's various attendees-+ leaves the intern alone for "just a minute" handing them her clipboard as she hurriedly rushes elsewhere. The intern scans the clipboard, flipping the front page over to reveal a hidden note. Taking the initiative (trying to be assertive in the newly appointed position), asks nervously... ...And what about Skrillex? Who? Skrillex. Who the fuck is that? Its...Skrillex. Tell me who that is. Uh… Go ahead. The intern stands, frightened at her anger. The stage manager returns. _______________ I hate this shit, it isn't fair. It isnt Wheres my phone? __ Woah. You did all this for Skrillex. Pretty much. Yeah. I guess. Yep. Wow. Okay. You would. (I did) Burn it. What? Fuck that! Ughhhhh. No. Sonny/fictional skrillex: Do you know why ai put you in this fucked up dimension? Me: WHAT? YOU DID THIS? NO--WHY--?? Sonny: So you could get your shit together. Me: well, that's fucked up. S/FS: I DID NOT think it would take this long Me: well, how long is it supposed to take? S/FS: I don't know… Me: ...well, how long does it usually take? S/FS: So wait; You guys from the future-- Fathomable future. Uh-huh Have seen the show? Yes. My show. Mm-hmm. / Well then, how does it start? ----------------------------- I already told you, no. Yes. I'm not going to Skrillex. You have to go. No. What the fuck is NO. I'm not going. WHAT? What. You have to go. Who says? We do. Okay. Okay. [beat] Who the fuck are you? OOH, ARE WE STILL BLEEPING OUT THE SKRILLEX? Yes. Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny Sonny You so Funny Funny Funny Funny Funny Funny Funny Do you Love me Love me Love me Love me Love me Love me Love me I'm so Ugly Ugly Ugly Ugly Ugly Ugly Ugly And I'm nothing Without you Was this a song? Probably. Looks like a song. Seems like a song to me. Nobody should ever hear this. Define…”nobody” The Song has become a number 1 hit radio sensation. What the fuck is my life. What the fuck is your life. I don't know what the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuuuuuuck . Speak of the devil— (Terrified) what? Dillon Francis is here? What? No—it's just Skrillex, he's just...here to collect. What?! What, dude—Skrillex is your plug? Uhhh. For what? Where else am I gonna get premium space bass? Aaahh Gasp I knew it! I knew something about you was really Skrilly. Hella Skrilly. *doorbell rings* Ok, no Skrilly in front of the— He is magically just, suddenly inside. In front of the what? The two stand starry eyed in amazement. ...hey… X2: hey… Should we step outside? Oh, come in— —I did. I see that. (Lol )Right in He did that. He always does. This...transaction is private. It's fine. You guys are alright—maybe—breathe a little— —large gasp, has not been breathing since Skrillex...what did he even do. He like, apparated No—apps—no. There's no fire. He didnt apostate. Alright then, teleport. That silently? Yeah, I mean teleportals also are like: —actual teleportal, which is a huge, very not quiet, black hole like vacuum with lots of colors, lots of light— Oh. Well, how did he get in, then? He shifted. “What the fuck is Shiffted!?” The SupaCree and The Skrillex share these commonalities: *S13 (13th power ) —- Dude! I got the key! You got the key, yeah, it's one of these. A bunch of keys in a wheelbarrow. Dude. What. The fuck. I don't know! I just know, she told me the key was on the key ring WHAT keyring dyde?! This is just a wheelbarrow full of KE*T! [wheelbarrow full of ketamine] AHEM. *wheelbarrow full of keys!! (He produces a heavy chain which appears to (not really) link the keys together We...keychain. —Meanwhile— God deletes all the Florida Keys—except for one— _________________________ I will not “go” to the “Skrillex Reddit” Go to that place. No way. We are going to the internet for ONE thing—and one thing only. “We are gonna skate to one song, and one song only. BALL SO HARD MOTHERFUCKERS WANNA—“ No. One thing. Yes, I thought it was Skrillex. We never go online for Skrillex. Okay. Not even shopping. Alright, let's go. You don't even know what we're going for I hope he hears this She says “I hope he makes it” And by she, I mean me And I've been prayint for a way to try to say this stuff— Spit it out Turn it up— Woah...okay! Okay what? What are you gonna do with all this Skrillex? Uh… …? …Just throw it out. Throw it out!? Yep. Why would you do that? *Shrugs* Don't need it. Don't need it!? Yeah, I just said that. Are you serious? Yes. Throw it out. No way. If you're gonna do that…I'll take it! You want it? W--Fuck yeah! For what? I don't know. I'll think of something. Okay. Yeah? Yeah...whatever. Yes! ...okay….Just--come help me lift this. “The Great Big Book of Skrillex” This...is just an Encyclopedia. ...you bought encyclopedias? I needed them for my library. ...you have a library? It isn't finished yet. It isn't...finished…? Not yet. They're installing the elevator. There's an elevator? Of course there's an elevator; it just doesn't get to the library. Yet. I meant— Come on. What did you do to my house ? Well, after I put the fire out— What fire? The main one. —there were, of course, several smaller fires— What The Hell? And now there's just that one. A fireplace? When did I get a fireplace? Well, I needed an easier way to get in and out. —where does it go? Out the chimney. —wait, did you just say “in and out”? That sounds good. I wish they had a vegetarian menu. French Fries? Uh huh. Is that it? I think so. —Meanwhile— GIVE ME ALL OF YOUR SAUCE. Ohhh, get ketchup. Sorry, we're out of ketchup. Out of ketchup? Yes. Okay, can I just have special sauce then? We are out of sauce. What. Every sauce? All The Sauce. GODDAMMIT DILLON FRANCIS. I hope this isn't like the Skrillex thing. We're still under the limit. Kick it. Obscured by a plume of misty light gray clouds, an entire city is enamoured and mystified by a mysterious force, as The Skrillex lands on earth, from deep space. __ Ah, it's gonna be like this again. “kliptown empyrean” Kliptown with a K-- Ooh, lets move to Korea Town! Wait. (bass) ___ ___ ___ ___ Remember the birds? I remember everything. No, you don't (hey) I remember everything. (Hey) That's great What's this? A wedding ring What's a “wedding ring”? Let me explain. Hey, I just might be a writer Hey, This happens every day-- This makes me crazy. Hey, This is the time and place What is “time”? Let me explain. Hey, This is what being a writer means; It means the typing comes out lyrically and everything is rhythmic; but recitation makes interpretation Different Oh, I get it; It's blank. No names, I'm saying Anyone who wants to say the line can say it, If it makes sense. __ So, you're telling me; I can go anywhere in the world… Yes. Anywhere in the-- Paris. I'm not quite white enough. Nobody cares, it's-- 10 karats. Delicious. No, it's--karats, it's a measurement. Why would you bring melatonin to this event? I have problems sleeping. Why would you fall asleep at a RAVE. Why? I'm still sleeping. I'm still needing attention; Why didn't you just leave me? Just leave me! Just leave! Just-- Adjust. ...have you seen this? What is it? It's a galaxy. No it isn't. It's about to be. No it isn't, it's just-- “Let's blow this popsicle stand” MOM!!! (((WOW))) What happened? I don't know, it just ended. What do you mean “it just ended?” It did, it just-- MOTHERFUCKER! What? Well, here come The Men In Black... and Skrillex. (Ohh, I get it.) ((You should get it, you're the one writing it.)) Oh shit, did you just say Skrillex-- Yeah, Skrillex-- Did someone just say-- DON'T say it again. Please. I gotta go. Go?! Go where? If he's here, i”m late-- Late for WHAT? Your set is in 10 minutes! No, it isn't, it's in 9. (It's Twelve, actually) This isn't it, is it? This is it. Then where's Skrillex? Skrillex? Skrillex!!! GODDAMMIT. S Ū P A Skrillex gives me angina. [SKRILLEX = ANGINA.] I —And vertigo. S Ū P A And now, vertigo— and I only recently found out what that even is. ME I'm so sick of Skrillex MYSELF —Sick of Skrillex— I I hate Skrillex. CUT TO: SKRILLEX SKRILLEX: ...okay, fuck this. S Ū P A C R E S Fuck this motherucker! SKRILLEX; Fuck this job. S Ū P A C R EE I— HATE HIM— SKRILLEX —I hate this. S Ū P A FUCK THIS SHIT. SKRILLEX ...fuck this shit. S Ū P A I AM OUT. [SKRILLEX just leaves.] -!!!- THE END. I love what you did with the tectonic plates. Thanks. And the bubonic plague. Well, you can't just throw poop in the streets. Humans! ___ Skrillex?! Wait, seriously, Skrillex? We have Skrillex. You do?! Of course we do! Don't be ridiculous! Skrillex. Skrillex is ridiculous. Skrillex is ridiculous, yes. ___ Skrillex and Dillon Francis fight for the win, as they battle for their "biggest fan" and vets*bets are placed to see which 'body of work' is completed first. BODY OF WORK. I said. That--that's my entry. So. It doesn't matter, anyway. I've got more scenes. Of course you've got more scenes, it's more cost effective. She's got a sick business model. Oh yeah, where's this 'business model?' It's at your mom's house. (Good, she's very organized) (Yeah, I bet.) (...how much?) -------- Skrillex is ridiculous. Skrillex is ridiculous, yes. ___ Chak Chel, I'm almost done with the list-- Then where are you? I'm...on my way back, I'm just having a little trouble understanding the last thing on the list, it just says - Skrillex-??? Yes. Like...the person? Precisely. ...what do you want me to get from Skrillex? Just go get him. ...and then what? Bring him here. What! His head springs up toward the sky. Looking directly "at God" You want me to bring him to you? I don't think that's a good idea! Of course it's a good idea, Dillon. It's my idea. What the fuck. Don't give me your fucks right now, I don't have time, Dillon. Just go- How am I supposed to explain this? One thing at a time. [She hangs up him; he looks at his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and dials a number.] Hello, you've reached Skrillex; We are reviving more calls than we can answer at this time. Your call is very important- Please hold, and your call will be answered in the order it was received. Soft music begins to play. What the fuck. Your estimated wait time is: One hour and, fifteen minutes. The music resumes. …wow. He places the phone into a holster over the dash and programs his navigation to a location on the map, (Later) >>you had ONE job. I had a lot of jobs, actually--i was even a firefighter, at one point-- ONE JOB. That was a long list! Why do you ask? This man, who is he? SUPACREE has been procrastinating telling SONNY anything about anything; However, Everything is Everything. SUPACREE Listen, Skrillex told me something-- SONNY Skrilllex?! You talked to Skrillex?! Where is he?! SUPACREE Look, I don't know exactly. But it said SONNY It's a “he” SUPACREE ...he said--and I mean like like, really really clearly-- SONNY What'd he say? SUPACREE “I am leaving.” SONNY ...He said that? SUPACREE That's what he told me. SONNY I knew it. SUPACREE Wait, you knew?! SONNY I always knew. ...what part is this? I guess this is the part before we go into that whole backstory? What whole backstory? Which--backstory? How Sonny met Skrillex. Oh! Wait, wha--? THE END ________ J3SŪS Pïzz∆. The Diva SupaCree and the Egomaniac Skrillex are the worst possible combination of people possible. [Note* Because she has gained worldly powers through weath and fame, she has no Spirit magic, making her cosmic creation ability react randomly in heightened states of panic,anger, and tantrums--whuch often result in the uncontrolled (and unexplainable, mostly) accidental shits through time and reality, usually working in her favor, however feeding the fire which continues to consune her soul with the worldly evils of capitalism. A large dark and ominous karmic justification, less of her actions than by her attitude, is set in place to manage her habits, resetting her on the path to saving humanity.] This version of SupaCree is overly confident, sometimes pompous, in love with herself (even in the mirror, as her Omnipotence and awareness grows stronger in the other bodies of her collective conciousness.) Being enabled to do whatever she wants, she begins hosting large scale productions, flaunting other the top and sometimes nonsense "showing-offs" , even going as far as to hire an entire lineup of the worlds Top DJs just to watch her preform, giving 3 VIP tickets away to another concert, where they are escorted from yo her set to preform as spotlight artists, after having insures that they would bomb on stage--beginning as a Rap Battle, where she totes a Golden and rhinestone hammer, which she uses as a prop--but as the cosmic power from within acts with intention the hammer takes on a life of its own, controlled by the telekieisi of the princess through another dimension; after the hammer eliminates the X and Dillon Francis, Pasqualle (actually Dillon Francis) is spotted out in the front row, and ousted as a time unraveling fraud of conciousness, then transforming into a gavel, this beginning the judgement of the above-ground portal of punishment, as it plunges the party goes into dungeons and alternate dimensions as The Diva SuoaCree and The Egotistical Skrillex basically battle to the eventual death of thousands instantly, as they "beat the fuck out if eachother with bass" collapsing the mainstage and sinking through a giant Rabbit Hole as the San Andreas fault line begins the apocolyse as depicted in 2012, Arriving in Hell, creating a second stage inside the Rave Cave Satan Created--where they have the CRAZIEST raves. While the battle between good and evil has officially begun, as the intergalactic space race to locate the planet at the exact right time space, era, and age becomes reckless, creating voids in space, creating a now expanding outward compressing inward collapsing contraction, the Multiverse and it's ever expanding realms are collapsing and colliding as reality shatters, a concept concivable by the extra terrestrials of advanced conciousness and evoked evolution--but it's hell-meets- heaven on earth as portals between worlds, basically, the best, most horrifying lazer light show in history, allowing fictional characters and science fiction to become reality,as worlds collide into one. The humans trapped in a eaveless covid 19 are blissfully ignorant, raving at home--meanwhuke the world, while also fighting a war where literally anything goes and everything is everything, as the laws of physics or any science ever apply. The occult magicians are at an advantage, able to harness the magic of the changing alignments, as the Ascended Masters plans to move the planet, keeping it out of the Global Government pact between the Intergalactic Planetary Waste Management and specifically The United States, as the evil Government--the same that launched the multiple attacks on both the Original Cree, SupaCree and The pSupaCree, still hatching plans within it's branches ran by white suprimisests and cult leaders or religious and prestigious organizations of protected traffickers, drug lords, and other evil rich people who continue to work towards the irreversible, certain and complete death, from which she cannot ressurect. The certain death SupaCree results in a I TOLD you she would be here! No WAY (At Skrillex) Whose that guy? WOOOOOOAAAHHH. ...Did you get it? After this, we're done--right? No more of this sh- Did you get the Laptop? *Sighs* Yeah, man--I…Yeah. It's right here. Good. None of this is "good", okay--this is the total opposite of "good", this is *not* good. It's ruining her life. You agreed. I didn't think it would go this far--I mean--Everything? Everything is Everything. Where is it? ...it's...here. *sets it down on the table* K. Now get out. (He puts his hands up mockingly) yeah dude, I'm out. We're like, good, right--? Like, I don't need anymore bad karma-- Oh, now you wanna be "good" You know what I meant. This is fucked up. She prays for you. Maybe now she'll realize she should be praying *to* me. *Befuddled, over it* Alright dude, good luck with...whatever…Just...Don't call me anymore. When have I ever called you directly? Just don't. He walks away, bursts out of the front doors frustratedly. Leaving the lair, Dillon is snatched, scary kidnapper style. Trying to reach the plug; it goes to voicemail, then immediately recieves a text. Sorry, my schedule's pretty hectic. I got class all day and then I'm going out of town. Ok. Sorry love. Damn...now what am I supposed to...huh Later Guy: well, I don't have any of that here, but what about this? He pulls out a Skrillex (after we are introduced to the dimension where the Skrillex becomes a popular device--but much like a googleflab (from Rick and Morty), it has many ambiguous uses. her eyes light up, as the Skrillex begins to glow. Oh...that…? Does it bother you? ...um… Go ahead. I...uh...I can't. You can't? Well why not? I just don't...really… Skrillex anymore. Why not? Everybody loves Skrillex. ...Yeah. C'mon. Try It Out. (Oh, God.) (('Oh God' WHAT? I'm busy.)) (((Go, quickly, please.))) I think...I think I'll skip that. What, are you trying to be a nun? ...Uh… Angel: you'd be a terrible nun. ...uhhh... Angel 2: shuttup. Hey. No? Suit yourself. It's here if you change your mind. ...Thank... you. The man walks away, and she lets out a slight sigh of relief. Angel: Don't be a pussy! What are you doing here? Angel: Telling you to STFU. I didn't say anything. Angel: SKRILLEX THE FUCK UP. Wow. Angel: Be a man! I'm not. Skrillex! No. Angel No? What's no? Skril--!! Angel 2: shutthefuckup. Thank you. Angel: what?! Angel 2: Ignore him; listen to me. Acceptable. Angel 2: You need Skrillex. Unacceptable. Angel: what, why? What is wr--(ong with you?) Angel 2: shhht! Look, this is important. Who sent you… ? They point "up". You're going to have to be a little more specific than that. Skrillex first, specifics later. Nokay. Both: NOKAY!? I don't--do that anymore. We know, look--just--youre not thinking clearly right now. I need you to focus. Focus how? Janie didn't even pick up the phone, I haven't heard from her all summer. How am I supposed to focus without-- Skrillex. Stop it. No, that's Fisher. Both: Shuttup. No, you Shuttup. Both up you shut the fuck-- ! Say it again. I'm past that part of my life. Technically, your Death. Yes, so let me rest in peace, please, without Skrillex. There is no peace without Skrillex. That makes, the opposite of sense. Just--look--its--You want to finish your project, right? I'll finish it… In this lifetime? Oh, now I'm alive--I thought I was dead. Uh-huh. Since when? Since S-- *flustered* Say it again. Shove it. And tell Satan-- WOAH. Simoltaneously Satan!? Oh please, fuck that guy--! You think we came from Satan? Well, Obviously. Oh, honey… Dude, I'm an angel. I have wings! Of course you do. Like Satan doesn't own Stocks at Red Bull. Christ. (Which one?) ((Jesuses: Not it! Jesus: Aha JINX. You owe me a Piñot Ah, Goddamn. God: WHAT did you just say? Jesuses: NOTHING. Jesus: Jinx! Jesus: Aahh--G--)) Christ is right. You got us confused, honey. We came from the other side. To feed me Skrillex? Uh, false. Begone, demons. You really don't--we're trying to help you. I don't need help. You do need Skrillex. You need Jesus. NOT IT. Angel 2: wait, which one? Now you're gonna have to be more specific. I specifically quit Skrillex. Now, leave me alone. You're not alone-- No, that's Marshmello. Shut. Up. Simoltaneously Stoooooopitttt. Ok fine. I guess I'll just-- Jesus walks in I got a call for 'Christ', and then a second one for "Jesus" did you need-- Jesus! Jesus? Oh, wait-- Jesus? Oh my God. I wouldn't bother her right now, she's kind of busy. Bet. Oh, no thank you. I don't gamble. Addictive personality. Christ. Huh, what? What's up? A beat. They all stand quietly (though Ū is the only one visible to the shop owner, who has returned with Pizza. I got pizza! Nice. Oooh! Jesus: Ah, what? I want some…wait, only she can see us, right? Yeah. Solid. Yo, I want a slice of pizza. What kind is it? Whispering to jesus: I don't know! Shop owner: don't know what? Or, what did you say? I didn't hear you. She awkwardly stares forward speechlessly, overwhelmed by the two angels and Jesus directly behind her. Don't just stand there! Say something. Uh. What uh, what kind...is it? Pineapple,pepperoni, jaleneño. Ew. What the fuck-- And we're from Hell? I know Who's this guy? I don't work for Satan, you work for Satan! Jesus: Grab me a slice homie, if I gotta fight the Devil again, I mean--he doesn't look like Satan, but--you never know these days. Really? Make it two. hah. YOLO. Hah. Just kidding. Shop owner: come get a plate. *he gestures to the Skrillex, which glowingly levitates hovering above the countertop, whirring.* You sure you don't want any of this? That? No. That--uhh--i'll just have Pizza. You sure? Skrillex is great with pizza. It is. Jesus: Awh, what? Skrillex? I love Skrillex. *She squints through her sunglasses* The shop owner hands her a plate, she dishes out two slices, as the angels and Jesus bicker beside her; she stands deflatedly, uncertain of her seemily collapsing reality. She presents the plate towards jesus, who looks up from his argument with the angels, enamoured by the Pizza. Jesus: OoOoh yeahhhh. Sprinkle some Skrillex on it. She looks at the Skrillex, which has now started to vibrate and emit a sparkling silver cloud around it. Shop owner: change your mind? No, I just-- gotta-- The Skrillex starts whirring more loudly. She side eyes it confusidely, and shudders. Are you ok? (Echos, until she hears her own voice, exclaiming--) FLASHBACK: *GASP* ARE YOU OKAY? Her eyes widen. I'll be right back. She turns swiftly towards the bathroom; Jesus and the Angels are waiting, cooly and nonchalantly in front of the bathroom doors. As she shoves a paper plate at Jesus, she swings the bathroom door shut-- Jesus: Didja do the Sprinkles? The angels jump as the door slams. Jesus is unmoved, excited for pizza. The male angel shakes his head with a disgusted look on his face. You're a sick man, Jesus. (As he bites into a slice of pizza) hah. Thats what Pontiius Pilot said. Mmm. In the bathroom, Ū panics as she over thinks, sitting on the toilet hunched to think. She lets out a sigh, and as she looks up, realizes Jesus and the Angels directly in front of her, jesus still quite enjoying his pizza. ...Can I help you? We're here to help you. I didn't call for help. Uh, actually,you called me two times. I mean--not *just*-- Are you eating in the bathroom dude? Agh gross… I'm here to answer your prayers, I didn't know anyone had been listening to mine. ...what, dude, you pray for Pizza? Among other things. If I pray for you to leave, will you leave me alone? Prayers are answered in the order in which they are received. Wait, how many light-years did it take you to ressurect? ...light-years…? What?! Oh dang. She doesn't know. Oh, shit--should I have said "Spoiler Alert"? I feel like that's the least Jesus thing you can ever say. Not quite--and not that it matters. I served my time as Messiah. They didn't believe me, 2,000 years later… Nobody believes. Have you read the Bible? Oh, God. Oh, hardly. Oh, please. Wow, okay. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Can [ Skrillex]? I don't think that's a good idea. What's an idea? What would be the point? There is no point,I just want to. Why? It's not as if you haven't already, over and over. It still sounds good. So good you'd really put yourself through how bad it feels? (Like child birth) ((Like Ego Death)) (((Like, Love)) No, I don't know love. You don't? I know what love is. I know what I feel Emotion is the key… How do you feel? Like I want to listen to… What is your favorite album? Specifically, as it pertains to-- Explaining makes it worse, trying to clarify as if you haven't been thinking about it for at least a minute, suggests you know what I mean. What is a minute? A measurement, increments of seconds--60 makes a second. What is a second? I don't know that measurement. I know it's milliseconds, that make up a second,but they're so shirt, nothing really matters. A seco d is short enough. How short? Longer than an instant, but...that's about it. Well, then--whats an instant? Theoretically speaking, the space between nothing and something. So, an occurance of something? Or rather, as something occurs. What happens in an instant? Anything can happen in an instant. Anything? Anything. Like what? I believe, an instant--would set a point at which something occurs, or becomes an instance. Right here, right now Right here! Right now! --right then. All instances, at different places in time. But an instant means,that it happened quickly. Right here, Take a right--on Thyme. I need thyme Instant Sk-- I don't think this is getting better. I don't see it getting any worse. () He's alive was all that mattered fir a moment, but strangely, really, even as this evolves into an almost unbreable soul sweltering-- Soul-swealtering? Yeah. Why that? Because it's not soul crushing. I know that feeling all too well. It's like a. Wait, you can feel your soul? Ugh, yeah. I would hope so. ...what? Or maybe that's The Reason The Reason (Oh please, I couldn't even listen to it right now if wanted to. ) ((Oh, shit I really want to)) (((What was that, even? A panic attack?)) Something. And that's--why I hate myself so much. This sensitivity inside others don't seems to have. That shit hurt. Hurt how? On so many levels. Levels Avicii. Rock N' Roll Well, there's the Straight Razor you've been asking for--two of them, actually right on top of the Bible. Hey, how's that bible coming along? The one I wrote, started in,or Directed? That's… DEEP. (It isn't, that deep.) Hell? The pain. Okay, that shit is deep. Sometimes, I feel like this… whatever is trapped in this body I hate so much, just needs to fly. It really does hurt now, like all the time--sometimes is not as bad--like that panic attack, or a hyperventilation-- Okay, I need to Skrillex. Need? Need? Or, want? At this point, both, think? Why? Because if anything I intentionally set myself spinning was getting to the end of this endless River of-- Elysian Park. The lovers. Pink floyd. Chak Chel's tree. And the animated movie, where Chak Chel was just a "retard, maybe? I don't know" or something dragged along by her brothers who just wanted to party, but end up accidently leaving her and she just keeps time traveling using her magic of nature through water and eventually meeting with The Skrillex when the thing was just a tiny thing that whirred around repeating things and making certain sounds no one would hear for--wait which human era, or where is the thing that came from the Dimisionb where the SuoaCree and Skrillex on the mantle, or the dresser of the Scientist or something who invented these two intricate pieces of alien technology, so artfully and intricately desiged and allinged neatly by the window, where The Skrillex was still sleeping and he didn't even see The SupaCree leaving, alternately it was SupaCree who slept while The Skrillex crept out of the window, gettinng swept up by the giant thing I haven't really even seen, cause it's so big, so big that people just say "wait what is that thing" as it just sweeps the galaxy collecting all these interesting anomolies in space it's LSDream's infinitely expanding vast of bigger-than-a-planet massive thing repeats the phrases from the renegades of light while both expanding and colliding space in time and music side by side and while Bampheramphs and Psychonaughts like Dorothy all collide with other psychedelic fictions of our time which, by the way reminded by the way the Raven's like a writing desk, cause RAven's helping write is and The spider is the plug, a bug and chArlotte lost her mind when in somewhere around Christmas time I sang to silver bells and the vibrations aligned as only time would tell my that I still like to harmonise, and I remember when my cousins in the car who couldn't hear the harmony when we would sing to bars of gospel music, people like to spend their time in bars but I'd just rather look at shooting stars, and stars inside the eyes of drunken stars as I fly, a shooting star as I was stricken by a guy whose name which I refuse to write, but I'd excersise in time with an album that I like, or rather that I love and that's just what it is, I love the man no matter what but wonder what he thinks of someone so fucked up that has nothing someone who has and does everything genius mind mastering magic of music in the least, but I think I just might be obsessed with this celebrity; apparently however, everytime I close my eyes, to pray or meditate, or enter dreams, or take a trip eating anything, actually--just when I do anything it's Sorry Sorry Sorry just forgive me for being me, that's the album that I planned to do one day cause r can double as an n, I've said the n word 37 times, at least I don't know why that number but I hope I just don't have to be this stupid Dillon Francis fan who writes about the stupid things that nobody really watches DJs like I do, but I do cause I used to want to am a I might be a superstar DJ, like I need to be my DJS favorite DJ and the truth detector reads the truth when Supacree finally obliges the bad guys who keep asking who the TimeKeeper who holds the key and I guess that's right on time, as perfect timing binds the Triverse that she is together in the never ending, she'll just keep on searching for her buddy, or her best friend, or her hubby, whatever's possible possibly anything as magic brings about the rounds of tragedy collapsing fabrics planets lands and galaxies, dimensions where ascended Masters have to lead the good to defeat evil, SupaCree reset the balance as she laughs with Dillon Francis and she leaves The Skrillex stranded a galaxy with Sonny, as she sees it, cause she doesn't see--its easier that way, but out of mind he cannot be as she's combined with her devine a d has omnopitient exsistance as she visits with the people of her planet in a distant galaxy after the Apocolyltiic shit that just collapsed and vanish just begins, an intermission and an interview session where suggestions of the clips and flashbacks give the population of the planet, none of which are racist, having given all the bad away to Satan, which is fake because she made it up And nothing isn't nothing, Jimmy Fallon fucking loves it cause it's just a peaceful place where no one else can bother him and now it all makes sense, but it isn't the end because it's infinite, like infinite like "isn't this just a about one thing?" But everything happened in an instant, so the clips could go in any order, or we just delete it--bht she can't delete the Skrillex and she hyperventilates as she remembera something makes something makes something happen if you just change your perception to it had to be a positive then lost as fuck is really on the way to "here it is" and "where is skrillex" is the significance of what it is to be significant...it's intricately vivid and colorful, these visions, it's been just a year right now but Ive been learning from somewhere that an instant here is eternities in other places I have reached And "what did getter do?" Is being answered in the frequencies and I don't really care, I'd rather die then live inside a world that doesn't think a damned creating new things all the time but finds attractive pictures in a screen and scrolls and scrolls to like it and he just might cheat if she looks just like her profile right, but does she ever--all the filters for the catfish, tastes like dirt and nothing's worth it if I work this hArd to barely be an urchen on the giant animal, whatever urgens like to pasaste And I am just a person on the other side of paradice I go through all these places on the westside where I've died a thousand times, I don't know why I like it, that's just my life and I like to like my life, but life's expensive when it's nice and I could write all this and never get attention which is fine but I am writing this and never making money, that ain't right I don't really like the money, I just wanna sleep in side. I don't really hate my country, but I'm a vet that died because I said I'd run for president and someone in the white supremacy movement tried to have me killed not once or twice, but by the time I finally tried myself, they didn't even try to pump mys stomach in the white run republican undiscovered bleeding heart, the state that I was born in, which THe Skrillex digs in record time to find Chak Chel inside the SupaCree and then it flies away as Cree before the supaCree cries as she tried to figure out the how and why the mother ship is on the other side And she can her someome tell her to get inside and wonders how the song sounds like a skrillex set, like he was playing live inside her bluetooth set as she just tries to find it, cause it was her spofity, but sounds like all these sounds from guys that she admires dropping bass in side her mind and he was wasted, more than wasted, more than wasted at the time after she died and he was thrown into the world that did collide, the bird that really liked the boy who shot her and the microscope the scientist is eyeing is the scene in black and white and all this writing might be nothing like the points in any time where I'm just running on like raven does, and satalites find wall e and the SupaCree while dancing And I hate the way I just hate the way I can't get it all the way organized and how would I send it to Dillon or skrillex and what if I did this and get no response not a miniscule anything to the time that I put in the time that I wasted if I'm rally just in a life where my punishment is seeing someone die by my side a thousand times and writing everything I've seen while taking time talking to God and asking just to skate his life, while I've been pleading with the devil that he trade his death for mine and I become a tye died crypt keeper with diamonds on her sythe and I'm a psycho psychic psy-something oh wait, I like psy , but I remember blasting Skrillex out my window in the night the northern lights would dance and sing as I left my volume high in 825 where I was writing things for tv screens just leaving fiending for a cigarette and I get frostbite cause I cannot buy the gloves I need, or food to eat or anything at any time, I give my life to guys like Sketti and see Dammit all the time, and I never even got to tell Feysha fucking bye but just decided I'd leave dubstep on, which no one really liked it's like 09 or something, I don't know, it was another life, the title song I'd write to Vibrate but I didn't know the vibe just might be high enough from playing bass beside the northern lights for universal occurances or the torture that this is for everything I wish to be eventually granted either by death, or by snu snu, I refuse to live through poverty when all of me died in that room where the car where the place that the time where my daughter and son died. I haven't been write ever since. The pain to work another job I hate, not worth it, to stay chained to the ex who made me hate my entire being, because everything was my fault and my fault and my fault and my mom the default resulting in the revolting ball of all the ugly bodies in the world that's just this damaged sack of whatever road I'm on, but it won't be long, now, the monkey said and the monkeys dead and the monkey is me, if the white supremacy guys talking rught--or I'm an idol that might have the thing the world needs, but it can't see cause people have eyes and I just have love in my love and my love is my art is my I just can't get off this rollercoaster ride Scatta I died . But Choppa burned down the whole ride, I only got to ride it once, but it's fine--if he's been in hell since the time of the album where I liked to fly on the luggage carts flying as I'd do a job I didn't like But that was back when I was fine with making nothing for my time Now I'm either making someone that I really really like Or I'm dying, I would love to live If I could live inside. Satan runs my mother from the other side but I am really just my mother, who can also travel time. How'd I do that Oh, I remember thinking that it might be funny to have actor Jallel White arrive in cameos as-- Fuck this. Oh right, the roomba in the room that just Honey, come home please--we are worried about you. Heaven has been calling for while now. Maybe the dimension this makes sense in is in the next realm. That's just it. There is no knowing. I'm starting to get a clearer picture of it. You said the vision was vivid. Which Vision, most Visions are vivid. This is just inside your head. It's all in my head. Occult Classic. Nice. $40 for a long sleeve. You would wear it. I would buy it if I didn't have my pride and $40 I'll apply to something else. Like flying back to the town you said you'd burn down and your ex denies but threatened that the gang he's in will kill you-- That's what you'd like, right? Death, just as long as I die. It can't be suicide, the sin that left me punishing and writing sides for Dillon Skrillex Roiland That's a glib glob So am I. The longest drive that never was, was just hallucinations, right? And Chak Chel's sweat lodge before you found the rock where all the butterflies TH3 D3VILS D3N A deal with the Devil turns into a wild goose chase through Hell, after 'ASCENSION' CROSSOVER: The Ascended Masters SunnÏ Blū Saga Soundtrack: It Father Said,Skrillex 12th Planet Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Much Ado About Sunnï Blū Something Sunnï This Way Comes The Suite Life of Sunnï Blū I don't have any love left Just bitterness See to this, Hear to this This infinite pit I live in is just Limitless, It's endless shit I should just end it I should just end it I should just end it Isn't it time we get rid of this planet Animal magnetism It ends in headonistic and satanic Black magic rituals Marilyn, you fool I see right through you Evil eyes, and all the lies Never nice,. I won't supply you with the times Miss, miss Ms. Mrs. Marilyn Moore, maybe Oh, poor me, I see That'll be the day I bleed That'll be the day I bleed That'll be the day I bleed Into the sink Or into the sea Whatever suits me You just do what you want with your body Do whatever you want with my body, When I leave it, If it's not me It's not any concious being I'm just being honest, if Honesty is the best policy And polished lips is all I see Inheritance is all it means to be free If you inherit anything, You're better off than me If you can catch a man Without a personality Just hang me loosely from a noose Upon my very favorite tree Just tie the noose around my neck Display for everyone to see Just tie the noose around my neck The best of UCLA breeds The fallen angels, wicked saints Tainted flesh, Late postmates, Mistakes and meth to make the grade My love is fading Live is faded Love is blind and Love is jaded Close my eyes, though they are shaded Those remind me of a love I wish I hated I wish I hated him I wish I dated more I wish my name was Moore But Mrs. closed the door Evil sacred magic spells A tainted, bloody wishing well Well, my friends I wish you well If I could damn myself to hell I have I never left this place. The Beginning of The End of The Infinite Skrillifiles. I thought it was infi-- “The Blue Eyed Skrillex” It was weird. Sonny's unborn son travels back from his future and winds up in a... What does he want? To go back, I'm assuming. This scene? Is it written? It might be. How's this? Don't do this. I have to. ___ Oh YES—we were tie dying! Oh shit, now I remember. ___ DR Ya'll. Skrillex is an alien. OWSLA We know this. DR No, I mean-- like, for real. OWSLA Yeah. He is. Wait, Doctor WHO? Exactly. “DOCTOR WHOWSLA” (Lame.) EVERYONE We already knew that. DR No. But I mean, on some real shit-- OWSLA WE KNOW DUDE. Oh. [THE SKRILLEX (A Giant Alien Spacecraft) is Unveiled] What in the fuck sauce. [Siri Plays Duck Sauce] No, Siri--Okay, you know what? I'm not even mad. I love this. [Mini Dance Break-- Suddenly the Skrillex is activated by th--] Ohhh, I get it. Because, remember, it runs on-- Yassssss!!!! What the-- WOAH. What just happened? How'd you do that? I did not! Yes you did! It wasn't me! THE SKRILLEX: IT WAS U. Oh My God. What the fuck! This is crazy! I KNOW DUDE-- Are we terrified or astounded?! I AM SKRILLEX. AHHHH! PORQUE NO LAS DOS? THE SKRILLEX PLAYS ‘PORQUE NO LAS DOS, BY SUPACREE What is this? I love it. [Miniature Dance Break, even amidst the chaos Wait... I wrote this song. Wait--you did? This is you! Damn. That's fire. This is hot. You wrote this? Yeah, but...in the future. Wait, I thought there is no future. There has to be, Skrillex is in it. I AM SKRILLEX. Apparently, this is him. No it isn't! It is him. It has to be. But it isn't. It's him, he's just screwing with it. Who is this kid? What is she even doing here with us? She's going to help us find him. Close...but no. What do you mean? We've had several hundred experts listen-- There are several hundred ‘experts' in Skrillex. Several Thousands, more precisely, in this specific field of study, mind you. I do mind. This is a very serious matter, miss. Over it. I beg your pardon? Mind Over...Nevermind. But I do. *shrugs* Hm. The Audiobook Part II A funny series of chapters, if you can get through the burning tears of heartbreak. (Recorded January 2021) *Trigger Warning* Disclaimer: Sometimes, the truth hurts. Don't Kill Yourself. -LEAKY SPOILER BELOW- The Infinite Fandoms Are Watching Via Interdimensional Cable in Real-Time Live Action. SONNY/ SKRILLEX It wasn't me. SUPACREE Okay, Shaggy. (What the fuck is that supposed to mean?) ((All the DJ's will get it.)) SUPACREE So I guess this is not your sweater. SONNY/ SKRILLEX (Squints, guiltily lying.) No…. SUPACREE Oh, ffftt-- reat. I was only holding onto it because I thought it was yours, and actually gave a whole fuck about it. My mistake, fuck. SONNY/SKRILLEX ...right. SUPACREE So you don't mind if I just... burn it, right--? SONNY/SKRILLEX You wouldn't do that… SUPACREE Um, I might-- SONNY/SKRILLEX DON'T-- SUPACREE Don't what? Light this--not your--but completely random--sweater on FIRE? What might that do? [She flicks the bic.] SONNY/SKRILLEX STOP! SUPACREE Oh. Why Sonny? (Woah, how are these two on a first name basis?) (I told you he did it.) CUT TO: Jesus and his angels also really enjoy watching this show. Jesus has been on extended vacation for quite some time; He lounges carelessly, snacking on pizza in a cloudy, albeit, smoke-filled paradise. Two of his favorite Angels occasionally accompany him, carrying out tasks throughout the inner dimensions. JESUS Ohhhooo, Christ, I knew it. ANGEL 1 He is fucked. JESUS He's been fucked, now he's just done for. CUT BACK TO: SUPACREE Is this your sweater? SONNY/SKRILLEX (Guilty) ...it might be… SUPACREE I know it's your sweater, asshole! SONNY/SKRILLEX Ow! Okay! Fuck! [The BODYGUARD steps in.] CUT TO: Most DJs have interdimensional cable, and take guilty pleasure in watching the series unfold, sometimes working themselves to manipulate circumstances in the favor of the desired outcome. DILLON FRANCIS Oh, this Is getting W E I R D. ALLISON WONDERLAND It was always weird, now it's getting good. DEADMAU5 He is so fucked-- CUT BACK TO: BODYGUARD Hey,watch it! SUPACREE (To Bodyguard) Watch It? You watch it motherfucker! [The BODYGUARD steps back cautiously.] SUPACREE (CONT'D) My bodyguard will eat your bodyguard and--!! BODYGUARD Oh man…. FOUR TET Is that really your sweater? SONNY/SKRILLEX ...yeah… CUT TO: FANDOM How did she get his sweater!? CUT BACK TO: FOURTET Dude! How did she get your sweater? ON INTERDIMENSIONAL TV: How did she get his sweater?!!! SONNY/SKRILLEX I don't know… (I know how) SUPACREE Yeah Sonny, how did I get your sweater??? How did I do that? SONNY/SKRILLEX I--don't know! You probably stole it from my house! SUPACREE I don't even know where your house is! SONNY/SKRILLEX Google knows where my house is! SUPACREE GOOGLE KNOWS WHERE EVERYONE'S HOUSE IS. FAN She has a point. In the reality where it's a live-action, realtime gameshow: {DING} HOST A POINT! SONNY/SKRILLEX WHY ARE YOU SO OBSESSED WITH ME? SUPACREE OK, RIHANNA. {DING} HOST ANOTHER POINT! CUT TO: ARMIN VAN BUREN is watching in literally every-possible infinite dimension, via a multitude of flatscreens, within his megaship. ARMIN Damn. CUT BACK TO: SONNY/SKRILLEX Your references are outdated. SUPACREE Well so are you. Here. [She tosses his sweater at him.] DILLON FRANCIS (Leaping up, distrubed) What is she doing?! DEADMAU5 (Sipping soda smugly through a straw.) Woah, she loves that thing. SONNY/SKRILLEX What? I--I don't want it---keep it. SUPACREE I don't want it. Take it back. SONNY/SKRILLEX No! SUPACREE Okay! [She flicks the Bic, Lighting the Sleeve On Fire] SONNY/SKRILLEX. Are you STUPID? SUPACREE No, worse; I'm SKRILLEX. {DING} HOST THATS A POINT! Well, That's III. CUT TO: ALICIA KEYS is a guest star on one of the infinite television shows in which this takes place; She reprises her classic song on stage in front of a live studio audience, as the events are projected on megascreens behind her. ALICIA KEYS This girl is on FIRE!!! SUPACREE So's that sweater, isn't that significant, or something? SONNY/SKRILLEX Oh, shit--yeah--Hey-- [Emptiness] Then: A Portal Opens. The Audiobook Part III Copyright Protected by Writers Guild of America, West ‘Thieo' makes his final wish (for his truest and everlasting love) to his appointed Acceded Sorcerer; but there are trials he must endure and obstacles to be met before his wish come true— C'Esmett— A warrior princess raised to rule is on the brink of going rouge, after she is betrayed by her betrothed —her calling to become queen is imminent; yet she must overcome boundaries set by tradition, facing the powers-that-be to strengthen and master her own. Her ancient knowledge, ascended sorcery, and intrinsic healing mysticism— amongst other gifts of nature (a seer, fortune of truths; being of light) Into The Future A Divine Psychic's Reaffirmations of The Reflective Premonitions from A Life Lived Infinitely There's no doubt that I have been unbreakably and unbearably tied to the future which I once foresaw, and still oftentimes do with the reminders of each lucid love once set in place as a code, a language spoken between those of us in this realm, and those ascended beyond the duty of this existence. Though names continue to blur and confuse the true presence of either's auras. I've come to believe almost to a point of knowing the connection between myself, Dillon Francis, and Sonny Moore—Respectively and as a conglomerate the latter mentioned a fluid and translucent reflection of myself in every sense that all he is up to this point is all of what I am, and also am not. Though careless now in my regards to that of what may actually happen behind this point, there are broad visions of certainty pertaining to the realm of infinity, with the extended knowledge of what has already, and what will happen, if allowed to be so. Still, careless in the overall outcome, I can only help to wonder which circumstances I have received not in the energetic form of thought or imagination, but in the broad and astral cosmic visions of what lie ahead, as I have finally come to gracefully l accept and respect my very psychic sensibilities. Annie's just another body Men like bodies I'm just another heart, but Men like bodies We are both broken, but Men like broken bodies Broken hearts are just Impossible responsibilities Irresponsible possibilities I'm not Annie I'm not Claire, Not Marilyn Not Supacree Not Skrillex...or, Sonny Not anybody that has to be Something or anything For anybody's anything I'm nothing nothing Nothing nothing Nothing nothing Nothing nothing Sorry I'm Amy My baby, he Drops the album, goes on tour I'm crying on the kitchen floor But I'll be at the bottom Of every bottle In the eyes of every model In the smile of every dancer Behind every mirror Today and tomorrow All this impossible Irresponsible, improbable Honorary God-awkward Opera of songs is Converted to a catalogue I'm sorry I bothered Don't knock, if Opportunity comes, Just rocket. The Audiobook Part IV [Scary Monsters and SupaCree] A Living Lion; The eyes inside, I smiled, declined to act on impulse He'll admit, She's less complex, cause she's basic Everthemore complacent, blatantly lazy-- and crazy adorable. Whatmore could any man want? Whatmore could any man need? Whatmore could any man have; But the best friend who needed therapy, Several Plastic surgeries, A fading glass menagerie-- If she knew what that means. (Basically, they're both nobodies.) ‘What on God's awful green earth makes you think I would ever want anything to do with either of you two Losers? Beggars can't be choosers. His plan B was Annie; But she was never like me Enough to be Happy with Sonny; Let alone anybody. What is happening? Do you have an explanation of what's happening to me. Every realm of reality and possibility. This is infinity. What is this all supposed to mean to me? You can see everything and nothing; You can be anything. So what would that mean? What does it mean to you? That Love is Love, then. I've been half of a wide-open bleeding heart, Since the Goddamn start of it. He started it, Or someone did I didn't ever ask for it I was only ever always on the dancefloor when it mattered. I was always looking past him, but not ever looking at him. It was always just at random, but i'd never thought to ask him A question, Or to greet him-- I just. Adjust. They're watching us, from above. Adjust. They just don't trust us. Adjust. Look what we've done, look what we've done to the planet that gave us all the light that we come from. Look, there. It appears to be ‘shimmering' What exactly is happening? The entirety of its surface is Auquous. Oceana. If i learn all the planets, In the everlasting galaxies-- And learn how to explore it… I just might get to Skrillex. I might fully need a Xanex bar if I ever see this kid in person. He's olden than you. By like, a minute. Still. I mean, really. I don't think this is ever going to work. It might not work, I mean-- What? If you had to actually-- Oh God, no; I'd be far too nervous. So what are you going to do when it comes time for festival season? Run. Hide. Run + Hide. Fight or Flight; A Natural Response to Skrillex There is no natural response to Skrillex, because it's unnatural. Be civil. I am I ‘m trying to figure out how to protect this species. Oh now, you're acting as if he's not human Of course he is. But i'm not. Of course. All it is, is science, a bit of misunderstanding. Experimental sorcery, possible exploitation. I'm not exploiting Skrillex. No, he's exploiting YOU. No. Wake the fuck up. No. (Stop repeating yourself) Wake up; you're being manipulated. By Skrillex? Cool. By whatever's manipulating Skrillex. Alright. Alright? You're part of a machine. So? “SO?” You're this comfortable having given your soul up to the devil. I haven't done that.
DIPLO/THOMAS YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME?! SUPACREE THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS. DIPLO/THOMAS MAYBE TO YOU! SUPACREE I AM YOU!!' DIPLO Reveals The Seer's Stone. Oh, SHIT, Dude. Where'd you get that?! What's this story. No, don't go in there. Oh, look, a story— I told you this was going to be a long night. I was knocking back preworkout at 8 PM exactly, far out of sight from Travis Apple but not entirely out of mind, it was a personal feat to walk into the gym anymore, let alone by his desk—my spirit seemed to have other ideas at an occupation than I myself had formerly thought, but I was at clever best being dissociative now as I was ever, something springing from within me to be let loose, and though it could be, I thought my best to tame it. Professor Zimmerman It's you again… It's always me. So it is. I found something peculiar in a playback of last night's stream of the observatory— (But) How peculiar? Peculiar enough that I thought you might actually take interest. Touché. — I am dead. Oh fuck—he's dead too?! How'd he die? Let me guess—a drag race. Good guess, but no. Was it murder? It's always murder. Now, now, what's this? Don't touch it? What is it? —touch it and see. Ewhe. That's what I thought. Ketamine. Ketamine? Ketamine? Damn; are those two still doing drugs? They're alwYs doing drugs. That's semi-believable. Anyway. Was it a heart attack? Bingo! This is a heart attack! GODDAMMIT, YOU TWO—KNOCK IT OFF. Sorry— —sorry, mom. PROFESSOR ZIMMERMAN is looking through a telescope. Professor Zimmerman! What? What do you want? —my name in the history books; particularly and more specifically for discovering a previously unknown planet and it's inhabitant species. Fair. I meant— —professor Zimmerman— What do you want, from me? It's not entirely unrelated, I promise. Don't make promises you can't keep. Why would I do that? I don't know why women do what they do. That's sexist. It's honest. —no, to just—assume that I'm a woman. [an awkward silence; professor Zimmerman looks up from his studies to examine the short, rather stout, and particularly androgynous student before him] Oh, uh— [beat] I'm a woman. [in relief] Oh! —It's okay. Still, [disgruntled sigh] —it was sexist. Ugh! Anyway— 1.00 mile 10:17 Deadmau5, album title goes here I felt horrible for Brandon, who was eagerly giving his all—but by now physical attraction meant far more than too much to me, my sex drive climbing seemingly by the minute, and my own physique shrinking down into an admirable average, if not above average, by American standards—excluding of course, the Californians, by which standard I was still morbidly obsese as ever, and might as well just pair up with the likes of Brandon, who may have been equally gifted, were it not for his massive weight—then, it was also a selection of genetic particularities that my drive seemed to be fed by—and between the overall unremarkable appearance, it was the bad housekeeping and general disability to take the four otherwise well-mannered children into habitable people—not entirely his fault, and my own arrogance, failing to mention that by now I had become estranged from my own offspring, giving myself a self-entitled badge of abandonment. So I might as well be nothing. If not a mother, I thoughttrapped to myself—but I didn't think much of myself, besides being In some sort of hell, encapsulated and in my own body. What about him? No, that's—that's deadmau5. Well, he's a man, isn't he?! I wish you would leave me alone. — This is scary. You can't just—back up like that— This is too much light. It's not “too much” It is “too much” So that's it? … (Cont'd) That's it? Oh, I know this one. This one's so good What's this one? “The Liight Bringers” Are you sure that was it? Something like that. No. Something like that. NO. Ugh. I hate this. I hate him. I hate this. You always say that. I always hate it. That's not true. Look. I'm not looking. [she walks away] So that's it?! The Cosmic Owl soars in overhead; He is old, he is wise, and now—he is tired. HE?! I thought it was a ‘she' This is the other sides THE OTHER SIDE? [EDC .5] OH. Fuck. This is going to take forever to explain. Yeah. Where's Pasquale? Where isn't Pasquale? Touche. I felt about a hundred feet tall standing next to Pasquale Rotella, and though I would never admit or mentioned it aflojdfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff There he is. —and though I never would admit or mention it aloud, I liked that he was short, overall—as it made him seem less intimidating; I was, after all, rather morbidly afraid of him, as I was of anything at all, for that matter—anything that could or did have the power to make or break me. And he did. I found him. Where was he? Aha. What? I mean, it's a place, but it doesn't have a name, really. Oh really? What place is that? If I knew, I'd tell you. Tell me anyway. No, let him. Where have you been? Again, an outstanding diecotomy; If I could say the words to weave the space and time between us, Then would have, or even, Rather smittenly, I'd sing them With the Melodies I'm making (Like excuses for the work that I'm not doing) Or the worlds I'm still not moving with the winds beneath my wings— The wind beneath my wings. What the fuck is this? I don't know. In the end, we are nowhere Sleepless and still and tight Maybe we shouldn't fall asleep Saving what was left behind Standing outside the chalk outline Beside ourselves in time The only thing I want, is the last thing I need Awake and sleepless as stars shine What the fuck is that? You know what?! Stop asking me! WHATTHEFUCK IS THAT? I STILL DON'T KNOW. Let me see. It's a— Let me see! It's a planet. No… It's a planet, and I'm telling you it's a planet, and it's orbiting a star that's bigger than ours. That's a lot of speculation. That's a good eye— It was annoying but it unwelcome how often I had to stop and write, I knew by now if I didn't write what was in my head right then, it might take such a long time to come back around, even if it was good, that by the time it did, it would be out of context. There was nothing I could do to really save myself, or stop myself—and so I let it happen, and while most people were stopping to text, I was in a way, talking to myself—or even, my highest self. It was too late to find anything good to eat until the next morning, but my appetite had been a ravenous and unstoppable force, swapping out hat should have been a healthy amount of sex with a questionable amount of food. Lest not I forget How deep in love I would be, or How deep in love I was, once, Or will be, once I depart this In the wake of wonder, Dreaming, Slipping not into a silence— There I was, at the end of it, Remembering; Never had I once thought What was just a long lost song Becomes none, Or all of my cut cloth Fuck this nonsense. It's not—nonsense. It's a lot of nonsense. It's definitely a lot of something. — Don't shapeshift into my cat anymore— —don't tell me what to do. Don't do that. It's gross! How is it “gross” It's—my cat! I love cats. Stay away from my cat. DON'T TOUCH THAT CAT. is that a euphemism? NO—just— Lol. It is not possible that meowingtons is still alive. I mean, it's possible, just not probable. — Damn! Fuxk! This is a long ass story! So tell it then. I mean—how?! What is that thing, even?! Ku//Ka Well, that's it. What. I quit. You can't quit. I most certainly can quit. — You're going to risk your entire career on this thesis, My entire career is this thesis. Listen to me. You know I valbue your opinion. Well, then listen— —but I value your scientific contributions more. Just trust me. I don't trust you. Then you don't trust yourself. [she leaves the professor in a hollow silence; he lights a cigarette] I hate that she does that. — We probably shouldn't be using this equipment, guys. What?! Why not?! I don't care. Its—really old. 10 26 I don't care. What the Fuxk is this I think they're coordinates. To fuckin—where?! — WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? What the fuck is wrong with you!? Nobody quite knows. You're so clever. You're an idiot! I'm not an idiot. I'm a doctor. You're a fucking idiot. I'm Dr. Idiot. Your entire career It's a job. It's your career It's a profession. But, professor Zimmerman Doctor, Zimmerman, now, technically. You're an idiot. I'm running out of synonyms. I had tenure. — 9h my God, just PLEASE stop writing! But if ibstop writint l, you dont exist. Qcrually, i exist either way. Not 5o me. Ita a conceprtional universe. It you can think of it, it exists somewhere! Oh, damn. Yeah. Like damn damn. And the more you write rigut now, the worse it gets For me? For me! The Evers, Who What When Where Why and How. WOW. I know! I just now mafe that connection. These guys are my favorites. Who are they? Cut to: A young, brown skinned girl points to the top of a bunch of pinnaples, and shouts, My brothers! Her mother, pulls her in another direction, explaining sweetly and softly, No silly girl, those are pinapples! She picks up the girl, who latches on around the womans neck and sets ger head down over her sjoulder, staring at tge pinapples as she is carried away. She stares longingly. __ Sit down. Is there any Chinese left? A fortune cookie. Ah, that's good. I walked in locked in; Pistol cocked, and pointed towards my head You'll only want me when you have no options left, Or when I'm dead “It's clever” They all said An ambitious endevour End this life, and be devoured By the miester and the misters of the hour How about now? (Or–) How about Now, or How about Now, or How about Now? Or, How about now, or How about now, or How about now? Or, How about Now, or How about Now, or How about Now? Now or Never I said “That's clever” or “How about Now” What do you want from me? I lie for a living; A literal drama queen, don't eat turkey on thanksgiving I'm the worthless word for Surface level thinking on this Earth, or Picking hearses with my cursor, Mercenary, Mercury, or Just a Mercer–But not a Mercedes; I'm paid, but I hate paying; Made the game, but I hate playing I remember making hate to be created Just for entertainment– A belated invitation, Now i'll face it, Back to Basic– But she's laced with Masonry; A tastemaker, maybe But she just wants a family, Whatever that means Wow. How about now? Fuck this. Homelssness. I woul rather kill myself than stay alive I'd rather die than fight Don't want to write this: I'm just a diamond pressurized And i might never see the light I'll never see the lght I see the light There's no honor in suicide But i've devided my mind a million times And now like dynamite in a mine; Collapsed, collided, ad defined by All divine; You'll never see me shine, But deep inside I'd blind you; Guided by the tide, I've come to find you Down, I dive I'm not alive, you know I'm always misaligned But that's beside the point Another suicide attempt Is in the midst– But just what is it; More than just one, is it? Rather die than listen to Skrillex Or take pills just to chill with it For real? this shit again? It wasn't real, all to begin with It's only mental illness cause i'm penniless Now i've got so much to deal with Another wound to heal, Another deal, perhaps I'll make another million in a year, If i'm still here– And i”m still here– And i'm still– Who are you now, and— Who were you then; And— Which part of this, would you want— Or did want, Or just wanted Pondered before in a vision, Outfitted in hooded drapery, The heaviest fabric; A rosary hung from his neck But can't recall the connection In this ressurection I can recall him, But never remember The calling Let's call him Oh, fuck man. ‘Friar Tuck' THAT WAS IT. The high priest of asencion, Was burned in her memory— Not as a friend, But a friend of the enemy; Who she loved and protected, Despite all the envy, She felt for Persephone— Just an unjust figure, A fictional figment of imagination But— Who was I then And who am I now; And what part of him, Would I want, if I wanted Or wished for, Or honored A friend, long forgotten Not a high priest, But a Friar That was it— But before, As Mary, Joseph, and Jesus On the front lines of the war, Not to be started, but ended, as in Preparation, a blood sacrifice I've prepared In a premonition that I'd Give my whole heart again Honest, And honestly slain in the eyes, Of a man I remember, But didn't, when it mattered— Then did, right in front of him Who are we now, and— Who were we then; Let's find out, As time's running out again “Yes, I know him.” She sighed, eyeing from over the rims of the glasses she purchased only earlier to assure she had hidden the tears that she cried for Him— Neither a friend or an enemy, rather The ghost of a shadow she hadn't yet met with again, since he entered her presence Shifting into a tent Now, ripped from the pages of a book she cherished, A page which she promised to never diminish or tarnish would go up in ashes, As totems would fall, Wishes would become granted The PyRAmiD Spell (For Pasquale Rotella) gave gave the man honorary doctorate, and then reneged it, nigga thought he was actually bigger than big sister sick spitter, rip n dip listening to anything but Skrillex that shit is for kids ‘Check it' I hate midi gimmie a synth, something gritty, I'll make it pretty Come and try to get me, I been dead for centuries, Unsolved like a mystery This image don't mean shit to me, I sit to think, I wait to speak, I leak some information on the interwebs just to see how fast it comes back to me I'm actually a master “Untitled 07” It's like a 24/7 job, can't get no rest in, At best you're looking like a slob I kamikaze ‘em all, I am your mom, I will tell you what you are, to me By now, you should know, or see Just a name on my computer screen A friendly neighbor on Easy Street A wish, A lucid dream, A misalignment, so its seems So let me tell you what you are to me: Just make believe (Just make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) It may be evil (Make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) A lucid dream I'll tell you what I've seen, and what I see (and What I see) I dare to dream (I dare to dream) But please believe me, I'm as evil as can be Don't let my anything deceive you I'm a fleeting, bleeding Beaten bride to be No, don't believe me I'm the fire and gnashing teeth they preached to you May everything I've written one day reach you And beseech you, Just like you did to me Now let me tell you what I see; Just make believe (Just make believe) It may be evil (Make believe) Just make believe (Just make believe) A lucid dream When I wash up on the beach, From blazing fires of burning seas, Let me sing you all to sleep For every tear I often weep To dream of you A lucid dream Just fucking make believe; And I can make believe we fucked Just so I can get to sleep (Are you proud of me?) Hey. (Sarcastically) Oh, Come In. (Sighs heavily) I fucked up. I'm not surprised. I'm not surprised. Don't copy me. I need help. No arguments there. Dude, I'm serious. __ So first of all oh God, now what– I'm not racist You're extremely racist Racist By Proxy I'm not Racist They do look alike. Check this out: WOAH. That's…not a coincidence. That's definitely not a coincidence. Fuck. This. Shit. Here, take this. So, you dropped this totem… Uh-huh. In the ocean. Yes I did. And that one Ooof. What about– That came off on the moped. How? When I came off the moped. So you admit it. SO! He only let me ride it cause he wanted to ride ME! Nice. Did you sing to him? Uh, I sang for him? What's the difference? Here's every song I've ever written about X.X Just kill yourself. Should I then? I mean, perHAPS. I mean, maaaayyyybeee. You know what? I do know. Fuckthisshit. Fuck it, then. I'm out. I quit. Go find SupaCree. This…is impossible. Nothing is impossible. Except for that. Oh. “Oh.” No, i'm serious. You look serious–I'm just saying. What is this? Don't touch that– What is it? It's– [a tiny explosion] –ugh. Volatile. What the fuck are you into? I told you. You said “music.” What is “Music” [very deep pondering] I hate you. We have to find her. You have to. What! You're not going to help us? I have other things to do. Like what, dude? Like what, broh. Feed My cat; Your cat died. Walk my dog– You don't have a dog. I'm getting one. Oh, Jesus Christ Don't get all religious on me, now, not after that. Not after what? Yeah, which thing? ___ Man. Get me out of here. [shrugs] I hate being stuck in your head. What is THIS. Uh. play dead. What's up with your dog. Ruff. Good boy. I'm a girl. Uhhh–good girl. Wait. Hm. Did that dog just– [???] Nevermind. I've been up for 6 days straight. Tour life, buddy. Ah-huh. Uhh. Can I take a shower in your– Take a sho–? [dog grumphs] Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks. *Shapeshifts* Wow, that's cool. It's so stupid. I came in late to the office, so to speak; it had been an off day, after an off night, plagued by what I was sure to be some sort of demonic magic—I was moving slowly, off beat, and irritated—nevermind the lack of energy, as I moved about as steadily as I could—making arrangements for the next trials to come, as it seemed nearly impossible to move ahead, and yet—somehow, I had been given what seemed like one final chance to survive, or not. I had spent the first part of my day, somehow waking with a gust of light, and ready to take on the tasks at hand—then quickly wiped of anything holy in me by the outrageously disgusting hacking and howling of the seemingly-programmed man-or-something-alike, and into a manic-semi-conscious desperation to piece together what was left of my life—seemingly nothing, but somehow still pieced and patched together by music, the overriding theme being that I would be quickly booted out of any position unsuitable for me; and by now, I was just about unsuitable for everything, besides gym crawling and throwing together pieces of literature unlike any I had before seen, as I was, assuredly beginning to look in every direction for other writers which may have matched my style of the then-present day and age, and to my shagrin had found nearly nothing to gawk about, but at the very least had picked up some novels noteworthy in nature, as they had made me laugh, or somehow otherwise caught my attention. Now in my Arsenal, I had one novel, each respectively written by a woman, a white man, and a black man—every book I had otherwise been drawn to written by black women were, upon cracking to open, too-stereotypically black, or about being a black-girl in some kind of way I knew too much about and had absolutely no interest in reading. I had no idea what caused me to look into a world I had all but shut out of my mind—this someone and something had haunted me for months and even growing into years now, first affectionately, but now growing into an uneasy and painstaking, critical list for something deeper. I hated my ex husband for bringing me to this, and, as I looked at the clock at 5:55 exactly, nearly vomited in disgust at the sprawling obsession I would have to somehow quiet—as there really was no halting the plague of tragic recouping thoughts of Dillon Francis at random—now, daily, for quite some time, even as the automatic writing had nearly stopped entirely; I had become entrapped with daily reminders of things I had written, now welling up with spite and anger, that I had even allowed myself the obsession to begin with—especially after what had happened—or what had not happened—with Sonny, whatever way you wanted to look at it. Now; just left with a burning lust and motion sickness beyond my wildest control upon approaching the matter if it all, nonetheless with peaking curisosity, as he had walked in and out if my dreamscape like a picturesque bandit, even hijacking my own sexuality—now almost didn't want or dream of anything else, and with the un presidented amount of ‘decoys' life had thrown at me—Bruno, the bird speaking man from Belgium with the eyes that burned in striking similarity to Dillon's—and then again with Gabriel, the man who had hired me to DJ in the small cerveceria in Mazunte, who could have been his brother'; a dazzlingly handsome, if not perfect near-replica of Dillon Francis, who, by that point, i couldn't even bear to look at, let alone conjure the spark or touch of romance—even after multiple suggestions that he and his girlfriend had just broken up. I never allowed myself for a moment to believe or think that Dillon—or any of the men I fawned after, for that matter, in reality, a very short list—would ever be settled with the idea of me as a perfect fit; no, I sat in the certain reality that I was cursed, living in the opposite exact of the Allison Wonderland archetype—a woman who I theorized may have been Skrillexed and Dillon Francis'd herself—it seemed to be a pattern of hypnotism I was finally wrapping my head around, and even had learned to respect if not envy: I wanted the codes to create my own version of the worlds I had been spun into—and while I would more than likely never be a light skinned, light eyed beauty Queen; perhaps my own kingdom was meant to be of wit and wealth, rather than vanity. Still, headed back Ibto the desert, I found myself scrolling through open guest lists, excited to take my longtime best friend turned literal goddess club crawling, looking for industry and network connections, if not at least a sex partner that could keep up with my needs, now furiously tearing at me from the inside out—as I scrolled, RSVPing for any acts I hadn't yet seen but had heard of, I found myself trailing off in thought and perhaps looking for something I hadn't realized I would stray into; I knew specifically that Dillon had a residency at the Wynn, and —though I also knew I wouldn't be caught dead at this point anywhere I knew he was, or especially stupid enough to pay for it. Now it was torturous, knowing how regretfully physical my attraction had become—understsnding from my interactions with the aforementioned that I was drawn to Dillon for his features—his eyes, his hair, and everything in his silhouette from his jawline, to his lips and brow drove me absolutely wild—however, I had learned about my very fragile psychiatry from my obsession with Skrillex, or with Sonny—neither of which I wished existed, adding Dillon Francis to the list of fictional characters I pushed further into my imaginary incineration box, where I put everything that not need affect my actual emotions or actions; Dillon Francis, a wealthy and talented, very handsome man—could not exist. I wished more than ever that I wasn't dark skinned, that I wasn't heavy set, that I didn't come with a flaming dumpster full of trauma and baggage that no man wanted or needed, but especially not the wealthy and handsome individuals I had spent very much of the last passing years writing about and fantasizing over, finding it respectably impossible to even have flings or sexual experiences without either of the two most rampant figures of my infatuation crossing into my mind and shrouding me with guilt and shame—and yet, here they were, so out of my element that I continued to agree with myself and the universe that it would be dillusinal to think myself a match for anyone so high-achieving. Nothing I could do or say could shake the fact that despite all my efforts to break through, all it had seemed to do was create a broken down individual, ready for enslavement in the working class just to stay housed—my music aspirations both hanging above me, and somehow fading away into the distance behind me. I hated myself. But more importantly, hated Skrillex and Dillon Francis for living the life I somehow thought I wanted and needed. What is the definitive definition of the word Skrillex? Skrillex: noun...right? What, you don't know? I know! It's...a noun...right? Right. Right--- ---Right! Could also be, an adjective, I guess--i? You guess?! You have to know. I mean--- Coughs ain't shit Skrillex ain't *coughs Satan ain't shit Bitch suck a dick Slit ya wrists On ya pissed off Little ass nigga. A loud, abrupt cough disrupted my focus; I was 5-sets-of-8 out of 8 and just feeling my heart begin to pump, as sweat poured from my temples and my sunglasses steamed “Man, fuck Coughs.” Whoever she was, even if it was just one of my infinite inward selves, this was some satanic shit. Now I hated Skrillex—not that it mattered, and as he was a living legend in computer animated music, or whatever voodoo shit he was responsible for that had sparked an entire uprising of revolutionary artists and producers spanning a generation or more—and I was damned-if-I-did, and damned-if-I-didn't love, like, or listen to him; all of which I did, besides the latter higher love by Whitney Houston, God rest her soul, blared over the gym's loud speakers, as I, more than likely looking just as superficially occupied as any basic broad, scrolling away on Instagram or texting her replicas, jotted down the rest of the thoughts that had nestled themselves in my mind's eye, as the coughing, which had followed me everywhere for nearly four years, beckoned to something—searching for purpose if not means to an end. He had Kayla Lauren, a plastic, streamlined representation of the all-American-deem girl, not to mention a “collective” of other broad women of sorts, probably all inwardly clawing just as I had at one time, for a piece of Sonny's heart, or whatever was left of it, after what I could have only assumed to have been a blood sacrifice of sorts, for his placement atop such a steep pyramid of success. What if, every time someone coughed—someone took a picture? I thought about the millions of hacking imbeciles and inbred, backwards savages who had crowded my ears with the putrid sounds of Satan's show choir, a coughing and excessive hellish representation of how the human race had gone awry; If I had been famous, or on my way to it, I would be burgeoned with photographs, as I had been in Mexico without knowing why or how—people sometimes slinking behind their phones as if to secretly capture a candid photo, I myself, pretending not to be aware of it. Cough cough. Ugh. If every cough represented a fan or something of the sorts taking a picture, I almost reveled in the thought—I would have rather had a million flashing cameras at once than to hear another ingrate hacking up a lung in Satan's honor. I was horrified at whatever Skrillex was, and whatever OWSLA meant, though I broadly showcased the tattoo on my inner-right forearm, opposite of Sonny's—the boy I was sure was murdered by the fame monster itself, as Lady Gaga, though admirable, had blatently called it, or herself, or whatever “we” all were or had been once, or would be, collectively at the beginning-and-end of it all. I had seen broadly into the realms of infinity the night previous, and had settled on one, astonishing fact: all of infinitely combined shared a concéntrical center at which at any point could be accessed. Even typing such a concept, I knew it to be life-altering…if I was even alive. To think, I used to hate deadmau5– I hate deadmau5– You know—after that spat with Skrillex. GO TEAM SKRILLEX!!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! who the fuck is deadmau5, anyway. But here I am, decades later. [skrillex] FUCK THIS NIGGA. I needed something to help offset the damage that was done. [someone coughing loudly] Fuck this coughs bitch! [trying on small clothes] Ohh. [kayla Lauren] [sadness] Aww. [dillon Francis] —well how was I supposed to know he was a— STOP RIGHT THERE! I'm...not moving. Yeah, you're not. Uh, okay? You know why? I didn't ask— You need THIS: What is this. I'll tell you what it is [beat] … Okay—what is it?' ILL TELL YOU WHAT IT IS. — Technically, If I do this every day, I can eat whatever I want— Just eat it. No. But I won't. Well, why not? Too Fat For Skrillex. — [C.C. Arrives in the parking lot to find her car has been vandalized...again.] ...Skrillex did this. On Jimmy Fallon. On Jimmy Fallon. Alright, then, kid—it's your dollar. I'll take “Skrillex Did It” for one dollar. But he's halfway across the world! He can shapeshift! Don't be stupid. What—! He's a shapeshifter, for real. We know! Just don't say it! I saw it. We all have. What the fuck, bro— Where did you come from? I've been here. Haven't we all? That's the spirit. What's a spirit? I'm glad you asked. As SUPACREE walks down the street, a man in the passenger's seat is seen to be the Egyptian God ANUBIS, before shifting back into hidden human form. Which one's that? Anubis, right? Googles 'deities' Oh, there he is: Anubis. Good. What's he want? Whatever it is, that's not what I was looking for. What are you looking for? That dark thing. Which “dark thing”? Flashback: That's inside me?! Flashback to Kite at Bass– UGH! Canyon. That's it. That's what it is. LET ME OUT. It's gonna destroy something. She. She–yes–apparently so. CUT BACK TO Fuck you, Skrillex! Stay over there and be Skrillex with your fucking–models–and you coughs piece of fucking–peice of fucking shit, peice of shit. Oh SHIT, who let him in? I mean, it's Skrillex. Yeah, but who let him near SUPACREE? He does what he wants. I heard that. Fuck you, Skrillex. That sounds deep. I guess so. What even happened? Nobody seems to know. Oh. –Except these guys. Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from?! CULT FOLLOWERS Yes–”WHO” Yes–”WHERE” Uh, okay. SUPACREE Fuck this shit. I quit. You can't quit. I just did. Fuck Skrillex. Ah, shit, here it comes. Go ahead, the worst he can do is cough at me and make me homeless. *loud obnoxious coughing* Do your worst. *more loud coughing* Fuckin'. Satan's pet. Satan's not real! Then neither is Skrillex. Amen. (Cult Followers, In unison.) Amen. [SUPACREE exits furiously.] What…the fuck. Pause. Wait, is this marketable? Yes. How? Cause its Skrillex. Skrillex is clickbait. What the FUCK did he do? *COUGHS* I mean, I bet– Fucking–motherfucker. Fuck. Well, now what? Now, nothing. I'mma go get a regular job and see what the industry wants with Jessica. (((Oh, I think you know what they want.))) ((Oh, God Knows)) I thought we weren't doing that bit. We're doing all the bits. MORTY. JESSICA. Oh yeah. Even better. C'esme't sighs heavily, unamused. My liege. Don't be coy with me. I would never. There are hardly any things left you would never do. If not only because I had done them all; But to be coy, with you, my Queen is neither desire or pleasure. You are clever. At your discretion. I began to wonder if I may have looked as miserable as I was, as even though I could not see my own self, walking about in my day-to-day nothingness, the expression protruding from my face felt as if it might look as lifeless as I was beginning to feel, no longer wholly choking back tears but still moving and barely breathing in the awful circumstance of doing and being–I had felt the light itself slowly draining from my eyes, and even things I loved with all my heart could not in any sense brighten this dullness. I felt Godless, and at the very least loveless, lightless, and without my magic, somehow having lost my soul and my singing voice at once. Yes, it was terrible–something was wrong, and I, without becoming the star I had so wanted, was already washing up. Homelessness drained all of what would have been a magnificent energy all together, left to become someone I wasn't sure I even liked, and seemingly cursed, as most recently, no one else seemed to like me either--still, I almost let myself believe something bigger was at play, or perhaps in the works; I had been relocated just perfect walking distance to the gym, where of course rather than look for work which would only urge me closer to suicide than I had been, I elected instead to spend a majority of my time, crafting my days around getting there for the bare minimum of three hours, but ideally closer to 5 or 6, always aiming for 8 and almost-always giving up not because I was too tired, but because I was drenched in sweat, and something like the discomfort of a wet diaper, just wanted to be fresh and dry. God, Help me with this affliction Pick a clip, Flick the bean, And watch Netflix I'm stressin, wet and undressin This sexual tension is serious Salad, with no dressin I'm the lady in the red dress, and yes I write blank checks, so when I go to Heck, I bounce back like, “Yes.” [YES] No pressure, It's my pleasure; I'd rather be in leather than in latex, lathered up Present, or past but honestly, neither matters; Just give this to Marshall Mathers, And a Dad Hat; AMEN Hey Kids, Lets not say “Amen”, After we say hanuss shit, okay? Today, I'm Eminem, so I can finally find Skrillex, And kill him: My mission is to introduce a new religion to humans, called STOP BEING STUPID. Stop Being Skrillex. Well, Alright Then. [Presses Easy Button] “WELL, THAT WAS-- CUT TO: -__- SUPACREE wakes up from a coma; In a very SKRILLEX, Get out. [He just does.] ...Where's Dillon Francis? ...Dillon Is Dead. Dilon Francis Died. He's...left us. ...Nope. Yes, he is. SUPACREE, I'm Sorry. Don't be sorry. Be Dillon Francis. The Coma--You know---must've-- You know. Nope. Where's Pasquale? Who is that? Oh, fuck this. No, wait, stop! STAHP. Bring Skrillex Back. I never left. You're never there. Here, Tres Leches … Dulce De Leche. You know what? What? NO. NO? NO. __ ALRIGHT, WHERE'S DILLON FRANCIS? Who is that? STOP PLAYING GAMES. DILLON FRANCIS is in THE VOID, trying to beat THE LEGEND of SUPACREE. It's a really good game. DILLON FRANCIS (cracked) “It's a really good game!” GAMERS It is, a really good game. So good, in fact, that when SUPACREE herself arrives, S/He pays her almost entirely no mind. Really, Dillon Francis? ... Really, Motherfucker. DILLON FRANCIS I'm The Captain SUPACREE No, I am. (I AM!) She gestures that she is about to unplug the TV DILLON FRANCIS Don't do that. SUPACREE What? I am (I AM) Don't do it again! I told you, it's-- IN Dillon. DILLON Don't FIN. SUPACREE Unplugs the Set. DEADMAU5 FUCK, MAN. FINALLY. SUPACREE Be Less Canadian. JOEL No, I can't DILLON FRANCIS No, He can't-- JESUS No, he can't. [Beat] DILLON IS SHATTERED, as at the last moment (before the determination of the outcome of the battle, it entirely ceases to exist. Moments of silence pass in infinite tension, before DILLON, looking much like an uncomfortable, overheated, skinless (live) chicken, meets a soon to be boiled crab. OH, MY GOD. GAD/SUPACREE/C.C. That's... what they call me. *coughs* -UGLY!- *coughs* *coughs* GOD. GOD No, not you. DILLON FRANCIS ...Oh, My God. GOD What, Dillon Francis? DILLON FRANCIS Are you SUPACREE? GOD I...Am. DILLON FRANCIS Oh My God--I am too! GOD I know this. DILLON FRANCIS Oh My God! GOD Yeah, I know! Woah, he's Fangirling He's fangirling so hard. Well, wouldn't you. Ask me about IT.” (IS/IT) 3 heads are better than one; This is a a game based on truth; The more you ask, the more you know; The more you know about me— The more you know about yourself— The more you know about yourself, the more you know about the world You are the world. Ī ∆ M Ū. Goddammit! You son of a bitch. She won't watch it I bet she will They know I will He knows I am! I am! Oh, there we go—it's on Get off me! Goddammit, Dillon Francis! I hate you. I hate you BACK! GO BACK! GO BACK! GO BACK–WHEN TO THE WYNN!! Right—! Wait—- Not yet— I know the code. Oh she– she knows what the code is. What did I put it in? I get it, I get it, it's— Not now, then! Not then, now! Not— Wait—- DONT! ...then, I die. The DJ VALET AND THE DJ BALLET THE BAMPHERAMPH BALANCING ACT WITH THE CHAMPION OF RAP?!? ...ohhh, wave dash, I get it… Ū Alright. GOD This is the part where you don't sleep. SUPACREE Oh no. GOD You've been ‘Don't Eating' for like, 8 months now. Now it's time to Don't Sleep. SUPACREE Yikes. Û You can bet we'll have it done by the beginning of next semester. GERALD Next semester's set to not even be in a classroom. Ï Even better. Remote binge worthy media. Excerpt From: “Blū and The Cosmic Owl” ... ...Having found the fallen owl, he glances up at the sky, just as another shooting star flies by. In awe, he stands at the giant animal, who pants in a tragically cry in pain. He sorrowfully glances into the bird's giant eye, crying as his tears spill into the trail of blood, a sparkling dark purple river, streaked with the silver streams of moonlit tears and the golden gleam of a lucid dream; her dilated pupils reflect all the cosmos, sparkling through the three round dials; some sound, which has never heard or even fathomed to be made, a vibration ringing as it aligns with his light, which also shines now through his dark brown eyes; He is hypnotized, nearly full of light in a state of trance as he begins to float upward, levitating just slightly--A SUDDEN FLASH OF COSMIC LIGHT, as the wounded bird, morphs into a matching [humanoid] being, abruptly changing the frequency from a hypnotising lull, to an ear-shattering, soul startling and painstaking frequency. As they both hover above the ground-- still in levitation, he quickly looks down worriedly, then back up at the being--now matching in age, as The Princess, a pretty poised and painted warrior, adorned with the royally decadent white and purple trimmed fashion, crystals and gemstones of the galaxies imbedded into her sashes. He's enamoured and intrigued, less terrified than excited; however her eyes, now changing a through colors of neon light, reflect her terrified and painful confusion, having been wounded with the weapon of ‘man'--he falls toward the ground, suddenly, groaning in pain, then turning into a fetal position from which he cowers in fear under her. A tear, which has formed in her eye, nearly falls; she forcefully reabsorbs it back into her eyes, as she calms herself down, lowering gracefully to the ground. She crouches over him, thinking twice quite literally, before angrily kneeling over him, yielding a ball of fire out of one hand, holding him by his shirt with the other--he cowers in fear, now--his awestruck chased away by the apparent power of this being; she quickly throws her fireball at a nearby bush, lighting it as he glares at the sight slightly stupified by the fire light, which he likes. A splash of water drenches him from head to toe, blasting off his pink glasses and shattering playful spry outlook with a very grumpy pout, as he stands up, dripping from head to toe. She stands, one leg crossed over the other, another dream of water floating in her hand; as he stands dripping, she blasts him again, with the intensity of a firehose pushing him back. Taking awhile to get back, she waits, meditating by the bush as a campfire, as he, still dripping approaches. She looks out of one eye, unassumingly continuing to meditate as he approaches the fire, which he sits by, as closely and cautiously on the other side, trying to get dry. She looks at him from the other eye, calmly sighing as she blasts him with the surprise of an almost blow dry, which she provides by colliding her hands stretched outwardly towards him; the heated gust leaves him looking somewhat like a freshly groomed poodle--his dark brown hair to match his sweet and gentle eyes, by which, his glasses having been blasted off a third time, he notices as he pushes up on the bridge of his nose, realizing he's lost them again--before he can even (literally) think to retrieve them, they float, guided by her telekinetic twisting of her index finger. BLŪ ...thank you... Still unable to form words, she just gazes at him from over the firelight, sternly searching perhaps, for the way to create a translation between her native telepathic ways of communication, or any of the alien languages--she is unfamiliar with this, though captioned in (several, actually) alien languages, we, as the audience can perceive any of the dialogue just to be "english". PRINCESS Why would you do that?! BLŪ What?! PRINCESS What you did to me! BLŪ I didn't mean to! PRINCESS Mean to what? BLŪ Shoot you!? I-- PRINCESS Why would you ‘shoot' an Owl!? BLŪ An ‘owl?' I'm sorry! I didn't! PRINCESS Didn't what? LOOK. [She appears, even still, to be wounded.] BLŪ I--I never-- PRINCESS Never what? BLŪ I've never seen an ‘owl' before… PRINCESS So you just--!? BLŪ I'm sorry! PRINCESS What were you attempting to do? BLŪ I don't know! PRINCESS You don't know? BLŪ No! I just-- PRINCESS You? BLŪ I...just… PRINCESS You… BLŪ I… PRINCESS … [She appears to be bleeding through the sheath of her bodice.] BLU ...Are you ok? CYPHER I: ‘The Coffee Run' This is my job, Like this is your job I look at the jaw I want what you want This is my planet we're on This is is my plan, I got lost in it Maybe I'm wrong, but I'm not You just want a nut with a butt I just want a bud-- [Sample, Dillon Francis: Hey Buddy! (The Coffee Run)] --I'm not your buddy. Ah. Look at that car; I'm on a coffee run at McDonald's How much does it cost? A dollar, one— It's like putting gas in my car, I don't wanna I don't wanna I don't wanna Call Jimmy Fallon to borrow a dollar. It's a coffee run A coffee run A coffee run; You cough, I run You like? I'm fun The west was won by everything under the Sun, Run it This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ INT. SOMEWHERE IN ALASKA. DAY. [Before the initial collision... ] DEVIL Exited for EDC? Ï Are you serious? DEVIL Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Ï Dillon Francis? DEVIL Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Ï Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. DEVIL Why not? This guy is awesome. Ï (rolling eyes) Since when do you listen to EDM? DEVIL I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. VIDEO: NEED YOU, NGHTMRE & DILLON FRANCIS Ï Huh. CUT TO: DILLON FRANCIS arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he is ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. CUT TO SUPACREE What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him, asking "Who the fuck is that?" HANZEL Wvell that's because ze answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Ū Exactly. SUPACREE Oh, please. CUT TO: INT. THE GREAT SALTAIR. SALT LAKE CITY, UT. [SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted.] SŪP∆ Yikes. [She looks down at her [watch, which appears to be a early version of the Synesthesia Panel] it is 7:35.] SŪP∆ (CONT'D) Annnnnd--the night is young… [She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs, She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. ] DIMITRI Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. SŪP∆ Every day is rave day. DIMITRI I wish. SŪP∆ Wishes come true. DIMITRI Ugh, I wish. SŪP∆ Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. DIMITRI Think so? SŪP∆ Know so. Like--know-know… so…don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just...be...specific. [He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance.] SŪP∆ (CONT'D) ...like super specific. DIMITRI ...Specific…Wishes… SŪP∆ ‘Rollin'? [DIMITRI nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat bass house music coming from the mainstage.] SŪP∆ Just kicked in? DIMITRI (shaking head in agreement) Yuh. SŪP∆ Water? [She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immediately [DIMITRI takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front of him; however, his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up to see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up.] SŪP∆ Spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. DIMITRI ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! [He happily takes a stick, as the DJ loops [live sampling] the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown; Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as DIMITRI 'checks' himself, clearly unaware of Supa's Powers.] SŪP∆ Trash. [He enters his trash into the bag, after which, it immediately collapses, as it vanishes.] DIMITRI ...what was...what was that. SŪP∆ That...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. ((( ))) (Magic Isn't Real!) SŪP∆ Oh, fuck, right. DILLON FRANCIS(in the next dimension over) DILLON FRANCIS Is. SŪP∆ Uh, Personal Space. DILLON FRANCIS Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" SŪP∆ Telepathy wasn't invented at all. DILLON FRANCIS Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. SŪP∆ This has been previously established. DILLON FRANCIS I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. SŪP∆ Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? DILLON FRANCIS Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp, just so we can have this conversation--? Which, by the way, I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, Previously...established… SŪP∆ So what's the other half of thAt… was it even an album. Is it an EP? DILLON FRANCIS Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ! I mean, I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know --where the actual DJs...DJ. Behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. SŪP∆ ...k… DILLON FRANCIS Which you're not. SŪP∆ Oh, I'm not. DILLON FRANCIS No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. SŪP∆ ‘Not a DJ.' DILLON FRANCIS Not a DJ. Right. SŪP∆ Not a DJ...with Magic. DILLON FRANCIS Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. SŪP∆ Okay. Not-- DILLON FRANCIS Not ever-- SŪP∆ Oh right, not Ever--s BOTH --a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. SŪP∆ BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. DILLON FRANCIS I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. SŪP∆ So many fans. DILLON FRANCIS And albums. Like, tracks. SŪP∆ Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. DILLON FRANCIS Tracks. SŪP∆ I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DILLON FRANCIS DJ Dillon Francis SŪP∆ Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. DILLON FRANCIS but you're my best fan. SŪP∆ Best Fan! DILLON FRANCIS BEST FAN AWARD. SŪP∆ YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS FAN CAM! SŪP∆ ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON FRANCIS THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SŪP∆ YEAH. [Posing for a selfie, she uses one of her rave weapons (which is, actually just a regular iPhone) spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo created a time warp and intersectable checkpoint in time. She unfreezes the rave.] DIMITRI ...magic…? SŪP∆ Uh--no! ‘magic'. The music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah. DIMITRI trash...brand...bags... SŪP∆ ...yeah... [They continue to dance; she nervously looks over her shoulder for possible alternate versions of DILLON FRANCIS At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--she readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing DIMITRI by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) SŪP∆ (CONT'D) Now, business talk time. DIMITRI Serious face? [She nods adamantly. DIMITRI tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses.] CUT TO: EXT. THE OPEN SEAS. DAY [In a nearby dimension, As SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS continue to battle, they cross paths at sea.] SKRILLEX Nice Dinghy, dude. DILLON FRANCIS It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. SKRILLEX Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. DILLON FRANCIS She's the star of the show. SKRILLEX Not without me. [A BAMPHERAMPH teleportals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, tagging him, BAMPHERAMPH TAG, YOU'RE IT. [He disappears into another portal.] SKRILLEX I'm it. DILLON FRANCIS Nah, you're just “Skrillex.” SKRILLEX That's--all you need. [A MOTHERFUCKER portals onto SKRILLEX'S boat, via another portal, handing him an *object*] MOTHERFUCKER Humility. You need it. SKRILLEX ...I made the HUMBLE remix. MOTHERFUCKER Yeah you did. [THE MOTHERFUCKER disappears into a portal; SKRILLEX unwraps the object; It is a pie, labeled ‘HUMBLE PIE.'] SKRILLEX Hm. FLASHBACK: BASS DROP, HUMBLE (Skrillex Remix) CUT BACK: As the bass drops, the pie explodes; This leaves him covered in a very fruity mess, and a *bass face* CUT TO: INT. OWSLA HQ. DAY MANAGER I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. SONNY/SKRILLEX Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. [DILLON FRANCIS shows up, out of nowhere.] DILON FRANCIS Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… SKRILLEX Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of ‘Everliving Skrillex' is, I'll wait. DILLON FRANCIS My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. SKRILLEX My left sock was 69.99 this morning. MANAGER Why are you buying individual socks--??? DILLON FRANCIS Why are you buying socks in the mornings? MANAGER You're up late, how are you even up in the morning?! DILLON FRANCIS Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? MANAGER Who are you again? DILLON FRANCIS I'm Dillon Francis. DJ- Dillon Francis. SKRILLEX Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all? Yeah actually--He pushed Skrillex off a miniature yacht! SKRILLEX ...What? [DILLON FRANCIS portals them back onto the YACHT SCENE.] *alt* SKRILLEX and *alt* DILLON FRANCIS are still fighting; They are now both on the deck of SKRILLEX's boat, DILLON FRANCIS's mini yacht burning/ devastated by what appears to be a giant kraken in the background.] ALT/SKRILLEX FUCK YOUR MINIATURE YACHT. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS You're a miniature yacht! SKRILLEX Is that US?! MANAGER I told you... ALT/SKRILLEX You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really! You're just…'Dillon Francis. ‘ ALT/DILLON FRANCIS And you're just stranded in the ocean. ALT/SKRILLEX It's okay, it's hella refreshing! UNLIKE YOUR MUSIC. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS You know what--? DILLON FRANCIS (to his alternate self) I got this. ALT/SKRILLEX Huh? [DILLON FRANCIS blasts ALT/SKRILLEX into a portal, which whirlpools him into an alternate dimension; SKRILLEX and the MANAGER look on in horror.] ALT/DILLON FRANCIS Oh God, Finally! DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, I know. ALT/DILLON FRANCIS That took FOREVER. [DILLON FRANCIS rolls his eyes and hands his alternate self a small object*.] ALT/ DILLON FRANCIS By the way-- [He opens up another portal, reaching out just to jump into it, exclaiming:] ALT/DILLON FRANCIS (CONT'D) Tag, you're it. [He disappears into the portal.] DILLON FRANCIS OH, GOD DAMMIT. COMEUPOUTDAWAHTA, S U P A C R E E M I X X __________ SKRILLEX Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. DILLON FRANCIS Suhweeet planet… SUPACREE No! Don't land on that planet! [He lands.] SUPACREE God DAMMIT. GOD I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time. SUPACREE I gave it spacetime! I am time! GOD I know you are, dear. Just be patient. SUPACREE Be patient? He went and put his DILLON FRANCIS all over it. JESUS Let Dillon Francis play with your planet, yeah? SUPACREE What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. JESUS But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. SUPACREE I do know how it goes. I wrote it. GOD How does it go? It goes: SUPACREE --No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. /SKRILLEX No planet for Dillon Francis. SUPACREE This isn't Dillon Francis Land, it's closed. And also Not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. GOD That had a lot of heart, hun. SUPACREE And no Dillon Francis. JESUS Actually, it had a lot of that, too. SKRILLEX Aha. SUPACREE --Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not-that, I'm about to knock the not-that-hot-sauce off his-- /SKRILLEX --mini yacht knocking-- SUPACREE --sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! /SKRILLEX AGHRAHGHHGH!!! JESUS Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? SUPACREE MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. SUPACREE + SKRILLEX FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. JESUS sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. SUPACREE/SKRILLEX It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ DILLON FRANCIS Hey. This is a nice planet. Ū He's gonna be like-- DILLON FRANCIS Like flabbergasted. Ū Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? DILLON FRANCIS Yeah. Ū Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? DILLON FRANCIS --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars). SKRILLEX finds the coupon.] $-FREE MCFURY. SKRILLEX ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! CUT BACK TO Ū Hehehe. EXT. AN ‘ALIEN' PLANET. SPACE THE SKRILLEX Enters The Atmosphere. THE SKRILLEX 'I AM SKRILLEX' S- Sunnï Blū, Ninja Guru Singer/Songwriter Ū- The Anti-Anti-Hero, the Superhero Persona, Ninja Assassin, and Mothafuckin' Bampheramph P-PEACE (Piece, Piece of the Puzzle, Piece of Pie, etc.) Problemo (Exists when too many plot holes and complexities arrive, also “The Pretender”, who just ignores when crazy shit happens, questions all realities (?) Alt+J- SUPACREE, The DIvine Trinity C- (Copyright Symbol) The Original Cree, Alternately Chak Chel, the ancient spirit guide ‘trapped' inside of the Physical Body to Accompany and Assist through magic, rituals, and energy manipulation through music, time space, and all reality which exists within the fathomable and expanding infinite consciousness. (thought to be ancient, however actually originating from hyper intelligent and extraterrestrial existence in the outer realms. Caricatures (“Characters” Based On Various Entertainment Artists Personas, To Be Played (As themselves) S-Dillon Francis U-Dillon Frances P-Dillon T. Francis A-Dillon Flances C-Dillon Glances R-Dillon France Is E-Fillon Dances E-(Fictional Dillon) Francis/Is Pasquale -DJ Hanzel -DJ Rich As Fuck -Gerald -N(E)RD (Pronounced” NED”) Sonny Moore/Skrillex -Hereby referenced to as SS, there exists “Infinite Skrillex” variably throughout the Multiverse, however, Skrillex himself is (secretly) the singular (and seemingly random apparent “phenomenon”) of his kind. A rare and shiny seemingly shapeshifting sorcerer, the concept and use of “Fictional Skrillex” is separated into a multitude of characters, uses and ambiguities explained throughout the series. *Spoiler*, Tying into the Theme of an Ever Expanding (and alternately, Collapsing/Compressing) Infinite Multidimensional, The Term Skrillex can refer the the Persona, or Person as Himself, but alternately is used as a noun, pronoun, verb, or adjective--even sometimes as a profanity, or to be referred to as a “race”. Sammi B,/LSDream/Brillz -Sam I Am (Festival Trip Alter Ego) -I Am Sam (Festival Trip Second Alter Ego) Pasqualle Rotella A nameless, untranslatable into spoken or written language symbol, to be decided. An Ultra-Omnipitent giant (predominately purple, but emanating all colors of the cosmos) Galaxy of Ultra Concious Light Waves, SoundFrequencies, and Own Planetary Solar System, Boasting Stars which rival our own sun. A brilliant Collection of Space Dust (A relative of “Fart”, from Rick and Morty) Evil Pasquale Pasqualle Is Dillon Francis Mr. Rager (Underground Pasqualle) A No-Named Burner and Ultimate Raver, whose domain is the kingdom of the underground rave scene--he detests the mainstream, traveling (across time, as an undercover Bampheramph), Wally (Never started Insomniac, Works At Walmart as Greeter. Never Raved.) In a homage to the second back to the future, U has traveled back to 1993 to create a reality where Google and Insomniac, etc. are owned and operated by SupaCree, skewing into an adjacent timeline in the future where her superstardom and rise to fame begins as a child star on Disney Channel, crossing multiple timelines interdimensionally intersected on the Infinite Grid so complex, it begins to create a disastrous series of knots, loops, and voids, tangled now permanently into the fabric of time. Wally is asked to fill in for his coworker in the photography section, where he develops photos from a disposable camera and is enamoured by the dazzling magic of EDC captured on camera. His eyes widen as he glimpses into the photos; it is love at first sight. He makes doubles of the photos, later creating a vision board (used as a totem, easter egg throughout series) Wally's World lol The Ascended Masters The Psychonauts The Bampheramphs (& Mothafuckin' Bampheramphs, Respectively) The Insomniacs (& Pasquallians, a secret sect of magicians, sorcerers and alchemists, seers and mystics carefully selected as keyholders to ‘The Secret Gates', a secret interdimensional transit system hidden beyond VIP (VIP+, VIP++, VIP+++, and VIP (+/-) which actually contains an underground city, a massive classified compound which exists between cross dimensions, allowing for shifts in the timespace continuums and temporary constructs of reality adjust by a mastery of manipulative conception, a complete control of energy--even allowing for such things as matter to appear, disappear, The Toxic Avengers, Traveling across the Multiverse to Avenge the annihilation, assassinations, and massacre of The Infinite Skrillex Cinematic Adventures With The Insimniacs Lol ew. *The Insomniacs DILLON FRANCIS hijacks THE BLACK PARADE. What the fuck is this? I don't know. Is he a pirate? I doubt it. No, those are pirates. Oh, shit, pirates. Yarg. Uh, okay. I didn't want to do this. Nobody asked you! Why are you like this? Stop being a little bitch, Dillon Francis— please, grow some balls. I have balls. Grow bigger balls, then. You're so mean. Shut—thefuck UP. Why are you like this? UGH—! SUNNÏ BLŪ is drinking rum again, disregarding the house arrest anklet entirely. YARG! Sunnï, the police are coming! The police are always coming! UGH!!! THEY TRYNA KEEP A BLACK MAN DOWN! [kicks trash can over] SUNNÏ. YO-HO-HO—-*belches* BITCH Oh, my God. I AM GOD. GOD WORSHIPS ME. I'M A PIRATE. You're about to go to jail. Again! FUCK THESE N*GGAS. [sirens blaring; the paparazzi arrives] Warm up my forearms Before a performance Warning: I got warrants Call florance, my lawyer —bitch, yur below me, I'm the only, Blow me You should owe me — OH, that's hilarious. JACK BLACK THIS IS FUNNY TO YOU?! YES. ITS MOT FUNNY. You look ridiculous. Do you know where I just came from?! Uh. Wednesday afternoon church? No! The 60's! Was it racist? YES. You look racist. This isn't funny! You need to fix this! I need to eat impossible chicken tinders. That sounds gross You look gross! You! Fix this! Where are you going?! Somewhere safe before the acid kicks in! You took acid?! IN THE 60's! Okay, have fun Have fun with your yuck-nuggets PASQUALE Wanna hear some tea? …no. CC! It's me! CARMELLA?! —YES—and no! Why are you Pasquale? Who's “Pasquale?” I met this guy at work! What?! Do you like it?! No! What. Did I not do it right?! No—! I mean—yes- but, Carmella— Huh I never taught you what to do with the other person when you're shape shifting into their body So?! UGH-/! No!! Where's Pasquale?! Who is that!? UGH. —- Hey. You came to winco at 3 AM for some Pringle's and franks red hot sauce *sets milk down* And white milk. It's la
In Steve Ditko's final Amazing Spider-Man issue, he goes out the same way he came in, with action, action, action! We've got Ne'er do right Joe Smith, the pound-for-pound worst fighter to ever draw breath... Until he inhales some mysterious chemicals (we think it was jet fuel) and decides the only way to be the champ, is to beat the King of Swing from Forest Hills Queens! If that ain't enough? There's a 1966 20K bounty on our hero's head (that's 200 thousand dollars today)! But we're guessing all of that's going to the gunnies hospital bills! We've got me, we've got you, we've got NO FURTHER ADO! We've got The Amazing Spider-Man #38 Just a Guy Named Joe! thnksfrthmmrs Swingin' Steve Ditko!
This week is dedicated to cases that made us go "hmmm." Possible autoerotic asphyxiation, but with blood spatteron the ceiling? A right handed shooter found with their gun on their left hip? Hypothermia in Florida? Join us to find out what we mean when we say a case is a "Banana Sandwich." This episode contains adult language and content. ~~ Follow us on Instagram: @CrimeSceneQueens Email us at hello@crimescenequeens.com Check out the Crime Scene Queens' CSI Essentials ~~ Crime Scene Queens is brought to you by QCODE. To advertise on the show, contact us! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
On this episode of 'What a Week', Sonia chats about how busy she has been with school and homework, and some concerns she has regarding her current job. Plus, she has some great new music to share!Follow me on my socials:Instagram: https://instagram.com/whataweekpodcast?igshid=YmMyMTA2M2Y=Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@whataweekpodcast?_t=8VR1WADRPpr&_r=1Intro and Outro Music:"Free Range" by Mona Wonderlick — bit.ly/youtube-monawonderlickCreative Commons — Attribution 3.0 Unported — CC BY 3.0Free download: bit.ly/free-range-download
This was emotionally distressing. See you all Monday. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/thesideliners/message
The boys review a tough midweek result for Barcelona as a limp second half leaves them walking away pointless yet again from the perennial German champions (4:13). Real Madrid take care of business eventually with a pair of late golazos that almost guarantees their spot in the Round of 16 (25:52). Plus - we get ready for a big La Liga weekend, as Real Madrid take on their old rivals Atleti (40:40) and Barcelona face Elche in what Payton thinks could be an absolute show for the Catalans (35:44).
It was another rough and ugly match against the Houston Dynamo as Sporting KC settled for a scoreless draw on the road. In spite of countless opportunities, and two shots off the crossbar, SKC never found the final touch. Six yellow cards were shown, but the antics from the Dynamo called for many more. We expect nothing less from Houston these days. Ben Sweat was the best player for Sporting KC. That is a combination of words I never thought would fall together. The usual suspects like Daniel Salloi, Erik Thommy, and Johnny Russell had their moments, but Sporting failed to continue the momentum they had built over the last month. The KC Current are still on fire. What makes them so dangerous right now? We wrap things up with a healthy dose of USMNT striker banter. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices
The D announces Bacon Nation, Tiger-based magic plans die, the city of Las Vegas wants bigger showgirls, Rio is renovating The post FHBM #841: Kicking the Befuddled Can first appeared on Five Hundy By Midnight.
Overview Bill and I met at a writer group - Finish, Polish, Publish - in Cleveland. He has written most of his life, but has had a web development career. Bill talks about his book and working with his daughter. We discuss the group also. Finish, Polish, Publish His Book https://www.amazon.com/Songs-Befuddled-Muse-Divergent-Inspiration-ebook/dp/B09RF78495?crid=14RTRSIBHZEJR&keywords=songs+of+a+befuddled+muse&qid=1659626768&sprefix=songs+of+a+befuddled+muse%2Caps%2C487&sr=8-1&linkCode=li2&tag=discoveredwordsmiths-20&linkId=5cad928c63ffc37fab7733cc84001ded&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_il Favorites https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000SEIFGO?storeType=ebooks&qid=1659627083&sr=8-2&linkCode=li2&tag=discoveredwordsmiths-20&linkId=bd9da9099f08cced27455d91853b1e58&language=en_US&ref_=as_li_ss_il Website https://befuddledmuse.com/ YouTube https://youtu.be/ChcdelVu_Ss Transcript All right, bill. Welcome to today's. Discovered wordsmith. Good to have you on how you doing. I'm doing great. [00:00:25] Bill: It's a pleasure to be here. I've been listening to your podcast and really enjoying them. Oh, thanks. Great. I'm glad. Pretty [00:00:30] Stephen: inspirational. Oh, that was the whole idea. That's what I wanted to get out of it. I hope, and now you're up in the Cleveland area, so we're not too far apart. So you've enjoying the weather today. Oh, definitely. [00:00:41] Bill: Sure, sure. Beats last few days. [00:00:43] Stephen: Yes. I was just gonna say it's a lot nicer today. I got the window open, just a little. Last couple I had to close mine cuz there were trucks going by, so oh yeah. Yeah. That's always a problem, but all right I know you a little bit. We're in one of the same groups in Cleveland, we meet once a month with Dave van horn published Polish repeat or no published Polish. Something I keep getting them confused, publish, polishing, get the damn thing done. Yeah. That's basically it. Yeah. But why don't you tell everybody a little bit about you some of the hobbies and things you like to do in your life other than writing. [00:01:18] Bill: Okay. I'm all born and raised in Cleveland area. Moved away for quite a while. Never expected to come back, came back due to family matters, met my wife. Pretty much stayed. In my spare time there's a few things that I like to do. I like everybody else you have on your podcast. I like to hike, but I also like to kayak a lot. Nice. And more, more just recreationally than going crazy. I have a daughter who's a sea kayaker trains in sea. Kay. I don't do that. Quite to that level. The other kind of interesting thing I do is I've been a photographer for a lot of years. Slipped into this weird little niche of stereo photography. Oh, cool. So I'm doing primarily stereo stills. I belong to local group national group as part of a national group. And it's a lot of fun. It's harder than regular. Photography cuz you have two cameras that are always not going off at the same time. And two, two ways for things to go wrong, at least every time. I ha one of my daughters is an artist. In fact will talk about her when we get into the meat of things. But we do painting parties. That's kind of part of the way we've paid her way through Cleveland Institute of. Wow. So we do a lot of painting parties. My wife is the MC I'm the photographer. And they're just a blast to do. We do 'em on the kind of the valley scene railroad among other places, as well as the people's homes and clubs. Oh, cool. We always say, if you can paint, if you can paint a picture on a moving train, you can do it anywhere. [00:02:56] Stephen: And my stuff normally looks like it was painted on a moving train. So side fit right in . It, it actually improves a little bit with a couple glasses of wine, so [00:03:04] Bill: That's another one of our famous things the more wine you drink, the better [00:03:07] Stephen: you're painting. Yeah.
Tonight's rundown: A new poll says the nation is on the wrong track. But does President Biden know that? Bernie Goldberg joins the show to discuss the media's reaction to Cassidy Hutchinson and the Supreme Court's abortion ruling American pride is at a new low What could Bill and Bernie Sanders possibly agree on? Supreme Court welcomes new Justice and rules on the "Remain in Mexico" policy This Day in History: July 4th Final Thought: Summer weekend tips/Bill's grocery store trip In Case You Missed It: Buy a BillOReilly.com Premium Membership and get "Killing the Killers" free! Click here to watch exclusive clips from the History Tour with Donald Trump Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
5-24-2022 See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
Check it out on Spotify: https://spoti.fi/33Z4VsE Check it out on Apple: https://apple.co/3AHc2DT Russ Hedge is a Keynote Speaker, Marketing Coach, Business Consultant, Livestreamer/Podcaster, and Author of “Befuddled? LIve the Life You Choose!” He is a positive force in today's busy, hectic, and often negative business environment. He is a master connector, working in marketing and sales for over 30 years. Russ loves to encourage, inspire, and make people smile. That's why he is known as an “Inspiration Specialist.” He has been married to his beautiful wife Leah for almost 34 years and has 2 adult children, Kyla and Connor, and a daughter-in-law, Gabby. His goal is to add value to people by encouraging and helping them live a more engaged and positive life. Russ is available to Speak at events, one on one or team coaching, and consulting. He is here for groups looking to be inspired and move forward in life with a positive mindset and purpose. Dreams: Doing what inspires and drives him - helping others. Building his brand online so that he can reach out to people. Writing a kid's book Speak with and be with people. Build community. Travel with his family. How you can Help: Introduce him to John Maxwell - faith and business growth Introduce him to Bob Goff - faith and business growth Develop good habits. Good morning Routine. Contact them at: Russ@Russhedge.com Russhedge.com
Check it out on Spotify: https://spoti.fi/33Z4VsE Check it out on Apple: https://apple.co/3AHc2DT Russ Hedge is a Keynote Speaker, Marketing Coach, Business Consultant, Livestreamer/Podcaster, and Author of “Befuddled? LIve the Life You Choose!” He is a positive force in today's busy, hectic, and often negative business environment. He is a master connector, working in marketing and sales for over 30 years. Russ loves to encourage, inspire, and make people smile. That's why he is known as an “Inspiration Specialist.” He has been married to his beautiful wife Leah for almost 34 years and has 2 adult children, Kyla and Connor, and a daughter-in-law, Gabby. His goal is to add value to people by encouraging and helping them live a more engaged and positive life. Russ is available to Speak at events, one on one or team coaching, and consulting. He is here for groups looking to be inspired and move forward in life with a positive mindset and purpose. Dreams: Doing what inspires and drives him - helping others. Building his brand online so that he can reach out to people. Writing a kid's book Speak with and be with people. Build community. Travel with his family. How you can Help: Introduce him to John Maxwell - faith and business growth Introduce him to Bob Goff - faith and business growth Develop good habits. Good morning Routine. Contact them at: Russ@Russhedge.com Russhedge.com
The series opens with tensions rising between Bloodstain and his new roommate Steve as they argue over the rationality of Bloodstain's one-man war on crime.
Hour 2 of Thursday's A&G: More thoughts on the Kentanji Brown Jackson hearings as she faces another day of questioning from Senators. What is Putin's tipping point? Who won the European Tree of the Year competition? Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.com
Hour 2 of Thursday's A&G: More thoughts on the Kentanji Brown Jackson hearings as she faces another day of questioning from Senators. What is Putin's tipping point? Who won the European Tree of the Year competition? See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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