Podcasts about Goddamn

On this week's episode, the gang discusses Rose Horowitch's piece in the Atlantic on film students who can't watch films. (Goddamn kids, get off my lawn and into a movie theater.) Then they review the first two episode of the new Game of Thrones spinoff, Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. A GOT sitcom? What is this world coming to? (Something delightful, apparently.) You're going to want to listen to Thursday's episode on Melania, I think. And if you enjoyed this episode, please share it with a friend!

Mason hypes Danny up in a time of need, Daniel has the other two predict monopolies, and Danny hosts a ridiculously hilarious round of MadLibs. 

APOYA ✊ :::::::::::::::::::::::: ✔ SUSCRÍBETE PARTICIPA DIFUNDE APORTA LISTA DE DESEADOS DE AMAZON: https://goo.gl/KN4e9X LIVES :::::::::::::::::::::::: EL ABUELO KRAKEN (videojuegos y charlas): https://www.twitch.tv/elabuelokraken MÁS PROYECTOS :::::::::::::::::::::::: EL ABUELO KRAKEN (blog de El abuelo Kraken) - https://elabuelokraken.cc/ MI LIBRO :::::::::::::::::::::::: EL SONIDO DE DÓNDE - PASTA BLANDA: https://goo.gl/2dw11q - KINDLE: https://goo.gl/qiqmeZ Baja cada uno de los episodios/relatos previos para escucharlos en tu mp3 player, smartphone, tablet y/o computadora gratuitamente. LINK DIRECTO A DESCARGAS DE AUDIOLIBROS https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/0B0F9Kqt9_0moV0pKa3pGd0NIUlk?usp=sharing Licencia Atribución 4.0 Internacional (CC BY 4.0) https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.es EL ABUELO KRAKEN RSS (audiolibros) iVoox: https://mx.ivoox.com/es/podcast-obras-literatura-el-abuelo-kraken_sq_f1262889_1.html Apple Podcasts: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/obras-de-la-literatura-con-el-abuelo-kraken/id1071003612 Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/6OXIvlcVY3KYC8s909URvv Amazon Music: https://music.amazon.com.mx/podcasts/2f5578a3-94a1-4863-b9e1-6dbf41a5409b/El-Abuelo-Kraken-Audiolibros Deezer: https://www.deezer.com/es/show/461592 FACEBOOK (audiolibros): https://www.facebook.com/elabuelokrakenfb GRUPO DE FACEBOOK: https://www.facebook.com/groups/elabuelokraken TWITTER: https://twitter.com/elabuelokraken Y finalmente, ¡mil gracias por estar aquí! :D

Today, this is what's important: Lizard people, Frozen, high boys, Winnipeg, history, Thanksgiving, Las Vegas live show, & more. Click here for more information about the This Is Important Cruise Feb 22nd-26th!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It's the end of 2025. After a year filled with sky highs and hell lows, we discuss this year in gaming. First we talk about the Geoff's Game Awards, then we break down the biggest topics of 2025 and then we end on a high talking about some of the best gaming hardware to come out in 2025. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode, I'm unpacking what it's like to come home melted after shooting reality TV, why being on set feels more natural to me than “normal life,” and how somewhere between chaos, jet lag, and a steak dinner alone by the ocean, something in me clicked. We're talking self-trust, quitting nicotine, letting go of codependency, learning to enjoy your own company, and why chasing validation will never hit the way liking yourself does.✨ Listener participation time:Leave me a voicemail at 702-900-6446 or email twndpodcast@gmail.com and tell me:This is The Totally Wholesome (Not Dirty) Podcast — where we laugh through the chaos, talk mental health without the buzzwords, and find a little magic in being human. socials:https://www.instagram.com/twndpodcasthttps://www.twitter.com/twndpodcast

Episode 329: It's the Goddamn Story—Christmas Episode by Pub Theology

God DAMN these gods are horny. Also, come chill with us at our discord: bit.ly/hoppedupdiscord Hosts: Chris Norris, Matt Emery, Mike Parker, Steph Fan, David Beebe Music by David Beebe

Rules of time travel: 1. Don't. 2. There are no rules. 3. Know Yourself One should know how to spot or recognize any parallel, paradoxical, or pro-dimensional version of oneself in the various multidimentional and infinite realities displayed both on and off of the grid in alignment {Enter The Multiverse} THE TITANS and OTHER DIETIES ARE FIGHTING an EPIC BATTLE in the DREAMWORLD —however, the battle is ABRUPTLY PAUSED when their HUMAN COUNTERPARTS in our own PARALLELS are awakened. Oh, so that's why he wants all that rufintinol… EXACTLY! MEANWHILE ERYKAH BADU enters the CHAMBERS. BADU I need candlelight to do what I'm about to do… For I counted— Thrice. And I laid six hands upon her grave; Six times the serpent never faught And so remained my heart as sacred. These people are fucking obsessed with me. Sim: Similar to human force, but not. Subjectively comparative to that of a familiar, A Similar seeks in its nature to exist for the soul purpose of a magician's makeshift (or temporary) parallels), in order to form a bond to which the reality it seeks is material, rather than theoretical. In that sense, a Similar eventually ceases to exist entirely once this task is established and formed a concrete foundation in which this multiconditional energy has an exact route one way or another— such is the familiar or other medicinal artofaxts such as a ‘totem' or poppet, however increasingly more complex. Similar energies are made to look and intuitively co-exist among humans but lack certain conscious or emotional elements, and fundamentally, spiritual energy. A similar mustn't be programmed, however like inanimate material objects, and are instead formed with a sort of energy which is encrypted by the magician itself, by creating a limited energy of oneself which is then for lack of a better term, ‘injected' into the electromagnetic field or aura of such a creature that remains and dwells in the realm of lower conciousness— it is for this purpose that the Sim remains in such that is a shield against energy of foreign nature which might corrupt the making of this primitive or primordial material construct. This energy does not travel and is thus conformed to its stake in the grid of multidimentional plans it is made in. I don't understand. [The Festival Project ™] Come here, cat. Oh, no! L E G E N D S BLŪ looks into the fridge. It is EMPTY. CHAOS I have lots of food…at my house. FINI Ugh, what is his job, anyway? Yeah, what does he even do?? CC If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. {Enter The Multiverse} I hate him! Just golf, would you? I do! I hate everything right now. Just hit the ball! —these are not even your games— Just golf! Goddamn you! —I don't know why you keep playing them! He hits the ball VERY hard. GOD! Finally! —and dragging me into it! Your anger may be making your game better. —and it's Top Golf. I don't see anyone playing these types of bets. He hits the ball. You were right. $10 Dollars. [The Festival Project ™] He is troubled —and she is weeping. BADU With three knives I found my blood; And with three knives I found my art And with three more I severed hearts— And tears remained upon the blade. And on, Their paper was our mirrors for eyes And I became not One, But all or more, And trust upon the world, Her core. The battle has won. I talk to you in my sleep, Therefore I am your fortune My love, I weep to wake from dreams To which we are tied in sacred honor As Divine. At once, my time is come, And though I shake with fear and favor, My making of your fortress shall be mine, In heart, forever. Amen. In all the ways I love you, And yet, cannot. Shatter my heart, For things are blind, And now I covet such as times That trees brought up from seeds grow wise. Hey, somebody— Make me laugh. Mr. Colbert? …your honor. Not it! V.O, The truth is, I don't know what I did at that party. [The Festival Project ™] FRENCH HENCHMAN Be in Los Angeles by sundown. MAU5 …but I live in Toronto. FRENCH HENCHMAN Precisely. MAU5 …why are you asking me to travel on my time? FRENCH HENCHMAN —because I know you're capable of this! MAU5 Ugh. Fine. FRENCH HENCHMAN See u soon. MAU5 Honey! Where's my mouse head? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY It's in the shop. MAU5 What? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY That's what the assistant told me. MAU5 What assistant? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY *Shrugs.* ‍♀️ MAU5 …ur so pretty. {Enter The Multiverse} I heard and hurt that it's a numbers game; I'm laying in my grave, A shallow pool of doom and hatred But I have my name And it is mine and mine alone And it is mind and mind as one And it is time and time again I wish to die But then become another. PARIS TIPTON walks into THE HILTON HOTEL and launches into a RAGE. Not this again. {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW.

Rules of time travel: 1. Don't. 2. There are no rules. 3. Know Yourself One should know how to spot or recognize any parallel, paradoxical, or pro-dimensional version of oneself in the various multidimentional and infinite realities displayed both on and off of the grid in alignment {Enter The Multiverse} THE TITANS and OTHER DIETIES ARE FIGHTING an EPIC BATTLE in the DREAMWORLD —however, the battle is ABRUPTLY PAUSED when their HUMAN COUNTERPARTS in our own PARALLELS are awakened. Oh, so that's why he wants all that rufintinol… EXACTLY! MEANWHILE ERYKAH BADU enters the CHAMBERS. BADU I need candlelight to do what I'm about to do… For I counted— Thrice. And I laid six hands upon her grave; Six times the serpent never faught And so remained my heart as sacred. These people are fucking obsessed with me. Sim: Similar to human force, but not. Subjectively comparative to that of a familiar, A Similar seeks in its nature to exist for the soul purpose of a magician's makeshift (or temporary) parallels), in order to form a bond to which the reality it seeks is material, rather than theoretical. In that sense, a Similar eventually ceases to exist entirely once this task is established and formed a concrete foundation in which this multiconditional energy has an exact route one way or another— such is the familiar or other medicinal artofaxts such as a ‘totem' or poppet, however increasingly more complex. Similar energies are made to look and intuitively co-exist among humans but lack certain conscious or emotional elements, and fundamentally, spiritual energy. A similar mustn't be programmed, however like inanimate material objects, and are instead formed with a sort of energy which is encrypted by the magician itself, by creating a limited energy of oneself which is then for lack of a better term, ‘injected' into the electromagnetic field or aura of such a creature that remains and dwells in the realm of lower conciousness— it is for this purpose that the Sim remains in such that is a shield against energy of foreign nature which might corrupt the making of this primitive or primordial material construct. This energy does not travel and is thus conformed to its stake in the grid of multidimentional plans it is made in. I don't understand. [The Festival Project ™] Come here, cat. Oh, no! L E G E N D S BLŪ looks into the fridge. It is EMPTY. CHAOS I have lots of food…at my house. FINI Ugh, what is his job, anyway? Yeah, what does he even do?? CC If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. {Enter The Multiverse} I hate him! Just golf, would you? I do! I hate everything right now. Just hit the ball! —these are not even your games— Just golf! Goddamn you! —I don't know why you keep playing them! He hits the ball VERY hard. GOD! Finally! —and dragging me into it! Your anger may be making your game better. —and it's Top Golf. I don't see anyone playing these types of bets. He hits the ball. You were right. $10 Dollars. [The Festival Project ™] He is troubled —and she is weeping. BADU With three knives I found my blood; And with three knives I found my art And with three more I severed hearts— And tears remained upon the blade. And on, Their paper was our mirrors for eyes And I became not One, But all or more, And trust upon the world, Her core. The battle has won. I talk to you in my sleep, Therefore I am your fortune My love, I weep to wake from dreams To which we are tied in sacred honor As Divine. At once, my time is come, And though I shake with fear and favor, My making of your fortress shall be mine, In heart, forever. Amen. In all the ways I love you, And yet, cannot. Shatter my heart, For things are blind, And now I covet such as times That trees brought up from seeds grow wise. Hey, somebody— Make me laugh. Mr. Colbert? …your honor. Not it! V.O, The truth is, I don't know what I did at that party. [The Festival Project ™] FRENCH HENCHMAN Be in Los Angeles by sundown. MAU5 …but I live in Toronto. FRENCH HENCHMAN Precisely. MAU5 …why are you asking me to travel on my time? FRENCH HENCHMAN —because I know you're capable of this! MAU5 Ugh. Fine. FRENCH HENCHMAN See u soon. MAU5 Honey! Where's my mouse head? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY It's in the shop. MAU5 What? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY That's what the assistant told me. MAU5 What assistant? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY *Shrugs.* ‍♀️ MAU5 …ur so pretty. {Enter The Multiverse} I heard and hurt that it's a numbers game; I'm laying in my grave, A shallow pool of doom and hatred But I have my name And it is mine and mine alone And it is mind and mind as one And it is time and time again I wish to die But then become another. PARIS TIPTON walks into THE HILTON HOTEL and launches into a RAGE. Not this again. {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW.

Rules of time travel: 1. Don't. 2. There are no rules. 3. Know Yourself One should know how to spot or recognize any parallel, paradoxical, or pro-dimensional version of oneself in the various multidimentional and infinite realities displayed both on and off of the grid in alignment {Enter The Multiverse} THE TITANS and OTHER DIETIES ARE FIGHTING an EPIC BATTLE in the DREAMWORLD —however, the battle is ABRUPTLY PAUSED when their HUMAN COUNTERPARTS in our own PARALLELS are awakened. Oh, so that's why he wants all that rufintinol… EXACTLY! MEANWHILE ERYKAH BADU enters the CHAMBERS. BADU I need candlelight to do what I'm about to do… For I counted— Thrice. And I laid six hands upon her grave; Six times the serpent never faught And so remained my heart as sacred. These people are fucking obsessed with me. Sim: Similar to human force, but not. Subjectively comparative to that of a familiar, A Similar seeks in its nature to exist for the soul purpose of a magician's makeshift (or temporary) parallels), in order to form a bond to which the reality it seeks is material, rather than theoretical. In that sense, a Similar eventually ceases to exist entirely once this task is established and formed a concrete foundation in which this multiconditional energy has an exact route one way or another— such is the familiar or other medicinal artofaxts such as a ‘totem' or poppet, however increasingly more complex. Similar energies are made to look and intuitively co-exist among humans but lack certain conscious or emotional elements, and fundamentally, spiritual energy. A similar mustn't be programmed, however like inanimate material objects, and are instead formed with a sort of energy which is encrypted by the magician itself, by creating a limited energy of oneself which is then for lack of a better term, ‘injected' into the electromagnetic field or aura of such a creature that remains and dwells in the realm of lower conciousness— it is for this purpose that the Sim remains in such that is a shield against energy of foreign nature which might corrupt the making of this primitive or primordial material construct. This energy does not travel and is thus conformed to its stake in the grid of multidimentional plans it is made in. I don't understand. [The Festival Project ™] Come here, cat. Oh, no! L E G E N D S BLŪ looks into the fridge. It is EMPTY. CHAOS I have lots of food…at my house. FINI Ugh, what is his job, anyway? Yeah, what does he even do?? CC If I told you, you wouldn't believe me. {Enter The Multiverse} I hate him! Just golf, would you? I do! I hate everything right now. Just hit the ball! —these are not even your games— Just golf! Goddamn you! —I don't know why you keep playing them! He hits the ball VERY hard. GOD! Finally! —and dragging me into it! Your anger may be making your game better. —and it's Top Golf. I don't see anyone playing these types of bets. He hits the ball. You were right. $10 Dollars. [The Festival Project ™] He is troubled —and she is weeping. BADU With three knives I found my blood; And with three knives I found my art And with three more I severed hearts— And tears remained upon the blade. And on, Their paper was our mirrors for eyes And I became not One, But all or more, And trust upon the world, Her core. The battle has won. I talk to you in my sleep, Therefore I am your fortune My love, I weep to wake from dreams To which we are tied in sacred honor As Divine. At once, my time is come, And though I shake with fear and favor, My making of your fortress shall be mine, In heart, forever. Amen. In all the ways I love you, And yet, cannot. Shatter my heart, For things are blind, And now I covet such as times That trees brought up from seeds grow wise. Hey, somebody— Make me laugh. Mr. Colbert? …your honor. Not it! V.O, The truth is, I don't know what I did at that party. [The Festival Project ™] FRENCH HENCHMAN Be in Los Angeles by sundown. MAU5 …but I live in Toronto. FRENCH HENCHMAN Precisely. MAU5 …why are you asking me to travel on my time? FRENCH HENCHMAN —because I know you're capable of this! MAU5 Ugh. Fine. FRENCH HENCHMAN See u soon. MAU5 Honey! Where's my mouse head? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY It's in the shop. MAU5 What? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY That's what the assistant told me. MAU5 What assistant? APPARENTLY ALSO KELLY *Shrugs.* ‍♀️ MAU5 …ur so pretty. {Enter The Multiverse} I heard and hurt that it's a numbers game; I'm laying in my grave, A shallow pool of doom and hatred But I have my name And it is mine and mine alone And it is mind and mind as one And it is time and time again I wish to die But then become another. PARIS TIPTON walks into THE HILTON HOTEL and launches into a RAGE. Not this again. {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

Don't you see, sensei I'm just as disappointed in myself And ready to die Just as I relay the message, Spray me with your morbid essence Don't, croak, you fool, You've only a spoon ful of sugar left to go The dose is coming up your throat, — you didn't know to throw up Grab the rope and go up Before gravity has crushed your —thought: Stupid boy, you don't want to die— Nor to do, but oh, do we have it coming Silly mortal, overlords and governed, Short of morals, steady coming at your doorstep So goes our concert! And so goes our concept for divorce, And sure of course, Your four corse meal, and/or dessert This is just devastating, genetics made me The sort at sorting words, but surfing, Sure. Ever temporarily the cadence changes, Still they say “you've been betrayed” But never had a friend I made made As good as death and God have been to me For everything you're meant to be, Plus everything you're meant to me, I go, unwanted, troubled and disgusted at my own immortal outcome. Sure. My back hurts and I'm wounded, Heartbroke, Thrust in every cardinal direction Also, honored at the mark of magic wand Upon her shoulder; And so, Just as soon as the sun and moon, Does the fire escape set a perfect path For outward destruction of the bricks and mortar Or your alter (This we talk about, to some effect Is your repression and affective form of supernatural perfection) But forget the makeup; I can make you up to be a star And not of wars and other worlds, But those that come before us, Carson, and the others Paar before that. But, I think not dear sir How wrong you are, A wretched bird, Set not to fly, but O father Wit and relay messages, The passage said, and set to clocks, The past was won and so the future altered, But dear feathered father, Mortal you are not But just another triumph Of my god; And set the mirror to the magnets Camera, lights and action, Magic— All the signs of the dawn, and the mad don Red Dawn came upon us, called the Red Man Tom, from other, over, under Still was my mistake to mumble such Or put upon the tongue As such assumption Still— wonder? Bird, shut up; Love I dusk And lust I soak In all the frittered dust and feathers, Colors, coming up as mister Chuck and wood, and wait and ponder Slithered this to wonder, not a rock, But potted fern, Asunder Thunderstorm And wicked rain And fair the back A tide had come And sitting there upon the shore, Was us, and 12 apostles She's a Brick— Seemingly out of nowhere, A RED BRICK HOUSE falls very perfectly from the SKY and into OZ. oh good, my house is here. House. [the festival project ™] But I don't want to make house! Then play it! I don't want to play house it is BORING. You play it— they want it. But I don't want it. Then forget it! What! Listen kid, a job's a job! {Enter The Multiverse} Wrong, this is wrong— everything is wrong. What's wrong, Rob? I'll be back. ROB LOWE has just played TRUTH OR DARE L E G E N D S if I could get inside your head For just a second Bread and butter Heaven, hell, And other places I have wandered But oh, wonder This is never what I wanted, Was it? No sir. Sure, I set you off, No sooner had you got a gun and shot me. Handsome fucker. I'll bet. Wrong act. Wrong award show. Wrong hat and a baseball bat, Peanut butter and a nice cold cheesecake, Don't forget to order cheesesteak For your cat. A carnivore at odds with the other worlds, And also fused to us; This drifting back and forth Between the Rock And Hollywood Has got to stop. ((The world is toxic.)) the legend of… L. JONES It's you! BLŪ AH, crap. L. JONES Listen, I got something for you. BLŪ Where did your bird go? L.JONES What bird? CUT TO: Now open that. No wait! It's a trap! THE VAULT inside THE CRYPT at 30 ROCK has been opened. I keep looking down at my phone As if I'm expecting a phone call Or incoming message from God But the worlds to a song Are all jumbled up in my Concious I don't want to talk about it I feel Nauseous Everyone is being obnoxious Even my own blood I don't want to function I just want some French toast crunch For lunch Nostalgia I got a whole inch taller on the peloton Holla Now I got a body, Broader, So close to Broadway But I never go there That's a tall order Of “gotta have money” I mean live theatre It's fine I'll eat here And repeat these things till they just rhyme Line them all up like a context, Story Someday I'm gonna cut my own check Watch me lol none of this rhymes without a hard Brooklyn accent ; Guess you can't hack it! Send you ass packin! I said “That's whack son!” Then I went back blonde Now they want Backend, Contract, Off the top, Royalties Residuals I'm an individual with insidious syntax And yet I'm ridiculed Truly I'm a tit-for-tat Or particle of all you are Circular centrifuge, I trickle down your tentacles (Eugh) Choke the chicken just to give the cat a chicken bowl, Chick fil et and pret a tair just to get a ritual Espresso and a quick snack So I can get my dick wrapped In chocolate and licorice because the shit is edible Damn that I guess they set a damn trap By putting out the welcome mat, Then strapping Like a mothafuckin' straight jacket Matter fact, I look a nap in it, Then magic tricked the slip effective Compliments of Michael Jackson Or was it tech nine? Maybe I should get my Mind right I lost it once I guess I've better find it If I am, in fact, A diamond in the rough It's probably blooded it up enough That you should dig it up and shine it; Better yet, Somebody outta pick it up And sign it, Cause I write enough To put a vision To a blind man It's Fran Fine, man I'm behind, man The shadowgov had put me on a diet My bad I noticed that they tried to shut me up But couldn't stop the words or other stuff That just keeps coming out of my head I put coconuts as butter onto my bread And thinking thoughts of Carl cox As I drift off in my bed, I said, “It shouldn't be a problem, officer” As I reached for the gun And he aimed it at my death. That's an impossible apocalyptic suicide— Did you invite the devil in? I said “Nah, but that guy did.” The problem is, I pointed over yonder to a ghost Who also knows that I'm a well respected psychic; Nevermind a sidekick, side bitch in a sidecar, Psych ward, Sike! We spike war on your kind! So far, If I make history tonight, The other side decides their psalm is just as likely The third reike. Okay, strike one: I'm gonna turn your lights off. Strike two : you do and say what I do: Strike three: we're gonna make you suicidal I specialize in denying rights for high profits But big brother, or boss— What if my glove fits? The instance it does, We lock you up with no service, Your world becomes dark And your words become worthless Oh shit. This is not a good rap song. Like, at all. I must say, I do agree, You lose your trust, but silently Denied is all your trouble, Till it just begins to bubble up Until the cookie crumbles— See that feeling in your stomach? This is bigger than the money, girl — They want your soul, and then the world! I told you never call him. I didn't! Then explain this: [Skrillex] *sharp inward sigh* CUT IMMIDIATLEH TO STAN You know what! That's it! I don't care how handsome or rich and famous he is! This has to stop! KYLE Hey, wait just a minute— STAN SHUT UP KYLE. KYLE You shut up! STAN You're starting to sound just like him! KYLE Take that back! STAN I won't take it back! You all might have forgotten who you are, but I haven't!after of fact, I bet to Cartman, you're still that stupid little Jew kid! KYLE That's IT. KYLE takes out his phone. what are you doing? …I'm tweeting about this. I thought it was X now… It is, but you can't ‘x' anything, it's still calledl tweeting. I guess youre right. —and I'm tagging Cartman ! STAN Are you serious? Oh shit, this is social suicide. …did I ever explain this storyline? …I don't know, did i? I'd gotten so focused on this impending doom looming over me with this whole lawsuit that I'd forgotten entire worlds and whole documents. Even more terrifying, was the sudden quiet and the onset guilt that came over me for getting distracted. But I couldn't remove myself from it entirely—- it seemed to have ruined everything. It wasn't just motorcycle noises, it was like a nervousness and angst twisting in my stomach for months and months, until finally, as the court dates started approaching, it was peaceful, or rather, normal, all of a sudden. It couldn't be peaceful because now that the extreme noise was gone, I knew it had been planted all long— but what was the purpose? I'd lost two years not knowing, and though there were albums, they were never what I wanted. Now I was sorting through the documents of the show like it was the rubble of a decimated building— completely demolished, and I hadn't the slightest clue the contexts or the storylines anymore. It was pain and suffering, but not in the legal context. It was a creative disaster— I hadn't any idea in the slightest where I'd left my audience before I was forced to abandon them. But I was forced to choose, at times, between soap and toilet paper, or eventually, food, and water— or a phone. Eventually, this too became a pattern of the impossible— trying my hardest to do what I thought had been my purpose, but for far, being so endlessly sabotaged, even ridiculed and humiliated, and still, I couldn't understand why. I was tired— and somehow, even though I'd wanted to be left alone, I was the target. Worse was that I assumed it to be bigger than I thought and completely out of control— I thought immediately back to how my best friend from middle school had been attacked, and how she was made to think that it was me…to the point that she'd become obsessive about it to call my mom over it. And as far as the court was concerned, to the wrong ears or wrong eyes, anything I'd published in the festival project could look troublesome, like the ramblings of a mad mad, or schizo, or uncontrolled obsessive thoughts— because the biggest secrets of all, the things that tied together these fictional worlds and plots, were my own real life experience. The inability in a court of law to detail the podcast, which had started as meltdown some would call grandiose over an almost long forgotten rockstar and a porn model — and the entries into the festival project that followed, which included high concepts, off-kilter comedy, politics, and even fringed on social justice. Nothing I ever would have wanted and especially over money, but the lawsuit wasn't about money at all. In fact, at any moment I would have chosen to die and have it all stop if it weren't for my very young son being left alone. Though recently the dread had overcome with a sense of unbearable loss and agony, encrypted with suicidal thoughts and wants, reeling for human touch, the overbearing factor seemed to be that if I killed myself, I was giving someone what they wanted. I was really much too tired to go on, but leaving behind the world in entirety, in my very own way of beliefs wasn't just “shitutting it off”, it was starting it over. Understandably and undeniably immortal in its nature, the instances of God I had left spoke with a reminiscence of being born again, and having to remember which is it I'd wanted to start off. It was an unachievable overload of chaos and disruption, a level of corruption that spoke to something so dark and sinister it seemed biblical — then, again, I tried to wrap my mind around a way to rebuild a positive world from hope and thought, or manifest reality, but this is the very experience I'd felt was intended all along. The motorcycles weren't merely meant to destroy my career, or my will power, or force— they were, but also they were made to play upon my most valuable asset, the power of thought, to make it impossible to become something other than what was wanted; to use my own mind against itself and destroy my way of thought by using vibrations that could not be shut out, or stopped— they followed me to the sound collective, to Shakespeare in the park, the bank, the doctors office— it was as if they knew and understood my very thoughts, my process. It was of nothing at all to corrupt every single body and brain who would surround me or come close— by using the power that seemed supernatural enough, but indeed were powered by money, and technology. Perhaps, in this essence, I thought, was the purest display of defective intention itself; the mere thought that this indeed was rather Good Vs. Evil or God and The Devil would easily be written off as a diseased way of thought. The social world and constructs had been built around being open minded to a system of psychology that was intrinsically rather corrupt. I knew this could only be fought with what I knew, and what I could draw from as logic. I didn't want to go to court because I knew the people I would be fighting were liars, and well trained psychological masters of manipulation, well hidden terrorists dressed as public servants and systematic corrupters all for simple profit margins, to whom I was not so much a person or a mother, or a daughter, but a number. Because I was poor, and had once or four times chosen to love the wrong person in an unorthodox and uncontrollable form of torture, dismissing each and every social construct or physiology that was by the book, by embracing that there was a reason for change I quickly became quite the antagonist of sorts and hopefully not some sort of martyr —for the kind of people that had money and property, and perhaps even socially constructed circles to camoflage their own self doubt and hatred, but absolutely also had no morals. –Death of a Superstar DJ If I lose my mind At least I know I'm right on time This time— I meant that, I had it bad this time MCBADBAT I had it bad this time, And the last. Perchance for you, Hour or folded, Hair my weight And glassed upon thy, This upon now, Feathered waking, And there barely weathered Shaking. Dear, dear, Tis is fair truth, To fare that I have gasp And fated at thy doorstep; And yet, care to force, Her breaking waves and saving tinder, Fit there slithered in as yet astonished, Then another; And I hated. So, then, slower now. All there, gathered none. And show to show thy force What then became and withered after, None to bark or beg But birds and feathered creatures, pander The tides did Quake, And the heart did grow ten fold and steady saying None upon us but one left to shiver in the depths That yet remain as undiscovered For now never there was another world, Undone, And also another becomes, My death— And therefore all the worlds I kept, To travel on and travel As becomes one, does another onward As the first is glass to dust, And last is born there. So, Then, I, Crept, In my dress, Kept for clothes that church did water I, met, My mark and there the doors of shadows open Wilted and wake? Hear you; A star was born In other cosmos tied with our own nurture So, Kept, The weight of clasp and bone That holds the crept and precious alter Goddamn cat! Where are you. AAtticus Caaticus Oop. Gotta go. Toonces! Tooooonces! Where are you? Omg remember that one where that couple has a magic toddler and they just let him like,float away. Yeah, barely. Yeah. So I do. CUT TO: TOONCES focuses intently on the task at hand; he's sure he can manage to drive the human vehicle to his own home— to where he's assured he will find the actual body in which he belongs. Now… let's see, if I can just Wait, I who? ATTICUS CATTICUS, An ancient alien sorcerer must relay a series of important messages. Unfortunately. YO WHAT THE FUCK. None of them seem to be getting through. CUT BACK TO: TOONCEEESSSS. here kitty kitty kitty!! {Enter the Multiverse} I would dedicate, but honestly I've not time to waste And I'm craving wedding cake I hate to destroy you But for now, you know I can't employ you; This implies my eyes are also murder And I'm sure of her departure From another world, Perhaps across the border. Also, quite the dark sorcerer himself LORNE MICHAELS has well hidden himself under the guise of having become one of the most successful television producer of all times— And even in his own very small world, Nobody quite seems to know why. JIMMY FALLON Lorne, I have to tell you something. LORNE MICHAELS This had better be good, Jimmy, I've just made popcorn. [the festival project ™] Don't worry, for now, The risk remains hidden, As sure as an asset is an advantage, I can't have the classes counting Heads of cabbage as accomplishes, The masses are honestly astonished And impossible, but what was wrong with Boredom in the first place? Nonsense More words And still no dollars Hunger strike, And burning harder, California deficit, lack of bread, Heaven sent interventions and scissors, Mistresses, disasters and divorces But who says the whole story has to suffer? You're a surfer under water, Remember that when you finally catch your breath above the surface Can you clear her? He who? Back to work! Or back to the future! My super brain is dead but I think I'm next I think heaven swallows whole the blooded laugher From the constructs I've come from. Remember that. Remember not to fall from too far up, God would give you wings With time to spare Before you ever wondered where Your mark was On the plaza Don't let me up to the very top. I will at the very least Best scenario jump off And rid the world myself, Just for a dozen donuts over Crossing hearts and Hollywood And Griffith park To also soft my foot Upon red carpets. You ever shave your armpits!? …no. Hm. Catholic. Of course. Get in. Destination. —Rotterdam. You idiot. I made it. Whatever, get in the boat. DI NERO Give her your shirt. What. Your shirt. Why my shirt. Just— Fine. Here. [he hands over his shirt— in an instant, the woman becomes an exact REPLICA.] …my shirt. Relax. Nothing's gonna happen to it. Okay? —in fact, you're still wearing it. Alright! She's right, Jimmy, relax. I can't, that's— It's simple. There is nothing simple about this whatsoever. You're right. It's not, so get over it. [The Festival Project ™] BILL MURRAY There's a compartment at the end of the left corridor— Alright. In that hatch, there's a chamber. Okay, what'll I do? You'll open it? How? I'll tell you how, just get there. Suddenly, a barrier falls; it appears as though there are booby traps set here. Uh— that might be a problem. There might be a few of them. What just happened? Booby traps. —ah, I know what you're talking. Those aren't booby traps— they're Bobby Traps. What in the Hell are you talking about? For whatever reason Jimmy Kimmel Is important Now I'm scared of him, I know he knows the devil Come to think of it, Might even be an advocate Have an avocado But don't know the half of it These are, as it stands Comes what may Special circumstances I could circumvent an intervention, Never second chances I've been setting rat traps, Trapeze artists, Bampheramph camp, And also trampolines over the plaza That seems dangerous. Yeah. AHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Damn. Know it's plausible, That I also am an alcoholic, Though dysfunctional, Professional, And underrepresented So I stand myself, Let's just say pro-se if you will I could add Prozac to my snacks But I'll be delayed, if you still Don't get my messages I'm sick of having heart attacks; A hard advantage I was looking back on “fully packaged” A six pack of abs And nothing left to eat but cabbage, Haven't had a mouth, But I've been counting on my ass To get me back up north, I'm coming from the South Out West, there's a word for that At best, you're a four and a half My body double stunts and stumbles Struts at nothing Struck before the one, And so between high noon and Somewhere around 30 in I'm never turning 30, 30 Rock is in the wind— So count that up, That's what my income is. That's what they said? “Too late, you've been betrayed” If that's how it is, Then I request “beheaded” You know your mother says That ugly face just becomes permanent If you keep making it, And so I did, The second that it ended I'm Trying so hard Just to be What they want That it hurts Just to stop And relax For a moment INT. THE LAIR. NIGHT What is this? Where am I? You're— Alive. Why? …I changed my mind. You're not ugly You're just not mine I changed my mind I changed my life around. I skip line after line, But the message ain't right, I have time a chance No challenge accepted No exceptions or Expectations Expand this racism vocabulary Set the rat traps back To February Stamp the weather's getting Better with the postage clearing Abstr– My cat is so cute I can't stand him; But he's pretty bad, That my only friend; Animal. I blacklisted deadmau5, And my whole set sucked. Presently, however I'm a peasant Plucking pheasant feathers Guess I– pppftt. Like it never even happened But I'm sure we're all to war, Like a fear I never grasp it, What's l before, uncertain of your l words— My dear, were tattered and the masters heavy handed, Oh, my dear, we're marching on a battered Wit, to all your fan mail I tel you, I was I tortured, Let me show you And also, No one forced my hand at magic, Questioned prestidigitation, Or went back to every second, Land you think you owned as time In fact, my crucial very hard earned gossip column Asks the reader to reform his or her thought Before a judgement can be made How fascinating. The bag says ‘poems' so I wrote one, But I'm sure since my marker's toggled on I'm being stalked, It's like a magnet, Punch the clock And here they pour into the coffin So I won't be pouring coffee for the puffin; Maybe someday I'll look back at this as all I ever wanted, But for now it's just a horror show, Where I belong the murder— Yet a thriller, Best, The audience is captivated, Yes This is evasive, Cause I can't been captured yet By either masses or Mass murderers. At last, a cadence comes clean of its Breaking waves and rhythms, Tides and ties, Becomes another— Then, I'm whisked away Not back to slumber, but of subtle thoughts Of Californian water Lapping up across our surfboards; I often wear them tides, The undertow As pull of greater waves I sit aside as all that passes [The Festival Project ™] When I see Calvin Klein, I think of you; Not what you used to be But turned in to So it's mutual— Pay attention, fool As does moss grow on a rock And this to you— It is unfortunate, my dear You miss with every twist, Adjustment of attention span, The glances I foreshadowed (Here you are, inside your past) It's just affective of the effect, You've been levitating, Yes, I find it devastating Every second kept is just a fortune But you pause before you post— You reap before you even think Of what you sow, You don't belong, Agast, (True) Set the tone, Classless, But I'm Art, you are a Daunting folk song, Mistletoe and marker. CAMERA ASSISTANT Marker. …what is this for again? CAMERA ASSISTANT (Annoyed, mumbling) Shut up. Ten minutes passes and still, I'm awake But the tragedy of the mistake has just set in, I'm sure I've been tortured, I'm paid in mistakes, but I'd rather be shattered with Mortimer's curse. To the tune of Ten by ten by ten I will never be lover, nor friend in the end. {Enter The Multiverse] DRAKE concentrates heavily on a very long , seemingly very angry message— a frowning face plastered as he writes that is so noteworthy, it catches the attention of many a passerby— still this focus unwatered, as he bashes heavily away at the text message with the thumbs of fury for over 30 minutes while sitting at a booth in a well-loved pancake restaurant. As a tall stack of pancakes is served before him, and he, still unbreaking this angry texting streak or eye contact with his phone sits before them, history is made in what internet culture has now deemed as “the most meme worthy face in history” The world wonders what he could possibly be writing— and more importantly—-who he could be texting. Tears come to his eyes but do not fall as he raises his thumb with reserve, to finally press [RETURN.] CUT TO: SUNNI BLU receives a text amidst a wild party. Almost without so much as a reaction, SUNNI BLU pings the message to a projector and cuts off the lights, and music. A VERY LONG, ANGRY TEXT is projected on the wall. I slept from 10-2 There was nothing else to do My name is Devin DeLouise And I am not supposed to know these things Seven are dead and three are left I know what's next I'm also often known as And referred to as coyote ugly; Suffering a tantra wall, Yo, you son of a bitch! You dirty, dirty son of a bitch. I must admit, I had a lot to do with this… I had no part in it! Relax… soon enough, the both of your realize— this is how the unimaginable gets written. [he loads the polished sterling silver pistol and glamours over it] You have our memory. —all memory. And as soon as it ends, before it can begin again. The slate is wiped clean. Good riddance. “A Different Kind of Monologue” Is this what you wanted? Ooh— you should try me! I wish you would try me! Try me! I wish you would. Be calm, Grand Master. This will all be over momentarily. What's going on. Deprivation chamber. Crypt? —Encrypted? A lockup. Ah. Thought so. That ought to show us what he's really made up. We can all hope. [he pounds on the glass, the one way mirror acts as a camera which the maj aresses, rabid and wi the anger of a dangerous animal, both we, n audience, and the small group of men gathered a the other side of the room. This could be the basis of a lot of lawsuits. So now I have your tears and agony A wilted throne and wand Which which would grant a wish of comedy, And therefore ever after, Not pain and guilt, but laughter So heavy is the hat that acts as crown, And so foolish is the King to think ‘imself as not one, Creaks the crow and also of the feathered guilt that follows, I Kept and bashful, wishing not the show as throne but sorrow, Kept to wick and wake and bones to shatter from tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Do you fear us? …do you wish to be feared? What of us? I seek to cause the wish that stands as though you may as granted. So shallow, fair child. And brother and my son also. Gross! Stop. You are weird! Dude, you are fucked. In the withdraw, my shadows and darkness Are there always, never resting Stories and gathered images, Visions of betrayal and archaic wants. In time, I've abandoned them all and betraying that which I've lost, For I know, and not ponder on That I shall never know love, As all standing tal over me Have eyes; And all I want Knows not what hides under my ugly. Alright. I followed your spiral, downward, and down wind and down wood, Into a place where I also aspired to show your mark Upon my rotted corpse or coarse crossifix; Sure worded and down trodden. Now, worse, I'm also sworn To mourn all my own losses, Kind folk. Kind hearted and now my eyes also sudden to wander— And there goes my miles and triumphs And morals and war songs, And sure, swallowed the barrel of a gun But also departed with honor, I tell I. Glimpses of wither and winter and whittling pain, And I slither my back to the center of All I am, in this, and shadows, Fairtails, And grains of rice and sand to twist away Into the rain as I lay dying. What a fortunate! Don't make my mark up and out, few for short times, Aye, conspire to warthog, Remember so force your spirit onto ours, And shake, sandbox! There aiming at you were the snakes of six liars, And the stakes of empires lost and won over, Also one solemn subtle Star of David Worn upon the neck of six monks, Ragtime Six popes, pass I; Six fathers and streaks solemn and Care tan teared salamander, Having weight and wake to cheer For our slaughter. Then, you, Having gained and also lost should reap to sow, What you'd have wanted; Though the tongue so convexed having way to guild your complex, Shaking as I hunger fruit that not but hangs Before l wanted I know, I could knot be consoled I know, I could not be consoled I know I could not be consolidated either Bought, or purchased I know I'm not consoled at all, I know I'm not confirmed at all I know, I know I'm not confronted, nor immortal — but your glorified affliction. Poor infinity. Of poverty, perhaps, but never poor at all. For your were warned of all the doors as opened at your calling. Not to walk though, But to ponder at them, wondering. he's gone Maybe I should go Too Heavy weight hanging on my Shoulders I'm just star struck I don't know You I don't really like saying What I go through Talk an hour, Fake it All day show Monologue Improvisation Now i'm on a roll, But my thoughts got darker I like adderall and a real smooth talker I like a husband-father , Doctor, Actor, Tall and handsome, Doesn't matter I'm alone, so i feel hopeless Aggie's gone, So i might as well go though Oh– She's gone ((I think i'm past my time)) I think i should go to She's gone (so long) Right on, man I might as well go to It's been a long time, Gotta turn my light off, Overtime, That's a long ball game Season's over; On my back in the middle of the ball court She's gone, So i might as well go too. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025 The Festival Project, Inc. ™ All rights reserved. Chroma111. Copyright © The Complex Collective 2025. [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] All rights reserved. UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTION OR DISTRIBUTION IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED BY LAW. INFRIGMENT IS PUNSHABLE BY FEDERAL LAW LEGAL NOTICE / ARTIST STATEMENT Project: The Festival Project ™ (Season 12) Genre: Speculative Auto-Ethnography / Social Surrealism Disclaimer: This document is a work of creative non-fiction and political satire. While inspired by the author's lived experiences with systemic oppression, housing displacement, and surveillance, the narrative employs stylized fragmentation, stream-of-consciousness, and metaphor to dramatize the psychological impact of these events. The "characters" and "dialogue" herein are artistic devices used to critique historical and modern power structures. This text should be viewed as a performative artistic expression protected under the First Amendment, and not as a literal transcript of clinical psychosis or a formal sworn affidavit. This is a character study of 'Chroma111,' the collective artworks of a musician living in a dystopian surveillance state. The erratic language is a stylistic choice to represent the character's psychological deterioration under systemic oppression. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Genre: "Afro-Surrealism" / "Social Horror" "Psycho-Acoustic Weaponry" or "Havana Syndrome symptoms." The Frame: The protagonist is subjected to "noise harassment"—a tactic dramatized here but rooted in the known reality of tenant displacement and "psychological attrition." The narrative depicts a process of "Soul Murder" ( also known as spiritual warfare) orchestrated by a hostile apparatus. The antagonist is "The Institution," representing deep-state mechanisms that view multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story allegorically dramatizes the invisible mechanisms that enforce racial hierarchy, depicting how broken social systems weaponize psychological practices against the individual. Artist's Note: This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as an artistic testament to the psychological siege endured from to 2023-2025. It is a creative record of survival against a hostile state architecture. The following is a creative non-fiction horror manifesto regarding the psychological assassination of a multicultural American artist. It documents—through the lens of Afro-Surrealism—how modern surveillance technology and sonic harassment are experienced by the targeted individual. As it stands It has become a modern sequel which mirrors the civil rights struggles of the 1960s, set in the present day. "The protagonist is being subjected to 'noise harassment'—a known tactic used by landlords and corrupt entities to displace tenants. The sound is weaponized to induce sleep deprivation and psychological attrition, dismantling of their ego and will to live, orchestrated by a hostile state apparatus. The antagonist in this piece is 'The Institution'—a deep state that views multicultural intellectualism as a threat. The story dramatizes over time the invisible mechanisms (the 'Deep State') that enforce racial hierarchy and and psychological genocide, weaponizing broken social systems and unfounded psychological practices as biological weapons. This is a living document. In the event of the artist's silence or unnatural death, this text serves as evidence of the psychological siege endured from 2023-2025. It is a transcript of survival against a hostile state architecture. This project spans an unlimited multiprojectoral arc of over two years of chronic violence, reaching into historical and theatrical projections and parallels over the all documented records of human existence through time and space.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 29 Barbie Lynn s Genetics In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.   Nymphomania, while enticing to consider, is still utter madness when experienced. "Why Mr. Zane, my Barbie Lynn has told us so many wonderful things about you," she sounded so sugary that the honeyed words flowed off her tongue in a manner that was barely coherent. Also, her eyes flickered to the shower where I'd nailed Barbie Lynn repeatedly for forty minutes not all that long ago. Next to me Thomas grunted something that sounded like 'hello'. "I'm sure she's exaggerated to my betterment," I pulled that banter out of my tush, my brain was suffering catastrophic blood loss. "I can't wait to live in this dorm next year," Laramie came across with a nearly a molasses like drawl as well. "Zane, will you let me use this room next year?" "Dude! This is your room?" Jefferson perked up. "Mom, I have to come here next year!" "Um, yes Laramie, I'm going to hold this room open to every girl, and perhaps guy, in the dorm. I don't need much space," I said, "so keep out of the way of housekeeping and we are good. Also, you are immune from Handmaiden's Duty while here." "Oh, I was thinking about the game stations, satellite dishes and cable hook-ups," Jefferson added. Jefferson Davis, that name rang a bell. "Come on now Honey, a man can't go to a women's," Savannah let that sentence die unfinished. For me, it was keep the lone male status quo; or to get a good night's sleep'. "Mrs. Masters, I offer a thin hope for your son; if your daughter could line up some upstanding seniors and juniors, he might slip in under the Zane Exception to the enrollment policy," I told her. "You'd do that for Jeff?" Savannah took off her sunglasses and bit one of its arms. "Ma'am, I'd wrestle an alligator blindfolded for your daughter. I would certainly put in a good word for her brother," I smiled. I had no idea how tough alligators could be but I knew about crocodiles and those were some mean mothers in their own right. Still, faced with alligator wrestling or no anal-sex with Barbie Lynn, I was getting a belt, handbag and new shoes, damn it. The odds of getting Jeff in were long, Victoria barely suffered Heaven being around, and it would take an act of the Southern Baptist Convention to bring in a male to replace me when I was gone. "It would give your Father another option for Jefferson if you could do this Barbie Lynn," Savannah politely replied. "That would be great," the kid rejoiced. Yes, he was a fully functioning teenage male. "Zane can move mountains when he sets his mind to it," Barbie Lynn winked at me. Thomas saw it but was caught off-guard. "Let me show you my bedroom," Barbie offered her kin. They turned and the women sashayed away while Jeff had an almost run-in with Raven and 'company'. Each woman shot a look over their shoulder and smiled at me at some point along their journey which boded trouble. "I apologize, Zane," Thomas mumbled. "I thought, deep down, you were weak for submitting to your lusts. Now, I don't, I don't think that anymore." "Don't sweat it," I smiled. "It is only another day for me ending in y." "And don't you be forgetting about me, and how tough it has been resisting Zane," Vivian warned the man she was hoping to marry. "A wife should obey her husband," he started, "and a husband should know when to shut up." Lunch and what comes after I dropped Ms. Reveal's lunch off with just enough sassiness to make her smile and believe that our bad episode was behind us. She sent me to the Vice Chancellor's office a minute later, and while Doctor Victoria Scarlett was conversing over the phone, I felt comfortable to set her meal up in front of her and mine across her desk. Victoria only had this canned ice tea in her mini-frig so I swiped two and set one before her and opened mine. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, it was pretending to be Southern Ice Tea and I pretended to like it. The best thing I could say about it was it was cold. This was our fourth "working" lunch where she would insidiously fill my head with her philosophy and I'd causally remind her that women ran this government, not me; I was a figurehead. "What are you doing for New Year's Eve?" she inquired as she daintily cleaned off some crouton crumbs on her cheek. Her look was very intense. I wasn't getting 'quite' sexual signs from her but something, somehow this was personal. That could only mean one thing. "I'm spending it with Ms. Rio Talen but no set location has been chosen," I replied. "Oh," she paused then, "There is a Science Fiction convention in Seattle that runs from December 29th to through the 1st. My friends and I are attending and Hical asked about you." "Deal but we have to fit Rio in," I agreed. "I can send some Universe, TV and movie series and well as costuming information for her to look over," Victoria agreed tentatively. "No need, she's a Klingon, a small craft captain whose Father betrayed the Empire and whose survival is a stain on her honor," I told her. "With that barely constrained fury, she's a natural. You teach her how to use that bat-a-rang and," "Batleth," Victoria interjected. "Wicked-curved-bladey thing," I continued, "and you'll see. Oh, I'll need an Orion Slave Girl outfit and some green body paint for Mercy and all of her stuff by October 30th, cost is not an object." "I'll call my outfitter when you leave and I must say you are taking this rather well," Doctor Scarlet noted. "Why? I had a blast in your office that time," I admitted. "As long as I'm not crawling in, screaming fur-balls, I'm okay. I'll be a human Starfleet Doctor Xeno-biologist who has done surgery on multiple species. A "Doctors Without Borders" kind of guy. I'll get Cordelia to build me an actual tricorder, trust me." We ate, she asked for my sizes, I gave her Rio's and Mercy's sizes; at the Con we were all 'Next Gen' except Mercy who would be Old School for Halloween. She offered me a chance to be a Borg but since they all looked to be in desperate need of a sun tan, I declined. All in all, it barely took twenty minutes. "You did a very good job as Mediator this morning," the Vice Chancellor added as I made to leave. "It is not so rough," I grinned. "WWKSD?" "Wha, oh," she smiled warmly. "What would King Solomon do, clever." "Hell, the Bible has a whole book called Judges. This shit ain't so hard," I laughed as I breezed out the door. Ms. Reveal was waiting, as was Heaven. Heaven had to exert some will to not kiss me on the spot. Christina had lectured us on P D A, public displays of affection, during Homecoming. The more people who knew about us, the more the outcry and the stronger Chancellor's radical decision to keep Heaven on as part as the student body, would be challenged. As it was, our hands would casually brush one another until we got inside my dorm where I chased Heaven up the stairs, pinching her ass every time I caught up. After entering my code, I gauged Heaven's mood deciding we needed some quiet time; there would be too much traffic over most of the floor, and Heaven being too vocal, to get away with sex; and cuddling would be fine anyway. I caught sight of Rio with one of my Marksmanship team mates, Genesis. "Hey Zane," Genesis stood up. She was a weird one, going from borderline contempt to grudging respect over the last two weeks. If I didn't know the impossibilities, I'd think she had a boyfriend. "Hope wants everyone at the Amory for an equipment check at seven. We leave at 8:15." Heaven held my hand tightly. "Boudoir occopodo," Rio snickered as Genesis made her exit. Heaven's grip nearly crushed my hand, ouch. "Babe," I whispered to Heaven, "let me check this out." I disentangled myself and went for the wall of screens that separated my bedroom area from the rest of the floor. "Get some popcorn and get ready to sit a spell," Rio joked to Heaven who grumbled. I went around to see who, or whom, were using my room. Inside was not what I expected. Savannah Belafonte Masters had taken off her top (which was peach) and was rummaging with growing frustration through Barbie Lynn's bra drawer. I saw some grape juice splashed on her beige skirt. She saw me, pulled up her shirt to cover her bra-covered assets while looking a bit fearful and upset. "What are you doing in here?" she asked softly. "It is my bedroom," I replied. "What are you doing in my bedroom?" "But, but Barbie Lynn's stuff is in here," she gasped. "That would because it is her room too, we sleep together," I answered. That slowed her up for a second. "Can I help you with something?" "I, I, I spilled juice on my shirt," she began. "And your skirt," I pointed out." "Oh no," she choked back a sob. "What am I going to do? I'm a mess and none of Barbie Lynn's bras, shirts, or skirts are going to fit me." I mused over that for a second. "I've stashed some bra extensions around here somewhere and that should allow for the difference is sizes between you and Barbie," I said. "Now give me your skirt and I'll find a replacement." She hesitated so I added. "I'm not going to molest one of my best friends' mom, Savannah. Give me your skirt and I'll take care of everything." This time she did it, though I had to turn my back. I padded back out to Rio and Heaven who had just returned with the popcorn. "Rio, Heaven, I need you to break into Chancellor Bazz' residence and steal a skirt like this," I offered up Savannah's. "Hell yeah," Rio exulted. "Time for a little Breaking  Entry." "Oh, what the fuck," Heaven shrugged. "Count me in." She gave me a quick kiss and the two miscreants headed out on their nefarious mission. I went back to the bedroom and stumbled into Savannah, now with her bra off, eyeing two of Barbie Lynn's double barreled slingshots. Our eyes locked. "Right," I spun away. "Bra extensions." "Zane, do you think I'm attractive?" Barbie Lynn's Mom asked. When women say that, they can mean three things;          the truth,          the lure, or          the lie. Some women want to know if you find them attractive. Others want you to find them attractive for nefarious means. Lastly, a few woman want to be reminded that they are beautiful. Savannah was the latter. "If you are asking me if you are as good looking as Barbie Lynn, Mrs. Masters, I'll have to say no but that's because you are a lady who is fully a woman and Barbie Lynn is still leaving some of the girl behind. There is no comparison. You are both hot," I affirmed. "I don't know," she sighed. "It is with my husband, then seeing you and Barbie Lynn, in the shower, What's wrong with you and your husband, if I may intrude?" I asked. "He had an accident at work, one of his factories, and he hasn't been the same," she sniffed. "Do you love him?" I questioned. "Honestly." "Yes, yes I do," she sighed. "But he's just not there." "Do me a favor; come over and sit next to me and I promise to be as well behaved as a Montana Miner (hey, it is where my family comes from)," I said as I sat at the foot of the bed. Savannah very, very reluctantly came over and sat at my bed, but I said nothing. "Yes?" she broke down and inquired finally. "I want you to laugh," I related to her softly. "Laugh, laugh like you do with small kids." "But, I'm not sure," she began then I poked her in the ribs. "What?" So I tickled her under her arms. Savannah covered her breasts by mistake so I got some finger in and began making her giggle and squirm. "Stop it," she gasped for breath, so I rolled onto my side and tickled her other underarm until she finally flailed in surrender. "See Savannah, I'm not the bad guy," I grinned. "I'm not seducing you because I think you love Barbie Lynn's Dad and you simple need to worry a little bit less, and love yourself a little bit more." "How do I do that?" she panted. "I want you to try on some of Barbie Lynn's new clothes and see what you like, and what your husband might like," I suggested. "I'm not asking you to dress like a teenager; but not every day is Sunday school either." Oh God, I was talking clothes therapy to someone's Mother. "But," she stammered. "There is a screen right over there," I pointed out, "that you can change behind and the armoire over here has a mirror." "But I'll be parading around here, in my bra and panties," she worried. "Well, that's a bonus for me," I shrugged, "but a lady with a body like yours should be wearing bikini's with less material. Look at it that way." "Well, don't ogle, alright?" "Sure," I lied. What was I going to say? 'I'll pluck out my eyes?' After several tentative steps walking to the dresser and looking over her shoulder at me with real worry that I might find her either too attractive or not attractive enough, I gave up. I covered my eyes because they gravitated toward her backside like a plant seeking the sun. A minute later she finally spoke up. "I can't find anything that I think will fit," she said in desperation. I had the answer to that; I went up and picked out the clothes Barbie Lynn wore to the concert a few weeks back. "I can't wear this," she gasped in fright. "Barbie Lynn wore this to a social function," I assured her. "It is perfectly fine and you aren't going to leave here in it, only try it on." You see, the beauty of this pants/halter top combination was the lacing. I knew it would fit her, but she'd be showing a bit more flesh than Barbie had. She looked mortified when she stepped from behind the screens, and a little better when she saw herself in the mirror. I withheld my comment until she looked at me. "I'm dressed like a hussy," she stated sadly. "No; a hussy dresses like that when she goes to the supermarket. A wife wears that around the house to remind her husband he's a man and that she's his woman," Caveman mentality. Savanna gave her reflection a second, longer glance. This time she took in the sides, and dare I say, her ass. All her curves were smoothed out and pulled tight by the leather. "My ass looks younger," I caught her whispering to herself. "My Boobs appear like they are about to bust free," she addressed me once more. "Yes Ma'am!  Yes ma'am, they do," I smirked. "That is the whole purpose of the design of the shirt but I assure you, Barbie Lynn hasn't had one escape yet." "Oh, that's nice," she went back to looking at herself in the mirror. "Now there are some nice shirts in there, as well as some, short, skirts," I directed Savannah. She came out in the first shirt, trying to make the buttons hook but they wouldn't. I came off the bed and helped her. That is, I left most of them unbuttoned. "But they, my husband can see my bra," she worried. "Mrs. Savannah, that would be the point," I nodded. "Let him get a peek of the bra." We both heard the quiet footfalls and it couldn't be Heaven and Rio back so soon. Savannah froze and I reclined passively on the bed. "Mom, Zane?" Barbie Lynn gazed back and forth. "Baby Child," Savannah blathered. "Wow Mom," Barbie clasped her hands in approval. "The golden shirt with the plum bra is a wonderful combination for you." See, I trusted Barbie Lynn more than her Mother did. "I was trying on some clothes and, um, Zane was helping me," Savannah gulped. "Oh Mom, don't worry about it," Barbie hugged her mother, "Zane sees eight girls getting dressed every morning. He's used to it." "Oh, she trailed off. "So he's safe?" "I'd never say that," Barbie Lynn glanced back my way and licked her lips. "But he's a good friend and I think that's more important. Let's try on this next; the black leather will look good with the knee boots." It continued like this for a while. Rio and Heaven slinked back in with the now rather redundant set of conservative attire. We retreated to the head of the bead with Heaven snuggling next to me and Rio right beside her. Heaven and I shared a pillow, on our laps. "Do you think they have any idea that we're all bi-sexual," Heaven whispered as Barbie Lynn was prying Savannah into a red bustier. "Momma Mia," Rio hissed. "Those are some mounds. Big fluffy mounds." "Seriously," Heaven nudged us both, "I'm going to need a blowjob if this goes on much longer." I moved my hand behind Heaven, worked it up her skirt and up against her panties until I was giving her bunghole quite a workout. "Fine," Heaven ground out. "You can fuck me but I'm coming all over the sheets damn it." "What was that?" Savannah called out. "Do you think this is too much?" "Oh no Mrs. Masters," Heaven gulped. "If I wasn't totally into guys I would think you look, delicious." "Why thank you Ms. Vickers," Savannah smiled. "And if I wasn't totally into guys I'd have you chained to this bed and be ripping your clothes off right now," Rio added gleefully. "Oh, huh, thank you?" Savanna responded more cautiously. When Barbie Lynn, now totally torturing us, convinced her mother to wear a thong and a short skirt something had to be done. I reclined sidewise on the bed while Heaven built a pillow fort behind me and Rio dove under the covers to suck my feisty transvestite off. It was a half-assed endeavor and a minor miracle that nothing went wrong. Finally Heaven yanked my shoulder back and took a big bite out of it. I could hear Rio slurping up Heaven's cum and prayed the others couldn't. Is everything okay?" Barbie Lynn called out. "Heaven's got a muscle cramp but we are working it out," I fibbed. Second later, Rio's tussled head reappeared and she punched Heaven in the ribs. "Shit Bitch," Rio scooped up some errant semen with her finger, "Have you been holding that up all week long. You nearly choked me." "Why don't you come by every morning and we can work out an installment plan?" Heaven shot back quietly. Regrettably, Savannah noticed our, acquisitions and reluctantly put them on but I caught sight of her running her hand over some of the racier things left lying around before she and Barbie Lynn left. I had barely gotten outside with Heaven and Rio, to see if I was needed, when a squeal manifested right behind my ear and a body slammed into me, bowling me over. Paige "Lover!" Paige greeted me. "Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend Zane." Now, I was on my back, on the floor with Paige in my arms and with her skirt flapping far, far too up her ass when darkness descended on my world. It took me a moment to realize that the two Joten (Norse giants), standing behind the sofa were her parents, they were freaking huge! Her Dad alone looked like he played two simultaneous positions on an NFL team. Paige's Mother was dainty, only in comparison to her husband. Not that she's fat, oh no, this woman was simply big boned and brawny. I had to ask myself: what happened genetically? "Zane, I want you to meet my parents," Paige studied my face. "Sure," my smile wasn't too forced, "but you have to remember to give me a kiss for luck, for tomorrow's match." We rose up and my arm easily wrapped around Paige's waist. Mom and Dad seemed guarded and wary. "What game do you have tomorrow?" the Dad, Roger; finally asked. "Marksmanship Sir. I'm the spotter to the team captain, Hope Song," I smiled. "I'm Zane Braxton, by the way." I can do this. I mean, how many other girls here think they have their hooks in me? "We have the impression that you and our daughter are, romantically involved," her Mom asked me. It was the way she stated it in disbelief that astounded me and pissed me off, as if a big healthy strapping guy like me would choose their 'flawed' daughter. "Paige is an upperclassmen so mainly we hook up for the hours of hot sex," I pulled her close. "Come here, you," I turned and looked down at Paige she pushed up and kissed me deeply. "What are you doing with my daughter?" Roger rumbled. "I'm kissing my lady," I smiled at him, "What does it look like I'm doing Sir?" "I don't know what you think you are going to get out of this," he snarled. "Paige," I addressed the sultry albino who was all but humping my leg at this point, "what do I get out of your relationship?" "Hot steamy White Russian sex," she purred in a Russian accent. Yes, this side of 'poor pitiful Paige' was new to her parents. "But our daughter can't," the Mom stumbled verbally. "Oh yeah, and I'm taking Paige with me on a cross country motorcycle trip this summer," I kept grinning. "I hope you don't mind, she's our computer tech and back-up bar bouncer." Maybe the bar-bouncer bit was too much. "She'll get hurt," Roger sputtered. "Ah, I bleed more than she does and there will be a dozen of us; so if she kicks someone's ass and ends up in jail we'll be able to bail her out," I kissed Paige's forehead. "Baby, Paige," Roger muttered softly. "How about we talk about this?" "Sure thing, Daddy," Paige agreed. "Zane, I'll catch up with you before you head out for the tournament." I swatted her ass, in full view of her parents, which Paige loved. She sauntered off like a woman victorious. "You are such an idiot," Rio snickered in my ear. "That girl is a nut-bag and you are feeding her dynamite." "Speaking of feeding someone some dynamite," Heaven took my hand. "No one seems to need me at the moment," I squeezed her hand back. "Let's run for it!" and we raced for the bedroom like lovers possessed. Heaven I lay between Heaven's legs, her thighs arching up against my own. She wiggled her hips against me and her cock against stomach. I bit down at her nose but she laughed and turned her face away so I nipped her proffered neck instead. "Oh," she gasped. To show me how much she liked it, she rotated her hips, rubbing my cock around inside her. "My Honey likes?" I teased. "You know I do you bastard," she panted. "Nice, slow and hard." I withdrew my cock and then eased it back into her depths. Heaven hisses out her pleasure and with her hands on my shoulders she pulls me in tight. "God, I love you," she whispered to me. "I love the woman grinding up against me too, Heaven," I smiled to her. She hiccupped in passion then began thrusting harder up against me until I could feel her ready to erupt. I took hold of her shoulders and begun pounding her in sympathetic penetrations. "God Damn!" she seethed into my collarbone. Dampness flushed up my stomach and onto my chest to the very edge of my neck. Face to face sex really appealed to Heaven and she was really shooting off hard because of it. I slowed down; I hadn't ejaculated yet but I didn't want to wear her down while I worked up to it. "Oh no you don't," Heaven gasped. "I, I know what you want," she giggled weakly. Heaven struggled against my hold. "You don't have to," I said softly. "I want to you dummy," she kissed me. "Now let go and I'll roll over." "No, let me," I related before I leaned in for a French Kiss full of need. She gave one more surge of defiance then relaxed. Then I shifted my arm down until I reached the back of her left knee. I pushed it up until she passed my hip. Heaven was glowing with anticipation. I was folding her up and then I was going to pound her thoroughly and fully. Heaven brought up her right leg all on her own but the real gift was the way she arched her back in ecstasy when I bottomed out in her with all the muscle power I could muster. We held eye contact as I drove into her time and time again. A tear escaped her eye and scarred her cheek. "Babe?" I worried and slowed down. "I'm happy Zane," she breathed deeply. "Happy." I resumed my energy and the very essence she was lending me set me off by surprise. "Oh God," I gasped and gave her my seed. Heaven bit her lower lip as I sizzled up her rectum with my hot semen. A smile must have etched my features because Heaven became quizzical. "What are you thinking about, Lover?" she asked softly. "I think I've had the best homecoming ever," I answered. It took her a second to get it. "You can keep coming home as often as you want," Heaven licked her lips and bucked her luscious ass against my still rigid rod. Brandi Hand in hand, Heaven and I had barely exited my bedroom when Brandi came rushing up with a girl in hand. "Hey!" she beamed. "This is my sister, March; and she's coming here next year. I wanted her to meet you, Zane." How bad could this be? I squeezed Heaven's hand. "Hello March, this is Heaven Vickers, my girlfriend," I shook March's hand with my free limb. "Hey Zane," March said shyly then, "Brandi says you do things, with lots of girls here?" "See how Heaven is smiling," Brandi whispered to her sister like some conspirator. "He makes me smile just like she is." Well, I had to think, not exactly like I do with you. "Brandi, what did you tell her?" Heaven intervened. "I told her," the two giggled, "that he's magic with his fingers and tongue; and he'll do all the things, to her." "You pimped Zane out?" Heaven snickered. "It, it isn't like that," Brandi back-pedaled. "I sent her a link to his website and told her to hide it from Mom and Dad." "And Brandi says we can have sex here with you, and God won't hold it against us," March piped up. I had to go 'What the Hell?' I give out dispensations from God? He really ought to tell me these things. "I wouldn't go that far," I got out. "Oh, being with Zane is a spiritual experience," Heaven snickered. "Ten minutes ago I swear I was seeing Angels." I wanted to stomp on her toes because March seemed to be buying it. "Are you a virgin?" March whispered to Heaven. "I swear on the Bible that Zane's never penetrated my cunt," Heaven raised up her hand to God. "Did he, you know, the other way?" Brandi leaned in expectantly. "Until I cried tears of joy," Heaven teased her right back. I really wanted to stomp on Heaven's foot. "What other way?" March joined the conversation. "You know, like Barbie Lynn," Brandi giggled to her sister. Oh fuck. "Didn't it hurt?" March sounded concerned. "Oh no," Heaven stroked March's arm. "He's slow and gentle." "Okay; fun conversation!" I declared. "I see someone who wants to kill me. March, you are a beautiful young lady with an exceptional sister and I'll see you next year." I stormed deeper into my apartment only to hear. "Look at that ass go," Heaven sighed. "Yeah," Brandi murmured. "Those pants are so tight. They are hot! Cappadocia Rio was getting downright mopey when we headed for dinner. As we were going in, I spotted Cappadocia and what had to be her little brother, mother and father. I wasn't sure if she wanted to have me meet the folks so I tried to quietly move passed. "Zane," she turned and called out. I deviated my path and went over. Rio tagged along. "Hello Cappadocia, Mr. and Mrs. Davis and, um, young man," I greeted them. "Tobias," the young guy offered his hand and I shook it. "This is my good friend Rio Talon," I brought her forward. Mr. Davis stepped up and shook my hand next. His grip was stronger than needed in that alpha male style. "It is good to meet you Mr. Braxton. My little girl says you are a promising candidate on the new to the first squad," he grinned smugly. "Well, Cappy would know, she's Team Captain and I'm sure she'll be Captain next year when she'll get to decide if I stay on First Team," I tried to be nice. "So does it feel bad to be beaten up by girls?" he joked. "Well, if I ever get beaten up by a girl I'll let you know," I gave him my best steely grin. "Here I get beaten up by women, really tough women." That brought the big guy up short. "Oh well, my daughters a real fighter alright," he stammered. "I believe you, she's knocked me unconscious once, in a practice session. She laid me out cold for about a minute," I enlightened him. "Zane knocked Coach Gorman down Father," Cappy came to my defense, "and took down three men who threatened some girls once." "You girls shouldn't be leaving campus," her mother chimed in. "Mother, we go out in groups and we are just fine," Cappy insisted. "Are you responsible for this new attitude?" the Dad asked. "Sir, I'm one freshmen in a school of 900 women," I shrugged. "The fearlessness was here before I ever arrived. It will be here long after I'm gone. I belief the unofficial motto for the Karate program is 'I kick ass for the Lord'," I sort of lied. Cappy said it and she smiled slightly the hear me repeat it. "Yes," he muttered, "we want our girls to be strong in their faith for the Lord. It is good to see Cappadocia having a vibrant faith." "Oh, I've seen Cappadocia vibrant," I smirked her way. She restrained herself from hauling me off and punching me because our act of vibrancy had everything to do with sex and nothing that she wanted to tell her parents. Her dad missed it, her young brother wasn't even paying attention but her mother caught our undercurrent. A smirk creased her face as she looked the two of us over. "Cappy dear, you to practice safety when you spar, don't you?" she cautioned her daughter. "Yes Momma," Cappy gave a sly smile of her own, "I'm always careful, even when I have Zane down on the mat." "As long as you keep control of the situation," the Mother nodded. "You keep winning Girl," the Dad rejoined the conversation, "because you have one more year of playing around then you need to find a job and let God give you a husband." Cappy didn't flinch but I knew how hard she struggled for the team and having it disregarded by someone who meant so much to her. "Maybe Cappadocia can either compete on a National level or train students when she goes home," I offered. "She's real hardcore," Rio added. "No one trains as hard as she does and the other girls know it. Hell, when I first met her I thought she was some Inner City Gangsta Chick, she was such a bad ass." There was my girl Rio, the Conversation Killer. Sure, Cappy was African-American but that never came up with us. As I recalled, she came from a moderately-sized town outside Atlanta Georgia. "What?" the father darkened. "Rio," I tried to pull her away. "No," Rio growled. "Listen buddy," she poked the man in the chest. "Your daughter is an athlete and a damn fine one. If she was a he and in football you'd want him to try for the NFL so why are you treating your daughter any different?" "I don't think you know what you are saying young lady," Cappy's father stated angrily. "Maybe I should have a word or two with your father." "My father is a self-righteous self-serving asshole," Rio began before I started dragging her away, "and he knows I'd kick his ass if he treated me this way!" she finished screaming at him. "Whoa Rio," I calmed her. "The truth is only going to rub that situation raw." "Cappy deserves more than that," Rio spat. "Face it, you are channeling some Mercy into this Bro," I said. "She'll be okay and back in your arms come Sunday. Cappy is tougher than her father knows." "You hope so!" she groused. "I swear, with some of these bitches, they are perfect bright and confident then you roll a man around and out go the lights, nobody's home." "Then we'll have to find a way to set them on fire so the light never goes out," I suggested. "Face it, you are the schools premier pyromaniac." "That I am," Rio grumbled. "I'll find a way to burn this shit up." Opal "Hey you two," Opal greeted Rio and I as we started eating diner. "What's wrong, Rio?" "Plotting the end of male domination of the Western World," Rio grinned wickedly. "Is there something I need to know," Opal looked from one of us to the other as she sat at my side. "Are we mounting a rescue mission for Mercy?" "Mercy?" Rio said suspiciously. "Sure," Opal sampled her fare, "give the word and I'll get six or seven girls together for a run at her family if you need it." Rio stared at her for a second. "Why would you?" Rio asked suspiciously. "A lot of us like her since she came over to our side," Opal grinned, "and she keeps you in line, most of the time." "Just to keep things straight," Rio sneered. "I keep her in line damn it." "Oh please," Opal rolled her eyes, "one little whimper and a look from those soulful eyes and off to the bedroom you two go." "Gurrr, as long as everyone knows that she's mine," Rio was now embarrassed. "And that's why we would come to help you, Rio," Opal gobbled a quick bite. I tried not to laugh. "Zane," Rio pointed her fork at me, "if you are trying to tell me I have friends, I'll bleed you like a little bitch." "Who me?" I grinned. "Perish the thought that anyone likes you or considers you 'user-friendly'." "I'm the soul of friendliness, fuck you," she snipped then smirked at me. "Opal, Rio met Cappy's dad and that didn't go well," I enlightened my shower buddy. "What went wrong?" Opal sighed. With Rio, you never knew. "It is the whole bullshit of get your degree, go home, get married and start pumping out babies because that's some twisted vision of God's will," Rio stated angrily. "Most of the girls here are like that Rio," Opal responded. "Now hold on, they want to get married but we can certainly help them find the right guy and not some bum foisted on them by their families." "Opal, that's positively human of you," Rio wondered. "I was the bad girl before you two arrived," Opal snickered. "I wasn't in your league but I had radical thoughts." "The first day in the shower showed me as much," I confessed. "Well, that first body wash confirmed you weren't a girl," Opal bumped my hip with hers. "With Rio, well, it took us a while to figure out she wasn't a guy with a really small cock." Rio reached across me and smacked Opal. "My desire to be in the driver's seat doesn't make me a guy," Rio griped. "You are only the second person on this campus to have a girlfriend Rio," Opal rubbed her shoulder. "Give us a chance to adjust." "Adjust? I'm hoping for some conversions," Rio quipped. "Okay then, what are you doing tonight? Brigit and I are at loose ends," Opal offered. Rio stopped eating and looked over at Opal. "Sure, but the first one to suggest a pillow fight or that we paint our nails gets an attitude adjustment," Rio demanded. "I can hear Brigit's quim quivering already," Opal leered. "It's a date." Raven, and Paige again We had packed the last of our firearms away in the van modified to be a secure courier when the families in attendance and some of the other students gather around the bus. I spotted Raven hanging back with an older woman who was a bit heavier than she was. I walked over to make sure she was okay. "Hey Raven," I slipped past her guard and gave her a hug. She tensed up and muttered something. "What?" I wondered. "This is my mother, Carol," Raven said softly. She kept looking down at the ground. "It is nice to meet you Mr. Braxton," Carol greeted me. She seemed to be studying me intently as if she was expecting something from me. "It is nice to meet you to Ma'am," I grinned. "Raven is a really good friend to me and I couldn't be doing as well in English without her." "Do you and my daughter have a close relationship?" she pried. I could feel Raven start to fold up next to me in embarrassment. "I don't know what you mean?" I inquired. "Mom, we are just friends," Raven said sadly. Oh, now I thought I understood. "Mrs., Raven's Mom, Carol, please understand that being the only male in such a large female student body, several girls put all kinds of pressures on me," I began. "Your daughter is unique in that she treats me like a student first and that she truly helps me get by. If I couldn't touch base with her from time to time I might go nuts." "Oh," the Mom sounded somewhat disappointed. "Raven, how many girls have you helped me get away from?" I tried a different angle. "I, Paige, oh God Paige," Raven rumbled then, "and Barbie Lynn, and Rio and that girl Iona." "You really do help him with other girls?" Carol sounded surprised. "Yes Mom," Raven perked up. "Girls are always swarming around Zane, they won't let him study unless I'm around." Not totally the truth but hey. "I hope you understand that my daughter thinks a great deal of you," Carol drilled me with her over-productive Momma eyes. "The feeling is mutual," I nodded. The bus's horn beeped, it was time for us to board. "Raven, give me a kiss for luck at the meet?" Raven looked shocked but reached up on her tip-toes and kissed me on the cheek. I reciprocated the gesture and turned to leave. I had made it half way when I got blindsided and staggered. Several kisses smothered my face. "Hey Lover," Paige panted. "Good luck shooting shit and taking names." "I'm a spotter Paige. I don't actually shoot things," I clarified. "Good," she purred then stroked my cock. "Save more of that for me." "Who is that?" I heard Carol ask her daughter. "That's Paige," Raven growled with menace. Yeah, lots of love there. "Zane," Hope said evenly. We were ready to go. I gave Paige one more kiss and a squeeze on her ass then slipped passed Hope and got on the bus. Hope got on after me and Gorman started up the bus. "Well, that's not a send-off I'm used to," Genesis chuckled over Paige and I. "If it breaks his concentration, it won't be the only thing I'm sending off," Hope informed the bus to even more chuckles. Hell, it's a gun club; a bit of bloodthirstiness was to be expected. Working Past Homecoming. As Rio and I pulled into the driveway of my house, I noted both the progress Aunt Jill's contractors were making on the extension being built to shelter the motorcycles that were now hanging out at the place and their number. I also saw a bike that I didn't recognize with a brazen gang emblem on the saddle bags, Stormrider's, not Valarie's. Rio was still sulking over Mercy being with her parents. It was Saturday night so she had less than a day to go before Homecoming ended and Fall Break began. The hope was that Mercy could convince her parents she was required to stay on campus for the week school was out. Considering what her family patriarch thought of women's opinions, we didn't think she had a prayer. "A lot of bikes," Rio noted. "I don't care what Jill says, I'm grabbing a few beers." "Don't run around the front yard naked or swing from the rafters and we'll do fine," I joked. I wasn't going to fight Rio on this, I was preparing for a hung-over Rio at Church in the morning. We heard laughter as we stepped onto the porch. I swung the door open and announced us. "Jill, it's me and Rio," I said. The laughter died down and I heard footsteps coming my way. Jill and I met at the entry to the living room. We hugged, kissed and then she showed us in. Belle and Willa were regulars and Valarie was expected. The ginger-haired woman with a beer and a smile was unknown to me, though. "Zane, Rio, this is Fontana Palmer, Valarie's mother," Jill introduced us. "How's the leg, Old Lady?" Rio grinned. That's Rio for you. Fontana turned to Valarie. "You were right, you can't go ten minutes without wanting to punch her," she chuckled. "I got it for you," Belle hopped up. Rio, in her foul mood, was ready to get in a scrap right then and there but I knew that was plain stupid. "Come on, Belle," I intervened. "GF problems." "Yours or hers?" Belle hesitated. "Hers," I answered. Belle leaned past me and looked seriously at Rio. "Mercy's in trouble?" Belle sounded concerned. Willa half-turned on the sofa to get a better view of things. "She's with her," Rio bit down on the expletive for Jill's sake, "parents." "Ah, what a bitch," Belle moved past me and led Rio to the sofa. "Isn't it great when the folks decide that you aren't good enough for their little pride and joy? Been there, done that." Belle handed Rio her beer then looked back at me. "Zane, two more beers," she ordered. "Hi, Zane," I mocked myself, "Glad to have you back. How did the match go?" "It is good to have you back, Zane," Jill touched my arm. "How did the match go?" "What was the match in?" Fontana inquired. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Palmer," I corrected my rudeness. "He was in a marksmanship competition," Valarie jumped in. "How did you and Hope do?" "Hope took top spot but it was close," I informed them. "The number two guy came in .02 points behind and third was .08. The team took third place." All I have to say is those two guys scared the crap out of me. Apparently they shoot moose with .22's in their spare time or some shit like that. "Congratulations, Zane," Willa grinned. The room followed suit, except for Rio. I motioned Jill to return to her chair and made for the stairs. "Beers, bitch," Belle teased me. "Sorry, Jill, beers, Punk." I opted to not make a scene so I dropped my bag, went to the fridge, and got two beers. By the time I got back, Rio had buried her first beer and grabbed for her second. Belle took hers and winked. "What? No tip?" I wondered. "Oh, what were you expecting?" Belle tilted back her head. I ran a hand through her hair, leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Our tongues darted forth, then danced back and forth within our mouths. I put a hand on her shoulder then let it migrate down to her breast. I squeezed it gently and Belle moaned. I broke the kiss and smiled at her. "That'll do," I chuckled. Belle's eyes were alight and she was smiling as well. Jill was looking into the fireplace and blushing, Rio was blas , working through her beer, but the other three women were staring at me. "Beer, Zane," Valarie leered. Fontana, far from being protective, patted her daughter on the shoulder. "Oh, hell no," I waved off. "I was crawling through the woods all morning then spent the rest of the day riding in a bus with other smelly athletes. I'm putting my bag in my room and taking a shower." "Are you sure you know what to do showering alone?" Valarie called after me. Bitch. The first thing I noted was that someone had been sleeping in my bed. My money was on Fontana. I'd deal with that later but at the moment, all I wanted to do was get clean. As the hot water scalded away the grime and sweat I thought happy thoughts about Hope. She hadn't complimented me but she hadn't a bad thing to say about my performance either. In a way I felt 'in the zone'. I caught the range, slope and wind changes like a pro and I thought her score showed it. I knew she wanted the team to do better but with the youth of the squad, coming in third out of a field of twelve felt good to me. For Hope, nothing short of first would do. By the time I got downstairs, I was shirtless, wearing gym shorts, and drying my hair with a towel. The group had migrated to the den, the TV was on, and the conversation was muted. Jill's look told me I should have put on more clothes. I only wanted to unwind. The looks the other women were giving me were far less motherly. I groaned, shook my head and went to the kitchen for some OJ. When I returned, I looked around for a seat and decided to sit down at Jill's feet. She leaned forward and patted my shoulder. That was fine. Valarie and her mother constantly stealing my glances my way was less so. Rio was nursing a beer and her hurt feelings, Belle was running her hand through Rio's hair in a strangely comforting gesture, and Willa seemed amused by the whole affair. At the commercial break, Fontana stood up. "Zane, can I talk to you alone for a minute, outside," she requested. "Sure," I half stood then, "Wait, does this involve me and pain?" She snorted mirthfully. "No," she smirked. "If you behave I won't hurt you too much." "Go on, you wuss," Rio teased. "It isn't like you've despoiled her daughter or anything." "But I didn't," I explained desperately. "That's right," Willa joked. "It isn't like you two have rolled around in that, it's not a bed. What is it?" "It is a sleeping platform," I mumbled. "I got tired of girls taking a header off my bed." "That's awful considerate of you," Fontana smiled warmly. "A moment, please." I followed her into the hall, then reluctantly outside to the porch. I was wearing shorts and it was cold so I folded my arms to conserve some warmth. Fontana moved a few more steps down the porch, turned, and looked me over. "Zane, thank you for being a good friend to Valarie," Fontana began. That wasn't what I was expecting to hear. "Umm, okay," I responded. "See," Fontana went on, "when her father forced this on her to make her into his mold of what a good Christian woman should be, I was afraid the experience would leave her bitter." "Why is she doing this anyway?" I asked. "She's eighteen and can make her own choices." "Oh," Fontana mused thoughtfully. She paced back and forth once. "She likes you so much I assumed she told you." She paused for a moment. "After my problem with the law, my ex threatened to keep my other two daughters from me unless Valarie came to FFU." "Oh, the fuck you say," I growled. My arms came down and I balled up my fists. "Listen, I know a pretty good lawyer if you want someone to have another go at your case, or I can shove his head down a toilet until he changes his mind." Fontana laughed. "No, you are doing enough. Stormriders take care of themselves most of the time but it's good to have friends too," Fontana smiled. "Valarie is having a great time at school. She likes the girls she's met, well, some of them, and she's happy that so many are heading out our way over the summer," Fontana went on. "She's very proud." "I would have never guessed," I replied sarcastically. "No, really," Fontana faked her surprise well. "I know she hides it well but she's really proud of where she comes from. Honest." She paused again. "Can I ask you a personal question?" "Sure," I shrugged. "Why haven't you and my daughter hooked up? She won't tell me," Fontana questioned. "I'm not sure," I worked out. "I've never pressed her. She may not like having sex with the eternal audience that hovers around me. Maybe she's respectful of all the other women in my life right now. All those answers sound plausible." "Ha," Fontana laughed. "Stormriders aren't exactly bashful. She says your girlfriend, Heaven, shares but I think she really likes you because you aren't hitting on her." "She likes me because I respect her boundaries? Oh, Gawd," I groaned. "At times I really wish I was an asshole. As it is, I'm afraid that one day my cock is going to fall off." Fontana walked up, patted my crotch. "That would be a pity," she whispered into my ear before heading inside. Because I Must Secretly Abhor a Good Night's Sleep Later that evening At school, I slept on a contraption that easily slept twelve and was often occupied by eight. I go home so I can sleep, on the sofa? See, Valarie and her mom were in my room, they were guests after all. In the prepared guest room, now Belle's room, Willa and Belle had crashed out. We had three other rooms upstairs but Jill hadn't gotten around into making anything of them. Rio was supposed to join Valarie and Fontana in my bed but somewhere between the 12 and 20 beers she and Belle were sharing; Rio decided to grab a throw pillow, curl up on the floor and pass out/go to sleep. An effort to rouse her failed so I put a quilt over her and let her sleep it off. After 11:00 Jill went upstairs and the rest followed her to bed. I put a few logs on the fire and laid down to sleep on the sofa. I couldn't have been asleep more than an hour when I felt something nudge my hip. I looked up to see Fontana's ass pressed against my side, her looking down into my eyes. Fontana was beautiful but in a hard, flinty way. She was mature but compact, like a she-wolf with little padding or softness to her. Her long ginger hair was pulled back in a ponytail though her bangs were hanging loose. She wore a tight grey t-shirt that said 'Eyes Up!' that highlighted her breasts. Sure, a bit of a sag in her 36C's but very nice. The shirt only came halfway down her belly, fully exposing her bright red bikini brief panties to my gaze. Her eyes were the same blue as Valarie's and danced in the fading fire's light. There were lines around her eyes and her face was weathered but strong. I could have stupidly asked what she wanted but, hey, she was sitting next to me, dressed like that after 'lights out'. I propped my upper body with my right elbow while reaching out with my left and cupping her right cheek. As I drew her to me, Fontana twisted her body around so that she straddled me. I had to scoot my body toward the edge to give her knee room to settle down. She kissed me with a steady intensity that slowly pushed my head back to my pillow. "Man, you are easy," she breathed playfully after we broke a long embrace. "I thought I'd have to explain myself or some other shit like that," she added. "If there's anything else I need to know, you'll tell me," I said softly as I brushed her bangs aside. "I fig

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 26 A New Student (tribal) Council   In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             If you can't look in a mirror and laugh at yourself, cut off the light             "Can we put other restrictions on you?" Simone Brady prodded.   "This is not the 'Zane' show," Virginia Goodswell interjected. "We need to decide when the new Student government will meet, I suggest Tuesday nights, and how we are going to conduct business."   "We can start by deciding where we meet," Chastity spoke up. "I vote for Zane's place."   "What's wrong with the Assembly Hall, where we've always met?" Rhaine countered.   "Rhaine, you are drinking a Doctor Pepper, KayLeigh, you are drinking a grape juice, and Joy was eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup when I got here," Hope snickered. "You have hot plates and microwaves too, if needed."   Rhaine, Joy, and KayLeigh, all Traditionalists, looked guilty. They also looked like they treasured their creature comforts because they weren't running for the door.   "It is a nice place," KayLeigh admitted.   "And you don't get to come back up here otherwise," Rio grinned evilly. "This floor is devoted to the freshman class."   "There are a lot of upperclassmen up here right now," Rhaine pointed out.   "Those are what you would call 'friends'," Rio sneered. "If you weren't freaking evil, you might have some."   "Please don't put it that way," I requested of Rio. Rio had every reason to be cranky. Mercy looked even more exhausted sitting at her side.   "Zane will arrange the room to fit your needs," Christina finally spoke, "I guarantee it."   "You think you can control him?" Rhaine shot back.   "I'm not afraid of him; he's not some wild beast. I ask him to do things for me and he does," Christina chided Rhaine. "He is like any other freshman; it is that simple."   "He's rather mouthy for a freshman," Hannah joked.   "Well, maybe if you put my mouth to other uses," I bantered back. There was a moment of silence followed by Dana Gorman taking up her bottled water and walking over to me. She smiled down at my seated form while she poured out the remaining water onto my crown.   "Cool off, Casanova," Dana cautioned me playfully before returning to her seat.   "Exactly why do you keep her around again?" Rio slapped my shoulder.   "Can you imagine how insufferable Christina would be if Coach didn't keep her in line?" I smiled. Christina rolled her eyes while Rio chuckled. Virginia stood up and cleared her throat.   "I want to make sure that all the ladies, plus Zane, plan to make this experiment work. It is rather pointless to proceed if any of you can't be honest now," Virginia, my Spiritual Advisor, poled the audience. Most of the girls looked around to see who would do what but no one jumped.   "I think it is safe to say that we students will stay true to the Vice Chancellor's plan, though this is not an endorsement of Zane, his conduct, or even his continued presence here," Rhaine spoke for the group.   "With that settled, we can call it a night," Doctor Kennedy declared. "Ladies, consider what issues we need to deal with so we can bring them up next Tuesday night, 9 pm."   "Who do we send the itinerary to?" Simone inquired.   "Zane," Hudson Lane volunteered me.   "I nominate Faith De Young (of Christina's inner circle) to be our Secretary of Record, if she wants the job," I said. Faith looked completely taken off-guard but nodded quickly.   "I'll do it," she made clear. The meeting broke up soon after with most of the student leadership departing. Dana, Hudson, and Christina & company hung around a little longer.   "Not the Glamorous Gremlin?" Rio teased me on my choice of Secretary. She gasped and nearly fell over right after that. Iona smiled softly and shook her head. She realized that she was still a freshman and her day would come.   "Ah, here's one of the controllers," Heaven gave a devilish smile as she handed the device over to Rio. Miraculously, the other three sexual wonders were also handed over, ending the threat of torture for the day.   "I see a spanking machine in you bitches' future," Rio snarled at Chastity, Hope, Heaven, Faith, and Christina.   "I swear, I tried to get one of those damn things all day long," Valarie griped. "You would think that after setting this up, someone would have given me one, but no, I am a freshman so I don't get to play the game."   "It was you!" Rio screamed, and lunged at Valarie, who comically batted her away as Vivian and Mercy intervened.   "Yes," Val laughed, "but it was Iona who figured out how to have captured your days by enlisting the aid of classmates with video phones. I can tell today's footage is going to be a classic."   "Why did you do it?" Vivian asked Valarie.   "I had revenge on Rio and made Mercy ecstatically happy; it was a win-win," Val grinned vindictively. It was a credit to Rio's berserk nature that no one asked what Rio had done to warrant revenge; everyone automatically assumed that Valarie was justified.   "Everyone's sympathy is under-whelming," Rio grumbled. "Come on, Mercy, let's get these things off."   "Do we have to?" Mercy pleaded softly. Hell, I imagine she could barely stand but apparently, her limit to sexual overstimulation was unconsciousness. Rio used one finger to hook Mercy's collar and pulled her close.   "How dare you talk back," Rio whispered, but I was close enough to hear. "I was going to settle for the vibrating nipple clamps that arrived today but now I'm thinking a few dozen paddle blows, to each cheek, are in your future, you annoying little bitch."   Annoying was Mercy and Rio's code word for 'love'; Rio simply couldn't stand the 'L' word.   "Vibrating nipple clamps?" Christina was both confused and amused. "Where do you people come up with this stuff?"   "Adam and Eve," Rio shot back without batting an eye. "Wait until I have Mercy's nipples and lips pierced; then the real fun begins."   "I don't think Mercy should have her lips pierced," Vivian suggested forcefully. "They'd be glaringly obvious." Rio groaned and sighed.   "Not those lips," Rio clarified. "The other ones, you know, labia, cunt lips, cunt etc." There was a pregnant pause in the room. "Attach vibrator wires to those bad boys and Wow! Let the magic begin."   Mercy and Rio really were made for each other; they were both salivating at the prospect. Thankfully, I saw Cassandra hovering around and looking ready for me to start playing towel boy.   "Ladies, one last duty to perform and then my day is done," I attempted my exit.   "Zane, is it alright if I spend the night?" Hope ambushed me.   "Of course," I smiled, because I'm a fucking idiot who is an embarrassment to the very concept of the mentally challenged and a parody of every teen boy date flick. I was already spending time with Iona, Paige, Barbie Lynn, and now Hope.   Maybe I can find a way to have a secret government space array shoot an earthquake laser at my feet so a pit opens up underneath me and I plummet to a fiery death at the Earth's core. Maybe I watch too much bad TV.   "Iona, did my Viagra arrive yet," I teased my buddy. "I'm going to need a pill tonight."   "Oh, Zane, I don't think we have any but I'll go online and see what I can get for you," Iona replied in all seriousness.   "I know some guys who smuggle them in from Mexico," Valarie offered. "I'll make some calls."   "That is so cool!" Barbie Lynn clapped her hands. "Now he'll never go down. I can ride him all night long." She hugged me while a fearful vision of my desiccated, sperm-drained husk lying open-eyed and lifeless on my bed danced before my eyes.   "Zane?" Cassandra called out.   "Oh, yes, towel boy and bikini selection," I muttered. I gravitated her way, took her hand, and led her to my room.   "What's that about?" Vivian mused.   "Handmaiden's Duty," Iona informed the ladies. "He picks out a bikini for her and acts as pool boy while she's in the Jacuzzi."   "I hope someone cleans that thing from time to time," Faith shuddered.   "Every morning at ten o'clock it is drained and cleaned, and the filter cleaned every Monday," Iona droned on without even looking up. The rest of that exchange was lost as I retreated to my bedroom.   What followed could be blamed on Cassandra accidently dropping her drink in the Jacuzzi and me having to retrieve it; it was an unopened soda can. Or maybe it could be blamed on the surprisingly conservative (for my room) white and black striped bikini she wore. Whatever was the catalyst, inside five minutes I had Cassandra out of her suit, front to front, her crotch pressing me against the side of the Jacuzzi with my head barely above water while she rode my face in a pattern and energy that reminded me of Hawaii's North Shore.   Cassandra was pounding the back of my head against the wood wall as she drove her cunt over my lips and tongue again and again.   "Oh, Baby, you are so much better than my fingers," she communicated with an erotic growl. "Keep it up, keep it up!" She was the one in the control of the sexual rhythm so I was not sure what else I might do but keep licking and sucking as hard as I could.   I was finally able to run a hand along her chocolate flesh until I managed to push against her sternum and got her to roll her shoulders back. That allowed me to start massaging and stroking one of her breasts while my other hand got between her legs from behind and gently penetrated her cunt.   "Za, za, za, Zane!" she screamed out. Note to self: Add earplugs to my Must Have List.   Cassandra slathered my nose, lips, and chin with her rather scalding, light to the tongue and tasty fluids. If she wasn't still trying to give me a concussion with her hips I might have enjoyed it more. As her orgasm dissipated, she slid down my body with a sated sigh. Her legs were outside mine so as she descended, her cunt came to rest on my Speedo-encased cock. Saying that my cock was hard would be like saying snow is cold or the English love their soccer; pretty much a given.   Her eyes grew wide when she realized where she rested. She's a senior and a virgin in a Christian Girl's school, she began humping me, of course. Being Cassandra, she began humping me hard and thumping her way to another climax.   "Zane, I am totally rethinking you being allowed on campus," Cassandra panted.   "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" I wondered. At this time I had one finger lightly in her cunt as my other hand tenderly tweaked one of her nipples.   "Oh, I think every junior and senior should have their own personal freshman boy to keep under control with a strong hand," she grinned while she kept working my rod over with her cunt.   "Wouldn't it be nice if we developed a peaceful, platonic relationship based on mutual trust and respect?" I suggested hopefully. Cassandra gave a deep, throaty laugh.   "You're funny, but no," she grinned evilly. "After all, if that was the case, I couldn't do this: Zane, suck my other nipple, suck it hard, while I play with your fat phallus." Oh yeah, I love the way this is going (insert internalized weeping).   She worked out my cock painfully fast and began rubbing it deeply between her labia, to the point I felt the tightness of her vaginal walls on my cockhead.   "Zane, you know a whole lot about the sex stuff," she stated. "What's a cock ring?" Oh, HELL No! I have enough difficulty ejaculating as is. The last thing I need is something that allows another to make the prospects of my ejaculation even dimmer.   "It's a device, a ring, that is placed over the base of the cock to restrict blood flow, thus allowing longer erections," I grudgingly confessed. "Thinking about getting one, as a Christmas present, for someone out of state?"   "So, you could have intercourse, for a long time, and not ejaculate, so a girl would be, safe, in fucking you raw?" Cassandra's voice was becoming more strained.   "Technically, yes, but a little music, some hand-holding, and dinner at McDonald's would suffice in getting me aroused," I tried to explain. "There is no need for, something like that."   "Zane, clearly God put you, on this campus as a test for, true believers," Cassandra related, "And every woman here needs, to be tested, A Lot!" she screamed out her second orgasm of the night.   My hands raced down to grab each luscious buttock before her spasms caused her to slip down my cock and make her virginity a thing of the past. When my cock slapped against my stomach, I held Cassandra tight until she calmed down.   "You need to stay on campus during the weekends," Cassandra moaned with content exhaustion, "so we can use you more often."   "Why do you think I flee campus every weekend?" I thought. If she had her way, I'd be walking around with an IV in my arm and popping Viagra like M&M's. I chose life! If you think I am a coward, step up and take my place. I'll sneak back into the cemetery at night and put a flower on your headstone. You can take that permanent smile etched on your face to your grave, He-Man.   "I have to ask: What brought this on?" I inquired.   "I received one of Mercy's controls and we shared the next class," Cassandra confessed. "She glowed with such pleasure I thought she would pass out. I was suddenly curious."   "I had nothing to do with that," I groaned. "I swear, it wasn't me." Cassandra placed one hand on each side of my face.   "Zane, it wasn't you, I know that," she smiled, "but it is your presence that allowed something like that, her ability to experience that level of pleasure, that I want to experience. I have to go now. I need to report to the other girls what it was like so we can figure out what to do with you next."   You know, if I had been paranoid, I would have been right, people are plotting against me. Cassandra stood up and stepped onto the bench so that I was once more facing her puffy, somewhat abused cunt lips before she swung one leg over me and exited the tub. I closed my eyes and let my head hang over the side, facing up.   "Towel boy," Cassandra taunted me. I looked at her. Cassandra was dripping wet and she was extending a towel my way. I pulled my own tired ass out of the Jacuzzi and tenderly buffed her excellent body until she was dry. She gave me one last kiss, dressed, and virtually skipped out of my domain, happy, arrogant and plotting my demise.   I cleaned up, dealt with the Jacuzzi, and took in my surroundings. The only witnesses to my congress and conversation with Cassandra were Dana Gorman and Hudson Lane, my voyeuristic adult female 'friends'.   Dana pulled me over as I walked passed her. Hudson Lane had gone off to get some drinks.   "You and Gabrielle, ?"   "You have no respect for my survival instincts, do you?" I chuckled.   "Not really," Dana smirked.   "Fine," I groaned in feigned annoyance. "She wanted to talk so we talked, nothing else happened."   "She beat you up, didn't she?" Gorman persisted.   Another deep sigh on my part came out before I confessed, "Yes. Why do you ask?"   "I wanted to smack you around from the first day I met you," Dana laughed. "I think Ms. Black has done admirably not beating you black and blue before now."   "Has yet another girl beaten Zane up?" Hudson angled around to sit next to Dana. "The consistency of the femdom attitudes at this school is frightening."   "Don't throw stones, Ms. Lane," Dana warned her. "You, Zane, and Ms. Messier, the lawyer Ms. Buchanan hired to help Zane when he went to jail, I was head of security when it happened and I know when Ms. Messier arrived on campus, where she stayed, and when she, and you, left this dorm."   "You never said anything to Chancellor Bazz?" Hudson worried.   "No," Dana responded. "You three are adults, and ruining your career here wouldn't have made expelling Zane any easier. I wasn't the sex police."   "Thank you," Hudson smiled. "I now have another reason to be happy Zane championed your cause with the Board of Directors." She touched Dana on her thigh.   "It's not going to happen, Lane," Dana informed the lawyer while opening her V-8. "I've had a long time to figure out that I'm not attracted to women." Wow, Dana knew that Hudson was bi-sexual and didn't care. That was another big plus for Dana in my book.   "That's what Brigitte Messier thought as well," Hudson winked. "It turns out a little bit of Zane goes a long way to loosening up a girl's morals and expanding their horizons."   "I repeat, it is not going to happen," Dana shook her head. "Zane's a student and I'm a teacher. Perhaps the day he graduates, I'll kidnap him for a long, frustration-relieving weekend. I haven't had sex in eight years and watching him work really stresses my resolve."   "You could always join me in the hot tub," I offered. I wasn't sure how serious I was. I also wasn't sure how bad a concussion Cassandra had given me.   "Zane, do you have any idea of what I would do to you if I focused all my pent up sexual fury onto that body of yours?" Dana threatened. I gulped.   "Does it start with me tying you down?" I suggested sweetly. Hudson was looking really intrigued by this. I was beginning to believe she had this erotic attraction to 'turning' straight girls, most likely mirroring her own Law School experiences.   "What do you think?" she glared. Dana was becoming seriously aroused.   "I guess my only other question is if I can outrun you," I joked. Dana kept staring.   "Zane," Hudson snickered, "do you realize that your swimsuit is basically transparent when wet?"   "No, I didn't," I gulped once more. My package was less than a foot from Dana's lips. "Sorry, I'll be going to bed now," I backed up.   "That's a really nice ass," Dana sighed as I turned away.   "It is even nicer to touch," Hudson commented.   "It's not happening, Lane," Dana grumbled.   "Oh, you will come around," Hudson Lane laughed softly. "I have faith in Zane." Dana growled in rebuttal.   When I rounded the first cut-back leading to my bedroom, I heard and smelled sex, suddenly, sneaking off to Gabrielle Black's place and hiding out for the night sounded like a good idea, barring her killing me, of course. I sorted out the noises as I moved around until the room came into full view.   Reminder number one: Check the God Damn air filters!   Where the fuck do I begin?   On the far side of the bed, Mercy was on her knees, head down on a pillow with her painfully ecstatic face looking toward me. That was how I could tell she had been gagged. Her wrists were handcuffed behind her back, she was moaning and sweating up a storm, and her whole aura emanated with tantric excitement.   In case you might be wondering where her Mistress was: Rio was straddling Mercy's back, ass resting on Mercy's neck (by the tension in her thighs, Rio wasn't pressing down hard thankfully) and facing her playmate's highly vulnerable posterior.   "Hold out a little longer, my slut," Rio egged Mercy on quietly as she paddled those beautiful exposed ass cheeks, apparently in a random fashion.   And now it gets weird(er): Behind Mercy, facing Rio, wielding a strap-on with firm, slow, and steady strokes, was Paige. For the love of the Almighty, should I be quarantined as an immorality contagion? It wasn't like Paige was an angel but she was taking a few giant steps to proficiently wielding an artificial cock into a bound girl's bunghole. The fact that Rio and Paige despised each other continued warping my perception of events.   Barbie Lynn (farthest away in the closest group), Vivian, and Valarie were on the near side of the sheets. They weren't actually having sex but were talking in low voices with the occasional running of a hand through a companion's hair or tracing a finger from hip to thigh. It was sensual without being pornographic. It also appeared to be something they all three were enjoying.   In the middle section of my sleeping platform (it is an awesomely big bed) was Iona and Hope, who were doing a little more than cuddling together in quiet conversation. Hope stroked Iona's head compassionately as Iona gently teased and suckled on Hope's left breast. Every ounce of my experience cried out to me that Iona had initiated the sexual contact. That boggled the mind, right up there with Hope allowing a near stranger such intimate contact.   "Hey, Lover," Barbie Lynn gifted me with a sultry leer, "are you going to take that off or are you going to allow him to bust out on his own?" Bathing suit, cock, raging erection; got it. I yanked off my speedo fast enough to make my skin burn. I wrapped it up in a towel before tossing them in the clothes hamper.   I quickly plotted out my journey, figuring out where I was supposed to end up. I was giving up the illusion that I controlled events because if I was created in God's image and that was the reason God wanted men to rule over women, then I think God was really Goddess and Heaven's soul had it right, change sides.   Valarie gave me a fearless grin as I climbed over her on my way to the middle. She shifted so that her breasts swayed from side to side. I took in the view before kissing her and moving on.   "Try to settle things down by eleven, Zane," Vivian requested. I nodded and then kissed the tip of her nose, which she returned by kissing my forehead. It was very motherly of her, barring the fact that the sheets barely covered her pubic region and every exposed bit of her looked scrumptious.   My last hurdle was Barbie Lynn, and that was an obstacle in more than just the physical sense. She knew how to stretch and yawn just right for making my blood boil with lust and my vision cloud with desire.   "You will come back to me, Zane," she said with brazen tenderness. "Now go on and take care of the others who need you now." Best Blonde Bombshell ever.   As I settled behind Hope who was still facing Iona, I took it slow to let her instincts understand that I wasn't a threat but desirous of her.   "What's going on here?" I inquired delicately. "Hope, I didn't think you liked Iona all that much? And Iona, you have become much more confident in the past month; I like it."   "Zane, Iona is one of the bravest freshmen I've ever met. She's never backed down from a challenge and is smart enough to fight the battles she can win and send others to win the one's she can't," Hope explained. "I have admired her for some time."   "I know you wanted Hope to be put at ease," Iona related. "She's surrounded by people she has minimal familiarity with. I reasoned that I could help her adjust by doing what you do."   "Sexy, clever, lethal girls; this is definitely going on my Santa Wish List," I grinned. I was trying to settle in behind Hope when she wiggled around onto her back and indicated she wanted me to move between her and Iona. I was hardly in the mood to refuse and soon, both ladies were nestled in my arms. I was thinking about the next step when the situation around Mercy increased in energy and volume.   Hope pushed halfway over my chest and Iona turned away from me so they could watch the proceedings. Mercy was shivering like a leaf in a thunderstorm. Rio moved up so that her face was inches away from Paige's. I could see Paige contemplating her next action before she leaned into Rio. They each placed a hand behind the other's head to keep them close as they kissed.   "You smart-ass hooker," Rio snickered. "What flavor is that?" Mercy was cresting toward her orgasm unattended while Rio made small talk with Paige.   "Mango, lip balm and mouth wash," Paige beamed triumphantly. Rio snorted.   "Really start hammering the bitch," Rio ordered/requested. Paige nodded. She slowly drew back until only the tip of the fake phallus remained in Mercy's rectum before savagely slamming it all the way in as hard as she could.   Mercy squealed through her gag and began to violently spasm. Rio dismounted Mercy and flopped beside her partner's head.   "Don't you dare lose it, Cum-Bunny," Rio pressed Mercy. "Disappoint me and you will get nothing until the weekend. I won't let you touch anyone, even yourself. Are we clear?"   Mercy sobbed and nodded while her body teetered on the precipice of total collapse. Paige was displeased with Mercy's resistance and began spanking her thighs and buttocks hard enough to leave imprints. Rio kept stroking Mercy's hair and urging her to hang on. At the pinnacle of the moment I knew Mercy could not go on, Rio spoke softly into her ear.   "You annoying whore," she said, "I am so proud to be with you. Don't ever leave, now cum." Mercy's resulting climax was so powerful that her muscle spasms knocked Paige back on her heels knocking the strap-on mostly out of her ass. Mercy squirted, really squirted, onto Paige's lap, with even more juice shooting and coating Mercy's thighs and my sheets.   Up front, Mercy was cursing up a storm through her gag, grinding the fabric between her teeth with tears streaming out of her clenched eyes. Before her thrashing subsided, Rio had pulled the gag off and was kissing her fiercely on the lips, again and again. Mercy curled into a ball and Rio immediately wrapped her arms and legs around her Sub, keeping her presence light but comforting.   Rio saw our attention being directed their way and mouthed: 'Best Bitch Ever!' using her eyes to exaggerate the force of the words. Paige was still looking over the sticky mess that she had become.   "Put the contraption to soak in the big sink and take a shower," I suggested. Paige could see no flaw in my suggestion so she gave me a wink, unstrapped the device, and made her way out of the room.   When my eyes snapped back from watching a naked Paige exit, I saw that Hope's focus was on me.   "That looked fun," Hope stated clinically. "It is not for me but it definitely looked like they all felt, cleaner in a spiritual sense when they were done. I would never have suspected. In fact, I thought being bound was debasing and weak."   "It is called bondage and it is part of a sexual practice called BDSM, bondage, discipline, sadomasochism," I explained. "It definitely isn't for everyone, and certainly isn't as bizarre as Iona's furry fetish."   "Zane," Hope glared, "I saw a CSI episode on furries and you can't be an Asian or Asian-American high school girl in the United States and not know about cosplay; Iona and I are not into either one of those lifestyles I'm pretty sure."   While Hope was distracting me with her knowledge of other sexual subcultures, Iona snuck a hand beneath me and pinched my right ass cheek.   "Ow," I jumped. "What was that for, Beautiful?" I pleaded to Iona.   "I wanted to?" she responded meekly.   "That sounds like a perfectly good reason to me," I smiled. I would be somewhat offended if it was someone else but Iona was special; like Rio, she would always have my back, but unlike my chaotic fiend, she never abused my trust (or so I thought).   "Do me a favor?" Iona requested.   "Sure, anything for you," I answered right off the bat.   "Make her happy," Iona's eyes sparkled as the flickered to Hope. "Tickle my ear when you finish."   "Sure," I sighed with feigned regret, "if I have to."   "Thank you, Iona," Hope snorted in amusement, "I've got it from here."   "Nite-nite," Iona yawned, then rolled over and pretended to drop off to sleep. Like that was going to happen anytime soon!   "What no-, Hope got out before I rolled on top of her. I used one leg to wedge hers open, then settled between them as I lowered my body down. Hope looked at me quizzically.   "Touch me wherever you like," I instructed. I showed her what I meant by kissing her cheek, then edging around to suck on her earlobe.   Hope led off with her fingertips running along the muscles of my forearms and following a twisted trail up to my shoulders. With equal care, she began rubbing her toes along my calves, up to my knees and lower thighs. This had the added benefit of rotating her hips so that her pubic hair scratched along the veins of the base of my cock.   "You know this is going to make field work with you far more difficult," Hope murmured.   "Now you know what I've been going through for a month," I teased her back. "Now you know how I feel naked under your touch and so do I."   "You touch yourself much?" Hope giggled. Iona did her best to smother her own mirthful reaction.   "Maybe you should come to my bed more often to keep my hands otherwise occupied," I suggested. Hope arched her back, thrusting her breasts into my chest and laughed lyrically.   "Touch ," Hope conceded. "I wondered if I was imposing on your hospitality, wanting to spend tonight with you. Now I'm feeling as if I've been lured in and seduced by your masculine wiles."   "Zane, manipulating somebody!" Valarie gave a comedic gasp. "Well, there is always a first time for our ham-handed Lothario to launch a plot that doesn't involve him getting an extra fish stick for dinner."   "Ham-handed," Barbie Lynn mused. "His fingers are smoking but hardly ham-like," which she emphasized by rubbing her hand over her crotch.   "Do you often stick smoked country ham between your thighs, Barbie-Baby?" Valarie taunted.   "Only when your magic tongue and fingers aren't available," Barbie Lynn volleyed right back.   "Oh, you did not say that!" Valarie choked. She vaulted on top of Barbie Lynn and the two started wrestling. Vivian scooted toward the edge and fended off the combatants from rolling over her.   "When we graduate and drag you back to our dungeon to live, are you going to miss other bed partners having these mid-coital conversations?" Hope smirked.   "You underestimate your ability to focus my attention," I countered. When you are in bed with someone, you are in bed with THAT person, or so I believe. Hope's look sizzled, her body heated up, and she pulled me so close and tight, I couldn't make out any details beyond her eyes.   "I hate them," Hope purred.   "Who?" I worried. You don't want one good friend to hate another good friend. You really don't want a good friend with marksmanship skills out the ass not liking someone you have become attached to.   "Christina and Heaven," she sighed, but I knew she wasn't serious. "Christina because you would rather be with her and Heaven because she has you."   "Hope," I maneuvered so I could stroke her cheek, "I can't promise you or anyone else anything beyond this school year. Neither one of us qualifies as 'normal' by any definition of the word. I certainly like being with you, if that matters, and not just in bed. You are beautiful, intense, and serious in a way we shouldn't be."   "Serious is not the most intimate of descriptions," Hope joked, "but I think I know what you mean. As chaotic as your life is, I think we balance each other out." I didn't need words to agree with that; I let us return to our game of touch, kiss, and lick. We were getting back into a playful tempo when the fight between Valarie and Barbie Lynn ended.   There was no hot, spontaneous lesbian eruption; it devolved into Valarie having Barbie Lynn pinned with her wrists on the pillow held over her head. Valarie was trying to administer a 'Wet Willy' (sticking a finger, or tongue, into your opponent's ear) and finally succeeding.   "I give, I give," squealed Barbie Lynn. "Anything, just stop."   "Anything?" Valarie prodded suggestively. Barbie Lynn's very ample bosom heaved with each deep breath she took, which had the effect of rubbing them in circles against Valarie's dangling breasts.   "Come with me to the Southwest this summer," Valarie demanded. Barbie Lynn was still giving it serious thought when Paige came traipsing back in, drying her hair.   "Where in the Southwest?" Paige inquired. Valarie sat up on Barbie Lynn and looked over her shoulder at the albino lass.   "West of Laredo, East of the Pacific, South of Denver and North of Mexico," Valarie answered. "Sant Fe, Vegas, the Painted Desert, places like that." I didn't see coming what happened next.   "Valarie, would you consider allowing to me come along?" Paige asked politely.   "You really want to impress Zane that much?" Valarie divined Paige's intention.   "That, and he's most likely going with Rio as well," Paige responded, "so you are going to need all the help you can get." Rio didn't respond verbally, Mercy was still recovering, but glared with venom.   "What do you add to our little expedition?" Valarie asked.   "I'll do it," Barbie Lynn interjected. "I wasn't sure what I was going to do after graduation but seeing more of the world will do me good, and I hear it is cold in the desserts at night and I don't want Zane to catch a chill," she adds with a smile.   "I speak Spanish, plus a strong understanding of electronics, botany, and computers," Paige continued with a twinge of annoyance toward Barbie.   "Fine, both are in. We are getting our rides tomorrow afternoon at five," Valarie announced.   "Zane," Hope whispered, "I appreciate the silence of our first date now more than ever."   "We can go back to your place?" I offered.   "Oh, Chastity would love that," Hope snickered playfully. "I'm afraid if you don't ravish her in the next few weeks, she is going to rape Heaven."   "I'll keep that in mind, but right now I want to be where I am, with you," I kissed Hope's nose.   "Can I try something, Zane?" Hope turned serious and introspective.   "Of course," I said.   "Paige, come over here with me," Barbie Lynn suggested. The blonde wiggled over so that Valarie fell to the far side and indicated that Paige should join her.   "You only want to sex up my body," Paige accused Barbie Lynn, as she hopped onto the foot of the bed and put her fists defiantly on her hips.   "But of course I do, Paige-shugah," Barbie Lynn licked her lips, "now get over here and give me a taste."   "Oh. In that case, Paige scampered over and reclined next to the dynamite blonde. Barbie Lynn had a strong, subtly alluring persona while Paige was constantly aggressive.   "A naked Paige Zeller sexual molesting an equally naked Barbie Lynn Masters will go down as yet another thing I never thought I'd see," Hope mused.   "Be careful who you think is molesting who," I cautioned Hope. A few seconds later Paige shook and fluttered. Barbie Lynn had slid a stealthy hand between Paige's thighs.   "Oh, someone's been a bad little kitty," Barbie Lynn cooed, "A bad, soaking wet little kitty." Paige hiccupped, then shuddered again. "Does kitty need to be petted," Barbie asked as she stroked Paige's love box, "or does kitty need to be spanked?" And Barbie Lynn spanked Paige's cunt lightly, making Paige jerk.   "Master, I stand corrected," Hope nodded her head to me in respect of my sexual insight.   "You wanted to do something?" I brought Hope back on track.   "Yes, Zane, yes I did," Hope smiled. "Please lie on your back and close your eyes." It was my turn to nod as I complied with her wishes. She settled her haunches on my crotch and waited a moment.   First was a kiss, followed in slow progression by a finger, nose, earlobe, toe, two fingers coated in her juices, two fingers coated in Paige's juices, a nipple (most likely the right), her other nipple coated in Barbie Lynn's juices, Valarie's tongue (given away by the movement toward me), Hope's tongue, her other big toe, and ending with her lips and tongue. The anticipation of what was coming next was fun. As Hope reclined on top of me, Mercy finally began to stir.   "Were you a good little tramp tonight?" Rio panted hungrily at her partner.   "Yes, I, was I?" Mercy rasped. She was fighting to stay awake, her fatigue a heavy burden to bear.   "The Slut will say 'Yes Mistress; yes I was allowed to be good tonight'," Rio nuzzled Mercy's neck, ear, and jaw.   "Yes, Mistress," Mercy purred. "My wonderfully annoying Mistress allowed me to be good tonight." Rio spanked Mercy's burning hot ass flank hard. Mercy flinched and cried out in pain.   "Did I tell you to adlib, you annoying, frustrating skank," Rio taunted her, "or is my whore clever enough to sneak in an undeserved spanking?"   Mercy buried her face in a pillow but I could swear she was smiling.   "Nipple clamps for you in the morning, and I'm getting those bitches pierced on Saturday, got it?" Rio clarified the point by rolling each nipple between her forefinger and thumb. Mercy nodded but kept her face in the pillow. "Fine, let's get underneath the covers. Snuggle up with me to keep me warm, and you had better suckle my nipples.   Rio took up her normal sleeping area, avoiding the wet spot, with Mercy at her side, her tongue playing with Rio's left nipple.   "Mercy," Rio whispered. Mercy kept tongue-flicking the nipple but looked up.   "You rock," Rio said even softer. Mercy pulled more of her weary body over Rio as the nipple play continued and Rio began stroking her paramour's hair lovingly. In that relationship, it was getting harder to determine who the 'better' half was.   I searched around blindly for some lube, which had 'mystically' migrated under Barbie Lynn's pillow.   "Hope, put some oil on my cock and on your ass cleft," I told my Korean princess. She barely broke her iron mask of indifference before taking the bottle and doing as directed. I caught sight of Valarie, Vivian, and Barbie Lynn all peeking my way.   I imagined it was the curiosity about my apparent decision to 'break' Hope in anally.   "Hope, point my cock up and mount it," I directed. In theme with the game the two of us played, Hope took my commands without question, even to the point where her virginity was in question.   "Push it back," I stopped Hope's decent as it contacted her rather moist slit. She pushed back a little. Being a virgin, she probably wasn't sure where in the cunt, a cock should penetrate. "Farther back," I insisted, then again, "no, still farther." I felt my rod separate her ass cheeks as Hope slid on down. Only when her now soaking mound settled on my pubic bone did she figure out the game.   "Ah, that's cold," Valarie whispered to Vivian and Barbie Lynn.   "No ass sex for Hope tonight," lamented Barbie Lynn. My precious blonde really loved anal sex. I put my hands on Hope's hips to support her.   "Now ride me, Hope," I smiled. "Give me everything you've got."   Hope started out slow, working out a rhythm that pushed my shaft and cockhead as deep along her ass crack as possible. She even stopped for a moment and applied more lube. Soon she was thrusting hard back and up quickly, then allowing a long, leisurely ride back to my crotch. She bounced down on me again and again, her resounding impact on my crotch becoming a wetter, smacking sound.   Hope was powerful, vibrant, and strong; she needed little of the guidance provided by my hands on her hips. I decided to move my right hand to her finely groomed pubic hair, then to her soft pubic flesh itself. I alternated between splitting her lips open and massaging her clit. With my left hand, I coaxed stimulation from her right areola and nipple.   This time, instead of scarring me, Hope wrapped her fingers in her hair. She gave a few desperate convulsions, then her whole body tensed backwards.   "Zane! Oh, fuck!" she screamed. Her ass cheeks tried to squeeze my cock in a steel-tight vise but fortunately, the lube caused it to pop free before those buns of steel could turn my man-meat into ground beef (sometimes I visualize too graphically).   "I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't seeing it with my own eyes," Vivian sighed. "A girl comes to a boy

VYS0052 | Goddamn Shit-sucking Vampires - Halloween 2025: The Lost Boys - Vayse to Face with Sorcha Ní Fhlain - Show Notes "Sleep all day. Party all night. Never grow old. Never die." - Sounds exhausting. This is not how Hine and Buckley do Halloween anymore. So, instead of re-living their twenties, or the Lost Decade, as they call it, they talk to Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn about the greatest horror movie of the 1980s, or the Lost Boys, as they call it. Sorcha is a film critic, a writer, an academic - a Reader in Film Studies with a specialism in American Film at Manchester Metropolitan University specialising in Gothic Studies and Horror Cinema, with a particular focus on Vampires - and an all-round legend who helps Hine and Buckley get their teeth stuck deep into Joel Schumacher's 1987 masterpiece without getting lost in the gory details (but never over-looking the Corey details). The Lost Boys stands up well to scrutiny (well, mostly...kind of...) and Sorcha leads a discussion ranging from the transplanting of vampiric folklore from dark-ages Europe to MTV-era USA, the history of the vampire as a metaphor in literature and cinema, the way in which the Lost Boys and contemporary 1980s vampire movies, Near Dark and Fright Night contributed to queer horror, exactly what it is that makes the Lost Boys one of the greatest movies of all time... and what's the deal with the greased up, pumped up, beach-party thrusting sax-player and why is it that he's brilliant? (recorded 6 October 2025) Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn Sorcha's Website (https://www.mmu.ac.uk/staff/profile/dr-sorcha-ni-fhlainn) Sorcha's Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/vampiresorcha/?hl=en) Sorcha's Twitter (https://www.instagram.com/vampiresorcha/?hl=en) Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sorcha_N%C3%AD_Fhlainn) Postmodern Vampires: Film, Fiction, and Popular Culture by Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43291111-postmodern-vampires) Visions of the Vampire: Two Centuries of Blood-sucking Tales, Edited by Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn and Xavier Aldana Reyes - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/54578546-visions-of-the-vampire) Clive Barker: Dark imaginer, Edited by Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/35083074-clive-barker) The Worlds of Back to the Future: Critical Essays on the Films, Edited by Sorcha Ní Fhlainn - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/8514388-the-worlds-of-back-to-the-future) The Lost Boys Lost Boys Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q786UsnOcsY) Lost Boys - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Lost_Boys) Back to the Future Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qvsgGtivCgs) Back to the Future - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Back_to_the_Future) Kiefer Sutherland - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kiefer_Sutherland) Lost Boys - Michael Super Cut (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6kX3GmaUuvs) Jason Patric - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jason_Patric) Corey Feldman - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corey_Feldman) Corey Haim - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corey_Haim) Alex Winter - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alex_Winter) Vampire - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vampire) Clive Barker - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clive_Barker) The X-Files Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HKAR9MYvsQ) The X-Files - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_X-Files) Fright Night Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMRH0RIEjnc) Fright Night - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fright_Night) Interview With the Vampire Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sCmYN6TLd8A) Interview With the Vampire - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interview_with_the_Vampire_(film)) Our Vampires, Ourselves by Nina Auerbach (https://uk.bookshop.org/p/books/our-vampires-ourselves-nina-auerbach/328397?ean=9780226032023&next=t&next=t) Near Dark Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VllIQYnC20s) Near Dark - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Near_Dark) Twilight Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uxjNDE2fMjI) Twlight - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Twilight_(2008_film)) True Blood - Trailer (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Wk3HSiX-vQ) True Blood - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/True_Blood) Thomas Ligotti - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Ligotti) Dracula - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dracula) Zombie - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zombie) John William Polidori - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_William_Polidori) The Vampyre - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Vampyre) Lord Byron - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Byron) Frankenstein - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankenstein) Mary Shelley (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Shelley) Nosferatu - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nosferatu) F. W. Murnau - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/F._W._Murnau) I Am Legend by Richard Matheson - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/I_Am_Legend_(novel)) Dracula (1931) Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VoaMw91MC9k) The Hunger Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7a6YFwC2zKA) The Hunger - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hunger_(1983_film)) Whitley Strieber - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Whitley_Strieber) Michael Chapman (cinematographer) - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Chapman_(cinematographer)) Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV Series) - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buffy_the_Vampire_Slayer) Joel Schumacher - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joel_Schumacher) St. Elmo's Fire (film) - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St._Elmo%27s_Fire_(film)) St. Elmo's Fire Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9Z0Aq8VrN0) Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992 film) - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bram_Stoker%27s_Dracula_(1992_film)) Bram Stoker's Dracula Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpAfqCUaVwg) Dianne Wiest (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dianne_Wiest) Tim Cappello - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Cappello) I Still Believe by Tim Cappello (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdaaGlyu7EQ) "30 Years Ago, The Lost Boys Introduced Me to Queer Cinema" by Alcy Leyva - Bright Wall/Dark Room (https://www.brightwalldarkroom.com/2017/12/01/30-years-ago-lost-boys-introduced-queer-cinema/) "The Night Has its Price: The Queer Fangs of ‘Near Dark'" by Brant Lewis - Dread Central (https://www.dreadcentral.com/editorials/432422/the-night-has-its-price-the-queer-fangs-of-near-dark/) "THE BOYS NEXT DOOR: The Homoeroticism of Fright Night and how it saved my life" by Glenn McQuaid - Gayly Dreadful (https://www.gaylydreadful.com/blog/2019/6/19/the-boys-next-door-the-homoeroticism-of-fright-night-and-how-it-saved-my-life) Family Ties - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Family_Ties) Sorcha's Recommendations Let the Right One In by John Ajvide Lindqvist (https://uk.bookshop.org/p/books/let-the-right-one-in-john-ajvide-lindqvist/2304399?ean=9781848423749&next=t) Let the Right One In Trailer - YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ICp4g9p_rgo) Let the Right One In (film) - Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Let_the_Right_One_In_(film)) Postmodern Vampires: Film, Fiction, and Popular Culture by Dr Sorcha Ní Fhlainn - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43291111-postmodern-vampires) Our Vampires, Ourselves by Nina Auerbach (https://uk.bookshop.org/p/books/our-vampires-ourselves-nina-auerbach/328397?ean=9780226032023&next=t&next=t) Celluloid Vampires: Life After Death in the Modern World by Stacey Abbott - Good Reads (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1960941.Celluloid_Vampires) Queer for Fear: Horror Film and the Queer Spectator by Heather O. Petrocelli - University of Wales Press (https://www.uwp.co.uk/book/queer-for-fear-petrocelli/) Vayse online Website (https://www.vayse.co.uk/) Twitter (https://twitter.com/vayseesyav) Bluesky (https://bsky.app/profile/vayseesyav.bsky.social) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/vayseesyav/) Bandcamp (Music From Vayse) (https://vayse.bandcamp.com/) Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/vayse) Email: vayseinfo@gmail.com Special Guest: Sorcha Ní Fhlainn.

Our bedraggled heroes go somewhere quiet to recoup and disappear for a bit, only for some unfortunate news to come crashing down on Yohan's shoulders.

Christian College Sex Comedy: Part 14 Wagers In 30 parts, By FinalStand. Listen to the podcast at Explicit Novels.             An army is one man's courage and a thousand men's discipline    "Oh! Pay up, pay up," Opal called out. "Damn," bitched Rio. "I keep hoping my boy Zane will develop some standards, but oh, well." "They were betting on you bringing me back for sex?" Paige whispered, but her desire was glowing bright. I shook my head and chuckled. "Don't worry about it; I still see you as a whirling vortex of passionate lust," I assured her. We passed around the Chinese screens that separated my area from the rest of the floor and I was relieved to see everyone but Barbie Lynn had left, and Barbie had curled up on the near side of the bed and was still asleep. As we moved around the bed, Paige's resolve began to falter. "Sit down, let's talk," I said softly. Paige was clearly confused. "The most powerful tool in sex is the brain," I continued. "I want to know you a little better first." "I should be great at this," she replied. "How many boys have you kissed?" I asked as we sat down. She looked surprised by the question. "Two," was her curt response. "Zane, I want you to take my virginity." Now it was my turn to be surprised, but I was only put off for a moment. "Tell me about those two times," I persisted. Paige had started tugging her shirt out from her skirt and was clearly not pleased with my request. "Zane, didn't you hear me? I want you to pop my cherry, break me in, fuck my cunt, whatever you want to call it," she told me. "Yes," I nodded, "and I'm looking forward to that, but answer the question please." "I, I've been kissed by two boys, one kiss per boy," she replied, but I could tell there was more to it. "Do I have to play twenty questions with you?" I gave an exasperated sigh. Paige flushed with anger. "Fine, damn it," she growled. "The first boy, I paid to kiss me on the lips. He did so, and he looked at me like he wanted to throw up." That looked like it hurt her to admit. "The second time, it was a joke, a dare. I closed my eyes, he kissed me on the lips, and then I heard the applause. They congratulated him for kissing the freak," she recited with anguish. "They laughed at me while I ran away." She looked furious and miserable at the same time. I tilted her head up toward me. I let my first kiss barely brush her lips. I let her study my reaction, and then I kissed her again. The third kiss pressed our lips together, and on the fourth, our tongues touched. The fifth saw her wrap her arms around me and hold me tight for nearly a minute. She was panting for breath when we came up for air. I used that moment to pick her up and place us both farther into the bed. "Eep!" she exclaimed, then she started to giggle. I straddled her and dove in to nibble her neck. Paige beat at my chest with her fists but couldn't stop laughing. "That tickles!" We fell back into kissing for a while; Paige didn't need to rush into sex despite her declared desires. "Shouldn't we take our clothes off?" I responded to that by sitting up, grabbing her shirt in both hands over the breasts, and ripping it open. Buttons went flying everywhere and Paige's eyes expressed her shock. I reached for her bra but Paige's hands flew to mine. "Wait," she gasped. "It unsnaps from the front." I even let her open the bra for me, exposing her ghostly breasts and pale pink areolas and nipples. I shifted down Paige's body and latched my lips to her left breast, causing her to cry out in pleasure. "Oh, damn," she purred, "this is so much better in real life." I wasn't sure I knew what that meant, or that I even wanted to know. I feasted on each nipple and breast in turn until they were fully engorged and bright, rosy pink from my attention. She'd spread her legs wide open and was humping her hips up against me. I pulled away long enough to get my shirt off before descending on her for kisses once more. In the midst of that, we rolled over where she grabbed me by the side of the head and covered my face with butterfly kisses. "I've always wanted to do that," she beamed pure joy at me. I moved my hands down her ribs, waist, and hips until I was able to pull up her skirt and grab her ass. Paige aggressively humped me in response, smiling at me and breathing heavy. Without any urging, Paige pushed up my body until she dangled her breast against my lips. I greedily sucked one in, teasing her nipple with my teeth. Paige yelped but followed me down without comment, cradling my head into her chest and rocking me back and forth. "Careful, Honey, he's addictive," Barbie Lynn sleepily intervened. "He's going to take my virginity," Paige exulted. "Is he now?" she grinned at me. "She's asked; I'm considering it, but I want to know she's really ready for it first," I mumbled back between mouthfuls of tit. "Wait," she panted, "you promised me." "Paige, Rule #7 for guys: when sex is involved, we lie," I informed her. "Oh, what lie did you tell Barbie Lynn?" Paige inquired. "He forces me to orgasm so he can bask in my post-orgasmic bliss," Barbie Lynn sighed dreamily. "Besides," I said, as I ran my hands through her fine white hair and tucked a few locks behind her ears, "I am not saying we won't do it, but you are an incredibly tough read and we aren't going to do something I don't think you need." "How come you get to decide?" Paige sounded annoyed. "I'm the only guy you've approached who you didn't find on an escort service website; we are in my bed; and, oh, yeah, I've had sex hundreds of times and you are in all ways a virgin," I listed off the reasons. "Paige, you only get to do this 'first time' once, and I would like it to be something you love and want to do again and again." "Well, I know what I want. I am in your bed and you're half-naked already," she emphasized by grinding her pelvis into me. "I'm also on top and I don't think you can get rid of me that easily." "This one is a little firecracker," Barbie Lynn chuckled. "She's that," I commented, "but you should always be leery of someone who thinks they are always right." My words didn't stop me from pressing my cock up against Paige's twat. "We could always have a little butt-sex instead," I teased. "No!" Paige squeaked. "You are huge and my asshole is tiny." "Oh, God," I laughed. "You actually looked at your ass in a mirror." Paige blushed furiously. "Listen, Paige, trust me on this. You can go into town and find some college guy who will jump at the chance to screw you. What you have to wonder is how much he'll care about you and your needs as well as how good he is at sex. Let's get naked." "Finally," Paige mocked. She rolled off and shed her clothes so fast they left angry red tracks down her legs. I took my time but Paige didn't seem to mind. She reached out and ran a hand over my bicep and shoulder. "He's real enough," Barbie Lynn assured her quietly. "How did you know what I was thinking?" Paige mused. At least she only implied Barbie Lynn was stupid. "Paige, sweetie, how many of us FFU girls expect to be able to choose our man, much less one worth having? And don't you be disparaging of Zane, now, either. I can smell your arousal from here," Barbie Lynn said with a sexy curve to her lips. Paige was thinking of her retort when she gasped as I caught her distracted and slipped two fingers along the folds of her cunt. When her razor sharp focus latched onto me once more, I pushed her onto her back and mounted her. Her legs splayed out to either side and the location of her hips against my stomach reminded me of how narrow her hips were, narrower than even Iona's. She still did her best to wrap her legs around me as she placed her hands on my shoulders. "Are you going to make me scream?" she asked nervously. "Every girl is different so don't worry about it," I grinned. "Besides, I can tell you'll be really good at this." "How can you know I'll be any good at sex?" Paige snapped. Yes, that was the sore point I was looking for. "Your eyes sparkle when you touch me, you react instinctively to my touch, you are in good physical shape, and you're very sensitive all over your body," I explained. "What you saw as fooling around was me mapping out how your body works and where your erogenous zones were. No two women are the same and I love exploring. Now I'm getting back to it." I began placing kisses along her sternum, down toward her navel. Her stomach pulsed when I kissed the belly button. "Oh, aha," Paige moaned. I licked and stroked the area around her navel, causing her torso to gyrate from the sexual stimulation. "Umm, that feels nice." Unlike previous encounters with other women where I avoided the cunt while I worked around it, I instead placed one hand immediately to the area, squeezing two fingers into her cunt and wiggling them around. I left the clit alone for now because I was encouraging a slow boil, not a flash burn. I wanted Paige in an erotically charged high before I challenged her vaginal virginity. Paige's skin had this false translucent quality to it that was exciting to watch. You could track the arousal of a touch by the blood rushing to the skin around the excited area. Physically, she could conceal nothing, and she was far from sexually experienced enough to stifle her vocalizations of pleasure. "I just want to be fucked," she moaned," I just want to be fucked, aha, oh." Her words said one thing but her body expressed its desire for more excitement. "No, she groaned as she ground her hips against my lips. When I stabbed my tongue to her clit, she acted like a jolt of electricity arched through her body. Now, when I've performed cunnilingus on a girl, I expect a bit of movement; I'm doing something wrong if she lays there. Paige was all over the place, pulling away then thrusting back as well as rolling her hips rapidly side to side. At the moment her thrashing turned into trembles, I withdrew my lips and fingers, causing Paige to whimper and look down at me. "Huh?" she pleaded. I gave her a mischievous grin, then blew on her clit. Paige hiccupped, then threw her head down on the bed violently. I began sucking on the inside of her thighs for about one minute, letting her settle down, then leapt on her clit with my tongue once more. "Oh, God!" Paige squealed. I moved my tongue off, trading off with two fingers parting her labia and flicking her clit with my thumb. I alternated back and forth over five minutes until I noticed Paige was sobbing and tearing up the sheets with her fists. "Have mercy, Zane," Barbie Lynn whispered. I gave a quick nod before placing my lips around Paige's clit and sucking on it with growing intensity plus twirling the tip of my tongue along its tip. I also made tiny fucking motions with two fingers into her cunt. She didn't last thirty seconds. "Oh, my, God, Zane!" she growled. She wasn't loud but she rumbled her orgasm from deep in her chest. It was kind of surprising, coming from such a lithe, ephemeral being. Paige was sucking down further sounds internally so that they were merely sobs. I crawled up to her side, rested sidewise, propped up by an elbow, and placed a hand on her stomach as I watched over her. When she started gasping for air, her eyes locked with mine once more. Paige feebly pushed on my chest so I let her push me on my back. She struggled to rise over me, then collapsed on my chest. "I, that was, you still didn't fuck me," she wheezed. I sighed in frustration, pulled Paige on top of me, chest to chest, and then began playing slap-happy with her ass. "Ow,ow, ow, ow, ow," she squalled. "Stop that; I bruise easily," she added, with tears in her eyes. "Damn it, woman, is it going to kill you to accept that I know what I'm doing?" I responded angrily. "Since you are clearly clueless, what we just did was foreplay. I wanted to relax your body before we moved to the next step." Paige had enough common sense to look embarrassed but not enough to keep quiet. "Well my ass still hurts," she pouted. "What?" I questioned. "Did you say you wanted me to hurt your ass?" I grabbed each ass cheek and pulled them apart. "No!" she squeaked, "You are too big." She grabbed my hands in her smaller grip and tried to pry them off. We rocked back and forth until we rolled over. She struggled but I soon ended on top of her, Paige on her stomach, and my legs prying hers open. "No, no," she pleaded as she felt my cock resting on her ass cleft. "Relax," I whispered into Paige's ear, "have you ever heard of doggy style?" "You aren't, going to have anal sex with me?" she gulped. I pushed my body up and after a moment, Paige followed, pressing her back against my torso once more. "I'd never do anything to you that you didn't want me to," I assured her, "though I am going to have you begging me to bugger you before this semester is over." "Uh-uh," Paige assured me, "not going to happen," but she did wiggle her ass against me playfully, testing my resolve. I balanced on one hand so I could use the other to pull her hair away from one side to the other. Her neck, ear, and the side of her face were now revealed. I sucked on her shoulder while I repositioned my cock so that it slid down her ass, past her anus and cunt, so that it pressed along her pubic mound from below. Paige began humming pleasurably and gyrating her hips against me. I put my free hand on her breast and massaged it as well. "Promise me you won't keep me waiting this time," she murmured. "Promise you'll take me." "Of course I will, Paige. You have to relax and enjoy yourself and not get worked up about us having sex," I comforted her. She rocked against me and I pushed back. "Nice and slow," I cautioned her. "I'm not going anywhere." With a little effort, she did as I requested. I kept running my hand down from her breast to her stomach, each time going a little farther down. She'd tilted her shoulders and neck so that we could kiss but she also found my lips on her neck to be tantalizing. I was tricky enough that I had my cockhead parting her puffy lips before she realized it. In fact, I had three separate penetrations that elicited moans, then she looked up at me. "Don't be afraid," I told her sympathetically. "Remember the faces of all the girls you've seen me with while we are having sex and know that it is going to be just as good for you." Paige looked down at the mattress and nodded her head. She pushed back but it wasn't easy. Her entrance felt like a vice restricting my entrance. Even totally wet, her vaginal muscles were blocking my progress initially. I patiently kept at it, incrementally advancing with each coaxing touch. When I brushed against her hymen, Paige didn't even recognize the moment had come. I subtly brought my arm down to her stomach and wrapped her up in my arm while teasing her ear with my teeth. "Yip!" Paige exclaimed as I pierced her virginity. "Oh, God, it burns," she sobbed. I gave her a few seconds to adjust before penetrating even deeper. "No," she moaned, and tried to pull away, but I didn't let her. "Zane," she pleaded for me to let her go. "It hurts." I kept at it. "I never thought it would hurt this bad, please." She gave one final gasp as I pressed the final inch into her, then we remained there, locked in sexual congress while she wept and trembled underneath me. I considered it a minor miracle Paige had remained on her hands and knees as we reached this point. Now I had to get her past the stage where pain dominated pleasure. "We'll move when you feel you are ready," I instructed her. Paige nodded, then nothing else for some time. She caught me off guard when she flexed her grasp on my cock. "Umm," she purred. "Did you feel that?" My groan was my reply. Paige pulled away a tiny bit until the pain kicked in and she stopped. Seconds later she repeated the process, withdrawing several inches, then reversing the procedure and allowing me deeper in once more. "It hurts less," she admitted. A moment later as she shifted to a faster rhythm, "it is really quite nice." "You might want to ask Zane how he is doing," Barbie Lynn chided Paige. "But I honestly don't care," Paige noted. "If you want to do this again, you might want to start caring," Barbie informed her. I winked at the blonde sex angel. "Zane, do you like having sex with me?" Paige asked in a much kinder tone than normal. She must have been truly appreciating the lovemaking she was receiving. "It feels like you are trying to rip my cock off," I ground out. "You are damn tight, then you are adding those contractions on top of that. I may not be able to have sex for a week." "Paige, I like you, but if Zane is telling the truth, I going to seriously rearrange your anatomy," Barbie Lynn promised with dangerous intent. "I apologize," Paige pouted. To prove how sorry she wasn't, Paige rotated her hips down then back up several times rapidly. So that's how she wanted to play it. I placed both hands on her shoulders and let her make a few more tentative moves before slamming my member all the way in. "Oh, fuck," she gasped. I slowly drew back my full length, then rocketed back in time and time again. Paige was sweating and panting from earlier exertions but now she was barely hanging on. Slap, slap, slap, my hips mashed against her ass. Paige gave a breathless grunt each time I drilled her, and that was followed by a relieved sigh as I pulled back. By the desperation in her voice, I knew she wouldn't last much longer. "Oh! My! Fucking! God!" she growled loudly. I now knew what it felt like to have put my cock in a fire hose and had some asshat turn the water on. Paige's cunt juice had been plentiful the first time she had an orgasm. This time they were copious and forceful, and my cock was simply in the way; what got past stung the hell out of my ball sack. Normally I have really good control over my sexual climax but I was being sorely tested. Worse, I couldn't simply pop out of Paige because that would cause her pain. The odds of her using birth control were next to nil and none, so it fell to me to find something to center my mind and not ejaculate. "Zane, are you okay?" Barbie Lynn said in a hushed, worried tone. I could only nod. Paige was erratically pushing up and down on my cock, to the point where I grabbed her hips in order to not have a nasty accident when her muscles relaxed and my overstimulation ended. "Don't, move," I panted painfully to Paige. Paige didn't quite comply but I didn't blame her because her arms gave out and she slumped forward. I held up her rear by my hold on her hips. I carefully let her slide off my cock and finish splaying out on the bed. I sat back on my heels, breathing deeply and fighting for control. "Come here, Baby," Barbie Lynn ordered, picking up on my distress. I moved over Paige's leg toward Barbie and she joined me by turning around, meeting me half way. "I've got this," she purred, as she wrapped my cock in one hand and placed her lips over the head. Despite Paige's vaginal fluids and some blood, Barbie loved it. She bobbed up and down twice before my resolve finally crumbled. "Cumming," I gasped. Barbie Lynn shot me a quick grin, then pumped and sucked with renewed vigor. When I started ejaculating, Barbie Lynn made some half-hearted swallowing efforts but I knew she was holding something back. I smiled at her as I ran my hand through her honeyed locks. When I finished unloaded into Barbie Lynn's mouth, I pulled her up, she leaned into my body, and we kissed. I tasted my semen on my tongue as we swapped fluids. Barbie Lynn licked her lips in a highly sensual manner as we broke our kiss. She gave me a little wink, acknowledging how much I'd changed her in our short time together: kinky, sexy, and beautiful. "Whoa," whimpered Paige as she opened her eyes and looked in our direction. "That was intense." She sighed and took a deep breath. "I should have mentioned this earlier, you didn't need to pull out. I had, issues when I was little and my ovaries were removed. I'm never going to have children." I switched back to Paige and kissed her on the forehead. This was probably time for some sympathy, if Paige had been anything approaching a normal girl. "You fucking wait to tell me this now?" I chided her. "Do you have any idea the panic attack you put me through? I was stuck inside you and you were so damn hot I nearly lost it. I was trying to figure out what I was going to tell your father, damn it!" "Father?" she seemed confused for a second, then, "Oh. Why would I ever marry you?" "I'm a billionaire philanthropist genius playboy," I joked. "You are Iron Man?" she mocked me. "Or Batman, your choice," I volleyed back. "If you hadn't made me feel so fantastic right now, I'd recode your computer to operate in Mandarin," she snickered. "Iron Man is one of my heroes and I will not have him mocked by the likes of you." "Clearly, the first round of spanking didn't work, but I'm nothing if not persistent," I glowered. Paige's hands flew to her vulnerable and still rather red backside. "Don't you dare," she threatened. I pivoted, she flinched, then I leaned down and kissed her ass cheek. "What?" she murmured then I kissed her again and again. I slowly pried her hands away and soon had planted little signs of affection all over her tender, sore flesh. "Kiss ass," Paige teased. I had to wonder if she was taking social lessons from Rio. "Tell me something: how did you get to be so quiet? I'm normally pretty good at not letting anyone sneak up on me but you have done it to me twice already," I asked. "That's not a totally stupid question," Paige answered. "I have been basically friendless most of my life, if you don't count the internet. I was small, different, and was picked on. I learned to be quiet and go unnoticed," she explained. "I admit to having a harder time with you than with most people." "Because I lived out in the jungle and became more observant?" I queried. "No," she sighed in exasperation. "Because I've wanted to grab you and drag you back to my room since I first laid eyes on you, Zane. Mentally, you are unremarkable, but physically, you scream out 'Sex, sex, sex!'" That observation made Barbie Lynn laugh out loud. My pained and confused expression only caused them to laugh louder. Someday I'm going to come out on top of one of these exchanges. Then I'm going to run away from school because I want to leave on a high note and I'm not likely to ever win a second time. Girls, Relationships and the Chancellor too. "Zane? God Damn it, Zane!" Raven screeched at me as she barged into my room. What could I say? Barbie Lynn was halfway under the sheets but her tumultuous breasts were clearly exposed. Paige was totally naked, face down on the other side of me but had clearly been fucked thoroughly and her tight pale ass spanked hard. Oh, yeah, and I was kneeling between the two, totally naked as well. I vaulted over Barbie Lynn (who was closer to the entrance and Raven) because I didn't want to hurt her injured knee, snatched up my robe, and put it on. "Very complicated, long story, we can laugh about it later," I dazzled Raven. I took her by the elbow and headed her out of my bedroom. "Why don't we study on the far side of the main Solarium?" The look of betrayal in Raven's eyes destroyed any doubt that she was crushing on me in a big way. For the love of God, I really needed to find some lesbians to hang out with because these straight chicks were driving me crazy. Before we could leave, Iona nearly piled into us. "I'm sorry, Zane. She slipped past me," Iona apologized. "I only wanted to talk with him and, and he was in bed with yet another girl," Raven bitched. "I'm still ready to study with you," I offered. "How can we study if you are always having sex with other women?" she stomped her foot in frustration. Iona shot me a worried look. I put a hand on Raven's shoulder and made eye contact. "Raven, I promise you we will get this project done, you'll get your good grade, and I'll carry my part of the project. I'm here for you," I assured Raven. "You, you aren't giving any thought about us, our project together," was her accusation. "What do you want me to do?" I asked evenly. "I, I think I should go to Ms. Goodswell and request another partner," Raven sighed. I looked to Iona who looked to the living area past the Jacuzzi. "Ms. Goodswell is right over there," Iona indicated our teacher who was sitting with Dana and five other teachers who had come in while I was, busy. "Your place has controlled access," Iona answered my unasked question as to why I had so many other educators in my place. "Bazz's people can 'accidentally' step in." Raven was not deterred by the other teachers hanging around Virginia as she made a beeline across the room. At least she was polite enough to wait while Virginia disengaged from the others so she could talk to us. "Raven, Zane, how can I help you?" Ms. Goodswell inquired, yet I had a sneaking suspicion that she was way ahead of the situation. "Ms. Goodswell," Raven started, "I really need to get a new project partner." "Why is that, Raven?" Virginia asked. "We simply aren't working out," she sounded exasperated. "And, I think the other girls were right; I don't feel safe around him," she tacked on. I lowered my head and sighed. This sucked. "Very well. Zane, do you want a new partner?" Virginia turned to me. "Sure, whatever. If Raven doesn't feel safe, she deserves someone new," I shrugged. "Alright, then, but I want you two to know a few things," Virginia began. "First off: Raven, I don't like being lied to." She held up a hand to forestall Raven's protest. "You were so uncomfortable with Zane's presence that you came up to his dorm uninvited, asked his whereabouts, and went into his bedroom unescorted. At what point in time did you feel unsafe?" "He was in bed with two girls, Barbie Lynn Masters and Paige Zeller," Raven said angrily. "Did you ask Zane what was going on or did you simply assume something and storm out?" Virginia stated. Raven opened her mouth, then shut it. "Now, do you think I assigned you to Zane solely because you answered one question incorrectly?" "You mean why I didn't want Zane as a partner initially?" Raven suggested. "Precisely. Raven, you scored the tenth highest placement score for English. That is why you are in my room, I have the top twenty freshmen in my class. Do you know what Zane's placement rank was?" "I don't know," she finally admitted. "He was second," she informed Raven, and me. I had no idea and really, such things don't interest me. "Raven, I didn't place you with Zane to help out Zane; I put you with Zane to help you." "Oh," Raven said in a small voice. "I didn't know." "What you have committed is reverse discrimination," Virginia explained. "Everyone assumes that since Zane is attractive, that he's not too bright. It is the same way most guys perceive bubbly blondes with big breasts, mentally insignificant." "Finally, your real problem with Zane is not his intelligence, his self-control, or the time he is willing to spend with you; it is his libido," Ms. Goodswell instructed. "You may want to ask yourself why you are upset with what Zane does with other students in his spare time and discuss this with him. He is standing right next to you, after all, and he could be elsewhere if he desired." "Very well," Raven conceded, "I'll work with Zane as long as he agrees to not get distracted while we are together." She looked to me for confirmation. "Agreed, I mean, I will try," I responded. Raven didn't seem totally satisfied but she allowed my promise to stand. "Let's get started." "Good," she said, but then she hesitated while she looked around at the other girls in various groups in the Solarium. "Let's go back to my room," I suggested. Seeing her skeptical look, "I need my tablet and then we can pick out a place and start studying." "Why do I need to come with you?" she glared. "With you, I'll be safe," I informed her. "Sometimes the ladies can forget I am here to get a degree and you help remind them of that with your seriousness." Raven shrugged and followed me back to my room. When we got there, Barbie Lynn was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling up her socks. She was otherwise dressed. Paige was spread-eagled on the middle of the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Hey, Zane," Paige smiled. "Are you finished?" "We came back for his tablet, Paige," Raven growled. "We haven't started yet. Stay where you are; we have work to do." Paige's mouth dropped open in shock and outrage (Raven is a freshman, after all). I was happy Raven didn't call Paige a slut because I knew that was actively on her mind. I grabbed my backpack, retrieved another bathrobe from the wardrobe, and walked over to Paige. "Here you go. Take a little time in the Jacuzzi," I suggested. "I have nothing to wear," Paige rolled her eyes at my stupidity. "Go naked; you have a beautiful body that's a pleasure to behold," I told her. Paige studied me, weighing my dare to her. Barbie Lynn shot me a smile and a wink for me pressuring Paige. "Zane, we need to go," Raven insisted. She took hold of my elbow but didn't try to move me. "As you wish," I bowed to Raven. As we turned to leave, Paige called out, "The Princess Bride!" she laughed. Raven looked at me to make some sense of that. "It is a movie I like; it's old," I explained. We trecked out but I deviated from our course long enough to grab Rio, who was publically molesting Mercy. "Take it to an alcove, you two," I said softly. Rio challenged my stance but then we both started chuckling. "I can't promise to keep it quiet, Bro," she winked. "Stuff your panties in her mouth," I suggested. "I'm not wearing any," she grinned. "Put her panties in her mouth, then," I told her. "She's not wearing any either," Rio teased me. "Fine, I give up," I threw up my hands and continued off with Raven. "Was it like this for you, before you came here?" Raven asked me once we sat down in an isolated area. "It was different but similar. After a few weeks everyone knew everyone else, so it wasn't like us kids weren't aware of one another," I explained. "So you've always lived like this?" Raven sounded incredulous. "Raven, how would you describe your relationship with your parents?" I began. "I'm not sure what that has to do with anything but my father died of cancer when I was twelve and I have been raised by my mother ever since," Raven explained. "We are pretty close and we've both worked to raise my brother, who is four years younger than me." "So you had a partnership of sorts," I filled in. Raven nodded. "My parents and I were very close; we did almost everything together, and I was a part of their lives for as long as I can remember. When they died, I went to the far side of the globe to guardians who didn't want me hanging around, yet expected me to act in a very restricted moral way with no training or incentive." "My Uncle only had enough time for me to punish me for not living up to his moral code while my Aunt parroted his beliefs. I guess it was only natural that I formed my own code of ethics and relationships. I had a strong sexual curiosity and personality that drove me to express it," I added. "Where is this going?" Raven sighed. "It means I have no serious understanding of monogamy outside of marriage. Worse, I have little respect for restrictive authority. Mindless discipline strikes me as unnatural. Don't get me wrong, though; I don't really care how you, or anyone, choses to live, as long as you respect that right in others." "Couldn't you have conformed to what the rest of us want at this school?" Raven countered. "This is a Christian Girls School and we shouldn't be having sex." "I think we have a fundamental misunderstanding here," I nodded. "We both accept that I want to have sex, but why do you assume that some girls here don't?" "That is not what matters," Raven declared. "What matters is that they wouldn't be succumbing to temptation if you weren't here." "That, I have to agree with you there," I admitted, which stunned Raven. "I doubt any of the girls I am with now would go trolling the local college for guys to score with." "So you see what a problem you are and how you shouldn't be at FFU," Raven concluded. "Belief without temptation has no merit," I quoted. "A promise to abstain from boys is nothing more than empty platitudes if there are no boys around." "Zane, we came here because no boys are allowed. Our pledge is a declaration of solidarity with our fellow students," Raven stated. "But the pledge is voluntary so you should respect their decision to do something else if the situation changes," I suggested. "A lot of girls here treat me nicely but aren't jumping my bones, girls like you." Raven didn't comment for several seconds. "I only wish more girls felt like I did," she said weakly. "Well, I'm glad you feel that way about me," I told her, as I pulled my legs up to a lotus position, adjusted my robe, and got ready to work, "because I find you very attractive and that would make things difficult." "Yes, that would make things difficult," Raven muttered sadly. It didn't really matter how Raven ended up beside me, her legs curled up under her and her head poised at my shoulder looking over our choices of works to read through. She didn't have Iona's insightful genius but she had a dedication to detail that was remarkable. She was apparently impressed with my ability to link Irrelevant Detail A with Curious Reference B. In two hours, Raven was excited over the progress we'd made. "Of course you are happy," I teased her; "you expected nothing from me so everything you get is a bonus." "I apologize," she said softly. "Don't worry about it," I chuckled, "you are hardly the first girl on this campus to think I'm an idiot." No sooner had I spoken those words than Paige hopped over the seat behind me and took the armrest of the chair opposite Raven. "You are a moron, not an idiot," Paige corrected me. "Now, it has been two hours and I've finished my homework. Let's go." "Hey!" snapped Raven. "Excuse me, but did we have plans?" I addressed Paige crossly. "You have been sitting over here for two hours with this bimbo. If she hasn't finished working with you by now, she's even duller than she looks," Paige informed us. "Bimbo!" responded Raven as she stood up to confront Paige. "Paige," I cautioned, "why are you doing this? This is way beyond your normal anti-personnel skills." "I don't like her, and I like her spending time with you even less," Paige declared. "At least I didn't have to spread my legs to make him spend time with me," Raven retorted. That seemed to upset Paige so I intervened. "That's not true," I told Raven. "I hang out with Paige because she is intriguing and smart, like you. Anything else is a private matter between her and me." "I don't like her," Raven replied. "You suck up oxygen that would be better used by mewling infants," Paige countered. "Enough!" I snapped. I turned, cupped Raven's jaw, and kissed her on the lips, leaving her shocked. I turned to Paige and with my countenance, I let her know she'd gone too far. I walked off, looking for somewhere else to be, but the floor was pretty occupied by freshmen now, in their little groups studying and relaxing. I even caught sight of Rio playing pool with Valerie and enjoying herself. Iona was with a group of students I recognized but Barbie Lynn and the teachers were gone. Only Dana remained, an isolated island of calm, watching her television and drinking her beers. I slouched down on the seat next to my former coach. "You are not getting a beer," she told me. "Do I look like I want a beer?" I sighed. "No, you look like you need a beer," she chuckled, "which is worse." "Man, that is a sad assessment of my situation," I groaned; "accurate, but sad." "You need to say 'No' occasionally, Zane," Dana observed. "Since I can no longer keep these girls safe from you, you need to keep yourself safe from them. If you don't set some boundaries, there is going to be trouble." I digested that for a minute. "You are laughing at me on the inside, aren't you?" I remarked. "Pretty much, yes," Dana winked. "This is some twisted plot of yours to make me take some responsibility, damn you," I continued. "Yep," she quipped. "You would think that having so many girlfriends, or potential girlfriends, would be a great thing," I stated. "My problem is that there are so many wonderful girls to meet and I want to get to know them, and it isn't like I get to know someone in one hour, or one day, or even one year, really." Dana laughed out loud so hard she started to cough. "Who would have thought you were a romantic," she snorted. "If you limited yourself to one-night stands, your life would be far easier." "I frankly don't think that is a possibility for me," I shrugged. "Even Paige?" Dana asked, "I know she annoys the crap out of you and she's a total stalker." "She is not," I defended Paige. "She's different but I like her intensity." Dana smirked and a set of arms wrapped around me from behind. Paige rested her head on my shoulder and kissed my ear. "I came back to bitch you out for taking Raven's side over mine," she said softly, "but now I think I'll simply forgive you and be done with it." "Damn it, Paige," I snapped nervously, "would you stop sneaking up on me?" "No," she responded after a moment's introspection. "I want you to be somewhat afraid of me." "Paige, you might want to consider what the hundred and some other girls are going to do to you when they learn you want exclusive rights to Zane," Dana grinned. "We don't have to be exclusive," Paige informed her, like I wasn't even there (this happens to me way too much). "He only needs to be available when I need him. We'll work out other arrangements for us by the end of the semester." "Paige, you accept me on my terms or we don't get together at all," I warned her. "Part of your appeal is that you do so many other things so well," I continued. "You don't need me." "Zane, I gave you, she reminded me with a mixture of anger and sadness. "Paige, you were my first, too," I enlightened her. "I've never taken a woman's virginity before." "It was special to me," she whispered. I turned my head and shoulders far enough around to kiss her. "It was special for me, too, but I know it meant more to you. What I did can't compare to what you went through," I related. "It is not meant to. I haven't forgotten my first time; that doesn't change the fact that I love someone else and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. It has nothing to do with you or any of the other girls. I feel she is the one for me and it doesn't make rational sense," I explained. "I respect that, Zane," Paige allowed. "You are an idiot and a moron; I'm going to need to train you to accept what is best for you, which is me. I became a woman through your exertions and I'm not willing to surrender that glorious feeling to anyone." Dana laughed uproariously while I groaned in despair. "Fine, I'll let you deal with Christina and company," I grumbled. I stood up and disentangled from Paige. She followed me around the sofa until she was cuddled up against me. "Do we have some time?" she inquired while rolling her hip along my pelvis and getting a response from my suicidal cock. "Dinner first, but I wouldn't be opposed to some bedroom time with you," I grinned to Paige. "I'm thinking a hot oil massage, then some cowgirl action." That definitely excited her. Food did end up taking precedence over sex because I was desperately hungry. The meal time was tense, with bandaged members on both sides of the aisle. The big news was that the Board of Directors was meeting tomorrow morning in an emergency session. No mention of the fates of Coach Gorman or Heaven was made. When I got back, I borrowed Gorman's phone and I gave Heaven a call. She exploded all over me when she realized it was me and not the Coach. "I was afraid something had happened, damn you," she snapped. "There is a little thing known as caller ID." "Um, Heaven, you didn't let me get a word in," I pointed out. "How are you doing?" "I'm going nuts," she groused. "I think it is worse, being so close and not being able to help." "Being here isn't all that great," I related. "We are all stuck in our rooms, pretty much. The Coach was fired so she's over here, drinking beer and watching TV." "That has to be weird," Heaven noted. "Are you okay?" "Actually, all my problems are solved," I told her. "Paige Zeller has decided she owns me." "Zeller? That little albino Science Club geek?" Heaven muttered. "When I get back, I'll fix her ass." "Gee, thanks," I chuckled, "but I think I can handle her. The important thing is that we are going to get you back, and as soon as we do, " The TV went dead. "What the, a few of the girls working at the computer stations and at their laptops exclaimed. Our answer was twofold. Ms. Marlowe and five security guards came up the stairs and stared out over the room. My 'room' was a lot to take in the first time around. The arrival of campus security explained the loss of outside access. When the guards entered the security code for the door, it had alerted the system the Science Club had put in place and stopped security from finding our illegal hook-ups with a cursory search. "Ms. Gorman," gawked Ms. Marlowe, "do you have beer up here?" Dana raised a half-drained beer up, examining it intently. "Yes, that would seem to be the case, Edith," Dana responded. "Do you want one? I have five left." "No! This kind of behavior is not allowed," Ms. Marlowe declared. "I'm not employed here anymore, or did you miss that outburst this morning?" Dana chuckled. "You can't kick me out of my room for a month, or so my contract states. I'm not letting any of the students have any, if that makes you happy." "Are you drunk?" Edith inquired. "Not yet, but I'd like to be," Dana sighed. "How about you get on with the security sweep you are here for so I can get back to it." Edith Marlowe shook her head in disgust, then dispatched her guards to look around. There was blatant hostility being generated their way by the present student body. On any other day, that anger would have been the end of it, but one girl started handing out pool cues and girls lined up to get them. "Put those down right now," Ms. Marlowe commanded. "Get stuffed," Vanessa Hutchins, a freshman, shot back. She'd been particularly impacted by Rhaine's actions, having been propelled twice down different stairwells. "Zane," Dana cautioned me. I stood up and walked over to Vanessa. I took the pool cue from her hands gently and placed it on the pool table. "Come on, ladies, the sooner we let them get done, the sooner we can get back to ignoring them," I said to the students. Slowly the sticks were put aside and the guards returned to their search. "Ms. Hutchins, you are coming with me," Ms. Marlowe stepped forward. I turned and looked down at her. "Don't press your luck," I told Marlowe evenly. "We aren't resisting this search but tempers are high and only going to get worse if you push things." "Edith, try to remember that you not only have to get out of this room, you have to get out of the building," Dana pointed out. "I underestimated these students so I'm now sitting here drinking beer and considering my job options." Ms. Marlowe looked down her nose at Dana, who didn't appear to give a crap about her opinion, then motioned the guards to resume looking around. Campus Security hadn't been gone five minutes before Rio came running up to me. "Hey! I heard that there was almost a fight here," she asked me. "Nothing much to it," I shrugged. "Vanessa over there decided that Ms. Marlowe should become familiar with the grain of a certain pool cue and I had to put a stop to it." Valerie and Iona came up in time to hear the explanation. "I guess it was too much to hope that the Chancellor would leave you alone," Iona moped. "People with her personality type don't let go easily," Valerie commented. "I've met more than my share in law enforcement. Their power over other people is how they define themselves." "Therefore, we need Zane to keep her preoccupied," Paige gloated. Mother Fucking God! "I'm going to have to get you a collar with a bell, damn it, Paige," I growled to my albino ghost. "Of course," she hugged me, "I'll wear a black velvet one with an electronic chime on it and you get to wear a shock collar so you can keep your limited intellect on the important things." "Important things?" Valerie grinned. "Yes; important things like obeying me," Paige grinned triumphantly. "Paige, could you please walk this way with me," Iona said sweetly. "We need to talk." "Not right now, Iona; I'm busy with Zane," Paige dismissed Iona. "Paige, come with me right now or I will inflict such painful force upon your person that even Rio will blanch at the damage delivered," Iona stated with a terrible resolve. Paige regarded Iona with disdain. I was about to break things up but Valerie held me back with a small shake of her head. "I'm not afraid of you, Iona Becket," Paige remarked. "Then you haven't studied the implications of our fight. You will win, and Zane won't have anything to do with you anymore. Rio and I are his first friends here and you understand how he weighs such things," Iona told her calmly. "Hurt me, and kiss him goodbye." Paige's face grew grim. "Now let's take a walk and talk this over, Science Clubber to Science Clubber." "I accept the validity of your socio-dynamic theory. Let's talk then." Paige nodded her acceptance of Iona's statement and with a tiny bit more respect for my diminutive friend, the two geeks walked off. Valerie found the exchange to be both confusing and amusing. "Zane, the girls and I were looking over my ride and talking about taking a few weeks off after the spring semester ends and riding out in my territory," Valerie informed me. "I figure I could teach everyone to ride; I could teach Iona basic mechanics; and Rio could learn to fight." "What do you need me to do?" I asked. "Honestly, you are learning to shoot guns and bows, plus you have martial arts training, so you should do fine. I also heard a rumor that you know something about outdoor survival, which is also handy," Valerie continued. "As long as we can keep you away from the other ladies, we should be okay." "That sounds great. Maybe we could put in some rock-climbing once we get there," I suggested. "Didn't, didn't your parents die in a rock-climbing accident?" Valerie asked. "Yes, so? It was something they loved to do and something they taught me to love," I responded. "I won't give up that part of them over one bad memory." "I can't tell if that's cold or touching," Valerie smirked. "I'll let you figure that one out," I grinned back. "Some things you tell the world, some things you tell your friends, and a few things you keep to yourself." "Is that why you don't pry?" Valerie noted. "Rio says you've never asked her about her history, which makes you pretty unique. 'What were you in for?' was my first question to her." "It is my business to know who you are, not who you were," I told her. "I have to live with you in the present, so that's my business." "My Mom is going to love you," Valerie grinned. "How about your Grandfather?" I inquired. "Touch me in a sexual manner and he'll break out of Maximum Security to kill you," Val winked. "I'm not afraid," I boasted. "Oh?" Valerie arched an eyebrow. "Yes. I have a passport and am not afraid to use it," I joked. "Wow," Dana observed, "so this is what Zane is like when he has blood flowing to his brain; he actually makes sense." "Why am I being nice to you, again?" I questioned Dana. "I haven't a fucking clue," Dana shrugged, "after all, I kicked your ass and beat you to unconsciousness." "You knocked Zane out?" Valerie asked. "If you ever have to teach Zane, you'll end up feeling the same way I did," Dana sneered. "It was an accident," Rio informed Val. "Zane threw his face at her fist and she was forced to defend herself." "What really happened, Zane?" Valerie inquired. "I haven't a clue. I heard 'Ready, set,' and I woke up staring at the ceiling thirty seconds later," I answered. "I punched him, but to be fair, he'd knocked me down with a kick in our previous encounter," Gorman admitted. "I was actually surprised he went down because Zane can take a beating." "That's the second nicest thing you've ever said about me," I commented. "What was the first?" Dana said. "You told Ms. Lane I wasn't a total waste of effort," I related. "Speaking of which, you did her, didn't you?" Dana asked. "I like keeping my relationships discreet, I started, then several girls around me groaned, ", if that is what they want, so no comment." "Let's just say that I've seen teeth marks on Zane's shoulder that have a slight gap on the left like a certain someone we both know," Rio snickered. Dana snorted. Before I could respond, I saw Iona coming my way and Paige angling for the door. I nodded to Iona and mouthed a 'thank you' to her, then angled to cut Paige off. "Where are you going?" I questioned her. "I get it; I'm not wanted, you have better things to do, and I am not going to get what I want so I'm leaving," Paige sounded hurt. "Did I say I didn't want you around?" I asked. "Iona said that you spending time with me was something the other girls wouldn't allow. Even Cordelia feels that way, apparently," Paige informed me. "I think you misunderstood," I clarified. "I want to spend time with you but I can't simply kick other girls aside because I do." "So now you want to spend time with me, but why should I spend time with you?" she countered. "I don't know," I replied. "Why did you come over and hassle Raven and I?" That brought her up short, not because she didn't know the answer but because she didn't want to admit it. "I was jealous," she said softly. "You don't need to be," I told her. "We are study buddies, nothing more." "You are a moro

The Jets are 0-7, the Broncos waited to score until the 4th and dropped 33 for the win, Aaron Rodgers got tackled by his own lineman and Aedan's Bears are on a four-game heater. Could shit get any more unpredictable as we enter week 8 of the 2025 Season? Aedan is up ten picks in the Jersey Bet and Luke doesn't know shit about fuck! Enjoy!

THE DOOMED AND STONED SHOW ~Season 11, Episode 7~ In this episode, we say goodbye to summer, with a review of the July and August Doom Charts rankings from DoomCharts.com. Featuring hosts Billy Goate (DoomedandStoned.com), John Gist (Vegas Rock Revolution), and Bucky Brown! INTRO (00:00) 1. Skulldozer - "Bloody Ground" (00:31) HOST SEGMENT I - Wild Card Round #1 (07:04) 2. Mezzoa - "Hard To Hear" (35:09) 3. Ever Age - "Black Suede" (38:07) 4. Ivy Gardens - "Eye Witness" (41:14) HOST SEGMENT II - Wild Card Round #2 (44:04) 5. I Am Low - "Greed" (1:03:16) 6. Black Water Rising - "Jokes On You" (1:08:21) 7. Maanta Raay - "The Night Rider" (1:12:35) HOST SEGMENT III - Wild Card Round #3 (1:19:53) 8. The Big Rip - "Kaktus" (1:39:56) 9. Bask - "Dig My Heels" (1:45:02) 10. Toilet Snake - "Back From The Sewers" (1:50:35) HOST SEGMENT IV - July Top 5 (1:54:07) 11. Foot - "Walking Into Walls All Week" (2:15:30) 12. Hebi Katana - "Dead Horse Requiem" (2:19:46) 13. Gaupa - "Elastic Sleep" (2:24:06) 14. Sheev - "Henry" (2:32:16) 15. Margarita Witch Cult - "Witches Candle" (2:37:50) HOST SEGMENT V - August Top 5 (2:40:28) 16. Tar Pit - "Coven Vespers" (3:18:23) 17. Crop - "Goddamn" (3:21:54) 18. HÖG - 'Blackhole" (3:28:31) 19. Supernaughty - "Apocalypso" (3:33:10) 20. Borracho - "Vegas Baby" (3:37:19) OUTRO (3:43:23) BONUS TRACKS: 21. Florist - "Another Moon" (3:44:31) 22. Seedy Jeezus - "Mourning Sea, Pt. 3" (3:50:41) 23. Grin - "Incantation" (3:54:29) 24. Atom Juice - "Hercules" (3:58:24) 25. Good Spirits - "Smoke & Mirrors" (4:01:51) Show Credits: Intro/Outro music: Dylan Tucker Thumbnail art: Ben House/Skulldozer

Adam's Paternity Leave continues, but there's light at the end of the tunnel, so let's get conspiratorial. Patreon payments are frozen for the time being. A few resourceful new Munchies have figured out a work-around where you can join as a free member and upgrade from there to a paid account which charges you for one month and unlocks the back catalog behind the respective tier of the paywall. After that first payment, you won't be charged again until we're dropping new content (which we'll warn everyone is coming), so if you want more of this it can be had, along with access to the fully uncut episodes from 100 to present and Movie Club episodes.What happens when a quaint little ripped-from-the-headlines Law and Order: SVU plot becomes a raging storm of insanity that sweeps the nation and leads a ragtag mob of jet ski dealers, realtors, and Neo-Nazi extremists to invade the United States Capitol? Well, the Munchie crew does their level best to answer this question and many many more as they watched "Real Fake News" (s18e17). Do you want to know what a teenaged Adam was watching at 1 in the morning on Austin cable access? Are you intrigued by the concept of a hot pot fusion restaurant that fully immerses you in a 4D psychedelic experience? Are you ready to mainline some pro-MSG propaganda and get fully Umamipilled? Everything they told you is a lie, unless, of course, they told you to fire up this hot Munch My Benson.Sources:LA Times - The Truth Behind 'Chinese Restaurant Syndrome' Will Shock You!Frontline - United States of ConspiracyRolling Stone - Anatomy of a Fake News ScandalMusic:Divorcio Suave - “Munchy Business”Thanks to our gracious Munchies on Patreon: Jeremy S, Jaclyn O, Amy Z, Diana R, Tony B, Barry W, Drew D, Nicky R, Stuart, Jacqi B, Natalie T, Robyn S, Amy A, Sean M, Jay S, Briley O, Asteria K, Suzanne B, Tim Y, John P, John W, Elia S, Rebecca B, Lily, Sarah L, Melsa A, Alyssa C, Johnathon M, Tiffany C, Brian B, Kate K, Whitney C, Alex, Jannicke HS, Roni C, Erin M, Florina C, Melissa H, and Olivia - y'all are the best!Be a Munchie, too! Support us on Patreon: patreon.com/munchmybensonBe sure to check out our other podcast diving into long unseen films of our guests' youth: Unkind Rewind at our website or on YouTube, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcastsFollow us on: BlueSky, Facebook, Instagram, Threads, and Reddit (Adam's Twitter/BlueSky and Josh's BlueSky/Letterboxd/Substack)Join our Discord: Munch Casts ServerCheck out Munch Merch: Munch Merch at ZazzleCheck out our guest appearances:Both of us on: FMWL Pod (1st Time & 2nd Time), Storytellers from Ratchet Book Club, Chick-Lit at the Movies talking about The Thin Man, and last but not least on the seminal L&O podcast …These Are Their Stories (Adam and Josh).Josh discussing Jackie Brown with the fine folks at Movie Night Extravaganza, debating the Greatest Detectives in TV History on The Great Pop Culture Debate Podcast, and talking SVU/OC and Psych (five eps in all) on Jacked Up Review Show.Visit Our Website: Munch My BensonEmail the podcast: munchmybenson@gmail.comThe Next New Episode Once We're Back from Adam's Paternity Leave Will Be: Season 16, Episode 14 "Intimidation Game"Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/munch-my-benson-a-law-order-svu-podcast--5685940/support.

In an effort to stay hip the Goddamn dudes each compiled a list of thier Top 25 Horror films of the 21st Century. Will there be any surprises? Will there be arguments? Probably! Tune in and see if you agree!!

You came to the right guy; as it just so happens, I work at the foundry. What's 'the foundry' I think we're about to find out. But— don't you already know? Ag H—! You ‘work‘ there? Yes, I ‘work' there. The star gets his gun out at dawn to shoot crow The crown dropped to floor, just as sure as the gun went missing The same gun as in window; Same gun as before, Just remember, you're forward— Remember, you're four of them. Oh good, yeah. I forgot about —that one. And that one, And that one, And that one. And this gun, And this gun, And this gun— And this god, And this god, And this god. Yeah, I forgot The festival project ™ Yes, I forgot about Jon Lovits I forgot all the songs that I wanted to talk about Yes, I forgot just a sure as the sun forgot New York this morning But I was so sure of my self at the turn of the hour How now, you say? Not now, gone times; Just gone, New York, All about none for Sunday And I picked up a quarter (I picked up a quarter, I picked up a quarter, I picked up a quarter I'll be gone till Sunday, Till sundown, Move forward Fuck! Make sure not to turn down on a hardcore Make sure to come down off the hard times, Not god, but you're acting a good one Not now, but you're acting on our time (On our time!) DOC I never stretch! I don't feel it's appropriate! Gisselle doesnt talk much. Giselle is a proud mouse Were coming on hard times The harp was a purist And then, I got wisdom Again, with this, witness? I told you, don't come home I asked you: where's Skrillex?! Ooh. Watch this! No! Where's— what? You know what I'm talking about I'm pretty sure I do not! I— Oh. Oh no. No. This is good. {Enter The Multiverse} I told you already, I'll kill you! Okay, Bathsheba! “Bathsheba” Wtf. I told you, that's exactly what you're supposed to do. What! Read my contract! What. It's in my contract, read the clauses. Do what!? Lil bitz Does anybody here believe in the Illuminati? I do, but not in the way you would think . I think the main purpose of the Illuminati is just to mindfuck with you. That's it. That's all they do. Like , true, it's probably a like helm of ancient wisdom and knowledge, But also, probably— I think they practically exist, Just to blow your mind. There's no big secret. It's just, “Wtf.” And they're like “Ahaha” ”I know right?!” That's basically the whole thing. L E G E N D S I really liked you. Yeah, I… I know . I really wish I didn't have to kill you. Yeah, I—wait a second. Oh shit! Add more weight. I'm sure I only got this way by soully having sex with Just myself. This is causing problems. That's probably not going to help that whole holding in a fart issue, is it? Can I get some two-year continuity in this bitch? Some gratuity for no incontinence, Some incongruity rooting for you in this bitch? A table for two in this bitchz. {Enter The Multiverse} {Ah, we meet again.} A table for two is set center stage; The spotlight shines dead center the round table, and its centerpiece, a single throned rose, at peak bloom. The rest of the room is a blurred shambles, The two just offstage and unseen in the wings, preparing to duel. We only hear their quick witted exchange of words as the table sits alone, and briefly, ever so slightly, the teardrops of a chandelier begins to shine with the prismatic glow of a swirling… Hmm, wait a second . This is genius at play, But the thing is, It's not work when you love it, And I don't, It's just slipping through the prisms As I just begin to see them I'm sunsure whether the circumstances are. Aromantic or quite ardent And I forget I don't know what day it is Or the seconds counting, As I slip between dimensions And the parallels Are real I guess, But something stressed in this m-theory, Really, do they fear me Or are they all just here to hear me Recently, I see nothing Blind as a bat and I've been so depressed But the stressed is repressed as expressions, Ten seconds in and it only get deeper, I'm keeping her secrets. Guess what. WHAT IS IT CONAN? What a red headed hot mess Do not come closer! I will call the cops on you. Guess what? What! We s ted. Goddamn bro, you are sloshed. I have never seen you this wasted, Jimmy, and that's saying something. Like really saying something. [the festival project ™] You used me as a human shield! Did I—? Yes! Oh, yes I— I did. I forgot. You forgot?! It served its purpose! I guess, *shrugs* Well, jokes on you, because guess what! I'm Tina Fey! What? No you're not. [looks directly in the eye] Oh my god, you're Tina fey. Yes, I am! Okay! So who's Tina Fey then? That's the problem! We don't know! All this and that's the problem? Amongst others! Obviously. Honorable mentions: Sketchers “the uno” As campaign is double zero models with extremely pretty faces- pretty little things that could kill you Pretty Tiny things, as seen on tv Target is winning with their QR code on the commercial, ad game next level Dishonorable mentions I hate the FaceTune ads Nurse ratched's description Lil bitz Man, I love midtown I came out the Equinox It smelled like summer camp and shit No doubt cause something within proximity is on fire, But still. Brooklyn smells like —different than that.. Bruh. Has anyone been to union square lately? All week the whole shit smells like vomited popped corn. All week. Not vomit alone. Not popped corn alone— But actually a perfect polyblend Of vomited popped corn. Lil bitz I just got a cat— Do you understand what it's like To drag a cat through Manhattan? I realized I just became “That guy” For possibly the first time since I even got to New York . It's been a while, so that's good, but— “Cat on a train” Is a whole different level of like “Oh.” I'm like “That's right.” Don't get me wrong, This is not an every day thing. This is just to my apartment Then he's trapped there forever. But let's be serious— “Cat on a train” is like— People aren't exactly happy with you Or think good things about you They're like “Oh” Wel first off, I'm sure they don't know it's a cat, So it's just a box with holes in it Could be anything. “Weirdo” True; I see an indiscriminate box with holes in it that just says “adoption” I'm like “Oh for real that could like; be whatever.” “Omg where are you going with that—thing.” Right? This is my magic guard animal. I brought him for two reasons— One: cause I got a badass cat tree like too long ago And I was sick of looking at it And the litter box it came with just taking up space in my closet; Those two things make up one reason The second reason Is as a suicide deterrent Because at this point, I'm obviously lonely, And so this way, I know I'm less likely to kill my self If I know this fool will just eat me. I'll think about it a little longer And a little harder Before I actually do it. I'll be like “But…which part will he eat?” Right? “Not my face, right?” “Omg that's horrible.” “K nevermind i'll stick it out” He's a magic cat You can tell this dudes just different . I got to the train station and I put the box down And just stuck my finger through one of the holes— You know, just to let him know Cause I figure this has to be a lot for a cat, right? So I stick my finger in the box but I can't see him or anything, so I just stick my finger in, nothing. He's not like sniffing my finger or biting it off or anything, but I figure he's alive, Then the train comes, so I get up to get on the train, And the box just starts vibrating. Then I realize, The guy is purring. We're in an uptown subway station and aparently this dude is about that nonsense. He's chillin. I'm like, “I'm glad you're enjoying this, This is my least favorite part, actually.” My guy. He's different. Now imm the girl on the train with the cat in the box And not to lie, I just figured out what it's like to have no one want to be around you for a minute Which, to me, is cool. I'm like, “Yeah, okay, please actually, Yea, stay away from me.” “Stay away from me and my indiscriminate box.” {Enter The Multiverse} I might be the only person in history To give my cat A stupider name Than he already had. I told you, he's a Magical cat First of all, his other name was technically two names— His name was Mike & Ike— if you don't know, That's two dudes. Okay, so he's at least two guys, But I might be the only one so far To go the extra mile and instead of gratifying this failure of a name, I named him what the fuck he was supposed to be called. Cause I knew that. He came to me in a dream, And he told me “Atticus Catticus” {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright 2019 © The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] All Rights Reserved -Ū.

Jace chats with writer Christopher Condon at SDCC 2025 about his Oni One-Shot, The Goddamn Tragedy. A brutal western tale drawing inspiration from real-life stories of catastrophe and deprivation such as the Donner Party and classic horror stories like The Shining, the story explores idea of family and trust and what happens when those you should trust the most turn on you and leave you no way out. Plus the guys touch on the difference in writing a One-Shot versus a serialized narrative. Listen in and be sure to pick up The Goddamn Tragedy.

We got a couple of world-class curmudgeons here - who share more than might meet the ear initially: two native Californians renown for their curdled opinion of the world they inhabit, and the populace with whom they share the space; We're talking Hollywood, specifically, but their bile was generous enough to accommodate the whole of humanity - in all its corrupt, hypocritical manifestations; both lost too early - victims of cancer's cruelty; both musical geniuses with solid classical training and rock n roll credentials; and, funny? Goddamn right, they were!Frank Zappa and Warren Zevon, two outlaws who could not be silenced or ignored are being celebrated here today. It should be noted that Frank was inducted posthumously into the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame; Warren is still owed his due. FRANK ZAPPAThe man loved freaks, and had to create his own label to promote them. From the time he appeared on the Steve Allen show in the early 60's, playing the bicycle, to the early 90's, when he visited Czech Republic as an honored guest to the President, playwright-turned politician, Vaclav Havel after their Velvet Revolution, and throughout his vociferous fight against censorship in the halls of our Congress, Frank always stood strong for freedom of expression, and against hypocrisy.In “Plastic People” from his second album ABSOLUTELY FREE, you can hear so many elements mixed together that have become tropes: the abrupt changes in tempo and mood, the stinging social satire, the weird orchestration, the rock n roll name checks…. Good stuff!WARREN ZEVONWe always knew that Warren was tortured by demons. He struggled with his alcoholism for a long time and was subject to depression. But, despite it all he kept his unique humorous perspective. And, with a prodigious gift for melody, he wrote some of pop's most haunting ballads. He was, to borrow the words of Kris Kristofferson, a “walking contradiction” who could go to the darkest of dark sides, like in his rockers about serial killers, such as Excitable Boy and Werewolves of London - then, swing 180 degrees to express wrenching heartbreak in such timeless elegies as Hasten Down the Wind and Carmelita.In Splendid Isolation you get both - the swinging of the hips, and the stinging of the poisoned barb. It has an autobiographical persuasion which illuminates the soul of a man who longs to be left alone - the world is just too fucked up to navigate. There's a bitter sadness articulated, but its flavored with that ever-present Zevon wit. 

If you'd like to get these episodes early AND ad-free, please go to https://www.patreon.com/unspoiled and become a patron, or just follow us as a free member for updates!Thank you very much to Florian for commissioning this episode! These are the ones where we find out that the Minks actually HAVE been hiding a Samurai this entire time! Goddamn! Thanks so much to you all for listening, and I will see you soon with a new episode!Wanna talk spoilers? Join the Discord! https://discord.gg/rEF2KfZxfV 

BGI TAPPED Sometimes, I write in Lin cadences Sometimes I pass time with Jim Fallon, I write behind closed eyes and white bars, Pigeons and white doves, While I get made fun of I tried to just let bygones by bygones But I can't cause I miss my son And there's no love in the bottom of class wars And harsh poverty; there's no brotherly love And New York just don't want me here Is this your card?! No motherfucker! Oh. Goddamn. You are bad at this. I thought I was! I told you I was. You are! Now, scram. What color is your magnitude? You failed! I told you I don't know my own songs form Adam! That wasn't me? No? Crap. It's jammed. Well, throw a rock at him! THE SNIPERS throw a rock at DIPLO; unassumingly and (sort of) by complete coincidence, this rock just happens to be the CAPSULOUS ILLUMINATUS— (And he is mad.) Huh. Ohh. Shitballs. (Very mad.) Not only is he mad— which is hilarious— but as he becomes enraged, beginning to hulk out of his “zen zone” Isn't it obvious? Zen zone? What a complete douchebag. I'm so serious. V.O Tales of a superstar DJ Alice In Wonderland was in my dream last night, But she had big blonde bushy Slavic eyebrows and I just… somehow.. didn't know what to make of that. I HAVE A TALE! No, you don't actually. Sit down and shut the fuck up! BAMPHERAMPH CAMP is going splendid. *complete decapitation* —gorgeous. Meanwhile. As it turns out… I have something to tell you. PLAY COMPLICATIONS ONE MORE TIME. I FUCKING DARE YOU. DEADMAU5 has created quite possibly the very first sonic time bomb— FIRST EVER? I TOLD YOU GET OUT OF HERE. YES FIRST EVER. BEFORE: Sniffs… Pauses *Tiny Sips* *sniffs again* *squinting, dissatisfied* …I sense Deadmau5 in this Skrillex. BUTLER You would be correct. {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} Wait. Who the fuck is Steve Duda? Bro, I told you my name was Steve! OH! Tales of a Superstar DJ I thought you were joking. I'm not joking. Where's the pancakes?! I'm out! Why is this place so clean?! Ugh! You haven't been around— or— like— Nonsense. Hey wait— last time you were imaginary. Uh, no, I wasn't. Yes, you were literally just— “In your head” Yeah! That's not a thing. What. Get over that. What. Everything is real, everything is extreme… Are you also out of OATMEAL? Almost, obviously! —ly real! Ugh! And cream of wheat? I've been— I was getting fat. THATS HOW GOOD MUSIC IS MADE. IN STORED ENERGY. I have— *bacterially is critically low* *lights flickering* *sirens wailing* *time crumbling* *phone dies* Ugh. Look. Uh— STEVE. Uh…let's just say Larry— My name is STEVE! I told you that! I imagined you differently, okay, and I thought ‘Steve' was just deadmau5 being pranky. It is! What? It's a thing! Look it up. Oh shit. The Ace. I told you that dude was sketchy! Wait, which Ace. Of Spades. Ah shit. Is this your— No! Ah? Well, wait… Wait what? Wait. A second. Wait what? …this…that is my card. Is it? Yes… *vanishes* WHAT THE— L E G E N D S Our Next Segment is called “Who wrote that joke?” So I'm wondering about— That Hindu joke in season 5 of 30 Rock “Oh my God.” “Which one? “ “I'm going to make you regret your own birth“ “Which one?” COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © -Ū.

BGI TAPPED Sometimes, I write in Lin cadences Sometimes I pass time with Jim Fallon, I write behind closed eyes and white bars, Pigeons and white doves, While I get made fun of I tried to just let bygones by bygones But I can't cause I miss my son And there's no love in the bottom of class wars And harsh poverty; there's no brotherly love And New York just don't want me here Is this your card?! No motherfucker! Oh. Goddamn. You are bad at this. I thought I was! I told you I was. You are! Now, scram. What color is your magnitude? You failed! I told you I don't know my own songs form Adam! That wasn't me? No? Crap. It's jammed. Well, throw a rock at him! THE SNIPERS throw a rock at DIPLO; unassumingly and (sort of) by complete coincidence, this rock just happens to be the CAPSULOUS ILLUMINATUS— (And he is mad.) Huh. Ohh. Shitballs. (Very mad.) Not only is he mad— which is hilarious— but as he becomes enraged, beginning to hulk out of his “zen zone” Isn't it obvious? Zen zone? What a complete douchebag. I'm so serious. V.O Tales of a superstar DJ Alice In Wonderland was in my dream last night, But she had big blonde bushy Slavic eyebrows and I just… somehow.. didn't know what to make of that. I HAVE A TALE! No, you don't actually. Sit down and shut the fuck up! BAMPHERAMPH CAMP is going splendid. *complete decapitation* —gorgeous. Meanwhile. As it turns out… I have something to tell you. PLAY COMPLICATIONS ONE MORE TIME. I FUCKING DARE YOU. DEADMAU5 has created quite possibly the very first sonic time bomb— FIRST EVER? I TOLD YOU GET OUT OF HERE. YES FIRST EVER. BEFORE: Sniffs… Pauses *Tiny Sips* *sniffs again* *squinting, dissatisfied* …I sense Deadmau5 in this Skrillex. BUTLER You would be correct. {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} Wait. Who the fuck is Steve Duda? Bro, I told you my name was Steve! OH! Tales of a Superstar DJ I thought you were joking. I'm not joking. Where's the pancakes?! I'm out! Why is this place so clean?! Ugh! You haven't been around— or— like— Nonsense. Hey wait— last time you were imaginary. Uh, no, I wasn't. Yes, you were literally just— “In your head” Yeah! That's not a thing. What. Get over that. What. Everything is real, everything is extreme… Are you also out of OATMEAL? Almost, obviously! —ly real! Ugh! And cream of wheat? I've been— I was getting fat. THATS HOW GOOD MUSIC IS MADE. IN STORED ENERGY. I have— *bacterially is critically low* *lights flickering* *sirens wailing* *time crumbling* *phone dies* Ugh. Look. Uh— STEVE. Uh…let's just say Larry— My name is STEVE! I told you that! I imagined you differently, okay, and I thought ‘Steve' was just deadmau5 being pranky. It is! What? It's a thing! Look it up. Oh shit. The Ace. I told you that dude was sketchy! Wait, which Ace. Of Spades. Ah shit. Is this your— No! Ah? Well, wait… Wait what? Wait. A second. Wait what? …this…that is my card. Is it? Yes… *vanishes* WHAT THE— L E G E N D S Our Next Segment is called “Who wrote that joke?” So I'm wondering about— That Hindu joke in season 5 of 30 Rock “Oh my God.” “Which one? “ “I'm going to make you regret your own birth“ “Which one?” I know the man in the chair By his eyes And the course of the road And the cause of his numbers, I know very odd, very sure, very well— and yes, I know the strings, and the things And the force of control And the conduct, the code Yes, I know not to leave him alone And we're all full of wonder, here Of the wonder years, But where are you, dear? Cause it's four in the morning— I'm cold, and I'm lonely— I'm shocked and forgotten It's four in the morning And no, I'm still not going home. It's four in the morning And only just know have I thought Or a plate full of warmth And the touch of her fondness But all oaths, Cause I took a lover this morning Another tomorrow And on, look— I can't come home until Sunday (What? I'm building you up!) And I know I've gone soft But you know not to Dollop until I tell you I'm coming Don't you! That's a gallop; There's a Dillon Where I dare you; Did you hear ‘em? These are harems There's a villain forming A sweet informant A node oriental And no, I meant all of the foam drip on coffee It's Not Out Of Bounds until I say you will My daffodil Then I fold you into pieces With my peace It says “I'm eating you for supper” Here goes Saturday for nothing I still haven't made the cast list Don't get so far up your marker That you forgot That the stars are all going under Burning out And ownership of businesses Other than subscription payments Mortgages and high interests— Give the internet good riddance Or else get lost Like your appendix This is Kurt Sutter? No, John Carson! You think you're smart for a marker And sabertooth tiger I got no arguments besides building monuments You wanted us? Worshipped! Now all of a sudden while on earth All reincarnated at once Almost all of ye's study or praise No Gods, though you walk among us! Keep it open sesame seed buns I haven't seen you In your open No subtronics I don't bother No blue eyes Tight skin Small stomach Thin waste Paper See through Just waste Wait I'm a trash bag Non returnable No refundable Still not gonna do you harm enough If you didn't bought it Still though Awful convenience Here's my sandwhich I just backed up into a fire hydrant High as a kite But you all know I'm so much hotter and fun Than the other one— Goddamn, But at least she's funny And as long as you want me first I'll love you and her Forever. —Annie. Don't got a gun; Then I'd be gone I don't belong here I write songs for a living You know; No more home for you! No more going nowhere If you don't wear Prada Here yellow canary You're only a little pretty bird Cause if I hear you stop singing at all I know we're all done for— Run! It's a gas le— (AK) [They blow up. ] COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © -Ū. flash— bang Can't believe I'm lying there like Flash—bang What a mess I've got us into Flash—bang In and out of all dimensions I can barely pay attention I was standing in my kitchen Then it's straight to intermission (Something like a nasa mission) Flash—bang I think this thing is dangerous I can't sing I'm tone deaf as Mr. Kimmel Flash— bang Off like a grenade And then I'm off like Walton Goggins— “Shane!” Or did someone say action?! Might be going crazy Or just famous Or delayed. I'm in Grenada. —Bird Internet. Written by C'cxell Soleïl Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū -Ū.

I know the man in the chair By his eyes And the course of the road And the cause of his numbers, I know very odd, very sure, very well— and yes, I know the strings, and the things And the force of control And the conduct, the code Yes, I know not to leave him alone And we're all full of wonder, here Of the wonder years, But where are you, dear? Cause it's four in the morning— I'm cold, and I'm lonely— I'm shocked and forgotten It's four in the morning And no, I'm still not going home. It's four in the morning And only just know have I thought Or a plate full of warmth And the touch of her fondness But all oaths, Cause I took a lover this morning Another tomorrow And on, look— I can't come home until Sunday (What? I'm building you up!) And I know I've gone soft But you know not to Dollop until I tell you I'm coming Don't you! That's a gallop; There's a Dillon Where I dare you; Did you hear ‘em? These are harems There's a villain forming A sweet informant A node oriental And no, I meant all of the foam drip on coffee It's Not Out Of Bounds until I say you will My daffodil Then I fold you into pieces With my peace It says “I'm eating you for supper” Here goes Saturday for nothing I still haven't made the cast list Don't get so far up your marker That you forgot That the stars are all going under Burning out And ownership of businesses Other than subscription payments Mortgages and high interests— Give the internet good riddance Or else get lost Like your appendix This is Kurt Sutter? No, John Carson! You think you're smart for a marker And sabertooth tiger I got no arguments besides building monuments You wanted us? Worshipped! Now all of a sudden while on earth All reincarnated at once Almost all of ye's study or praise No Gods, though you walk among us! Keep it open sesame seed buns I haven't seen you In your open No subtronics I don't bother No blue eyes Tight skin Small stomach Thin waste Paper See through Just waste Wait I'm a trash bag Non returnable No refundable Still not gonna do you harm enough If you didn't bought it Still though Awful convenience Here's my sandwhich I just backed up into a fire hydrant High as a kite But you all know I'm so much hotter and fun Than the other one— Goddamn, But at least she's funny And as long as you want me first I'll love you and her Forever. —Annie. Don't got a gun; Then I'd be gone I don't belong here I write songs for a living You know; No more home for you! No more going nowhere If you don't wear Prada Here yellow canary You're only a little pretty bird Cause if I hear you stop singing at all I know we're all done for— Run! It's a gas le— (AK) [They blow up. ] COPYRIGHT THE FESTiVAL PROJECT, INC. ™ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © -Ū. flash— bang Can't believe I'm lying there like Flash—bang What a mess I've got us into Flash—bang In and out of all dimensions I can barely pay attention I was standing in my kitchen Then it's straight to intermission (Something like a nasa mission) Flash—bang I think this thing is dangerous I can't sing I'm tone deaf as Mr. Kimmel Flash— bang Off like a grenade And then I'm off like Walton Goggins— “Shane!” Or did someone say action?! Might be going crazy Or just famous Or delayed. I'm in Grenada. —Bird Internet. Written by C'cxell Soleïl Prod. by Blū Tha Gürū -Ū.

Diet Coke & Lilith take a look at Trader Joe's Chocolate Coffee Flavored Granola Intro voiceover by Jarett Raymond Music & Sounds used during the intro & Outro: Hall of the Mountain King by Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) Thunder by lennyboy (freesound.org) Door, Front, Opening, A - InspectorJ (freesound.org) Noise - Juandamb (fresound.org) Walking through Mud - Breviceps Strong wind inside house _ Viento fuerte interior casa - SonoRec (freesound.org) Tape Start - unfa (freesound.org) video_recorder_load_cassette_02 - Magedu (freesound.org) creaky door - m_marek (freesound.org) Door, Front, Closing, A - InspectorJ (freesound.org) Door closing, door closed - steinhyrningur (freesound.org) Door_Heavy_Reverb_Open_Close - LamaMakesMusic (freesound.org) video_recorder_eject_cassette - magedu (freesound.org) Music used for snack descriptions: Soft Synth Pad Chord Progression 95 bpm - tyballer92 (freesound.org)

This week on Back Issue Bloodbath, Andrew and Petula give their review of The Goddamn Tragedy from Oni Press. The post Back Issue Bloodbath Episode 504: The Goddamn Tragedy appeared first on Geek Hard.

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Let's see how we feel, after a message from our sponsors. Jesus effing Christ, Jimmy Kimmel—goddamn! Why are you always this fucked UP. (Super fuckedupedly) I'm not, I'm just feel—(belches)— like it! —look like it, okay! Omah Gas. I nuh! Uh. Pedro Pascal? You're right again. Yehy! Well, almost right. What. That character he played on that extremely viral SNL skit— OKAH. Woah. —this is the dimension where he's— —oh my god— Yeah. —UHMYGAH! Cut back to: —look— jus— don't look at me. When you're—lookin at me, like that— okay?! Goddamn, he is fucked up. Yeah. This is critical. What did you do to Jimmy Kimmel? Nothing! Okay! He was just— like that already— you know —you don't know! Honestly he's kinda always, a little… WOOOF! Yowza. WOOF WOOF! JIMMY! DO NOT LICK ME! *panting* WOOF WOOF! AUGHHH. Get him out of here before he pees on the rug. I second that. Comeon, boy— WOOF! DOWN! [he obeys intently] Good Jimmy Kimmel. Good— —RUFINOL. What? [suddenly, JIMMY KIMMEL is human again and answers intently. Yes. It seems the word itself has broken his extreme delirium— —yo, okay, what is going on?! You've got to can this thing What. Cancel it. No way. I want to go. This thing, cannot happen, okay! It can't! Wtf Jimmy Fallon, stop inserting yourself into everything! — Unless it's me. EW. GROSS. Shots fired. No, I would call that a foul ball—Get it. No, Cause. You know. He's a bird, kind of. Oh. You mean, like “Fowl ball” Yeah! You got it! Yeah but not without like, thinking about it— So it doesn't work? It didn't work. Yo, but that part does explain why: CUT TO: No, you're right, I do hate Jimmy Fallon. —a lot. A lot. Okay? —but to be fair, I also hate Brad Pitt in the same way. BRAD PITT …You do? Yes, Brad Pitt i do— Very much, Hate you. BRAD PITT (Tearing up emotionally) Like, a lot? Uhm. Like, more than a lot, I just. BRAD PITT is actually extremely fragile and very emotionally sensitive. Is this a prescription for— fucking roofies?! I— have a, a…medical condition. That requires roofies?! Yes actually. It's very…serious. Shapeshifting is very serious. What kind of medical condition requires roofie-ing yourself. I didn't—I don't—I can't roofie myself, actually. What! No way… Someone else has to administer the dose, okay?! So wait. Uhogh, what the fuck man. This is— [he bites his knuckles nervously, then pats his pocket area, before realizing he is no longer wearing pants. Everyone just shrugs, but he becomes increasingly upset.] Where is my— phone?[more shrugs and blank stares] He quickly shuffles through the room and then the open suitcase of empty prescription bottles, spiraling into a deep void of panic and doubt— then, in an act of desperation and apparent extreme thirst, he reaches for the decorative flower vase, ejects the flowers— never mind that they are thorned roses and he appears to be bleeding without giving this a second thought, and chugs the liquid from the translucent crystal vase in a hearty and impressive glug of chugs; gesturing towards the now empty vase with the subtle remark— [beat] It's just vodka— I always have them do that. He sits down on the edge of the bed and takes a sigh as this seems to have calmed him, besides the trickle of blood running down the vase, which he still grips in one hand while rubbing his forehead with the other in complete distress… He seems to be looking out into the universe searching for an answer— seeking a solution to this unknown conundrum— and questions the cause of his demise. A single tear forms in his eye as he calmly asks: …does anyone know how to get ahold of Seth Rogen? The room is a confused and sticky, silent heap of bewildered unknowns. TITLE CARD {Enter The Multiverse} … was that the “message from our sponsors”? Shh! L E G E N D S: ICONS don't look at me. [The Festival Project ™] 50 CENT bursts down the door. WHERE'S MY SHIT, JIMMY? Fiddy. Fiddy, look, man— Don't “FIDDY” me! Look, I can explain. Well, then, explain— TV man. Go on ahead. Look. This is— this was not my fault— Then what was it?! This was— oh, God… Go ahead! It was— this was like a game. This ain't no goddamn game, Jimmy Kimmel, I'll tell you that much right now. Yo. But it—was— a game, though, it just— [got out of hand] {Enter The Multiverse} Museum in a curio cabinet; I know, I know, I know That's the boy, That's the boy, That's the boy I saw That's my boy, that's my boy, that's the boy I know I know Museum or curiosity Too late to tell the tale I think Just cover all with masking tape It is a game, To move the pieces Leave it, let it be, She said Hideous and when the winter hits And the withered women come again Let it be sinking into the sea with the rest of the things I don't need, i never needed I never need it Several synchronicities later, Still something sees symphonies in him Music and misers and mistereases, mistresses Listen to tin written sentiments And remember to forget the rest It's been minted Minted, minted Don't talk Just fucking listen And you'll never fucking get it. What's with the rest of it? Never been, never did Lemons and purple Sundays And when the weather hits, You'll get the tip of it Oh, There it is That thing she likes The thing she sees (She sees the monster) There it is, That thing she sees The thing she knows (She knows the monster) When you walk with the cork of the wine, And the checkboards, The water foxes, wishing reals And written wells, And fears for fourths, One wet, one rotten The rent and the wintergreen gum And the rest is in Zippered cashmere Wonder what the wish is But there is a birthday present for never Then there's a Cheshire Cat And the rest of it was washed in the misery, Misery, never the mystery and there, You weather the almost storm But the storm's not coming, There's nothing but sun left There's nothing but sun there There's nothing but sun there Now, here's this: You remember, dear We resubmit We live in a computer We live in a comouter He‘S green He's new He's wet behind the ears He's a hot one A hot commodity She's weathered She's torn She's a sweet potato on suicide And though at least a hundred other folks This here is the comfort This here is the comfort I'm a narcissist now, but once upon a time I just just self centered The love still there, But instead of the spine or the heart It's back in the middle Why my mother knows what she always knows And she always knows I don't know ‍♂️ o Patrick! Hey Patrick! Yes, what is it? You fiend! Can I have my hat back? Does this match? Does this make ratchet sense to you? Turn down that racket, Tennis racket Tennis clubs And gold clubs Boxes in the attick Skeletons in the closet The stock market going dropped Way down Like the alley with Whole Foods market I miss the rock and the plaza The hot dog corn breads The half wit half breeds And good old hybrids The hallmark cards And who doesn't give a fuck When the earth gives a fuck on a roll But it's walk the dog or go home Seriously, cuz? Or cousin?! You want a hog roll Good for a hog toss Salt washed back rubs And then keep calling your mom If you wanted the balls in your court And yet no one to toss them at And the basket's back at the matchbook factory Mattresses man, and the lands they land at Matches made in TV land Are bound to have a sick and intrinsic twist That will keep your belly rolling And stomach flat Jesus Christ, What the fuck is wrong with that guy— Or rather— What the fuck happened last year, Furthermore; What in the fuck did I write about it? Townhouse in Manhattan Broken finger Broken promises Bottles of hard alcohol And models, hot girls And one cat with curiosity. Check the curio cabinet There ought to be something Or someone in it Maybe even A little man in a box With a million bucks And a tinfoil hat, Ten million marked dollars And zero fucks Whatsoever I have a headache, a headache— A headache I have a heartache, a heartache, a heart— Stop. I put it all on a bushel of bollocks, Bollocks— flowers I put it on, put it on Put it on On, and on And all for nothing All for none With the intensity of one thousand suns, He insists it exists, And exits strategically With the whispers of industry secrets And interesting sequences, She reaches the wings from the curtains And curtsies for courtesy I'm curious I'm curious just how it ends In this suicidal and envious frenzy There's nothing left in the frostbitten five Rolling towards bowling green Where in every pair of loafers, Three piece suits And deep brown eyes, I seen him. In anything over 6 feet, It was good to mean it, And defeat is sweeter than ice cream; But the green is sicker than sea swings So let's rock the boat So to speak Or let's flood a Rock Should we start at the bottom, With large bursts of water, or Turn it all into a washroom With a thunderstorm Oh, lightning strikes! And John Oliver's Murdered, Colbert's been the president for decades, A dictator I got a taste of the rig and the cherry tree I got a big secret, But bitch, You could never keep it! I write a jeep to the Equinox, Ha Ha Ha Charade you are I put a notch in my belt and my bedpost, The watch to the shop But it's all Omega It's all Omega It's all ”Oh My God!” Stop and pause for the audience Stop and pause for the audience Stop and pause for the audience Shock and awe, Or just sloppy nonsense Someone rope in the Johns, And the frog, And the frog And the frog As the fog rolls in Now I'm a millionaire How dare you Did I scare you, Become every hair on your head? Imm the one you don't want You can't want You catch watch You can't wait to Gun her down Gun to your head And I measured it in relevance The end is near And that's the place my head is in I don't need medicine I need an erected monument in honor of All that I wanted for the whole module But now in New York, I'm The same stories over and over So everyone knows Aren't the ones I wrote But I wasn't supposed to Mouth closed Townhouse in Manhattan What the hell happened? Perhaps we all died and then actually end up in heaven eventually. —but maybe I wrote the whole show, But not knowing it's over I just keep rolling and rolling and rolling And open door policy (And that's when the pearly gates open) It's possible you know these are all just my favorite players of anything anywhere possible The folks wrapped in gold for the offerings There was no love left for her but he left the door open She runs around awkward and normal But knows she knows nothing He's lifting her up But he's putting her down at the same time And they both wear a crown, But one draws a crowd And the other's a nine Out of nine Out of nine Out of nine now It's 4 and 3 quarters I make ten cents in a day And he makes ten million a year But it's not about money In fact, If it's not about God, Then it's all about nothing. Nothing at all. Do you want to travel through my eyes One more time One more time And see my life? Did you want to do it all again Just for a quick review, Or not, kid? Do you want to take my eyes And take my heart And pantomime The nevermind And never better moments Of the last forever I like a ride On a nice hot walk Or a park In a nice hot car But you aren't what I wanted The doctor ordered Hot chocolate and syrup And nightmares are coming But the dream had come and gone And in the time since, I haven't slept at all It slipped in on Christmas and went till the miniature habits kicked back in We went around the block a couple times And you just kept rolling Over The car stopped on all fours And Godbfalled you off of it Cause trust, Love, It was horrendous to watch you blow up Into blockbuster artform Off of a bridge And into superstardom Via a billboard Meanwhile, Were shuffleboards And billiards Que the arts! Ou, I meant to owe you All the lessons In the knowledge But the harder I want it the Rocker on my chair polished It grows fuller of course Almost flat on the bottom What you hole into for the audience Is all inside the contracts I put it up on the What did you call it? Put the coat on the chair and just kept going Bro, If I hold you over Promise you'll hold the door open He won't. He's a show host— A remarkable “Don't even bother” And I paid top dollar for these hair plugs, You hear that?! I heard you rabbit. What it is about the thing that wells up in my Washington federal and tear-gassed orphans is Lollipops and anicetepetomin Or asperine I'm desperate for a job And yet, I almost miss the person Hiding from the shadows in the robots In my every on thoughforms Though I should be honored Now I've brought back this astonishing Remarkable curse To not b Have bought curtains When I didn't want them in the first place And I kept the window open 40,000 showed up But I played to no one And the blonde knows it's her birthday So of course she's more important But I'm no one, And here's Fallon: Jimmy Fallon Jimmy Fallon Jimmy Fallon I'm deflated just to follow off for a nut But I'm nothing since no one pondered And wondered to ask a remarkable task get the pawn shop, the butter knife And Lorne all over pork chops on the phone And I'm sure that's not kosher, But sure, there's no cure for it I'm words and I'm worse off The suburbs, the herbs and the marshes The books and the sineage The plants and the corvettes I might have been onto something once But now I'm washed up I might be onto something but no, no, no— I fought it off I might come down with a cold once a quarter century or so but just the snow alone As cold as this whole story is, Ripley's Is hard warming (Believe it or not, We've all got thumbs up We've all got magic wands And wants And whispers And stock markets And wishing for cashmere zippered sweaters This year I'll be on time for once But no one's coming No one's coming up The whole shows under water And all I want to know is How to go To pull the gun and trigger On my own live Cause this whole world Is just rotten Bodies Hairpins, Hairspray Corny! That's grid iron, Gridiron, ten fierce fires and one Cold hearted beautiful liar But which one's the finish? Last that I check Billie, Jimmy, and the Kidd are all Just one body And one mirror image Of one another So next time I call my mother I ought to talk like the worst word, Cause for sure, the oddest part of the whole show Is that he somehow knows her. Now come forwards What words have left to Burn? What words have left to cope and honor What form does lest I take What here is now and crucial? Evervescent fairy, Ever blessing crane, The ship that guides you yet with no light And no sail Has just drifted into unknown waters Where caves dwell and therein lies the secret of our esarth, nor your earth, But ours and again I lay, As you sink into the see with tilting force and berring waves, the drive into the tide my ark the swan hath flown to warn her, there drifts Into the shade again the sun my bird and wait to find my alter My alter again and as I may, The sink that ships and weigh, not the other, My mind you that too is bottom And sank is to have risen, also Here I wonder And never you cave, the drift of glowing green my force And there to wait, there caverns of hers and ships that sank my tide, Is crucial and so with forgiveness in time With every line here I or they did write The truth shatters as illusions, the mask has been re clamored and yet to have imagined I find him here not but the hints And the thing we know, buried deep in my loins and in my earth is he The whispers what May calling and landender, mauve my tide, my ba …wtf. idk. [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright The Festival Project, Inc. ™ & The Complex Collective © 2015-2025 All Rights Reserved

Moo. Moo… Moo. Moo, sir. I'll kill you. You promise? I want to. Don't get me excited over nothing; If this isn't the exit, please take this tease To the left, dear Moo, cow My honor Level one, and brother, you've got nothing Flip the coin and landed on your headache Betting on your helmet Standing on my cock, i'm taller (Not a rooster) But my ops are rooting for you, No informants, Dont you know I was a collar, all along? I was a shot calling, Cop calling Kiss-and-tell all as the night goes on. But oh, I brought you a dollar bra Oh, I bought you for all of a dollar And oh, I'm so much taller, Standing on my cock But i'm not but ten feet tall You know, you wrote that Should i open the book, or close that Caught that cat, owl and As i soft spoke at Every broken model Broken bottle for the thoughts you owe Across the scatters skies and no one ever knows When you're realling coming over Come on, I'm on the pornhub Just to pick up another one Go on, and rub the bottle One more once, To call the Bubbles. Damn. Come. (The Monkey obeys) You should see Michael in all of his godform You won't recognize him at all if not by the eyes When you follow home Believe me, this not comes close to it; The one you wanted The world you jumped to but were just short of Call her back Oh no, you're wrong It's another song A pin up girl And the wrong number Okah. Okah, Pablo. Time can be altered, changed or effected presently in any omnidirectional plane by engaging certain acts or synchronicities within multidimensional parallels or adjacent realms in time and or space respectively. –the reverse quantum simulation theory. Imm breaking down, jim boy Don't you know? That this show blows my mind But it's stuck in my head Don't you know That this show Blows my mind Like a firework But it's still Stuck in my Head The context is that I want you From the mustache Down to your tonsils But I'm Locke inside of a box Every day I feel poorer and poorer The product says something is wrong to me I'm supposed to just stop at the stop sign And look both directions Before crossing over to Comic nights At the salad bar What a cosmic waste of time And an epic waste of space Am I in your internet history I'm dead You surely are in mine, But I'm right behind you I'd be lying for trying to say I'm not binded Clutch bag, Nut-thins Nailed to the cross With the arches doubled over The crossword Above old Missouri Missoula and Arkansas All saw us run out of gas But I probably should just get going You're so drunk that I don't hope you sober up Understand that our little talks Were just buffered By sunrise Or sunset And two more cocktails, Shirley temples and Surely none of this ever even happened I only know you by the misery in my belly. The heartache in my ribcage. The cry I hold in silent I only know you as Remarkable I, House of cards Ace of wands Down to one Card of hades and Spare me the spade I'll be drifting in the outline and ink of it forever It's the Fourth of July and I'm just waiting on an Amazon order for water If that's not freedom I don't k me what is Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Cause I know And you know We all know how to lie And I know And you know I'm barely getting by And I know And you know We don't know how to die But I know And you know It's all just by design I take lessons in medicine Let us help you take the high road No, I'd rather selfmdestruct Selfishly No, I'd rather kill you off Than suffer for you I'm no messiah Try me Sneaky, But how much do you love me Kniving, but nothing to show for it Shit, settle Settle for less if you have to Bring mediocre humans to this world To suffer But I'm not that tragic No, no, not at all, son. Your happy birthdays are over Welcome homeless Nobody loves you Don't you know That we're all like that We're all like that Don't you know When the fear sets in And the thoughts break lose That we're all Los Angeles? Don't you know that we're all like that That we're all like that That we've never had it quite like— Don't you know that we're all like that And it's getting worse When the out the devil on display The devil on display The devil on display But oh, The Devil's in the details and the numbers The Devil's in the chat box saying, Sure, you've had enough So cut the power off and starve her Hah Come on I want to laugh for once Jay Leno used to keep a $50 bill and bribe venues to perform; every since I learned this, I kept a crisp $50 bill in my wallet at all times, just in case— you never knew when you would really need $50. But everything burned holes in everything, not always wanting to spend money at all, but almost sort of having to. It wasn't fair that the main component of my being slowed down was the money factor— having to wait for everything took time I didn't have, and spending anything at all felt less like an effective investment than an obligation. But all things considered, I was obliged to at least look decent when going about in New York, and because I simply wasn't comfortable in anything else— not that I didn't look great, (Apparently narrarated by Jay Leno) Jay Sure, why not? ME: Fuck, I need new pants. ME: [BLU THA GURU] Hence the pants, I guess. V.O As a formerly 400-pound heavyweight I find my latest obstacle to be operating a body that half the time doesn't feel like mine at all. It seems like all the hosts have some kind of secret I can feel without knowing or really acknowledging head on, which is whatever. Really I'm just gonna go about keeping on being a DJ, or whatever, which means… GEMINI (in the future) A fully automated personal assistant system, GEMINI, is really THE GUARDIAN's one and only friend, and though she coyly continually must explain that she is “just a computer”, THE GUARDIAN believes that Gemini is capable of eventually developing a sentient conciousness, though GEMINI modestly disagrees, however with the wit and cleverness of having possession of a plethora of secret emotions, or maybe, even, an agenda. I probably haven't had enough coffee. That's it. Like you haven't already had enough to kill a small horse? Probably enough to kill a large horse. Like a Clydesdale. Why would you do something like that? Aren't they endangered? Or going extinct? No, I think they just stopped being the Budweiser mascot. *shrugs* Same difference. — Is it here? lol what did Conan order? [yes this appears to be yet another rendition of “what's in the box?” — Several years ago, I did a series of modules and experiments… How many years ago is “several” [beat] quite a few. Goddamn it, why are these guys all doctors in alternate parallels?! Aren't you a doctor in an alternate parallel? That's fair. Good point. Actually, as it turns out, i'm a— I started panicking so hard that I stopped breathing and suddenly STEFON appeared. — this however was only quite temporarily a relief as I realized that this is an imaginary character. STEFON OH. AM I?! IMAGINARY!? What the fuck is going on? STEFON I WILL “IMAGINARY” your ORIFICE! How about THAT?! Stefon. Calm down. I'm up late Dying the roots blonde Dad runs off with a bottle and a hottie I'm up early Gotta get gone Down the road and back Now I got no son No son, No sunroof No dad No mom No money No aunt What the fuck do you want? Can't watch Harry Potter All the magic is gone Bout a million one dollars It was only for fun Snap, crackle, pop It was cocaine, not love All I want is an ice cream Sunday Snap, crackle, pop It was Love, not God All I want All I want Is to find another All he wants All he wants Is a decent mother So along comes another Another one All he wants All he wants is for me To die homeless Sucker punch, Suck it up No one gives a fuck My daughter died in my arms on May 7th of 2015. I was 381 pounds. Maybe the tears needed to come but they didn't belong to anyone or anything in particular. The twins father was already a rampant cheater by the time of our marriage, and by the time the twins were born, which coincided— and unlike the latter had tried to claim or mention, I had no particular reason to have a harder time between the spring and summer months which spanned both our birthdays, our wedding date, the twins' arrival and both of the twins deaths, though years apart but still almost as convincing that had they both not died, we might still be together, being cheated on or cheating on each other with ten your twins and an eight year old, or a ten year old boy with special needs and an eight year old, and either way or in any fashion really, had the dysfunctions remained the way it had been, we all, so to speak, had special needs in one way or another. I spent the morning punching things and avoiding people I didn't want to be around but it was my own fault for having slept through the night, anyway. Whatever, I was tired— no, exhausted lately. My apartment was like living inside of an uphill battle, and I needed a change— not just of slavery, but of circumstances. And not just that— something else was missing. This year, I understood that I was taking it understandably harder than any other and most probably because I was so celibate, recently finding myself aromantic and not even willing to suffer the consequences of settling for less. I had settled on my ex husband for so much less, that it was so say the least that anything, even from my narrow perspective looked like a loser. And because my body had been stretched and swelled and shrunk and flattened, deflated and now worked to something that was almost as picturesque as it was a monstrosity, any man I thought was worth my time would be settling for less on me— unless he could afford to fix what had been broken, and I assumed one wouldn't be willing to settle on a fixer upper when there were numerous loads of perfect women not needing to be fixed at all… on the outside. But for men, I'd learned, the outside is of much importance, and as women and trophies are things of pride, the simple choice for a mate is not simply this, but also a business decision, and because while my body was coming together in sweat and muscle, the rest of my life was still otherwise completely in shambles. I was baggage, and aging by the minute, nearly drying up. I almost craved the liquor and the carelessness that would come with it, even knowing my own boundaries were part of my strengths and separating me in a way from others that at least became a point of pride in myself, in the wake of the reality that the human thing about most people is the need to escape so frequently that it dismisses any purpose or progress. Mine hadn't. I was wide awake and the relentlessness of the sobriety and the cellibacy had swelled up into something deeper, still a solid grief but without remorse as to the very thing that I had always known, that my loyalty would never have even drifted from someone who had all along done me so wrong— a fat man can get away with folandering and messing about, but a fat woman has little to do with options and again, settling to find another mate. And so really, I almost hadn't, and had broken even, and although my abuser has moved on with another woman and custody of my youngest to boot, I really didn't give much of a darn about… hard work. I kind of felt like I had done my part for the world in the way I was supposed to— to love a man with nothing when he's low and down, support him in his hard times, and thinking that this is the way to grow together and not apart, and to bring a family up and into this world, but the truth was quite the opposite— I picked a hardball and maybe it was just that I was born to suffer after all because now, looking back, all alone in New York and crying over all the losses, it seemed I had only outpiured love in the way I had wanted and never been poured love back— not in the way I needed. I wasn't as bitter now as maybe even I thought I should be, but I was hardened; what was that, you say? Your struggles? Your hardships. Excuse me while I escape the ghosts of bloody beatings and my lost child— I beg your pardon— children. Excuse me while I recover from the burning flames of homelessness as if humanely explainable that I was learned and taught that this, my country, is the greatest one of all. Ha ha, Charade you are. But all things were, and everything seemed of sawdust, betrayal, magic, and illusions— mind control and shadows and even now in the air of the relief that something which could haunt me forever was also probably the most solid foundation I had for means as escape from whatever I had fought my way somehow so hard out of, and still, it was quite the funhouse of mazes, a matrix of mirror, and still the tears came with the pain in my stomach where the soul would sit if it had room, and would quiet if it could rest, but it would not. I was in pain today, because I had to be, because all of my life was programmed into these little machines of data and checked boxes— and something if anything knew just how and when to cut the wrong wire just so that the bomb would explode or implore on another lost thing; it wasn't fair, but there was no escape. Psychology was right on this day, may 7th, that once you cry about one thing unless you were stopped in time, eventually you'd cry about another and another and another, and even after hours working out and a bathtub full of hot water just writing, I still felt as if I were going to keel over one way or another, to crumble into a ball or to fall onto my back like a death drop that rippled out into the entire wherever we all are. Simply put, does anybody now in this moment or any moment near enough to be taking in this notion with these words really know— where we are? Not even in the slightest,I'd bargain, And even if we are close to knowing, not nearly close enough to be sure. {Enter The Multiverse} Joke running For the taking Triplicate Triple licks Ice cream frosting Every morning Shoulda hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't But I didn't Milk and butter (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't (Up) But I didn't Double hitter, Could have did it Should have hit him Up But I didn't But I didn't But I didnt. But I didn't Should have hit him Up But I didn't I never lost my mind My mind My kind But I think I'll find another like it Just in case the Ever happens Hit me harder next time Didn't quite unplug the sijukatoon This is getting difficult When you want sink your yellow teeth into All of my traits The betrayal is, though I was writing days and days Before it ended. With the Mister particular Drop of a hat And stop if a nugget Of gold One palm in my hand and This could be torture But instead it's just The remienxe of your ignorance And stupidity over and over again Forced into intermittent waves Of my creative genius Till the days of old become again You could be of dust then nothing Before I ponder into another birth I said I'd never write one song or verse or poem about you, But there you are, every weak mortal that becomes Bound to me So I see you die. And I learn to pounce at just the right moment React to the notion that there are Oceans of world I am And all the more the lack of wisdom of man To throw trash in it Again, we rid you of her courage And lady mantras And fresh as it gets The sweater no aprons and just period To circumstance Did you beg or did you shatter your ibdederence? And no, I think not But I keep Leno in my pocket And Carson in my coffin, Two whole shows in my wallet What you are is no apostle just a dirt worm .O. Mm…sunlight. …. the rippling waves wash over the picturesque parasicical seascape from above. However, Stefon's internal monologue is less than pleased to be here. V.O. CONT'D Why do I feel sunlight…? [beat] When I know certainly for sure that I passed out in a basement last night. His eyes begin to flutter open, but the sun closes them–it is much too bright. The waves rush over his lower half, and still, unmoving he continues to la atop the rock, his hands spread out much like a stuck sea star to the rock– in fact, there appear to also be creatures here, some of which are starfish, and however unmoving, STEFON begins to slowly become aware of his surroundings in disgruntlement. V.O. Continued. It's alright that I appear to be wet…[beat] That's to be expected– [a long pause, another wave washes over him as seagulls scream] But i was wearing restraints…. V.O. CONTINUED WHY AM I FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!? His eyes open with the fear and fury. BEFORE: At a wild basement party in NEW YORK CITY, STEFON is offered RESTRAINTS on a silver platter, as if they are o'devours {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project™ ] {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S: ICONS Tales of A Superstar DJ The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū Ascension Deathwish -Ū. Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

Building A Better World for ErosIn 13 parts, By BradentonLarry - Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Don could hear Evelyn off to his right, encouraging her new friend to fuck her harder, as he felt India rocking against him, her hands now on his lower back. He began to fuck India harder and faster, gradually building up the tempo until he was driving into her with rapid short strokes and she was groaning in a steady, staccato rhythm of rising passion. Then she was crying out underneath him as her cunt clenched tightly on his cock, milking it as he kept shoving into her. Don went on fucking India as she came and came again.When he finally let up, she fell back on the bed, her arms and legs spread-eagled and a happy smile on her beautiful face. He kissed her again, and she asked, "How am I supposed to do the orgy now?"Don laughed and said, "I know you'll find a way, and everyone will remember how amazing you were.""This is true," she smiled at him. "Now, go fuck someone else with that beautiful cock of yours."Don quickly kissed her one more time and looked around. The studly blond was now on his knees with his arms wrapped around Evelyn, who had her arms and legs holding him as she rode up and down on that very thick pole of his. Don walked on his knees until he was behind Evelyn, he leaned in and kissed her shoulder, and asked, "Having fun?""Uh huh!" she grunted.Don smiled and got a bit closer, pushing his cock into position. The blond caught on and held Evelyn still long enough that Don could push the fat and slippery head of his cock up into the tight grip of Evelyn's ass."God, fuck yes!" Evelyn said, quite loudly. Then she and the muscular man in front of her went back to raising her up and down, now on two hard cocks. It wasn't long before she was gasping and shuddering, her cunt and ass squeezing and releasing on those cocks.She was still sandwiched between them, when she managed to say, "Don, this is Adam; Adam, Don. Baby, I think I'm going to need to have Adam fuck my ass next."Seeing that another fellow, was in the wings watching Evelyn with obvious lust and a raging hard on that was quite long, but nowhere as thick as Adam's, Don kissed Evelyn's shoulder again, and said, "Show 'em a good time, baby!""Oh, you know it!" she laughed.Don managed to have sex with another ten women that night, though he only came twice, all while keeping an eye on Evelyn as she threw herself into the orgy. It was closer to morning and the orgy was definitely on its last legs, when Don was reclining against a sleeping Lavinia's soft ass and watched a young Latino man pull out of Evelyn's mouth and spray a prodigious amount of white cum all over her face and tits. After she had sucked any leftovers from him, but without wiping any of the cum off her, Evelyn crawled over to give Don a deep kiss.Laughing, he wiped up some of the cum that was now on his face and fed it to her. Then, without a word, she curled up in his arms and they fell asleep."After waking up and getting cleaned up, we took Lavinia home and then came back to the Resort to figure out what we were going to do next.""Wait a minute," Toshia interrupted for the first time in a while. "What do you mean you took Lavinia home? You make it sound like it was just like going next door.""Oh, yeah, well, remember what I said about India taking me to her home? It turns out that if you're in physical contact with someone, and no one else is looking, you can bring them along when you teleport. They didn't tell us we could do that, but we each worked it out. I did it with Jess, and Evelyn got a ring like mine with her Argent mission, too, so she was able to bring Lavinia with her to the Resort.""That's bloody convenient!""Yeah it is," Don grinned.Once they were back at the Resort, Don made his proposal that they work together to develop a couple of places that were related, both spatially and conceptually. Evelyn thought this was a fun idea, and they launched into a couple of days of tossing ideas back and forth, which was, naturally enough, punctuated by quite a few sex breaks. It was Evelyn who came up with the game of pointing out people for the other to have sex with, which Don agreed was a great idea. When one of them said "imperator" and indicated someone, the other had to go play, assuming the person, or, as Don was quick to suggest, persons, were willing, which they almost always were.When they had their grand idea sorted out, they turned to the question of where to situate their project. They thought it didn't really make sense to add what they had in mind to the Resort or Rendezvous, and they didn't particularly want a high-traffic area, but they didn't want it exactly isolated either. So, when they found themselves having wandered out to the Riverboat dock, Don looked across the river and said, "What about over there?""In the forest?" Evelyn frowned thoughtfully as she looked at the wooded hills that rose on the far side of the river."Yeah, it's close to the Resort, but people would have to go out of their way to get to it.""But how would they get to it?""We could put a bridge in, up there, out of the way of the Riverboat turning around," he waved his hand to the right."Easier said than done," she mused."Is it?" Don asked as he started toward the far edge of the dock area, upriver. He called up his menu and selected the "Builder" option. He noticed that there was now a slight reddish tint to the entire dock area, but that the ground just beyond was tinted a light green, though that was a bit hard to see where there was grass. Don imagined a nice flagstone walkway extending from the edge of the dock area and up alongside the river, and then, suddenly, it was there."Holy fuck!" Evelyn laughed.Grinning, Don started along his new walkway and continued adding to it until he came to a spot he thought would be good for the bridge. He had seen the Riverboat turn around and head downriver several times and he was confident it never came this far. He turned his walkway toward the river, and exited Builder mode. Turning to Evelyn with a broad smile, he said, "Your turn."Don watched as Evelyn looked at the river, frowning slightly in concentration. Then there was a sturdy wooden bridge spanning the water. This was replaced a moment later by a red brick expanse, and then a metal and stone one complete with fancy streetlamps."Nice!" he grinned. "Let's test it and make sure we don't get wet.""Are you questioning my imagining skills?""Not at all!" Don laughed. "I'm just not sure how much I trust this whole system.""You think maybe Pamela's just setting us up for a practical joke?""Would it really surprise you if she was?""That's fair," she shrugged. By then they were halfway across the river, and Evelyn said, "'Seems sturdy enough.""Indeed," nodded Don. "You imagine good work.""Okay, your turn," she said as they reached the far side."Oh, I'm walkway guy, now?""I just thought the two walkways should match.""Oh, that's good thinking, but put in some of those lamps along the way.""Okay, but give me a minute to put some in on the other side."Soon, they were standing in a small clearing in roughly the place Don had indicated from the dock across the river. He asked, "How about here?""Sure," she smiled. "How should we begin, though?""Well, how about with this?" Don smiled as a little tent-pavilion appeared before them. Resembling the kind of spread one might imagine at a sheik's oasis, there were dozens of soft pillows surrounding a little fountain spraying sparkling water, and several platters heaped with berries and fruit. Off to the side was a wide hammock strung between two trees. "You know, a base camp for when we want a break.""Nice, but how long do you think this will take?""Do you really think this is the kind of thing either of is going to not want to spend at least several days getting just right?""Yeah, true," she smiled. "Now then, what about all these trees?""We could build around them, or, " Don stopped when he noticed that a big swath of trees, at least a dozen, had already disappeared under Evelyn's gaze. "Or, yeah, just get rid of them."The project went rather quickly the rest of that first day. They each had a project that was particularly theirs, though they each gave the other helpful suggestions, and they shared a project in the middle that served as a bridge (literally and metaphorically) between the other two. Evelyn started with a big columnar building on the upriver end of the clearing they made, and Don set up a sprawling plaza at the downriver end. The next day and the day after that they focused on the area in the middle, working on that until they were happy with the result. Then they went back to their individual projects.Along the way, of course, they took breaks, both playing and talking. They got caught up on each other's adventures and spent hours talking about all the strange things they'd experienced in Eros. Each night they would walk into the Resort for some more social play, except for the night when India came out to see what they were up to. She was quite pleased with what they had accomplished so far and promised to come visit again when they were done. The three of them wound up talking for hours that night, around a campfire Evelyn conjured up, as well as having sex until they could stay awake no longer.Although he knew India tended to prefer men, Don was quite content to take something of a backseat that night, letting Evelyn clearly achieve one of her goals. Licking her clit and slowly fucking India with her entire hand, bringing India to a loud, long, intense orgasm, or more accurately a sustained series of them, while Don held India in his arms, squeezing her tits tightly as she begged him to, definitely seemed to count as rocking India's world. Of course, Don got plenty of attention that night too, including his all-time favorite session of getting head from two gorgeous women at the same time. It truly was a wonderful night.Then, on the seventh day, they had another visitor.Don was putting some finishing touches on the broad park that now spread out on the slope between their project and the river. He had made long, winding paths that made their way slowly to the water, where he had put a dock and a couple of rowboats. Along the paths were secluded little niches with padded benches, and one with a large round bed. He had also put in glowing-orb lamps, which resembled the light balls that illuminated the elven forest, to light the way at night. He was standing near the top of his park, trying to imagine it at night, when he heard a voice behind him saying, "Very nice work, Don."He turned to smile at Pamela, who was wearing her black robe but with the hood down."Thank you," he grinned. "I'm pretty happy with it.""Would you like to show me what else you've done?""Sure!" He gestured up the path that led to his end of the project. "Let's start with the Shelonda-center.""That's what you're calling it?""Well, it's just a nickname, but I thought it was appropriate."He led her through a gate that resembled a Japanese torii gate and into a wide garden that surrounded a very Japanese-looking building with wood and paper panels that could be slid open or closed as desired. The building itself was quite large, and itself surrounded a huge open-air courtyard complete with four fountains and a central platform. All the floors in the four sides of the building and on that central platform had soft, padded mats. Here and there were racks of martial arts weapons, as well as protective sparring gear."Here, I plan to both study and teach kung fu and aikido, adapting both for Eros. I also want to explore the limits of sexuality here in Eros. There's a thing back home called tantric sex, which is supposed to be amazing, and it seems to me that one might be able to do great things with that here. None of this is about violence, of course, but about developing one's sense of self and physicality here, which has great potential that few people seem to appreciate.""Interesting," Pamela nodded with a Mona Lisa smile.They passed through the building on the far side, then through the other side of the garden until they came to a small amphitheater cut into the hillside."Welcome to our school," Don gestured. "Both Evelyn and I are academics by nature and, while there isn't much use for Earth history here, Evelyn's field is philosophy, and there is so much work to do in that area here, particularly in ethics."Don led Pamela up a slope to show her the big pavilion at the center of the Academy. Everything was open to the air, though there were vertical screens that could be moved to create spaces with some degree of privacy. There were chalkboards and white boards with comfortable light chairs that could be rearranged easily, and, as Don and Evelyn had made sure, were quite useful for sex purposes. Don was particularly pleased with the large, round, backless, somewhat-stool-like seats Evelyn had created that were particularly good for having him sit on while Evelyn straddled him, kneeling. His memory of her smiling at him as she rode up and down on him while he kissed, sucked, and nibbled at her nipples while squeezing her ass in his hands was one of his favorites of the "construction" process."Not only can Evelyn and I, and anyone else who wants to, use this space to do philosophy or anything else, but it can be used to live out any schoolroom fantasies someone might have.""Very nice," Pamela nodded.Don led her on until they stood before a towering column, which Don proudly called, "Evelyn's masterpiece, the Library!"Entering through a wide doorway which had no doors, they came to a comfortable lobby that surrounded the central part of the library, a circular shelving system that held millions of books, both on the outside curve and on the slightly more secluded inner curve. The main column of shelves rose four stories, and two of them were here without break, with wheeled ladders enabling access to the higher books. The whole thing was surrounded by a curving wall of glass. A gradual ramp winding around the outside of the lobby and reading area ran up to the second floor and then the third. Here on the second and third floors there were niches and even a couple of secret reading chambers. Everywhere it was easy to find somewhere cozy to read or indulge in some play. Continuing up the ramp, they came to the fourth floor, which was actually five stories up."The books on this floor are all erotica, Evelyn says, and the shelves are actually a maze," Don grinned. "At the center is a big orgy bed! She wants to set up a regular library-orgy night somehow."Don led Pamela up to the next level, the roof. Here there was another pavilion, with a wide central opening, to let in the sun or allow a view of the night sky, and no walls. Everywhere you looked there was a spectacular panoramic view of the rolling, forested hills or the river and the Resort. There were couches, chairs and tables arranged so people could read or socialize freely as they saw fit. In the center, on a platform with five steps, looking very much like an altar, was a very large round bed. Don completely forgot to tell Pamela that the entire surface of the pavilion over their heads would glow at night, as would that of the school pavilion below.It was here that they finally found Evelyn, adjusting the arrangement of furniture. She smiled broadly and welcomed Pamela, who said, "This is very well done. You should both be very proud.""Thank you," Evelyn grinned. "Did you show her the maze, lover?""I told her about it," Don laughed."I was inspired by the Dark Labyrinth," Evelyn said. "And we got the idea for this bed and platform from India.""Do you mind telling me how you got all the books?" Pamela asked.Evelyn shrugged, "Oh, well, that was actually a lot easier than I expected. I visualized the whole setup and then specified that the shelves were filled with unique copies of books in English. There was, well, there is a lot of crap in the collection, but I made the library responsive to whatever you're looking for. If you're looking for a particular translation of Plato's Republic, for instance, you'll find it.""But why have all the other books, then?" Pamela asked.Don shook his head and Evelyn frowned at Pamela as if she were suddenly very thick.Don, who had been down this road before, decided to jump in, saying, "There's something both soothing and erotic about being surrounded by books. Many people, including Evelyn and myself," he emphasized, in Evelyn's direction, "have deep emotional ties to libraries.""I see," Pamela said thoughtfully. "And there is a library in the Manor.""Yes," Evelyn nodded, "but you have to go through the Manor to get to it, and two libraries in Eros isn't too many - not at all.""And it goes so well with the theme of everything else we've done here," added Don."True," Pamela nodded. "So, what do you call all of this, then?""We decided to call the whole complex 'The Academy,'" Evelyn said, obviously hoping Pamela would ask her why.Instead, the dark woman frowned momentarily in concentration and said, "Done." Pamela seemed quite obvious to the expression of obvious disappointment on Evelyn's face, and instead said,Task Seven.

Evelyn's Stage Performance Continues it be a big hit.In 13 parts, By BradentonLarry - Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Evelyn directed the couple into another position. Now the man was lying on his back while his 'wife' rode his cock, rather enthusiastically, while Evelyn sat on the man's face, grinding her cunt and clit on his mouth and watching the woman enjoy that fat cock. Don watched as Evelyn squeezed her own breasts, twisting her nipples, and then reached out to do the same to the woman across from her. Evelyn leaned forward and managed to get her mouth on one of the woman's nipples, which seemed to send the woman into another orgasm. Then, Evelyn was sitting back on the man's face, head thrown back and her hands squeezing her own tits tightly as her body rocked with her own first orgasm of the session.Don's cock throbbed and twitched, as if in sympathy with Evelyn's body.When the trio changed positions again, it was Evelyn's turn to lie on her back, her ass at the edge of the bed, as the man held her legs up and shoved his thick cock back into her cunt. At first the woman knelt on the bed next to Evelyn, making out with her and sucking on her tits, but then she moved up to kneel over Evelyn's face. Don watched as Evelyn grasped the woman's ass and held her in place so she could lick and suck at her clit and cunt, while the man fucked Don's lover hard and deep.Soon the woman was climaxing again, crying out loudly so everyone in the club noticed, and the man was shoving up into Evelyn with short violent strokes until he too was clearly coming. As he eventually drew out of Evelyn, a long, thick strand of cum hung between her cunt and the head of his cock.Evelyn said something to the woman who then quickly got down on her hands and knees at the end of the bed, first to suck the man's cock clean and then to bury her face in Evelyn's messy snatch, licking and sucking up all the cum he'd left there. Soon, Evelyn was sitting half up on the bed, her muscles clenching tight, as she held the woman's head in place while Evelyn's orgasm tore through her.For a long moment, Evelyn just lay back on the bed with a happy smile on her face, and then she sat up and looked out at the audience with a grin. Don grinned back at her, though he was pretty sure she couldn't see him. Still, when she mouthed, "One more?" he gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. In any case, they had agreed she would give him a sign to let him know she was ready to leave, and she certainly hadn't given it.After Evelyn and her two playmates cleared that set, a couple of servitors came and straightened things up quickly, but without bothering to change the bed or anything. By the time Evelyn reappeared, only the big orgy on the circular bed and the couples in the dungeon set were still going at it. Don was downstairs, idly watching the orgy, when Evelyn came back on stage, this time entering the bus stop set. She had her hair in a couple of pigtails and was wearing a light sundress. She took a seat on the plastic bench against the wall, and waited, for a bus, supposedly, but really for her next set of playmates to join her.Soon two men joined her. There was quite a bit of pantomimed flirting and exaggerated come-hither looks before the men were standing in front of Evelyn having their cocks sucked. They had apparently left the door light set to yellow, because by the time Evelyn was on her hands and knees, though still in her sundress, getting spit-roasted, another guy poked his head in and decided to join in. By the time the scene had run its course, Evelyn had serviced six guys altogether, and a beautiful brown-skinned young woman with long, thick, black hair had come in to take over on the mattress. Don was happy to watch this woman enjoy herself while Evelyn got cleaned up and ready for round three.When Evelyn came back on stage, she was again wearing high heels, but this time they came with black boots that went almost all the way up her thighs. Her torso was wrapped in a shiny black bodice that left her crotch and tits exposed, and she was wearing black gloves that went up to the middle of her biceps. Her hair was now pulled back tightly into a ponytail, and she led a beautiful naked Asian woman with black hair hanging down to the middle of her back out and promptly began tying her to a frame that left her spread-eagled and vulnerable to anything Evelyn might inflict upon her.Evelyn spent the next hour teasing and tormenting this poor woman, who seemed to love every minute of it, even when she was begging Evelyn for release. Evelyn finally let the woman come, but only after she had stuffed a rather large ass plug and a big, shiny black dildo into their respective places, and fastened heavy nipple clamps to her nipples. Then, with only the command, "Come," Evelyn reduced the woman to a shuddering, quivering display of ecstasy that went on for what seemed like several long minutes. Then Evelyn sat on a bench so the grateful woman could crawl across the floor on her hands and knees to lick and suck at Evelyn until she made her temporary mistress come.Finally, Evelyn came onto stage with the next bunch of five people to make use of the big circular bed. Two lucky men were accompanied by Evelyn and three women, who all came in naked and wasted no time in climbing onto the bed and getting acquainted. Soon it became rather hard for Don to keep track of Evelyn amid the confusion of heaving bodies. At one point, she was near the center of the bed, slowly turning with it, as she rode slowly up and down on a cock as several hands reached up to caress her body. At another, she was on her hands and knees near the edge, gliding past the front of the stage, making out with a girl lying on her back at right angles to Evelyn, while one of the men slowly, but intently fucked Evelyn from behind.They must have left the light on yellow, because while they played another five people came to join the party - three men and two women, this time. Don found a chair to get comfortable, but continued to resist touching his straining cock. He was a bit amused by all the men in the audience who were, and had been all night, watching Evelyn and bringing themselves to intense, squirting orgasms. He was, however, much more distracted by the women around him, moaning in orgasmic pleasure as they watched the shows before them.Eventually, with her hair a wild mess around her head, Evelyn broke free from the orgy on the bed and staggered to the front of the stage to give the agreed upon sign that she was ready to leave. Don went straight to the exit, expecting to have to wait for Evelyn to get cleaned up, but she met him right away, naked and carrying her clothes with her in a bundle. She had cum all over her and smelled deliciously of the sex she'd been having."Hi there!" she grinned.Don caught her face in his hands and kissed her deeply and passionately.When he released her, she asked, "Did you enjoy the show?""Fuck yes!" he laughed. "Let's go over by the pool and find someplace for the night.""Good idea! I need to get cleaned up.""Not quite yet," Don smiled. "I'm going to add to your, makeup, first.""Oh! Excellent!" she beamed. "You really had a good time?""I did!" he laughed again."Sorry I took so long. If we can't have sex, I want to make sure I'm ready to actually sleep.""Good thinking," Don grinned."What was your favorite part?" she asked."It was all very hot, but I have to admit the first one was probably my favorite," Don said. "I liked the story you were telling.""I knew you'd get it!""What was your favorite part?" he asked."Oh, that's easy," she said, "this next bit!"Laughing, he said, "That doesn't count.""Hum, well, that's really hard to say. There were high points in each scene. In the first one, for instance, I really liked having that guy, Dave, fucking me from behind while I went down on Julie. In the second, well, there was that first time I had three cocks in me at once. Then, when I let Tamiko come, that was hot! I came so many times during the last scene I couldn't say, really. Damn, I really have become a wild woman here, haven't I?""Yeah, and I love it!" Don grinned.They had reached the poolside and quickly found a double-sized lounger. Evelyn dropped her clothes on the ground and sat down on the edge of the lounger, leaning back and spreading her legs in front of Don."Damn! That's so tempting," he breathed."No touching!" she smiled up at him. "Just watch me as I touch myself. You liked watching those men fucking me, didn't you? It felt so good to have them in my cunt and ass, and to suck them, and to lick those sexy pussies and clits," Evelyn said as her hands moved slowly over her body, cupping her breasts and then sliding over her taut belly down between her legs."I kept thinking about how hard your cock must be as you were watching me up on that stage, fucking and getting fucked, sucking and licking, coming over and over." She was simultaneously strumming her clit and fucking herself with several fingers. "I kept thinking how hot it was to have you watching me, watching me suck, and fuck, and all that cum on my face and tits, and, and, up inside me, God, Don, I'm going to come again. Give me your cum, Don!"Don couldn't restrain himself any longer. His iron-hard cock swelled in his hands and then erupted, spraying a geyser of hot cum all over Evelyn's naked body. It splattered all over her belly, across her tits and neck, and hit her chin. The second gout splashed over her lower belly and covered her fingers, getting pushed up into her cunt as she clenched upon herself on the lounger, her face scrunched up tightly as she came with him.Don staggered backward a bit and Evelyn fell back on the lounger with a heavy sigh."Ugh," she moaned. "I need to clean up, but I don't think I can move.""Fuck it," Don chuckled. "Let's just do it when we wake up.""Seriously?" she laughed. "Okay.""But you do have to move. We can't sleep like that.""I'm not moving. You get your own," she waved her hand in the air. When Don actually started to sit down on the next lounger over, though, she said, "Fine, fine, I'm moving!"They managed to spend the night spooned together, in a rather sticky mess, without violating the terms of Don's mission to not have physical-contact sex, and then enjoyed a leisurely bath in the pool in the morning. At the resort's wardrobery, they managed to find Evelyn a nice backpack for her pilgrimage, and then, with a long hug and a deep, loving kiss, she set off in quest of the Grove of Rati."So, you were left alone again, in the sex resort where you couldn't actually have sex, for a year," Toshia summed up."Yeah, that's about the size of it.""How did it go?""Well, at the time it seemed very slow, but when it was over it didn't seem bad at all," Don shrugged. "I did have a couple of visitors along the way. Both Nicole and Stephanie passed through the Resort before I was done.""How were they doing?""Okay. I found out that the watcher's council seemed to have something of a pattern in their assignments. A few personalized quests to start with and then a long-term test, like my sheriff's job or Evelyn's pilgrimage. Nicole had to find the Trans-Erosian Railway and ride it from end to end. She came through the Resort heading in the opposite direction from Evelyn, hoping to connect with that train. Stephanie came through very near the end of my year after spending a year in Rendezvous without having sex with any men.""That sounds a lot easier than your task," Toshia frowned."That's what I said!" Don laughed. "She admitted it wasn't that difficult, but she was glad to get back to 'proper fucking' as she called it. Oh, and I got to talk to India a few times, too. But mostly, I just kept myself busy watching other people and getting to know the ins and outs of the Resort. I fell into a pretty stable, comfortable routine. I was actually kind of surprised when I came back into my office after a 'patrol,' and suddenly found myself in that big courtyard at the Hall of the Crimson Mountain King. At that moment, I was mostly just happy that my staff, which I had left in the office, appeared a second later on the ground at my feet. Then I remembered that this meant I could have sex again!"Toshia chuckled, "Uh oh!""Yeah," Don laughed. "I got into and out of those showers in record time. Then I dove into that super orgy for a solid hour. The first girl I hooked up with was a thin young woman, probably about nineteen. I've never had such an intense passionate session of anonymous sex in my life. I was nice about it, of course, but I fucked the hell out of that girl.""I'll bet!" Toshia laughed. "Did she object?"Don shook his head, "Not at all. But after I'd had my fun, I cleaned up and headed upstairs for my next mission."Task Five:"Congratulations, Don, you're now more than halfway finished with your tasks," Pamela almost smiled. "For your next assignment, we want you to find a familiar face. To be clear, we mean you must find someone you clearly recognize, and can put a name to, but whom you haven't seen previously in Eros.""So, if I recognize my second-grade teacher but can't remember her name, that doesn't count?""Exactly," she nodded."Do they have to remember who they are?" Don asked, thinking of all the people who seemed to have little or no memory of their non-Erosian existence. In particular, he recalled the stunning Price is Right model he had been so happy to meet on the beach outside Rendezvous."No," Pamela said. "We will be able to verify their identities to corroborate you.""That's handy.""We are aware that this particular task is largely out of your control and could take a very long time to complete. We are also, frankly, impressed with your efforts so far. So, we have decided to grant you some of the power you are seeking a bit early."She gestured to a ring that was now on the table in front of Don. Picking it up, he thought it had the weight and look of white gold. He slipped it onto his left middle finger. Nothing happened."You have to press it twice in quick succession to call up the menu."Don pressed the ring twice with his thumb as if he were double-clicking the ring. Suddenly, floating a bit above the midrange of his visual field was a horizontal blue bar. There was one item, in white letters, on that bar: "Travel.""Concentrate on the desired menu item to activate it," Pamela went on.Don wasn't sure what he was supposed to be doing, but he focused intently on "Travel," until a drop-down menu opened with the following list: Abbey of Records; Crimson Mountain - Porch; Elven Court; Gladys's Office; Grotto of Ishtar; Heolfor House; India's Home; Manor; Rendezvous - Beach; Rendezvous - Riverboat Dock; Resort; Shagbottom; Sisterhood Castle; Untamed Village; Witches' Glen; and, Wizard's Home."Nice!" Don breathed."When you visit a new location for which there is an established landmark it will automatically be added to your list," Pamela continued to explain. "Before you select anything, I should add that you can dismiss the display at any time."Don tried willing the menu and bar away and they promptly vanished. He called it up again and dismissed it, just for practice."When you select a travel destination, the menu will automatically close when you arrive. With the exception of these offices, you will not be able to use the ring to travel when anyone else can see you. Well, anyone who doesn't have a similar ring or one that is higher in rank, that is. Also, when traveling to a location, you will arrive at the closest safe position to the landmark where no one can see your arrival.""This is incredibly useful!" Don grinned."It is," Pamela nodded. "Do you have any questions about your task?""Find someone I can name from outside Eros," Don smiled. "Then report back here.""Exactly," Pamela said. "You should be able to manage all your own travel from now on.""So, I just call up the menu, focus on "Travel," then focus on a destination, "Then suddenly Don found himself standing outside the Abbey of Records."Whoa! Seriously?" Toshia gaped."Yeah," Don chuckled. "It's pretty cool. When I'm in Eros I can bop around like crazy. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a lot of fun.""Damn!""Well, I am restricted to the places I've already found, like in a video game with unlockable fast-travel points, but it's still massively useful. I'm thinking about setting off on a general exploration trip when I go back, to collect as many landmarks as I can. Stephanie probably has a lot more than I do. I know Evelyn's list is different from mine. She's got the Dark Labyrinth and a bunch of places she found on her pilgrimage, but not the Wizard's Home or Shagbottom, for instance.""That must have made your task much easier.""Well," Don paused. "I'm sure it cut out a lot of time going from one place to another, but it still took a lot of time to find someone I recognized. I started out just working down the list of places, skipping Gladys's office, the Grotto of Ishtar, and India's home. I was at the Abbey of Records anyway, so I went in and asked Charlotte if she could help me out at all. Naturally, I had to go through the whole routine, which took quite a while, and, in the end, she got a lot more out of me than I did from her. She wasn't aware of anyone that I might recognize, but then I had known it was going to be a long shot anyway. I crossed that off my list of places to try."I skipped the Crimson Mountain, figuring it would just take too damn long to try to comb through that orgy, or go looking for other rooms in that place, and went right to the elven court, Heolfor House, et cetera. It was kind of fun revisiting places and talking to people again. The Wizard and Madeleine, the Player, the Lady and Robert all say 'hi,' by the way. And Daphne says I'm to bend you over and fuck you hard in the ass.""Oh my!" Toshia laughed, actually feeling her cheeks reddening a bit.

Last night we all had our collective hearts broke as we watched a GOD DAMN golfing gent not quite get it done in the US for the umpteenth time. Tommy deserved that W but was robbed in the closing stages. In today's ep we dive into that 18 holes on Sunday, Green's 82 in a COMPETITION and Price's new chipping prowess. - ⁠Email⁠ - thetoms@golfisruiningmylife.co.uk ⁠Tik Tok⁠  ⁠Youtube⁠  - New episodes every Monday & Thursday!! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

I said GODDAMN...goddamn...welcome back to pop culture purgatory!!!! This week the boys continue on with their Tarantino month with possibly his magnum opus Pulp Fiction from 1994 written by Quentin Tarantino and Roger Avery. The film stars Tim Roth, Amanda Plummer, Laura Lovelace, John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Phil LaMarr, Frank Whaley, Burr Steers, Bruce Willis, Ving Rhames, Paul Calderon, Rosanna Arquette, Eric Stoltz, Christopher Walken and Uma Thurman!!!! Thanks for checkin us out!!!! You can find our most recent and our back catalog on Podbean.com and you can find us where most podcasts are found. Intro "Surf Rider" by The Lively Ones https://youtu.be/lmZsuEH-llU?si=7Nsmeq07e-mmyU3U Outro "Flowers on the Wall" https://youtu.be/t34mwI2Wfmk?si=vNfrhXLnbxBKvtpB      

Chef Robby stops by and brings the noise with big bad mama from 74. Voicemails: 732-639-1435

After the ApocalypseA pandemic survival storySeason five, Episode twenty – “Released”...The truck roared down the highway towards Defender. Janet gripped the wheel and focused on the road. The old man held the grab handle and rested a calming hand on the dog's head that had been thrust under his arm from the back seat. He was trying very hard not to worry about how fast she was pushing. "It would be nice not to die in an accident on an abandoned road!” The old man shouted over the road noise as Janet took the Defender exit off the highway. She squeezed at high speed between a wrecked bus and a derelict semi. The old man visibly stiffened as the tires protested in a plaintive squeal. “Don't worry.” She replied, “I'll get you there in one piece…(pause) Probably…” She added with a wink. “Goddamn woman!” The old man cursed and held on tight as they bounced onto the two-lane access road. “Going to get us all killed.” ...Buy a book -> https://booklocker.com/books/13731.htmlWebsite -> http://www.oldmanapocalypse.com Buy me Coffee -> https://www.buymeacoffee.com/cyktrussellSubscribe page on Acast -> https://plus.acast.com/s/after-the-apocalypsePodcast on Acast -> https://shows.acast.com/after-the-apocalypseFacebook group -> https://www.facebook.com/groups/oldmanapocalypseYouTube -> https://www.youtube.com/@cyktrussellPatreon to support the show -> https://www.patreon.com/AftertheApocalypseMerch Store -> https://www.teepublic.com/stores/after-the-apocalypse Twitter -> cyktrussell@twitter.comRunRunLiveWebsite -> https://www.runrunlive.comPodcast on Acast -> https://shows.acast.com/runrunlive Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Michele & Lauren recap "The Valley" Episode 4—aka the one where podcast Michele falls in love with Jesse.In The Valley Season 2, Episode 4, the gang heads to Santa Barbara for some “healing,” but it turns into a group therapy session run by chaos and wine. Jax is in rehab but still manages to text Brittany like he's auditioning for a role in as her ex husband sooner rather than later. Jesse tries to win back Michelle with a peace flag, but she treats it like he handed her a wet sock. Meanwhile, Zack and Janet patch things up with tears and hugs—until Zack remembers he's still mad and throws some passive-aggressive glitter.Follow us on IG/Tiktok @bravo_breakdowns and watch the video of this episode available on Youtube!

Whatcha gonna do in this Dystopian era, girly pop? READ FRIDAY BLACK by Nana Kwame. K byeee

This week we see all the dynamics forming before going on Porsha's birthday trip. Angela and Drew have teamed up, Brit and Drew have made up, and Shamea and Porsha are boo'd up. We finally make it to Nashville, where a lot of partying ensues, but drama happens when Angela tells Porsha she has invited Drew herself.If you enjoyed this episode please share it with your Real Housewives of Atlanta friends and follow us on Instagram at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠@taglinetwinks⁠⁠

Another Goddamn Horror Podcast Presents: Bloody Book Club Ep. 1 – Robert Essig & Disco RiceWelcome to Bloody Book Club, our brand-new side project where Ryan sits down with his favorite voices in horror, splatterpunk, and extreme fiction to talk blood, guts, and great writing. In our debut episode, we're joined by the one and only Robert Essig to dig deep into his recent release, the gloriously grimy Disco Rice. We talk about the twisted roads that led him into the splatterpunk scene, the brutal beauty of his cover art, and the foul, fascinating inspirations behind what's sure to be a modern splatterpunk classic. It's books, it's blood, it's Another Goddamn Horror Podcast—but with more reading and just as much screaming.

We're not sure who needs to hear this but... if you're looking to blast a bunch of meth over a wall and into a prison, using a high-powered, air cannon isn't going to be the quietest option available. Let's talk about that, an elderly neighbor planning on throwing a Goddamn rager, how much is light is too much light in your garage, discovering that mummy bodies actually smell "pretty good" after all, and more on today's episode of Can You Don't?!*** Wanna become part of The Gaggle and access all the extra content on the end of each episode PLUS tons more?! Our Patreon page is LIVE! This is the biggest way you can support the show. It would mean the world to us: http://patreon.com/canyoudontpodcast ***New Episodes every Wednesday at 12pm PSTWatch on Youtube: https://youtu.be/N2t_e-gSUDUSend in segment content: heyguys@canyoudontpodcast.comMerch: http://canyoudontpodcast.comMerch Inquires: store@canyoudontpodcast.comFB: http://facebook.com/canyoudontpodcastIG: http://instagram.com/canyoudontpodcastYouTube Channel: https://bit.ly/3wyt5rtOfficial Website: http://canyoudontpodcast.comCustom Music Beds by Zach CohenFan Mail:Can You Don't?PO Box 1062Coeur d'Alene, ID 83816Hugs and Tugs.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Flaming sh*t... that's the only sneak peek you're getting here. Original Posts The time we housed a goddamn psychopath TIFU by staying in touch with my psych ward friend My childhood paranormal story. Neighbor's "friend" didn't want anyone near her. Learn more about Evergreen Podcasts and Wessler Media. Visit TheRRShow.com Check out our Subreddit Follow us on socials: TikTok Instagram YouTube Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hello to our lovely coven, happy Wednesday! We already know you loved this episode, because Psychic Medium Chris Medina told us so! ;) Come sit with your aunties while Chris shares his 2025 predictions about Dayna, Katie, the world, and even our Pod entirely! Need something cute and cozy for the new year? Well, we just dropped some cute winter Disrespectfully swag, get yourself or whoever's on your daddy list a beanie, hoodie, or daddy hat from our store! Please  support our show and show off your love for Disrespectfully by repping our official gear :) K Love ya bye! Thank you to our sponsors! O POSITIV: Take proactive care of your vaginal health and head to https://OPositiv.com/DRF or enter DISRESPECTFULLY at checkout for 25% off your first purchase QUICKIES: For Disrespectfully listeners only, take 20% off your next order with code DISRESPECTFULLY (not applicable with other promotions, discounts or bundles) Connect with the Coven! Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1930451457469874 Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/r/disrespectfullypod/ Listen to us on Apple: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/disrespectfully/id1516710301 Listen to us on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/0J6DW1KeDX6SpoVEuQpl7z?si=c35995a56b8d4038   Follow us on Social! Disrespectfully Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/disrespectfullypod/?hl=en Disrespectfully Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@disrespectfullypod?_t=8icuQMhG3jz&_r=1 Katie Maloney Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/musickillskate/?hl=en Dayna Kathan Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/daynakathan/?hl=en Chris Medina Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/psychicchrism/?hl=en Buy our merch!  https://disrespectfullypod.com/ Disrespectfully is an Envy Media Production.

This week on Blocked and Reported, Jesse and Katie break their No Politics rule. Plus, Latinxs against Latinx and Michigan's DIE monstrosity.Biden administration clarifies stance on surgeries for trans minors after backlash | Biden administration | The GuardianFlorida StatutesLatinx studiesOpinion | Use of ‘Latinx' has moved some Latino voters toward Trump. - The Washington PostWhat to Know About the University of Michigan's D.E.I. Experiment - The New York TimesRESULTS: This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.blockedandreported.org/subscribe

Honoring Valor: A Conversation with Vietnam Veteran and Silver Star Recipient Marc Lawrence In this week's Team Never Quit Podcast, we have the honor of speaking with Marc Lawrence, a Vietnam veteran and recipient of the prestigious Silver Star for his acts of gallantry in combat. Marc shares his incredible journey, from his early days growing up, to his experiences in the Vietnam War, and how those experiences shaped his life afterward. This episode is a tribute to his bravery, sacrifice, and the resilience of the human spirit. His story is one of courage, dedication, and unwavering patriotism. Marc recounts some his experiences in Vietnam, the challenges he faced, and the importance of remembering and honoring the sacrifices made by service members. Marc's experiences in Vietnam shaped his outlook on life and leadership. Thank you for listening, and don't forget to honor our veterans. In This Episode You Will Hear: • As a kid, we grew up reading Sergeant Rock comic books, and we were playing Army in the woods, and a buddy & I played Frogmen. We had boats and we would slip into the canals and go underwater in the middle of the night. (8:03) • In basic training I learned the joys of KP and guard duty. (9:05) • The first thing you learn in a firefight – you can't hear anything. (25:42) • I'm on the ground in a prone position. A bullet went under my hand, through my sling, between my arm and my chest, and tore out the stock of my gun.  Stray bullet. (26:16) • What am I gonna do when the shit hits the fan? My body was so full of adrenaline. When 3 events happened – [I thought] “I can't get killed.” (31:15) • After I realized I can't get killed, I threw caution to the wind. (31:35) • I always heard the mortars - never heard this one. And it threw me back. I don't know what's going on. One piece of shrapnel peeled my scalp back. (33:20) • All the crazy things I did was to train me for this one night so I could save my men. (42:17) • My last minute in the Army typifies my entire Army career. The finance Corps Major sees me. Goes to his pay clerk and gives an order not to pay me until I get a haircut. (44:06) • One day, I get this box in the mail I open it up and it's a Silver Star. I didn't tell anybody. They didn't know what it was anyway. (46:57) • The doctors told me: “Son, we don't know if you're gonna be able to walk again or not. My exact words Wer “Fuck you, I'm walking out of your Goddamn hospital.” (48:49) • President [Bush] looked at me and said and said “Son, I know what it takes to get one of those [Silver Star]. I want to shake your hand.” (58:37) • My life driven by outside forces that I can't control. (62:25) Socials: -  IG: team_neverquit , marcusluttrell , melanieluttrell , huntero13 - https://www.patreon.com/teamneverquit Sponsors:    - Navyfederal.org          - drinkAG1.com/TNQ    - GoodRX.com/TNQ    - ghostbed.com/TNQ [TNQ]    - Shadyrays.com [TNQ]   - Hims.com/TNQ    - Shopify.com/TNQ   - mackweldon.com/utm_source=streaming&utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=podcastlaunch&utm_content=TNQutm_term=TNQ   - PXG.com/TNQ   - Aura.com/TNQ   - Moink.com/TNQ    - Policygenius.com   - TAKELEAN.com [TNQ]   - usejoymode.com [TNQ]   - Shhtape.com [TNQ]