Podcasts about Hellevator

Count Vardulon is on holiday, so it's up to DM and Rob Rector to pick up the slack and they do so with two more elevator movies. Down could've been good if it weren't so determined to retread old ground, and Hellevator is just weird. Tune in to find out what Rob thinks of Trap, and stay for surprisingly decent list from an unexpected source.

Just because it looks like you're all alone… doesn't mean you are. If someone in the darkness calls out to you, don't answer them.STORIESHellevatorDan is a cop on the nightshift. When he's asked to check something out at the deserted senior home, he discovers one resident never left. Thank you, Dan Cope, for sharing your story with us.Produced by Anne Ford, original score by Richard HaigQueen MaryThe Queen Mary is one of the most haunted places in America. But Daniel and his friends don't take any heed of the history when they're asked to spend the night aboard the ship. Thank you, Daniel Noah, for sharing another terrifying tale with us. Daniel makes horror films and he also makes podcasts about horror films. Check out his amazing podcast: Visitations.Produced by Eliza Smith, original score by Lauryn NewsonArtwork by Teo Ducot

Join Kiki Monique and me as we revisit the latest episode of Season 13 of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. In this recap, we delve into the aftermath of Crystal's Vegas birthday as the drama shifts to Sutton Stracke's home. Was Erika's decision to put Sutton on the spot justified? Opinions are divided, with some labeling Sutton as a prude and others supporting her stance. Let's discuss all things Beverly Hills! For more: upandadamlive.com Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Caitlin is joined by Zack Peter from the “No Filter with Zack” podcast to recap the juicy and layered episode 4 of season 13 of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills! Please, leave a cute review, bestie! Follow Zack on Instagram, TikTok, and YouTube! Follow Caitlin on @bestiesbybravo on Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, and YouTube! Any statement made by Caitlin Marshall or her guests on the Besties by Bravo podcast are merely matter of opinion and no gossip mentioned is independently verified, it is for entertainment purposes only and "just for fun". Besties by Bravo podcast, webpages, and social media channels are not affiliated with Bravo or their parent company NBCUniversal.

For Inquiries: bravobreakingnews@gmail.com Shop Bravo Breaking News on Etsy: https://www.etsy.com/shop/BravoBreakingNews Kim (@bravobreakingnews) and Lisa (@lisanotrinna) are back to break down this week's episode of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, Hellevator. We discuss Kyle and Mauricio's relationship woes, Erika's elevator confrontation, and the epic scene between Kyle and Sutton (Name 'em!) that will go down in Housewives history. Will Kyle and Mau last? Is this the beginning of the end of Erika and Sutton? And is Sutton really okay? Watch to find out, and make sure you subscribe so you don't miss any Bravo Breaking News!

Rick & Kelly break out their Kemosabe Cowboy Hats to break down the highs & lows of this week's HELLEVATOR edition of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, with more on Sutton's temper tantrum in Las Vegas, Kyle's possible midlife crisis, more of Garcelle's issues with the women & her kids, and Mauricio & PK on their side by side marital challenges. Kelly brings back her spot-on impersonations of Sutton & Erika and shares why she thinks Crystal should've gotten a bit more attention... plus Rick & Kelly reveal why they're sharing a final EMERGENCY The Rick & Kelly Show on Patreon.com! Get your BLUMENE FACE PRO at $70 OFF, but only the first 100 ORDERS, at https://blumene.com/rickandkelly with a money back guarantee from Blumene! Rick & Kelly's RHOBH Recap & their Daily Smash are brought to you by IYLIA WINE! Get yours at 20% OFF on the 1st 2 bottles & FREE SHIPPING on 3 bottles or more using the discount code RICK&KELLY20 at https://IYLIA.COM #rhobh #kylerichards #erikajayne #bravo #bravotv #suttonstracke #doritkemsley #garcellebeauvais #crystallminkoff #mauricio #lasvegas #vegas #magicmike #dancers #drama #birthday #itsmypartyandillcryifiwanto #mauricioandkyle #blumene #blumenefacepro #iyliawine #rickandkelly #rickandkellyshow #patreon

Lenzi and I are back to that fancy-pants zip code that is Beverly Hills — and the ladies are still in Sin City, wrapping up Crystal's 40th birthday party. I'm glad she got the love and attention that she deserved for her milestone birthday. Of course, Ms. Sutton Stracke is a little bit off her rocking horse rocker though! The ladies go into why she seems such a messy ass, with even Garcelle agreeing that her overly dramatic meltdowns don't warrant the situations. Listen to NYC Gal Out, a Spotify podcast — available wherever you get your podcasts. "TEA & KIKI" w/ NYC Gal Out Podcast is a pop-culture and entertainment podcast; dedicated to the latest gossip and headlines of celebrities and other people of fame or notoriety (some good, some bad) — we'll let you decide who you're a stan, a fan, or a hater of. Get more info on my blog: ⁠https://nycgalpod.com⁠ Copyright Disclaimer: Under Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976, allowance is made for "fair use" for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. Fair use is a use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be infringing. All topics are for entertainment purposes only.

In this episode, I catch up with Nate Spitz. Nate is one of the most creative and talented mountain bikers in the Sea to Sky and has a lot of wisdom to share.Originally from New Hampshire on the east coast of the USA, Nate grew up skiing, and when he wasn't doing that he was riding bikes and learning an impressive bag of tricks.He now lives and works here in Squamish, sharing his skills and passion through Yoann Barelli's Into The Gnar coaching company, and also through a multitude of free-ride, filming, and building projects.We chat about:What it is like to build and ride some of the gnarliest features in town.How he motivates himself to keep working towards a challenging goal.How to get into a flow state more often.The importance of play on your bike.His latest edit in collaboration with Alistair Spriggs.The Hellevator feature build and first ride.You can join the wild ride by following Nate @ztipsetan on Instagram, @natespitz6583 on YouTube or book in for a coaching session with him at intothegnar.comNate would like to offer a special thanks Yoann Barelli for his ongoing support.___________________________THE MIND MOUNTAINthemindmountain.comInstagram @the_mind_mountainFacebook @themindmountainYouTube @Jake JohnstoneDISCLAIMER: The opinions, thoughts, and views in the content created by The Mind Mountain, the Grit With Wisdom Podcast, and Jake Johnstone, including the guests they interview, are solely their own and do not reflect the official policy or position of any other organization, person, or company mentioned or featured in the podcast. The content is intended solely for entertainment purposes only. THE MIND MOUNTAIN, THE GRIT WITH WISDOM PODCAST, AND ITS AUTHORS ASSUME NO RESPONSIBILITY OR LIABILITY FOR ANY DIRECT, INDIRECT, INCIDENTAL, SPECIAL, CONSEQUENTIAL, OR OTHER DAMAGES ARISING OUT OF THE USE, REFERENCE TO, RELIANCE ON, OR INABILITY TO USE THE PODCAST OR THE INFORMATION PROVIDED IN THE PODCAST, ON SOCIAL MEDIA SITES OR ON OUR WEBSITE. THE LISTENERS OF THE PODCAST, AND READERS OF OUR SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS, BLOG POSTS, AND ANY OTHER MEDIA ACKNOWLEDGE AND ACCEPT THAT THEY ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR OWN ACTIONS, SAFETY, AND WELL-BEING WHEN ENGAGING IN ANY ACTIVITY RELATED TO MOUNTAIN BIKING OR ANY OTHER ACTIVITY MENTIONED. ...

In a small town, six unsuspecting people get stuck inside a movie theater, which begins descending straight to hell!   Brian Bridges https://twitter.com/manlybrian   Tim Demeuse https://twitter.com/idagrabyourgun   Forrest G Emerson https://twitter.com/StabbyGM https://twitter.com/StabbyQuest Eric S Patt https://twitter.com/es_pattycake   Portal Non Portal Mix by Ov Moi Omm is licensed under a Attribution 4.0 International License. https://freemusicarchive.org/music/ov-moi-omm/single/portal-non-portal-mix/   ----------------------   Website: http://timetodierpg.com/   Support us by making a pledge on Patreon https://www.patreon.com/TimeToDieRPG Or you can donate money through Ko-Fi https://ko-fi.com/timetodierpg Check out our merch at SoNerdWear.com! (Use the promo code TimeToDie at checkout for 10% off your entire purchase.) https://sonerdwear.com/timetodie Want to hang out and even play D&D with us? Join our Discord server! https://discord.gg/j9EaDRV You can also follow us on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TimeToDieRPG Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/timetodierpg/ And YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVaj0OGnO8neV_9ErNYuVGw

In a small town, six unsuspecting people get stuck inside a movie theater, which begins descending straight to hell! Brian Bridgeshttps://twitter.com/manlybrian Tim Demeusehttps://twitter.com/idagrabyourgun Forrest G Emersonhttps://twitter.com/StabbyGMhttps://twitter.com/StabbyQuestEric S Patthttps://twitter.com/es_pattycake Portal Non Portal Mix by  Ov Moi Omm is licensed under a Attribution 4.0 International License.https://freemusicarchive.org/music/ov-moi-omm/single/portal-non-portal-mix/ ---------------------- Website:http://timetodierpg.com/ Support us by making a pledge on Patreonhttps://www.patreon.com/TimeToDieRPGOr you can donate money through Ko-Fihttps://ko-fi.com/timetodierpgCheck out our merch at SoNerdWear.com! (Use the promo code TimeToDie at checkout for 10% off your entire purchase.)https://sonerdwear.com/timetodieWant to hang out and even play D&D with us? Join our Discord server!https://discord.gg/j9EaDRVYou can also follow us on Twitter:https://twitter.com/TimeToDieRPGInstagram:https://www.instagram.com/timetodierpg/And YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCVaj0OGnO8neV_9ErNYuVGw ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

Hallo zusammen! Herzlich Willkommen zu unserer ersten Folge. Wir freuen uns sehr mit Euch gemeinsam Stray Kids und die Welt des K-Pop ein bisschen genauer zu erforschen! Songs, die in der Folge erwähnt wurden: - Hellevator (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AdfIfFGCqgo&pp=ygUKaGVsbGV2YXRvcg%3D%3D) - God's Menu (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQTlCHxyuu8&pp=ygUJZ29kcyBtZW51) - Muddy Water (https://youtu.be/HAbxStVh5PQ) Folgt uns gerne auf Instagram: Stays Room (@staysroom_08) • Instagram-Fotos und -Videos

Today's K-Pop Musician is "스트레이키즈(Stray Kids)". Through the reality show "Stray Kids" that aired in 2017, they debuted as an 8-membered, multi-national boy group in March of the following year. With their debut album, they topped iTunes album charts in 10 countries. It was selected by Billboard in 2018 and was chosen as the top 5 K-pop artists. They proved to be a monster rookie as the best rising star. They have a producing team called 3RACHA. They write, compose, and arrange various songs. With the title and lyrics that stand out with unique naming ability, it is a team that completed the music of "Mara Flavor Genre" with a confident message capturing all listeners' tastes. They set a new record for K-pop idols with each album they release, proving their popularity at home and abroad!!! They proved the truth that uniqueness can become something special. K-pop's blockbuster group! Special trend! It's Stray Kids' music. Let's see it now~ * Today's playlist 1. 특(S-Class) - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) 2. Hellevator - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) 3. Back Door - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) 4. CASE 143 - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) 5. 땡(FREEZE) - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) (Nive's Pick) 6. 비행기 (Airplane) - 스트레이 키즈(Stray Kids) (Sam's Pick)

Come check out our new format! We will concentrate on a new artist/group every week. Over on YouTube we will react to a couple of their MVs and a guide (or some sort of behind the scenes content) on Wednesdays and then some dance practices/lives on Fridays.This week we are diving deeper into Stray Kids- one of Kay's absolute favorites. Stay tuned for our Say What?!? segment where we talk about how the heck they change their hair color so often!Check out our Youtube channel for our reactions to "Hellevator", "Fam", and "2022 Guide to Stray Kids"- stick around for Friday as well!https://www.youtube.com/@yallhearingthisWe want to hear from you!https://www.instagram.com/yallhearingthis/https://twitter.com/yhtpodhttps://www.facebook.com/yallhearingthisyallhearingthispod@gmail.comSupport us over on Patreon for exclusive content, podcast polls, and the opportunity to choose songs/artist for us to react to:https://www.patreon.com/yallhearingthisMerch now available!https://www.redbubble.com/shop/ap/115388475Theme music by TAVAmusic Theme music by TAVAmusic

" Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." iPhones . What? The 3rd world war is fought with phones. Oh. This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective conciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technolocally-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of conciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infintely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting eachother in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculius lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. In rick and morty's universe: Ohhh, oh shit rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? Uhhh--Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. Oh, you mean Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… --You said "monkey" twice-- ...Space Wars… I don't know, morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, t got, uh, it got pretty deep. Flashback: Dillon Pickle Francis/ pickle rick Flashback: Hellavator Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating rick and morty/justin roiland from existence in entirety. ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from run ricky run) as it's main character. What the-- Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. --who, what? H-h-holdon-- Morty, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to it's original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. DUEL! Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! This is just, brutal-- That was just a highlight real. The boss fight is live. Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! Hanzel and Gretl are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immidiately transport attendees into the Collesium, where a furious Sonny/Skrillex and a rage-fueled SŪP∆ have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating worm holes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Raveweaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Collesium at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage Unassumingly, strolling along stage right Skrillex sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entorage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popcicles, and cupcakes...supaclassy. Dillon Francis lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omnj-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imiginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after) SŪP∆ after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She preforms various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. (MIND. BLOWN.) throughout the dimensions: AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* Dillon, from center Sees SŪP∆ seeing Skrillex, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confusious.) She's mad. Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see Skrillex seeing SŪP∆, squinting Skrillexy. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. OH GOD, NO! He morphs into Dillon glances/flances, (3) (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th Dillon Glances: I can't. Dillon Francis: You CAN. Glances: I can't. I'm not a DJ. Dillon Francis: Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. glances: Jesus. Dillon Francis: DO IT. they run off in three seperate directions: Dillon Francis runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place... Dillon Flances runs into the festivals huge and quickly growingega-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exciting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. Dillon Glances, who is not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort,( by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") , eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.)--posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks Skrillex and SŪP∆ charge towards eachother furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to eachother, radiating in fury and anger, they explode at eachother. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simoltaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. Skrillex: Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? Dillon Francis: *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS? Bampheramphs: From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars. Dillon Francis? Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ Rich As Fuck: Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. Dillon Francis: Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? Dillon Francis: Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, Dillon vanishes. What the-- BOTH: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) what are you doing here? Dillon: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? Skrillex: Why? Dillon Francis: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't WHAT Dillon Francis, blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? Giggatwats? Gooodddamn. (God is going mad from all the goddamnes goddamns, the Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.) Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. Rave… Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? Pasqualle: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. Coming in from other room. Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt thier heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simoltaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ Before the initial collision... Exited for EDC? Are you serious? Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Dillon Francis? Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. Why not? This guy is awesome. *Rolls eyes* since when do you listen to EDM? I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. (She watches the video where Dillon Francis plays a backyard party) Huh. ________________ Dillon Francis arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he i ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him asking "Who the fuck is that?" Well that's because the answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Exactly. Oh, please. The Great Saltair, Salt Lake City, Utah SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted. Yikes. She looks down at her [watch/early version of the synesthesia panel] it is 7:35. Annnnnd--the night is young… She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs: She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. Dimitri: Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. Supa: Every day is rave day. Dimitri: I wish. Supa: it is. And wishes come true. Dimitri: Ugh, I wish. Supa: Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. Dimitri: Think so? Supa: Know so. Like--know-know...so...don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just…be...specific. *He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance* ...like super specific. Dimitri: ...Specific…Wishes… Supa: Rollin'? Dimitri: *he nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat house coming from the mainstage* Supa: just kicked in? Dimitri: shaking head in agreement Yuh. Supa: Water? (She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immidiately) Dimitri: (he takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front oh him, but his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up yo see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up. Supa: spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. Dimitri: ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! He happily the DJ loops the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown S Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as Dimitri 'checks' himself, unaware of Supa's Powers. Supa: Trash. He enters his trash, after which supa immidiately collapses, as it vanishes. Dimitri: ...what was...what was that. Supa: that...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. (magic isnt real.) Oh, fuck, right. Dillon Francis (in the next dimension over) Is. Uh, Personal Space. Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" Telepathy wasn't invented at all. Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. This has been previously established. I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp so we can have this conversation--which, by the way I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, previously...established… So what's the other half of thAt...was it even an album. Is it an EP? Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ, I mean I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know--where the actual DJs...DJ. behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. ...k… Which you're not. Oh, I'm not. No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. Not a DJ. Not a DJ. Right. Not a DJ...with Magic. Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. Okay. Not-- Dillon Francis: Not ever-- Oh right, not ever both: a DJ. Dillon Francis: I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. Supa: BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. Dillon Francis: I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. Supa: So many fans. Dillon Francis: and albums. Like, tracks. Supa: Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DIllon Francis: DJ Dillon Francis Supa: Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. Dillon Francis: but you're my best fan. Supa: Best Fan! Dillon Francis: BEST FAN. SUPA: YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS: FAN CAM! SUPA ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON: THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SUPA: YEAH. (posing for a selfie. she spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo Dimitri: ...magic…? Supa: uh--no! magic, the music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah Dimitri: trash...brand...bags... Supa: ...yeah (At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--Supa readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing dimitri by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) Now, business talk time. Dimitri: serious face? Dimitri tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses. Nice Dinghy, dude. It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. She's the star of the show. Not without me. I'm it. Nah, you're just Skrillex. That's--all you need. Humility. You need it. I made the HUMBLE remix. We all know you're her favorite--and we all know she needs it. And everything age writes I lead it She lets you do that? You bought it. It wasn't me. You know what? What? I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of Everliving Skrillex is, I'll wait. My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. My left sock was 69.99 this morning. Why are you buying individual socks--and why are you buying socks in the mornings? You're up late, how are you even up in the morning? Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all. Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniaature yacht! Youre a miniature yacht. You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really. Youre just...Dillon Francis. And you're just stranded in the ocean. And you're still just Dillon Francis. I'm ok. It's refreshing. Unlike (Fresh up out the wata __________ Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. Suhweeet planet… No! Don't land on that planet! He lands . God DAMMIT. I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time I gave is spacetime! I am time! I know you are, dear. Just be patient. Be patient? I claimed it! And the. He went and put his DILLON FRANSIS all over it. Let Dillon Francis play with your planet yeah? What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. I do know how it goes. I wrote it. How does it go? It goes--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. No planet for Dillon Francis this isn't Dillon Francis Land, its closed. and also not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. That had a lot of heart, hun. And no Dillon Francis. Actually, it had a lot of that, too. Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not that, once I knock the not-that-hotsauce off his mini yacht knocking sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ Hey. This is a nice planet. He's gonna be like-- Like flabbergasted. Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? Yeah. Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars)] $-FREE MCFURY. ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! Cut back: Hehehe. The Skrillex Enters The Atmosphere. 'I AM SKRILLEX' _________ Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds. Three Cities Three Mainstages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! group dancing to solja boy (youuuuuuuu) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually. He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, the ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of conciousness. She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of conciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue) The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner. Guys. The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ...Shhht, quiet... The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion SupaCree shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" Guys. As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. Chak Chel (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it Chak Chel: Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time (tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Expect here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision DECISION BY WHO? They fall quiet. WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed body? What genetic catastrophy allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE? WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS, ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... The Gods all react in suprise and horror, ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and it's inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) bedside ensemble in a shielded field; SupaCree senses the energy field, Which she walks into. She has awakened her conciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- (The origins) Once we send her back, she will have been three times ressurected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumeous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as fortold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkess-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosized personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SupaCree through the window. Telepathically, her very loud and dissaproving She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of the light fir quite sometime now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocraxy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darnesss, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepards and priest in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of the source light in the loss of Love, the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality, Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SupaCree appears behind him in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. "Exactly, actually--actually," SupaCree appears, Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! Time? What the fuck is time? Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- Explain it when? When you have time? He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans, I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint " Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective conciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technolocally-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of conciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infintely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting eachother in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculius lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. In rick and morty's universe: Ohhh, oh shit rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? Uhhh--Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. Oh, you mean Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… --You said "monkey" twice-- ...Space Wars… I don't know, morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, t got, uh, it got pretty deep. Flashback: Dillon Pickle Francis/ pickle rick Flashback: Hellavator Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating rick and morty/justin roiland from existence in entirety. ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from run ricky run) as it's main character. What the-- Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. --who, what? H-h-holdon-- Morty, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to it's original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. DUEL! Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! This is just, brutal-- That was just a highlight real. The boss fight is live. Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! Hanzel and Gretl are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immidiately transport attendees into the Collesium, where a furious Sonny/Skrillex and a rage-fueled SŪP∆ have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating worm holes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Raveweaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Collesium at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage Unassumingly, strolling along stage right Skrillex sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entorage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popcicles, and cupcakes...supaclassy. Dillon Francis lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omnj-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imiginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after) SŪP∆ after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She preforms various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. (MIND. BLOWN.) throughout the dimensions: AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* Dillon, from center Sees SŪP∆ seeing Skrillex, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confusious.) She's mad. Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see Skrillex seeing SŪP∆, squinting Skrillexy. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. OH GOD, NO! He morphs into Dillon glances/flances, (3) (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th Dillon Glances: I can't. Dillon Francis: You CAN. Glances: I can't. I'm not a DJ. Dillon Francis: Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. glances: Jesus. Dillon Francis: DO IT. they run off in three seperate directions: Dillon Francis runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place... Dillon Flances runs into the festivals huge and quickly growingega-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exciting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. Dillon Glances, who is not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort,( by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") , eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.)--posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks Skrillex and SŪP∆ charge towards eachother furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to eachother, radiating in fury and anger, they explode at eachother. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simoltaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. Skrillex: Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? Dillon Francis: *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS? Bampheramphs: From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars. Dillon Francis? Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ Rich As Fuck: Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. Dillon Francis: Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? Dillon Francis: Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, Dillon vanishes. What the-- BOTH: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) what are you doing here? Dillon: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? Skrillex: Why? Dillon Francis: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't WHAT Dillon Francis, blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? Giggatwats? Gooodddamn. (God is going mad from all the goddamnes goddamns, the Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.) Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. Rave… Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? Pasqualle: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. Coming in from other room. Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt thier heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simoltaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! He knows what it is; He know what it is— I know what it is; We know what it is, “So it is, then” Woah Move>< bun up the dance What happened to your blacklist Fuck the blacklist YES except Diplo, he stays. DIPLO what. Alright, moving on. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ Before the initial collision... Exited for EDC? Are you serious? Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Dillon Francis? Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. Why not? This guy is awesome. *Rolls eyes* since when do you listen to EDM? I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. (She watches the video where Dillon Francis plays a backyard party) Huh. ________________ Dillon Francis arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he i ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him asking "Who the fuck is that?" Well that's because the answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Exactly. Oh, please. The Great Saltair, Salt Lake City, Utah SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted. Yikes. She looks down at her [watch/early version of the synesthesia panel] it is 7:35. Annnnnd--the night is young… She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs: She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. Dimitri: Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. Supa: Every day is rave day. Dimitri: I wish. Supa: it is. And wishes come true. Dimitri: Ugh, I wish. Supa: Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. Dimitri: Think so? Supa: Know so. Like--know-know...so...don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just…be...specific. *He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance* ...like super specific. Dimitri: ...Specific…Wishes… Supa: Rollin'? Dimitri: *he nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat house coming from the mainstage* Supa: just kicked in? Dimitri: shaking head in agreement Yuh. Supa: Water? (She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immidiately) Dimitri: (he takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front oh him, but his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up yo see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up. Supa: spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. Dimitri: ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! He happily the DJ loops the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown S Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as Dimitri 'checks' himself, unaware of Supa's Powers. Supa: Trash. He enters his trash, after which supa immidiately collapses, as it vanishes. Dimitri: ...what was...what was that. Supa: that...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. (magic isnt real.) Oh, fuck, right. Dillon Francis (in the next dimension over) Is. Uh, Personal Space. Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" Telepathy wasn't invented at all. Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. This has been previously established. I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp so we can have this conversation--which, by the way I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, previously...established… So what's the other half of thAt...was it even an album. Is it an EP? Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ, I mean I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know--where the actual DJs...DJ. behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. ...k… Which you're not. Oh, I'm not. No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. Not a DJ. Not a DJ. Right. Not a DJ...with Magic. Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. Okay. Not-- Dillon Francis: Not ever-- Oh right, not ever both: a DJ. Dillon Francis: I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. Supa: BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. Dillon Francis: I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. Supa: So many fans. Dillon Francis: and albums. Like, tracks. Supa: Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DIllon Francis: DJ Dillon Francis Supa: Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. Dillon Francis: but you're my best fan. Supa: Best Fan! Dillon Francis: BEST FAN. SUPA: YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS: FAN CAM! SUPA ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON: THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SUPA: YEAH. (posing for a selfie. she spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo Dimitri: ...magic…? Supa: uh--no! magic, the music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah Dimitri: trash...brand...bags... Supa: ...yeah (At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--Supa readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing dimitri by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) Now, business talk time. Dimitri: serious face? Dimitri tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses. Nice Dinghy, dude. It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. She's the star of the show. Not without me. I'm it. Nah, you're just Skrillex. That's--all you need. Humility. You need it. I made the HUMBLE remix. We all know you're her favorite--and we all know she needs it. And everything age writes I lead it She lets you do that? You bought it. It wasn't me. You know what? What? I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of Everliving Skrillex is, I'll wait. My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. My left sock was 69.99 this morning. Why are you buying individual socks--and why are you buying socks in the mornings? You're up late, how are you even up in the morning? Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all. Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniaature yacht! Youre a miniature yacht. You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really. Youre just...Dillon Francis. And you're just stranded in the ocean. And you're still just Dillon Francis. I'm ok. It's refreshing. Unlike (Fresh up out the wata __________ Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. Suhweeet planet… No! Don't land on that planet! He lands . God DAMMIT. I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time I gave is spacetime! I am time! I know you are, dear. Just be patient. Be patient? I claimed it! And the. He went and put his DILLON FRANSIS all over it. Let Dillon Francis play with your planet yeah? What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. I do know how it goes. I wrote it. How does it go? It goes--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. No planet for Dillon Francis this isn't Dillon Francis Land, its closed. and also not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. That had a lot of heart, hun. And no Dillon Francis. Actually, it had a lot of that, too. Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not that, once I knock the not-that-hotsauce off his mini yacht knocking sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ Hey. This is a nice planet. He's gonna be like-- Like flabbergasted. Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? Yeah. Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars)] $-FREE MCFURY. ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! Cut back: Hehehe. The Skrillex Enters The Atmosphere. 'I AM SKRILLEX' _________ Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds. Three Cities Three Mainstages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! group dancing to solja boy (youuuuuuuu) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually. He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, the ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of conciousness. She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of conciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue) The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner. Guys. The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ...Shhht, quiet... The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion SupaCree shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" Guys. As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. Chak Chel (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it Chak Chel: Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time (tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Expect here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision DECISION BY WHO? They fall quiet. WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed body? What genetic catastrophy allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE? WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS, ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... The Gods all react in suprise and horror, ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and it's inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) bedside ensemble in a shielded field; SupaCree senses the energy field, Which she walks into. She has awakened her conciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- (The origins) Once we send her back, she will have been three times ressurected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumeous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as fortold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkess-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosized personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SupaCree through the window. Telepathically, her very loud and dissaproving She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of the light fir quite sometime now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocraxy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darnesss, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepards and priest in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of the source light in the loss of Love, the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality, Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SupaCree appears behind him in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. "Exactly, actually--actually," SupaCree appears, Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! Time? What the fuck is time? Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- Explain it when? When you have time? He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans, I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint " Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective conciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technolocally-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of conciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infintely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting eachother in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculius lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. In rick and morty's universe: Ohhh, oh shit rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? Uhhh--Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. Oh, you mean Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… --You said "monkey" twice-- ...Space Wars… I don't know, morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, t got, uh, it got pretty deep. Flashback: Dillon Pickle Francis/ pickle rick Flashback: Hellavator Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating rick and morty/justin roiland from existence in entirety. ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from run ricky run) as it's main character. What the-- Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. --who, what? H-h-holdon-- Morty, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to it's original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. DUEL! Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! This is just, brutal-- That was just a highlight real. The boss fight is live. Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! Hanzel and Gretl are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immidiately transport attendees into the Collesium, where a furious Sonny/Skrillex and a rage-fueled SŪP∆ have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating worm holes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Raveweaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Collesium at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage Unassumingly, strolling along stage right Skrillex sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entorage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popcicles, and cupcakes...supaclassy. Dillon Francis lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omnj-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imiginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after) SŪP∆ after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She preforms various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. (MIND. BLOWN.) throughout the dimensions: AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* Dillon, from center Sees SŪP∆ seeing Skrillex, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confusious.) She's mad. Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see Skrillex seeing SŪP∆, squinting Skrillexy. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. OH GOD, NO! He morphs into Dillon glances/flances, (3) (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th Dillon Glances: I can't. Dillon Francis: You CAN. Glances: I can't. I'm not a DJ. Dillon Francis: Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. glances: Jesus. Dillon Francis: DO IT. they run off in three seperate directions: Dillon Francis runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place... Dillon Flances runs into the festivals huge and quickly growingega-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exciting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. Dillon Glances, who is not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort,( by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") , eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.)--posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks Skrillex and SŪP∆ charge towards eachother furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to eachother, radiating in fury and anger, they explode at eachother. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simoltaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. Skrillex: Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? Dillon Francis: *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS? Bampheramphs: From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars. Dillon Francis? Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ Rich As Fuck: Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. Dillon Francis: Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? Dillon Francis: Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, Dillon vanishes. What the-- BOTH: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) what are you doing here? Dillon: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? Skrillex: Why? Dillon Francis: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't WHAT Dillon Francis, blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? Giggatwats? Gooodddamn. (God is going mad from all the goddamnes goddamns, the Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.) Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. Rave… Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? Pasqualle: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. Coming in from other room. Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt thier heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simoltaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! He knows what it is; He know what it is— I know what it is; We know what it is, “So it is, then” Woah Move>< bun up the dance What happened to your blacklist Fuck the blacklist YES except Diplo, he stays. DIPLO what. Alright, moving on. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ Before the initial collision... Exited for EDC? Are you serious? Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Dillon Francis? Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. Why not? This guy is awesome. *Rolls eyes* since when do you listen to EDM? I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. (She watches the video where Dillon Francis plays a backyard party) Huh. ________________ Dillon Francis arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he i ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him asking "Who the fuck is that?" Well that's because the answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Exactly. Oh, please. The Great Saltair, Salt Lake City, Utah SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted. Yikes. She looks down at her [watch/early version of the synesthesia panel] it is 7:35. Annnnnd--the night is young… She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs: She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. Dimitri: Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. Supa: Every day is rave day. Dimitri: I wish. Supa: it is. And wishes come true. Dimitri: Ugh, I wish. Supa: Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. Dimitri: Think so? Supa: Know so. Like--know-know...so...don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just…be...specific. *He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance* ...like super specific. Dimitri: ...Specific…Wishes… Supa: Rollin'? Dimitri: *he nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat house coming from the mainstage* Supa: just kicked in? Dimitri: shaking head in agreement Yuh. Supa: Water? (She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immidiately) Dimitri: (he takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front oh him, but his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up yo see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up. Supa: spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. Dimitri: ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! He happily the DJ loops the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown S Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as Dimitri 'checks' himself, unaware of Supa's Powers. Supa: Trash. He enters his trash, after which supa immidiately collapses, as it vanishes. Dimitri: ...what was...what was that. Supa: that...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. (magic isnt real.) Oh, fuck, right. Dillon Francis (in the next dimension over) Is. Uh, Personal Space. Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" Telepathy wasn't invented at all. Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. This has been previously established. I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp so we can have this conversation--which, by the way I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, previously...established… So what's the other half of thAt...was it even an album. Is it an EP? Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ, I mean I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know--where the actual DJs...DJ. behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. ...k… Which you're not. Oh, I'm not. No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. Not a DJ. Not a DJ. Right. Not a DJ...with Magic. Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. Okay. Not-- Dillon Francis: Not ever-- Oh right, not ever both: a DJ. Dillon Francis: I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. Supa: BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. Dillon Francis: I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. Supa: So many fans. Dillon Francis: and albums. Like, tracks. Supa: Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DIllon Francis: DJ Dillon Francis Supa: Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. Dillon Francis: but you're my best fan. Supa: Best Fan! Dillon Francis: BEST FAN. SUPA: YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS: FAN CAM! SUPA ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON: THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SUPA: YEAH. (posing for a selfie. she spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo Dimitri: ...magic…? Supa: uh--no! magic, the music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah Dimitri: trash...brand...bags... Supa: ...yeah (At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--Supa readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing dimitri by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) Now, business talk time. Dimitri: serious face? Dimitri tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses. Nice Dinghy, dude. It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. She's the star of the show. Not without me. I'm it. Nah, you're just Skrillex. That's--all you need. Humility. You need it. I made the HUMBLE remix. We all know you're her favorite--and we all know she needs it. And everything age writes I lead it She lets you do that? You bought it. It wasn't me. You know what? What? I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of Everliving Skrillex is, I'll wait. My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. My left sock was 69.99 this morning. Why are you buying individual socks--and why are you buying socks in the mornings? You're up late, how are you even up in the morning? Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all. Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniaature yacht! Youre a miniature yacht. You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really. Youre just...Dillon Francis. And you're just stranded in the ocean. And you're still just Dillon Francis. I'm ok. It's refreshing. Unlike (Fresh up out the wata __________ Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. Suhweeet planet… No! Don't land on that planet! He lands . God DAMMIT. I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time I gave is spacetime! I am time! I know you are, dear. Just be patient. Be patient? I claimed it! And the. He went and put his DILLON FRANSIS all over it. Let Dillon Francis play with your planet yeah? What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. I do know how it goes. I wrote it. How does it go? It goes--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. No planet for Dillon Francis this isn't Dillon Francis Land, its closed. and also not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. That had a lot of heart, hun. And no Dillon Francis. Actually, it had a lot of that, too. Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not that, once I knock the not-that-hotsauce off his mini yacht knocking sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ Hey. This is a nice planet. He's gonna be like-- Like flabbergasted. Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? Yeah. Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars)] $-FREE MCFURY. ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! Cut back: Hehehe. The Skrillex Enters The Atmosphere. 'I AM SKRILLEX' _________ Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds. Three Cities Three Mainstages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! group dancing to solja boy (youuuuuuuu) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually. He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, the ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of conciousness. She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of conciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue) The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner. Guys. The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ...Shhht, quiet... The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion SupaCree shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" Guys. As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. Chak Chel (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it Chak Chel: Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time (tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Expect here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really.

This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ Before the initial collision... Exited for EDC? Are you serious? Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Dillon Francis? Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. Why not? This guy is awesome. *Rolls eyes* since when do you listen to EDM? I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. (She watches the video where Dillon Francis plays a backyard party) Huh. ________________ Dillon Francis arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he i ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him asking "Who the fuck is that?" Well that's because the answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Exactly. Oh, please. The Great Saltair, Salt Lake City, Utah SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted. Yikes. She looks down at her [watch/early version of the synesthesia panel] it is 7:35. Annnnnd--the night is young… She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs: She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. Dimitri: Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. Supa: Every day is rave day. Dimitri: I wish. Supa: it is. And wishes come true. Dimitri: Ugh, I wish. Supa: Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. Dimitri: Think so? Supa: Know so. Like--know-know...so...don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just…be...specific. *He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance* ...like super specific. Dimitri: ...Specific…Wishes… Supa: Rollin'? Dimitri: *he nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat house coming from the mainstage* Supa: just kicked in? Dimitri: shaking head in agreement Yuh. Supa: Water? (She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immidiately) Dimitri: (he takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front oh him, but his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up yo see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up. Supa: spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. Dimitri: ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! He happily the DJ loops the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown S Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as Dimitri 'checks' himself, unaware of Supa's Powers. Supa: Trash. He enters his trash, after which supa immidiately collapses, as it vanishes. Dimitri: ...what was...what was that. Supa: that...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. (magic isnt real.) Oh, fuck, right. Dillon Francis (in the next dimension over) Is. Uh, Personal Space. Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" Telepathy wasn't invented at all. Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. This has been previously established. I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp so we can have this conversation--which, by the way I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, previously...established… So what's the other half of thAt...was it even an album. Is it an EP? Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ, I mean I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know--where the actual DJs...DJ. behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. ...k… Which you're not. Oh, I'm not. No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. Not a DJ. Not a DJ. Right. Not a DJ...with Magic. Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. Okay. Not-- Dillon Francis: Not ever-- Oh right, not ever both: a DJ. Dillon Francis: I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. Supa: BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. Dillon Francis: I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. Supa: So many fans. Dillon Francis: and albums. Like, tracks. Supa: Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DIllon Francis: DJ Dillon Francis Supa: Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. Dillon Francis: but you're my best fan. Supa: Best Fan! Dillon Francis: BEST FAN. SUPA: YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS: FAN CAM! SUPA ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON: THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SUPA: YEAH. (posing for a selfie. she spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo Dimitri: ...magic…? Supa: uh--no! magic, the music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah Dimitri: trash...brand...bags... Supa: ...yeah (At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--Supa readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing dimitri by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) Now, business talk time. Dimitri: serious face? Dimitri tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses. Nice Dinghy, dude. It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. She's the star of the show. Not without me. I'm it. Nah, you're just Skrillex. That's--all you need. Humility. You need it. I made the HUMBLE remix. We all know you're her favorite--and we all know she needs it. And everything age writes I lead it She lets you do that? You bought it. It wasn't me. You know what? What? I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of Everliving Skrillex is, I'll wait. My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. My left sock was 69.99 this morning. Why are you buying individual socks--and why are you buying socks in the mornings? You're up late, how are you even up in the morning? Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all. Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniaature yacht! Youre a miniature yacht. You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really. Youre just...Dillon Francis. And you're just stranded in the ocean. And you're still just Dillon Francis. I'm ok. It's refreshing. Unlike (Fresh up out the wata __________ Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. Suhweeet planet… No! Don't land on that planet! He lands . God DAMMIT. I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time I gave is spacetime! I am time! I know you are, dear. Just be patient. Be patient? I claimed it! And the. He went and put his DILLON FRANSIS all over it. Let Dillon Francis play with your planet yeah? What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. I do know how it goes. I wrote it. How does it go? It goes--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. No planet for Dillon Francis this isn't Dillon Francis Land, its closed. and also not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. That had a lot of heart, hun. And no Dillon Francis. Actually, it had a lot of that, too. Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not that, once I knock the not-that-hotsauce off his mini yacht knocking sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ Hey. This is a nice planet. He's gonna be like-- Like flabbergasted. Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? Yeah. Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars)] $-FREE MCFURY. ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! Cut back: Hehehe. The Skrillex Enters The Atmosphere. 'I AM SKRILLEX' _________ Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds. Three Cities Three Mainstages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! group dancing to solja boy (youuuuuuuu) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually. He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, the ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of conciousness. She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of conciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue) The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner. Guys. The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ...Shhht, quiet... The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion SupaCree shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" Guys. As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. Chak Chel (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it Chak Chel: Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time (tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Expect here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision DECISION BY WHO? They fall quiet. WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed body? What genetic catastrophy allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE? WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS, ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... The Gods all react in suprise and horror, ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and it's inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) bedside ensemble in a shielded field; SupaCree senses the energy field, Which she walks into. She has awakened her conciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- (The origins) Once we send her back, she will have been three times ressurected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumeous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as fortold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkess-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosized personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SupaCree through the window. Telepathically, her very loud and dissaproving She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of the light fir quite sometime now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocraxy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darnesss, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepards and priest in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of the source light in the loss of Love, the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality, Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SupaCree appears behind him in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. "Exactly, actually--actually," SupaCree appears, Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! Time? What the fuck is time? Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- Explain it when? When you have time? He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans, I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint " Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective conciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technolocally-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of conciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infintely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting eachother in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculius lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. In rick and morty's universe: Ohhh, oh shit rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? Uhhh--Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. Oh, you mean Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… --You said "monkey" twice-- ...Space Wars… I don't know, morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, t got, uh, it got pretty deep. Flashback: Dillon Pickle Francis/ pickle rick Flashback: Hellavator Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating rick and morty/justin roiland from existence in entirety. ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from run ricky run) as it's main character. What the-- Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. --who, what? H-h-holdon-- Morty, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to it's original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. DUEL! Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! This is just, brutal-- That was just a highlight real. The boss fight is live. Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! Hanzel and Gretl are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immidiately transport attendees into the Collesium, where a furious Sonny/Skrillex and a rage-fueled SŪP∆ have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating worm holes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Raveweaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Collesium at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage Unassumingly, strolling along stage right Skrillex sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entorage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popcicles, and cupcakes...supaclassy. Dillon Francis lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omnj-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imiginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after) SŪP∆ after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She preforms various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. (MIND. BLOWN.) throughout the dimensions: AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* Dillon, from center Sees SŪP∆ seeing Skrillex, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confusious.) She's mad. Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see Skrillex seeing SŪP∆, squinting Skrillexy. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. OH GOD, NO! He morphs into Dillon glances/flances, (3) (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th Dillon Glances: I can't. Dillon Francis: You CAN. Glances: I can't. I'm not a DJ. Dillon Francis: Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. glances: Jesus. Dillon Francis: DO IT. they run off in three seperate directions: Dillon Francis runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place... Dillon Flances runs into the festivals huge and quickly growingega-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exciting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. Dillon Glances, who is not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort,( by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") , eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.)--posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks Skrillex and SŪP∆ charge towards eachother furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to eachother, radiating in fury and anger, they explode at eachother. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simoltaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. Skrillex: Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? Dillon Francis: *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS? Bampheramphs: From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars. Dillon Francis? Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ Rich As Fuck: Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. Dillon Francis: Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? Dillon Francis: Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, Dillon vanishes. What the-- BOTH: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) what are you doing here? Dillon: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? Skrillex: Why? Dillon Francis: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't WHAT Dillon Francis, blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? Giggatwats? Gooodddamn. (God is going mad from all the goddamnes goddamns, the Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.) Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. Rave… Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? Pasqualle: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. Coming in from other room. Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt thier heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simoltaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! He knows what it is; He know what it is— I know what it is; We know what it is, “So it is, then” Woah Move>< bun up the dance What happened to your blacklist Fuck the blacklist YES except Diplo, he stays. DIPLO what. Alright, moving on. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2022 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -This--soul. Yes? It is...of light? It is. And? (A concept unbeknownst the the dark and evil underlords of Satan's realm, which has expanded far beyond hell, into the upper reaches of our world, consuming in darkness everything it can.) Something else… What? Something powerful. It is...beyond words. How? That is, yet to be understood. Mmm… ________________ Before the initial collision... Exited for EDC? Are you serious? Is Dillon Francis going to be there? Dillon Francis? Yeah. DJ Dillon Francis. Uh. I don't know. And I don't care. Why not? This guy is awesome. *Rolls eyes* since when do you listen to EDM? I don't. Just Dillon Francis. He's fuckin hilarious. Look at this. (She watches the video where Dillon Francis plays a backyard party) Huh. ________________ Dillon Francis arrives through a portal onto Venice beach, just moments before SUPACREE arrives; Where he i ‘kidnapped' into an Egyptian crystal shop. What the FUCK! Dillon Francis isn't the answer to anything, even if someone is pointing at him asking "Who the fuck is that?" Well that's because the answer is "DJ Dillon Francis" Exactly. Oh, please. The Great Saltair, Salt Lake City, Utah SŪP∆ is on the lineup; she prepares for her set. She lurks down into the dancefloor, hiding in the risers, looking over the crowd to read the room. As she peers into the corner nearest to the bar, she suddenly stops, tipping down the rims of her glasses and squinting sternly, scanning over the large group...she intensely scopes a tall, and lanky brunette hunched drunkenly in the corner, one sleeve of her I'll fitting oversized jacket hanging off her shoulder unevenly. Even from afar, she looks tequila toasted. Yikes. She looks down at her [watch/early version of the synesthesia panel] it is 7:35. Annnnnd--the night is young… She peers once more into the corner, to see the girl stumbling towards the restroom sloppily, hunched shoulders and struggling to keep her oversized jacket "on", over her high waisted shorts, accompanied by black fishnets and babydoll crop top, stomping in her stupor towards the restroom. She thinks for a moment, then exits downstairs intently. Downstairs: She is greeted by one of the stagehands. They PLUR and hug. Dimitri: Heeeeey. Happy Rave Dayyy. Supa: Every day is rave day. Dimitri: I wish. Supa: it is. And wishes come true. Dimitri: Ugh, I wish. Supa: Don't waste a wish on a wish. They all come true. Dimitri: Think so? Supa: Know so. Like--know-know...so...don't wish for stupid shit; you don't know how many wishes you actually get, so just…be...specific. *He is starry eyed, gazing at her in a dreamlike trance* ...like super specific. Dimitri: ...Specific…Wishes… Supa: Rollin'? Dimitri: *he nods happily, bouncing to the upbeat house coming from the mainstage* Supa: just kicked in? Dimitri: shaking head in agreement Yuh. Supa: Water? (She produces a bottled water out of "nowhere" (the void in her energy field which manifests items most needed/useful immidiately) Dimitri: (he takes the water, amazed that she literally pulled it out of nowhere right in front oh him, but his Befuddled expression suggests curiosity that he is "tripping", which he quickly shrugs off, still bouncing happily to the music as he takes a drink (nearly the entire bottle), giving him life. (As he catches his breath, he looks up yo see a tricolor of gumstucks fanned before him, his eyes light up. Supa: spearmint, peppermint, winter fresh. Dimitri: ...ohhhh shittttt, winter fresh…! He happily the DJ loops the word "fresh", and they share a dance breakdown S Dimitri finishes his water and starts on his stick of gum. She produces a trash bag out of thin air, gesturing vanna white style, again as Dimitri 'checks' himself, unaware of Supa's Powers. Supa: Trash. He enters his trash, after which supa immidiately collapses, as it vanishes. Dimitri: ...what was...what was that. Supa: that...was...trash...magic…bags…brand...bags. (magic isnt real.) Oh, fuck, right. Dillon Francis (in the next dimension over) Is. Uh, Personal Space. Telepathy wasn't invented for "personal space" Telepathy wasn't invented at all. Exactly. It's--Magic. Hence. This has been previously established. I'm reinforcing the foundations...established...previously. Uh, Don't you have half an album to finish? Uh, Don't you have a rave frozen in an unstable time warp so we can have this conversation--which, by the way I'm pretty sure does not comply with aforementioned...reinforced foundations, previously...established… So what's the other half of thAt...was it even an album. Is it an EP? Nice view from the dancefloor, by the way, Jeez--JEEZ, I mean I guess once you get used to the view from the stage, behind--you know--where the actual DJs...DJ. behind the decks. In the DJ booth. For the DJ. ...k… Which you're not. Oh, I'm not. No. You're just...Dillusionally, probably permanently and terminally...not a DJ. Not a DJ. Not a DJ. Right. Not a DJ...with Magic. Maybe, mildly, weirdly magic--definitely not a DJ. Ever. Okay. Not-- Dillon Francis: Not ever-- Oh right, not ever both: a DJ. Dillon Francis: I'm glad you finally understand. We so, so appreciate the FANS, though. Supa: BIG fan. BIG Dillon Francis fan. Dillon Francis: I know. I have…I'm telepathic. I'm also a DJ. Like, a real DJ. With...fans. AND albums. Supa: So many fans. Dillon Francis: and albums. Like, tracks. Supa: Right. Tracks. Got That Track Magic. I just got that, fan magic. And you know, actual magic. Thanks Dillon Francis-- DIllon Francis: DJ Dillon Francis Supa: Right. DJ Dillon Francis. So many fans. Dillon Francis: but you're my best fan. Supa: Best Fan! Dillon Francis: BEST FAN. SUPA: YEAH. DILLON FRANCIS: FAN CAM! SUPA ONE FOR THE FAN GRAM! DILLON: THE *BEST* FAN GRAM. SUPA: YEAH. (posing for a selfie. she spitefully flashes him into a cross parallel dimension, outside of Bampheramph jurisdiction, trapping him in an intractable dimension; the photo Dimitri: ...magic…? Supa: uh--no! magic, the music is magic, Just trash bags...brand...yeah Dimitri: trash...brand...bags... Supa: ...yeah (At the end of the break, an immediate change of tone--Supa readjusts her outfit and hair, collecting herself in a snap--grabbing dimitri by his shoulder and pulling him closer, crouching lower into a "gameplay" position.) Now, business talk time. Dimitri: serious face? Dimitri tries to straighten up, and "get serious, still bouncing along to the beat, adjusting his sunglasses. Nice Dinghy, dude. It's...not a dinghy. It's a miniature yacht, and you're talking a lot, for someone that's more of a prop, than the dialogue. Prop. Plot device. Main character. Oh shit dude--I might even star of the show. She's the star of the show. Not without me. I'm it. Nah, you're just Skrillex. That's--all you need. Humility. You need it. I made the HUMBLE remix. We all know you're her favorite--and we all know she needs it. And everything age writes I lead it She lets you do that? You bought it. It wasn't me. You know what? What? I don't think it's good for you, If you do this movie. Movies. It's like a series. Or a saga, oh--god, I don't know. Yeah. She is. Like a God, and you're not, man. So you know...I mean… Actually heh. First of all, you tell me what the price of Everliving Skrillex is, I'll wait. My pants are currently selling for 69.99 right now. My left sock was 69.99 this morning. Why are you buying individual socks--and why are you buying socks in the mornings? You're up late, how are you even up in the morning? Do you ever sleep? Does a Skrillex sleep? Does a Dillon Francis DJ? Or wear proper fitting pants? Or do anything? Anything cool at all. Yeah actually--I pushed Skrillex off my miniaature yacht! Youre a miniature yacht. You're not a good villain. Or at anything, really. Youre just...Dillon Francis. And you're just stranded in the ocean. And you're still just Dillon Francis. I'm ok. It's refreshing. Unlike (Fresh up out the wata __________ Get off my Alien Planet! Don't touch it! It's my alien planet, nobody land on it. Suhweeet planet… No! Don't land on that planet! He lands . God DAMMIT. I can't do that. You know I can't do that. It's a whole planet just--give it time I gave is spacetime! I am time! I know you are, dear. Just be patient. Be patient? I claimed it! And the. He went and put his DILLON FRANSIS all over it. Let Dillon Francis play with your planet yeah? What?? No, can't have it, it's my planet. No. But he already put his Dillon on it, you know how that goes. I do know how it goes. I wrote it. How does it go? It goes--No--No--Dillon Francis, go home. No planet for Dillon Francis this isn't Dillon Francis Land, its closed. and also not. Your. Planet. Go. Home. That had a lot of heart, hun. And no Dillon Francis. Actually, it had a lot of that, too. Aha, well it's about to have a lot of not that, once I knock the not-that-hotsauce off his mini yacht knocking sock-rocking-planet-blocking-motherfacker!!!! RAAGGHHH…!! Whew. Did you just eat a McFury? MAYBEITWASAFUCKISDILLONFRANCISDOINGONMYPLANETSANWHICH. sounds like a lot. / Sounds Like A Mouthful. It wasn't. Ever. Never. / It's not. (Alternately) _______ Hey. This is a nice planet. He's gonna be like-- Like flabbergasted. Past Flabbergasted. Did he see you land? Yeah. Good. Lol. Did he get the coupon? --Yes. (Previously) [Dillon Lurks In The Background with the SupaCreepers (binoculars)] $-FREE MCFURY. ...oh, shit. Mm! Yeah-yeah! Cut back: Hehehe. The Skrillex Enters The Atmosphere. 'I AM SKRILLEX' _________ Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds. Three Cities Three Mainstages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! group dancing to solja boy (youuuuuuuu) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually. He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, the ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of conciousness. She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of conciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue) The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner. Guys. The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ...Shhht, quiet... The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion SupaCree shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" Guys. As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. Chak Chel (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it Chak Chel: Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time (tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Expect here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really.

Dizzy and Blink finally gain access to Geneticorp systems. Everyone gets an opportunity to talk about their feelings during an excruciatingly long elevator ride.

Hi Friends, The Wilsons have sent their little cherubs back to school, none too soon. Amanda is a TikTok Star, Josh hates quizzes, and we still know nothing about Days of Thunder.Cheers! "Planty's Hellevator", "Take Us to The Bridge", and "Wilson Suite"  by Josh Wilson. "Spawn from the Power Line" (Game Time Theme) by Andrew Wilson - Find him at electricsheap.bandcamp.com/music or search "AJCW" on iTunes, Spotify, and other music sources.  Super Familiar with The Wilsons  Find us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/wilsonspodcast on instagram at instagram.com/superfamiliarwitthewilsonson twitter at https://twitter.com/familiarwilsonsand on YoutubeContact us! familiarwilsons@gmail.com

Omg Beyonce's cute dimples. Right?! Stop fangirling. …no. THEY ARE CUTE. Bitch, shut up. BEYONCÈ is alone on an elevator—more specifically, THE HELLEVATOR; when it breaks down suddenly. Why is Beyoncè alone? I don't know… Seems dangerous. It does, doesn't it. Everybody needs alone time. I heard that. How do you get alone time when you're Beyoncè? Aha. You don't. [Beyoncè being followed by paparazzi] [Beyoncè being mom] [Beyoncè being Beyoncè] Oh, hey Beyoncè. [very serious stare] What you need? Some alone time. [Laughing in infinite dimensions] Are you done? Are you Beyoncè? Though I found it to be strange, I actually did still have a soul, somewhere, seared deeply in the confines of my body, which sometimes I found to be hideous and others to be beautiful— not that it would depend on the day, but rather my state of being, I would have considered it a state of mind, but there was something else at play. Now I hadn't been into the gym in 24 or so hours, and I was still happily getting along with myself to know that I needed a break from Las Vegas Athletic Club—at the very least the North location, which was the closest and the only one I would be finding myself making the trip to at all, although I now had a bicycle and a bus pass to go with it, which made things so much easier than it was before—I was still being drained of my energy from various sources, here-and-there—but especially from Jessie, who at times seemed like a vampire, and even though I had started to understand this reflection of myself and her purpose, I still hated it; nothing was mine, and everything that was seemed to be falling apart, and though I had more than I needed and was actually genuinely grateful, I would have never been willing to admit it—mostly because for the most part, I was still incredibly homeless, mostly—and even working away ⅔ of my day no matter how beneficial the job had become to me, was wearing me down into nothing but the tradegy of a corporate slave; this job certainly wasn't going to get me the money I needed to repay all of my debts, or a chance at a sane life—my ex husband had stolen everything from me that made me feel even the slightest bit human or whole, and I wondered, in all this loveless, careless, homeless neglect—if that was it for me; if I was meant to have stayed with the person who consistently belittled me, cheated, lied, and stole from me—and though he was never willing to admit it, knowing he could have been being recorded at any time, became violent enough to have altered my entire headspace (not that it hadn't been crumbling,) but more than likely wouldn't have shattered entirely and so suddenly without having been punched in the face, choked, or strangled. But I must have somehow deserved all of it. It was a strange world, but not a strange day; I hadn't worked out, but things seemed normal and not as robotic as they had been, usually—and though I knew there was in part a certain structural programming at play—Jessie's childish ability to flaunt her spoiled laziness about, as if she knew she both didn't and never would need to work, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, I was a literal slave; I hadn't felt guilty about writing about her from literally under her nose for quite some time; I was a fully-unapproachable, untrustworthy asshole now, and I did it to everyone, often jotting down everything I could see in my experience that was noteworthy or captivating—more or less the entirety of my human experience, which at times felt less and less human with each passing day, and more and more surreal; not only did I not believe in myself to yet be alive, the looming sense of purposeless as a heavy cloud on my shoulders at all time, knowing one day, maybe even soon, I would finally wake up, knowing all of this to have just been an excessive fairytale—a nightmare of cosmic potions, where misogynistic men and other wrongdoers ran the world, where the ugly and poor remained slaves, and where the unjust nature of inequality had become a normalcy, amongst everyone in this existence, surely a lower realm of such—it wasn't possible at all that this dream, or nightmare, would be anything a proper God would have imagined—not one worthy of worship, anyway. It was the American dream turned American nightmare—rich people living in excess with not a care in the world, and even those not having aquired a desirable amount of wealth, still living in privilege and filth, as I had observed in all my homelessness; everyone who had welcomed me into their home seemed incapable of taking care of it—which I found to be nearly unforgivable; how could one have something as precious as a home and leave it in ruins, letting trash and such excessive materials pile up into corners with the dust and the grime that was so simple to get rid of?! There was a clearer, deeper lesson at play here; though some had lived in literal shacks, they had been kept explicitly clean—and though during my childhood the discomfort of visiting anywhere less than middle class had given me an itch of discomfort, most of the households I did visit were also kept immaculate, save for those who had become addicts of something…and maybe that was the focal point of it all— that almost every American was addicted to something, and had to use another something in order to supplement for whatever the first addiction caused déficit to; I didn't care anymore really, and was willing to work, obviously for pennies on the millions of billions of dollars all of these corporations were scooping up—and though I just as stupidly as anyone else had spent a mentionable portion of my tiny paycheck on music, which I didn't technically need, but it kept me sane—and I was willing enough to keep my delusional dreams of becoming a DJ on hold, just to have a home, or a hole of my own that I could crawl into when I wasn't working for someone else, or working out the poison I had put into my body just to cope with being the kind of human that hadn't yet been lucky enough to be loved, or liked, or cared for and hadn't been lied to, despised, and betrayed in the same breath and by the same people that did once claim to love. ——- The new Beyoncé album made me upset in a depressing kind of way; I wasn't black enough for it, to begin with, or at least wouldn't let myself be—it wasn't made for me, or maybe it was—but I was struggling with self and doubted any supposed greatness, probably more than ever needing to get away from Jessie and her sadly-something family—I didn't have a word for it, and since white people hated more than anything being called out for their privelege and racism, was straying away from even being able to write about it; I knew I wanted to be somewhere or anywhere in the middle of the obviously apparent race war—but there was no middle, just black-or-white— and I was neither. It sounded something like Skrillex had worked on it, or Sonny, or whoever the fuck he was—and in fact, I was almost certain he had, that I had strayed from the blockbuster romance that was supposed to have resulted from whatever out of bounds otherworldly shit had happened, and that the Dillon Francis I had romanticized was more than likely the Dillon Francis that probably belonged to whatever “organization” my ex had claimed he did— the organization that was more “willing to kill me and bury me in the woods where no one would find me”, than ever put me on or give me any worthwhile status; but how else could he—Dillon Francis—have known my deepest and darkest secret? I figured mY ex husband must have told them— whoever they were—everything. One Somethings wrong with me; Mums the word Don't look at me, you my son, I am the one you want. BIG FREEDA and BEYONCE are stealing souls with their new hit dance song, aiding JESUS CHRIST in the fight against evil. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. By the millions, members of Beyonce's massive fandoms release a number of things; Including their jobs, their vibes, and their souls– all of which, luckily, end up in the right hands. BEYONCE has lent SUPACREE her soul. Don't break it. I would never. However, BEYONCE'S soul i incredibly fragile, and after a series of near-breaks, SUPACREE has decided the only way to keep it safe, is within her own soul; which has been encapsulated in an unbreakable vault by the use of magical cosmic forces yet unseen, but soon to be unmasked. Key: villed grey And everybody's miserable, And everybody's miserable, And everybody's got just cause— But it doesn't make a difference, does it? It didn't, and it never did And never will When will we believe in Anything, again— That we did as children, Or kids? I've never hated myself or Debated suicide more often, Than I have now, at least for awhile Or a minute, Whichever's of lesser or greater value Get it? I'm in remission, but Living is cancer And dying is the only thing that cures it I hate being human It's a curse It's a cause It's a movement I can't move Into the future without you But I guess I'll have to And I'll just keep on writing Songs about you Song about you Songs about you— Sounds about right, But it does t seem right at all Without you Without you Without you Without you How about now? Am I powerful enough to fight you? That's right I left right on time Just to spite you I am sad today But I have t had sunlight, And I haven't had a bike ride But I needed rest, see I almost died I've got no light on the front And reflectors don't work unless Someone close to you has lights on, I found out Wow Everything my mom said makes sense now I get how It's dangerous to ride your bike when it's dark out And there are dark clouds overhead But somehow I made it And I get Sorry, am I in your way? I can reach over you… It's me. I know it's you. You fuckin' dick. Let me explain. I heard Beyoncé's new album. That wasn't me… So you're trying to tell me you're everyone in the world but Beyoncé. …yes! Whatever. Listen to me. I'll do anything but that. I have a plan. I don't care. Yes you do. You don't know me. You don't know me! Shut up, Mrs. Pancakes and listen to what I have to say. Unless what you have to say is, “I'm sorry— “ I am sorry! —I don't wanna hear it. I said I'm sorry. I said I don't wanna hear it. Cool. Fucking cool. If it was a 7-year curse, I had 4 years down and still nothing to show for it but literal blood, sweat, and tears— there was no joy in anything except for food, which kept me in the gym and trying my best to stay in shape—and I was fit, but not petite, like Kayla Lauren; all the finest men wanted child-shaped women, or at the very best so petite that anything could do, and I could do nothing but sulk in my self-hatred. But perhaps I had spent too much time around Jessie, who for exactly 3 days had tried to mimic my neat and tidiness by cleaning up after herself, only to go back to the laziness and chaos that I had begun to get used to; however, realizing I had become quite the parasite, often exchanging the energy I was losing for other valuables I myself wouldn't purchase without having my own space; laundry and dish detergent, shampoo and conditioner, and the entirety of the spice rack—which I did feel tinges of guilt about, but nonetheless, an automatic housekeeper, justified using such things by having to take after the laziness around me, which drained my energy entirely—and promising to replace them when I could, though undoubtedly only feeling as if it was okay because of the apparent over-abundance, and my own shortcomings. I didn't want to go back to Mexico, really, but probably would—the United States was too expensive, but I had gotten used to the luxuries and without a thought didn't really want to return where everything was broken down and dirty—and, where I was expected to pay more being “rich” because I could earn more by going back “home”, however, without a true home to go to, it was only a waste of time and energy to even be back; at least I could gym, and I did in part have Kayla Lauren, or at least the whole of white supremacy to thank for that—the fact that she and girls alike were automatically just ‘better' and had more advantages for being more fuckable pissed me off to the point that gym time had become part of my daily regimen; though, surrounded by petite-bodied fredcked faces did nothing for my own confidence or self worth—I still had Sonny always in the forefront of my mind, and somehow somewhere someone had figured him as my ideal enough to make this all happen; now all I wanted to be was 108 pounds and petite, knowing at that exact measurement anyone who wasn't really a racist would want me—and know knowing I wanted more than to be wanted, but to be needed. My dreams were seeping Into reality and blending with astral projections of the past, whatever that was; I had been gladly visited by my dead son and however traumatizing that was, I had at least seen him, healthy and tall, 7 years old as he would have been at the time—and of course, taunted in the dream world as always being there, but not—in another room, in another place—aware of him but not with him, always thinking about him but not there, as I had truly been. It didn't matter that the universe or whatever evil was in it was haunting me with my motherhood—I had actually tried to keep my marriage intact, and I knew it in my heart and soul, or whatever stardust was left of their remains respectively, that I had done no wrong. It was a damned-if-i-did and damned-If I didn't situation; there was no remedy for whatever had taken place but to forget with time. Jessie's house really was depressing, and I feared for her that she would never actually leave it, however spoiled she was. It had to have been a rampant sickness, her father, a slave driver who used his ex wife and daughter as laborers for his business, and while keeping them well fed, not paid well enough to actually go into the world and succeed; he was just as evil as any other corporation or business, and just as powerful; using his Christianity as a guard against being considered truly harmful—and his graciousness of allowing me into his home was at the very most a kindness I couldn't look past, trying not to judge but understanding over and over again how one can fail to use a trash can; he wasn't in a rush; in fact, he spent his days watching Evangelists talk about the coming apocalypse, while his ex wife and daughter toiled away making fishing lures for his business, apparently very profitable. For something I admired him—perhaps his musicianship, or perhaps just my strange and undying affection for Caucasian alpha males, or even that he did have such a power as to keep his ex wife and daughter underfoot, when my own ex husband had moved to physically subduing me as his only means of control, later keeping my son from me as the ultimate power play——and of course, throwing in the Dillon Francis monkey wrench, a true nod to whatever Satanic backwards magic was previously thought to be at play. Now i understood it just to be my mind unraveling—the only person I had ever truly loved, had never truly loved me; however, i was useful and sweet—besides being ramapantly obese, the perfect wife and caretaker. Now, I was preparing for a steady non-existence, loneliness, lifelessness, friendlessness, and homelessness; and I thought myself soon to be dead again, in one way or another. All I wanted was home, and home was said to be where the heart was—but thinking back to a tragic time, I had foolishly given mine to Dillon Francis, in pieces, after Sonny Moore had used Kayla Lauren to break it. How many women were in line to see The Great Sonny Moore, on the same ride I had been on, and with the same deal signed-sealed-and delivered to The Devil Himself, if not the messengers at the pearly gates for God's eyes and ears only? I had to think the number to be in the hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions—as I had finally founded the integral magical practice of hypnotism through music, as it had been for eons and centuries—and now, as programmed as I was neither happy nor unhappy to be, having lost all but the body, devoid of feelings or true sense of livelihood at all, even having misplaced the ability to be music at all—I was just a thing in a world full of other things—neither woman nor man, nor any feeling thing at all; most American dogs were more loved and well cared for than I was. My obsessive brain allowed for infatuation beyond my wildest content, and though either self-control or self-pity kept anyone at a safe and proper distance, I still craved something or someone that wholly didn't exist. My head was on a platter, eyes still blinking and mouth agape, though without the life force I had once garnered and cherished to have been brought about into time with merely the mind, and the mind alone. Jessie was a petite virgin who was so moldeable it was hard to see myself as anything but less-than beside her, and on two opposite ends of the spectrum of inequality we existed; she would never have to work, or leave home, or lift a finger—almost any man would be willing to take care of her without her having to do much, and, as historically proven, any man would look past her ridiculous laziness or an unideal facial structure in exchange for a hot body he could claim all his own, nonetheless for one who wouldn't bother to leave the house, who he could keep at home ready for use at will—and here I was, washed up without any of the fame of glory to accompany it, used and abused and put through the wash enough times to shrink, but not to remove the stains as had been set in stone since they were made. Nothing was right, but everything was good—practicing The Secret had to eventually have its effects. No matter how miserable I felt, I was always good, or great, or awesome—but still, daily, combating the consistent and ever-constant thoughts of back-to-back self hatred and loathing. I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my— I love myself… I love my life I love myself I love my life— Ugh. But I was sleeping on the floor below one of the laziest people I had ever met, who I loved dearly since the age of 12– but couldn't help but hate a little for not having to do anything, ever, and somehow knowing we were both complatent and self-assured that some wealthy man would undoubtedly swoop from out of nowhere to marry the forlorn virgin goddess— Ugh. She was an energy vampire. Meanwhile, my promotion to Manager, with bonus commission and all the overtime I was pulling in still wouldn't be enough to amount to affording my own apartment, and it seemed, as I had been warned before, that it was true—I would never be safe in my own home country of The United States of America, and the more and more angry white women I literally bumped and brushed shoulders with, receiving deathly stares and glances from blue and green eyes like something out of a dystopian race war nightmare, the more I realized that there was only so much unfairness and inequality that could take place before things had to change; Rich people were racing corgis—children were selling coffee in the streets; the National air guitar championship was underway— people were dying of hunger and thirst— Skrillex and Dillon Francis were superstar DJs—everyone had a Kayla Lauren or something similar to show off— And I was the overnight manager at a mega-gym. Fuck this life. I was probably supposed to hate myself, I was probably supposed to kill myself, too—but I was too afraid to do that again. It was all Ali and I talked about, for years—how this existence was merely a blemish in the ever-expanse of time and space; how we were bound to our earthly bodies as punishment for some Mistake we had made in an inmemorable past existence —probably murder or rape, or something horrible—our loveless, hopeless bodies bound to be forever unloved, unsuccessful, and overall unhappy. A burning cough lodged itself out of the depths of hell from the ugly fat woman in front of me—not that I was any different, really. It seemed and was apparently so that the ‘coughs' demon, as I had come to call it, inhabited the broken bodies of sick individuals, usually visibly weak in some way—typically obese or otherwise unhealthy, if I were willing to give the beast the time or day by looking, as I usually was able to ignore it, washing it out of my peripheral or continuing to look forward, or wherever I was looking. Assuredly, Sonny had surrounded himself by powerful demon-like practitioners of [the type of] magic I was unwilling to use or even acknowledge, though admittedly—this coughs demon to a certain extent had to have been more obessed with me than I had ever been with it, oftentimes lurking in places I felt most vulnerable, acting as a push into suicidal ideation and the other great realms of non-existence, my synesthesia acting like a painful ailment when such a nasty sound did rear it's ugly head. It had been four years living with this awful thing—no matter where I went, someone would make their way Into my personal space just to cough, or hack—and, though by now having grown mostly immune to it, I was still annoyed as ever when it came down to it—my sanity not breaking, but somehow pieced together using frail elements such as deadmau5 as duck tape; unbeknownst to me before doing so, anyway, it actually did properly seal the bullet like wounds in my being…call it universal healthcare, perhaps. I was the only one, really, who could make myself laugh anymore. It had become a game between God and I to see who could do it the most, and though most people seemed programmed and robotic or unreal entirely, there were few in the three dimensional realm occasionally that were human enough to make me forget that the rest of the world had been for the most part a dysfunctional computer—if I was lucky, I might have been having a heatstroke of some sort, as sometimes pedaling furiously on my bicycle, the entire world would in-fact smell like the innards of a windows 98 computer, having just overheated; I was a vegan, hadn't drank or even smoked in years—and now was fighting off a rampant sugar addiction with both hands tied behind my back, which was huge—and though still fitting into a Nike small, which might have been an achievement had I not figured there to be a size such as 2XS—the roundness of my backside couldn't outweigh the deathly amount of guilt and self pity even only the occasional Oreo brought on; I needed to be devastatingly thin for anything to make sense, and nothing really did (make sense, that is.) I was hungry, and angry with myself, and mad at the world; I couldn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve my life the way it was—the worst part, though, was there was no exit button. There was no easy way out; I knew that death was not the end, but just the departure from another realm—and that as infinite as love and life had been, death might have been, too. Preparing for the worst and never hoping for the best, for fear I would only gain the opposite, I wondered where I would go and what I would do next. Ali was making his presence in a greater realm more and more apparent with each passing moment; it was always 2:22, and every time it was—something cosmic happened. I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I'll be up all night (I'm up all night) Doing three things at once (I don't give a fuck) Every crunch is a coffin I don't do this often or much, But look forward to eating my lunch It's in the oven That's probably my cousin I don't give a fuck So what does it matter? Putter patter goes the blood spatter, Since you had to ask Spread my ashes at Madison Avenue Nobody asked, But I spat out the answer, Then finally laughed How about that Aha How about that I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I have too much to do, I can't be pretty, too (You used me) Pity the pitiful fool (But I let you) Write me a check So that I don't regret you Forever (Never say never) A bet is a bet; And I'll never get to see you sweat It's for the better It's for the better It's for the better For better or worse? Whats the worth? A million followers, and dollars What does it cost for a daughter, Your honor I want her I want the— I want the I want her head on a platter Goddamn I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I DONT GIVE A FUCK. (I need water.) Fn Pig, deadmau5 >< I AM BASS, LSDREAM That's just a container; I'm going deranged, It's crazy— Conditioned, I guess I'm detangler Looking from all different angles I used to have angels But they've been replaced, lately Been displaced, lately Need some space, lately— I guess you're part of me You're part of my soul You're part of my soul I mean probably need a lobotomy Bottom to top, Something is hunting or haunting me Got a lot of nerve I'm terrified, nervous— Might as well swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Oh. My. Ghetto. Yes. She's fabulous, 80-inch-weft With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Yes, She's fabulous Better get it! Better than best— With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Just got a text; I better ignore it Fuck this shit; Guess it's just another level Just another level Leg day Cardio Arm day Chest Put myself to the test Cause I'm tryna be One of them girls One of them girls One of them girls One of them— Oh, fuck It's just my luck The nigga is stubborn Or stuck, Or something; Guess it's not nothing Guess I gotta get back on my Buttocks; Pushing all my buttons, Guess it's not nothin Guess it's McDonalds, I'm lovin it. I feared that by spending too much time around low vibration people, I was becoming one myself; I knew that eating toxic processed foods was one way of lowering my own naturally high vibration into a lower frequency, but I was spending too much time with people who were dwelling on all of the awful things in life and none of the good; people who had homes and families and still had the nerve to complain to me, of all people, a homeless “black” woman with literally nothing to live for but music (not that music was living for me—the industry was outright dominated by privilege, and leaving color out of it, the odds were, if I was hearing their song on the radio or overhead station at the gym, their parents had been well-to-do in some way or another, if not musicians themselves, or well-connected industry people.) Gone were the days of the rising stars who actually pulled themselves up by the bootstraps-everybody on the map had a leg-up and a foot-in-the-door. At least ESPN'S ‘The Ocho' wasn't on; I didn't think I could bear to see any more frat boys pogo sticking ‘professionally' while working myself to literal dehydration trying to be one of their girlfriends—or at least look like them. Pretty white boys dated pretty white girls, period—they fucked everything—but dated pretty white girls. Existence was futile. I wanted to take my eyeballs out of my head. Oh, he's beautiful. A dark skinned man with fresh braids and a blue shirt shuffled his way smoothly past me, and I gleaned a little—not my type, but beautiful—and I wasn't going to cop to not having a type. Then, rounding the corner and into the abdominals section, a giant tattooed man in the stretch machine (whatever it was called) managed to startle me from afar, just due to being monsterous in height alone but also stark white enough so that it seemed he could illuminate an entire room by himself. What the fuck. Why be that tall? Not that it was his or anyone's fault for being large or massive as I had once been, however in width, rather than height—but tall men always struck me a particularly bizarre way, no matter how broad or handsome—and definitely terrified me a little, or a lot, depending—though no more than blue eyes did. Why am I here? Jesus Christ. I had blinders on, but they weren't working, and every moving body that worked it's way into my peripheral reminded me of something or someone; i began to feel the onset symptoms of depression kick in; I just wanted to eat and sleep, and not be bothered with the world—but unlike Jessie I hadn't the luxury of doing so, and even though I had been working I was really no closer to having a home than I had been before. I was back in The Matrix with a working telephone and every regret possible, as it was obvious the trackers were having a heyday with my psyche, the world now more populated—especially with Kayla Lauren's—than it had been without a phone. I wanted desperately to run away, but had nowhere to run—and though I loved my gym, without having a place to call home or the energy to properly work out the way I wanted to made it a special kind of Hell. At least I had the new Beyoncè album. There's a light. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA — —-JUST KILL YOURSELF. I—did that already. Do it again! No! Oh, come on. Whats the point? The point is: … What? What? You didn't finish the sentence. Neither did you. Go away, Satan. Nowhere sounds nice. I would have spared the greatest expense if I could afford it just not to exist— I had written entire novels, created film sagas and night after excruciating night at the gym whether actually on the clock or not, I was always working. In any event, a good gym session was also at least a chapter or two in one of many novels, an episode of some sort, or a concept album—if whatever pre-workout I was taking made me angsty enough to focus on writing out thoughts and phrases between sets on my favorite machines. I had actually purchased over $50 of music with my first check—and while I should have felt stupid and remorseful for it, $50 wasn't going to get me my own apartment. $50 wasn't really wasn't going to get anybody anything—especially a tank of gas. My daily 45 minute cardio consisted of an earful of deadmau5, deep breathing in sequence to my long strokes of pedaling so quickly I thought my legs might turn to propellers and I'd start hovering like a Helicopter fueled by angst, poverty, and progressive house. That's what it was. Progressive house. And I loved it, like I used to love anything else in the world, but had forgotten what it felt like if it wasn't buzzing in my ears propelling me across a loveless, lifeless desert. Everyone was miserable, no matter where I went, besides the daily gym goers who I came to know at my work and play play place. A gross sounding cough from across the room told me to kill myself—and I thought about it momentarily, but couldn't think of a way, so went back to writing. Misophonia or magic? Either way, I didn't know if I hated myself more, or Skrillex and whatever deity had granted him this sick and twisted power. I want to die. Coughing, coughing, coughing— Working working working But not making enough to live I mean really live Like the DJs did I might throw a fit If I don't get out of this everybody is sick And all it is is Coughing coughing coughing— And I'm just Walking Walking Walking From bus stop to bus stop Dropping a coin for all of my thoughts I want off this planet I want off the clock I want to go to bed— But I don't have a bed If it's all in my head Why haven't I Put a bullet in it, yet? I want to end it Use this song as an admission; I'm guilty, I did it I didn't want to see the world the way it is, Case dismissed, then Case dismissed, then Just one last kiss—then Fade to black Now we're back where we started don't forget to reflect Respect is earned When you enter through the exit No guest list for this one, kid. You better get moving Just selfish intentions Just shellfish— I wish That's not kosher or vegan Indecent exposure, for sure Is your home in foreclosure? She did it all for exposure I just need closure And a door to close, I suppose What's worse? Homeless, or hunger? Woah, I've done both, And meanwhile, she's never left home No wonder no one loves us No wonder no one loved me No wonder someday never comes Funny I wanted a hug, I got nothing Diplo follows coughs. Everyone follows coughs, She's a boss I guess Only downloaded this app to— Crap Fuck. No sense in censorship All the world is is tits And slavery Damn, —This is brave you would write this. If I end my life with a knife, Is it suicide, or 40-to-life? You know, sadness is a crime, here You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one Bring a plus one Bring a plus one Now we're all done here Now I wonder Now I wonder What was all done here I was nothing, Then something then someone Then no one, Then all of us You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one

Omg Beyonce's cute dimples. Right?! Stop fangirling. …no. THEY ARE CUTE. Bitch, shut up. BEYONCÈ is alone on an elevator—more specifically, THE HELLEVATOR; when it breaks down suddenly. Why is Beyoncè alone? I don't know… Seems dangerous. It does, doesn't it. Everybody needs alone time. I heard that. How do you get alone time when you're Beyoncè? Aha. You don't. [Beyoncè being followed by paparazzi] [Beyoncè being mom] [Beyoncè being Beyoncè] Oh, hey Beyoncè. [very serious stare] What you need? Some alone time. [Laughing in infinite dimensions] Are you done? Are you Beyoncè? Though I found it to be strange, I actually did still have a soul, somewhere, seared deeply in the confines of my body, which sometimes I found to be hideous and others to be beautiful— not that it would depend on the day, but rather my state of being, I would have considered it a state of mind, but there was something else at play. Now I hadn't been into the gym in 24 or so hours, and I was still happily getting along with myself to know that I needed a break from Las Vegas Athletic Club—at the very least the North location, which was the closest and the only one I would be finding myself making the trip to at all, although I now had a bicycle and a bus pass to go with it, which made things so much easier than it was before—I was still being drained of my energy from various sources, here-and-there—but especially from Jessie, who at times seemed like a vampire, and even though I had started to understand this reflection of myself and her purpose, I still hated it; nothing was mine, and everything that was seemed to be falling apart, and though I had more than I needed and was actually genuinely grateful, I would have never been willing to admit it—mostly because for the most part, I was still incredibly homeless, mostly—and even working away ⅔ of my day no matter how beneficial the job had become to me, was wearing me down into nothing but the tradegy of a corporate slave; this job certainly wasn't going to get me the money I needed to repay all of my debts, or a chance at a sane life—my ex husband had stolen everything from me that made me feel even the slightest bit human or whole, and I wondered, in all this loveless, careless, homeless neglect—if that was it for me; if I was meant to have stayed with the person who consistently belittled me, cheated, lied, and stole from me—and though he was never willing to admit it, knowing he could have been being recorded at any time, became violent enough to have altered my entire headspace (not that it hadn't been crumbling,) but more than likely wouldn't have shattered entirely and so suddenly without having been punched in the face, choked, or strangled. But I must have somehow deserved all of it. It was a strange world, but not a strange day; I hadn't worked out, but things seemed normal and not as robotic as they had been, usually—and though I knew there was in part a certain structural programming at play—Jessie's childish ability to flaunt her spoiled laziness about, as if she knew she both didn't and never would need to work, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, I was a literal slave; I hadn't felt guilty about writing about her from literally under her nose for quite some time; I was a fully-unapproachable, untrustworthy asshole now, and I did it to everyone, often jotting down everything I could see in my experience that was noteworthy or captivating—more or less the entirety of my human experience, which at times felt less and less human with each passing day, and more and more surreal; not only did I not believe in myself to yet be alive, the looming sense of purposeless as a heavy cloud on my shoulders at all time, knowing one day, maybe even soon, I would finally wake up, knowing all of this to have just been an excessive fairytale—a nightmare of cosmic potions, where misogynistic men and other wrongdoers ran the world, where the ugly and poor remained slaves, and where the unjust nature of inequality had become a normalcy, amongst everyone in this existence, surely a lower realm of such—it wasn't possible at all that this dream, or nightmare, would be anything a proper God would have imagined—not one worthy of worship, anyway. It was the American dream turned American nightmare—rich people living in excess with not a care in the world, and even those not having aquired a desirable amount of wealth, still living in privilege and filth, as I had observed in all my homelessness; everyone who had welcomed me into their home seemed incapable of taking care of it—which I found to be nearly unforgivable; how could one have something as precious as a home and leave it in ruins, letting trash and such excessive materials pile up into corners with the dust and the grime that was so simple to get rid of?! There was a clearer, deeper lesson at play here; though some had lived in literal shacks, they had been kept explicitly clean—and though during my childhood the discomfort of visiting anywhere less than middle class had given me an itch of discomfort, most of the households I did visit were also kept immaculate, save for those who had become addicts of something…and maybe that was the focal point of it all— that almost every American was addicted to something, and had to use another something in order to supplement for whatever the first addiction caused déficit to; I didn't care anymore really, and was willing to work, obviously for pennies on the millions of billions of dollars all of these corporations were scooping up—and though I just as stupidly as anyone else had spent a mentionable portion of my tiny paycheck on music, which I didn't technically need, but it kept me sane—and I was willing enough to keep my delusional dreams of becoming a DJ on hold, just to have a home, or a hole of my own that I could crawl into when I wasn't working for someone else, or working out the poison I had put into my body just to cope with being the kind of human that hadn't yet been lucky enough to be loved, or liked, or cared for and hadn't been lied to, despised, and betrayed in the same breath and by the same people that did once claim to love. ——- The new Beyoncé album made me upset in a depressing kind of way; I wasn't black enough for it, to begin with, or at least wouldn't let myself be—it wasn't made for me, or maybe it was—but I was struggling with self and doubted any supposed greatness, probably more than ever needing to get away from Jessie and her sadly-something family—I didn't have a word for it, and since white people hated more than anything being called out for their privelege and racism, was straying away from even being able to write about it; I knew I wanted to be somewhere or anywhere in the middle of the obviously apparent race war—but there was no middle, just black-or-white— and I was neither. It sounded something like Skrillex had worked on it, or Sonny, or whoever the fuck he was—and in fact, I was almost certain he had, that I had strayed from the blockbuster romance that was supposed to have resulted from whatever out of bounds otherworldly shit had happened, and that the Dillon Francis I had romanticized was more than likely the Dillon Francis that probably belonged to whatever “organization” my ex had claimed he did— the organization that was more “willing to kill me and bury me in the woods where no one would find me”, than ever put me on or give me any worthwhile status; but how else could he—Dillon Francis—have known my deepest and darkest secret? I figured mY ex husband must have told them— whoever they were—everything. One Somethings wrong with me; Mums the word Don't look at me, you my son, I am the one you want. BIG FREEDA and BEYONCE are stealing souls with their new hit dance song, aiding JESUS CHRIST in the fight against evil. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. By the millions, members of Beyonce's massive fandoms release a number of things; Including their jobs, their vibes, and their souls– all of which, luckily, end up in the right hands. BEYONCE has lent SUPACREE her soul. Don't break it. I would never. However, BEYONCE'S soul i incredibly fragile, and after a series of near-breaks, SUPACREE has decided the only way to keep it safe, is within her own soul; which has been encapsulated in an unbreakable vault by the use of magical cosmic forces yet unseen, but soon to be unmasked. Key: villed grey And everybody's miserable, And everybody's miserable, And everybody's got just cause— But it doesn't make a difference, does it? It didn't, and it never did And never will When will we believe in Anything, again— That we did as children, Or kids? I've never hated myself or Debated suicide more often, Than I have now, at least for awhile Or a minute, Whichever's of lesser or greater value Get it? I'm in remission, but Living is cancer And dying is the only thing that cures it I hate being human It's a curse It's a cause It's a movement I can't move Into the future without you But I guess I'll have to And I'll just keep on writing Songs about you Song about you Songs about you— Sounds about right, But it does t seem right at all Without you Without you Without you Without you How about now? Am I powerful enough to fight you? That's right I left right on time Just to spite you I am sad today But I have t had sunlight, And I haven't had a bike ride But I needed rest, see I almost died I've got no light on the front And reflectors don't work unless Someone close to you has lights on, I found out Wow Everything my mom said makes sense now I get how It's dangerous to ride your bike when it's dark out And there are dark clouds overhead But somehow I made it And I get Sorry, am I in your way? I can reach over you… It's me. I know it's you. You fuckin' dick. Let me explain. I heard Beyoncé's new album. That wasn't me… So you're trying to tell me you're everyone in the world but Beyoncé. …yes! Whatever. Listen to me. I'll do anything but that. I have a plan. I don't care. Yes you do. You don't know me. You don't know me! Shut up, Mrs. Pancakes and listen to what I have to say. Unless what you have to say is, “I'm sorry— “ I am sorry! —I don't wanna hear it. I said I'm sorry. I said I don't wanna hear it. Cool. Fucking cool. If it was a 7-year curse, I had 4 years down and still nothing to show for it but literal blood, sweat, and tears— there was no joy in anything except for food, which kept me in the gym and trying my best to stay in shape—and I was fit, but not petite, like Kayla Lauren; all the finest men wanted child-shaped women, or at the very best so petite that anything could do, and I could do nothing but sulk in my self-hatred. But perhaps I had spent too much time around Jessie, who for exactly 3 days had tried to mimic my neat and tidiness by cleaning up after herself, only to go back to the laziness and chaos that I had begun to get used to; however, realizing I had become quite the parasite, often exchanging the energy I was losing for other valuables I myself wouldn't purchase without having my own space; laundry and dish detergent, shampoo and conditioner, and the entirety of the spice rack—which I did feel tinges of guilt about, but nonetheless, an automatic housekeeper, justified using such things by having to take after the laziness around me, which drained my energy entirely—and promising to replace them when I could, though undoubtedly only feeling as if it was okay because of the apparent over-abundance, and my own shortcomings. I didn't want to go back to Mexico, really, but probably would—the United States was too expensive, but I had gotten used to the luxuries and without a thought didn't really want to return where everything was broken down and dirty—and, where I was expected to pay more being “rich” because I could earn more by going back “home”, however, without a true home to go to, it was only a waste of time and energy to even be back; at least I could gym, and I did in part have Kayla Lauren, or at least the whole of white supremacy to thank for that—the fact that she and girls alike were automatically just ‘better' and had more advantages for being more fuckable pissed me off to the point that gym time had become part of my daily regimen; though, surrounded by petite-bodied fredcked faces did nothing for my own confidence or self worth—I still had Sonny always in the forefront of my mind, and somehow somewhere someone had figured him as my ideal enough to make this all happen; now all I wanted to be was 108 pounds and petite, knowing at that exact measurement anyone who wasn't really a racist would want me—and know knowing I wanted more than to be wanted, but to be needed. My dreams were seeping Into reality and blending with astral projections of the past, whatever that was; I had been gladly visited by my dead son and however traumatizing that was, I had at least seen him, healthy and tall, 7 years old as he would have been at the time—and of course, taunted in the dream world as always being there, but not—in another room, in another place—aware of him but not with him, always thinking about him but not there, as I had truly been. It didn't matter that the universe or whatever evil was in it was haunting me with my motherhood—I had actually tried to keep my marriage intact, and I knew it in my heart and soul, or whatever stardust was left of their remains respectively, that I had done no wrong. It was a damned-if-i-did and damned-If I didn't situation; there was no remedy for whatever had taken place but to forget with time. Jessie's house really was depressing, and I feared for her that she would never actually leave it, however spoiled she was. It had to have been a rampant sickness, her father, a slave driver who used his ex wife and daughter as laborers for his business, and while keeping them well fed, not paid well enough to actually go into the world and succeed; he was just as evil as any other corporation or business, and just as powerful; using his Christianity as a guard against being considered truly harmful—and his graciousness of allowing me into his home was at the very most a kindness I couldn't look past, trying not to judge but understanding over and over again how one can fail to use a trash can; he wasn't in a rush; in fact, he spent his days watching Evangelists talk about the coming apocalypse, while his ex wife and daughter toiled away making fishing lures for his business, apparently very profitable. For something I admired him—perhaps his musicianship, or perhaps just my strange and undying affection for Caucasian alpha males, or even that he did have such a power as to keep his ex wife and daughter underfoot, when my own ex husband had moved to physically subduing me as his only means of control, later keeping my son from me as the ultimate power play——and of course, throwing in the Dillon Francis monkey wrench, a true nod to whatever Satanic backwards magic was previously thought to be at play. Now i understood it just to be my mind unraveling—the only person I had ever truly loved, had never truly loved me; however, i was useful and sweet—besides being ramapantly obese, the perfect wife and caretaker. Now, I was preparing for a steady non-existence, loneliness, lifelessness, friendlessness, and homelessness; and I thought myself soon to be dead again, in one way or another. All I wanted was home, and home was said to be where the heart was—but thinking back to a tragic time, I had foolishly given mine to Dillon Francis, in pieces, after Sonny Moore had used Kayla Lauren to break it. How many women were in line to see The Great Sonny Moore, on the same ride I had been on, and with the same deal signed-sealed-and delivered to The Devil Himself, if not the messengers at the pearly gates for God's eyes and ears only? I had to think the number to be in the hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions—as I had finally founded the integral magical practice of hypnotism through music, as it had been for eons and centuries—and now, as programmed as I was neither happy nor unhappy to be, having lost all but the body, devoid of feelings or true sense of livelihood at all, even having misplaced the ability to be music at all—I was just a thing in a world full of other things—neither woman nor man, nor any feeling thing at all; most American dogs were more loved and well cared for than I was. My obsessive brain allowed for infatuation beyond my wildest content, and though either self-control or self-pity kept anyone at a safe and proper distance, I still craved something or someone that wholly didn't exist. My head was on a platter, eyes still blinking and mouth agape, though without the life force I had once garnered and cherished to have been brought about into time with merely the mind, and the mind alone. Jessie was a petite virgin who was so moldeable it was hard to see myself as anything but less-than beside her, and on two opposite ends of the spectrum of inequality we existed; she would never have to work, or leave home, or lift a finger—almost any man would be willing to take care of her without her having to do much, and, as historically proven, any man would look past her ridiculous laziness or an unideal facial structure in exchange for a hot body he could claim all his own, nonetheless for one who wouldn't bother to leave the house, who he could keep at home ready for use at will—and here I was, washed up without any of the fame of glory to accompany it, used and abused and put through the wash enough times to shrink, but not to remove the stains as had been set in stone since they were made. Nothing was right, but everything was good—practicing The Secret had to eventually have its effects. No matter how miserable I felt, I was always good, or great, or awesome—but still, daily, combating the consistent and ever-constant thoughts of back-to-back self hatred and loathing. I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my— I love myself… I love my life I love myself I love my life— Ugh. But I was sleeping on the floor below one of the laziest people I had ever met, who I loved dearly since the age of 12– but couldn't help but hate a little for not having to do anything, ever, and somehow knowing we were both complatent and self-assured that some wealthy man would undoubtedly swoop from out of nowhere to marry the forlorn virgin goddess— Ugh. She was an energy vampire. Meanwhile, my promotion to Manager, with bonus commission and all the overtime I was pulling in still wouldn't be enough to amount to affording my own apartment, and it seemed, as I had been warned before, that it was true—I would never be safe in my own home country of The United States of America, and the more and more angry white women I literally bumped and brushed shoulders with, receiving deathly stares and glances from blue and green eyes like something out of a dystopian race war nightmare, the more I realized that there was only so much unfairness and inequality that could take place before things had to change; Rich people were racing corgis—children were selling coffee in the streets; the National air guitar championship was underway— people were dying of hunger and thirst— Skrillex and Dillon Francis were superstar DJs—everyone had a Kayla Lauren or something similar to show off— And I was the overnight manager at a mega-gym. Fuck this life. I was probably supposed to hate myself, I was probably supposed to kill myself, too—but I was too afraid to do that again. It was all Ali and I talked about, for years—how this existence was merely a blemish in the ever-expanse of time and space; how we were bound to our earthly bodies as punishment for some Mistake we had made in an inmemorable past existence —probably murder or rape, or something horrible—our loveless, hopeless bodies bound to be forever unloved, unsuccessful, and overall unhappy. A burning cough lodged itself out of the depths of hell from the ugly fat woman in front of me—not that I was any different, really. It seemed and was apparently so that the ‘coughs' demon, as I had come to call it, inhabited the broken bodies of sick individuals, usually visibly weak in some way—typically obese or otherwise unhealthy, if I were willing to give the beast the time or day by looking, as I usually was able to ignore it, washing it out of my peripheral or continuing to look forward, or wherever I was looking. Assuredly, Sonny had surrounded himself by powerful demon-like practitioners of [the type of] magic I was unwilling to use or even acknowledge, though admittedly—this coughs demon to a certain extent had to have been more obessed with me than I had ever been with it, oftentimes lurking in places I felt most vulnerable, acting as a push into suicidal ideation and the other great realms of non-existence, my synesthesia acting like a painful ailment when such a nasty sound did rear it's ugly head. It had been four years living with this awful thing—no matter where I went, someone would make their way Into my personal space just to cough, or hack—and, though by now having grown mostly immune to it, I was still annoyed as ever when it came down to it—my sanity not breaking, but somehow pieced together using frail elements such as deadmau5 as duck tape; unbeknownst to me before doing so, anyway, it actually did properly seal the bullet like wounds in my being…call it universal healthcare, perhaps. I was the only one, really, who could make myself laugh anymore. It had become a game between God and I to see who could do it the most, and though most people seemed programmed and robotic or unreal entirely, there were few in the three dimensional realm occasionally that were human enough to make me forget that the rest of the world had been for the most part a dysfunctional computer—if I was lucky, I might have been having a heatstroke of some sort, as sometimes pedaling furiously on my bicycle, the entire world would in-fact smell like the innards of a windows 98 computer, having just overheated; I was a vegan, hadn't drank or even smoked in years—and now was fighting off a rampant sugar addiction with both hands tied behind my back, which was huge—and though still fitting into a Nike small, which might have been an achievement had I not figured there to be a size such as 2XS—the roundness of my backside couldn't outweigh the deathly amount of guilt and self pity even only the occasional Oreo brought on; I needed to be devastatingly thin for anything to make sense, and nothing really did (make sense, that is.) I was hungry, and angry with myself, and mad at the world; I couldn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve my life the way it was—the worst part, though, was there was no exit button. There was no easy way out; I knew that death was not the end, but just the departure from another realm—and that as infinite as love and life had been, death might have been, too. Preparing for the worst and never hoping for the best, for fear I would only gain the opposite, I wondered where I would go and what I would do next. Ali was making his presence in a greater realm more and more apparent with each passing moment; it was always 2:22, and every time it was—something cosmic happened. I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I'll be up all night (I'm up all night) Doing three things at once (I don't give a fuck) Every crunch is a coffin I don't do this often or much, But look forward to eating my lunch It's in the oven That's probably my cousin I don't give a fuck So what does it matter? Putter patter goes the blood spatter, Since you had to ask Spread my ashes at Madison Avenue Nobody asked, But I spat out the answer, Then finally laughed How about that Aha How about that I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I have too much to do, I can't be pretty, too (You used me) Pity the pitiful fool (But I let you) Write me a check So that I don't regret you Forever (Never say never) A bet is a bet; And I'll never get to see you sweat It's for the better It's for the better It's for the better For better or worse? Whats the worth? A million followers, and dollars What does it cost for a daughter, Your honor I want her I want the— I want the I want her head on a platter Goddamn I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I DONT GIVE A FUCK. (I need water.) Fn Pig, deadmau5 >< I AM BASS, LSDREAM That's just a container; I'm going deranged, It's crazy— Conditioned, I guess I'm detangler Looking from all different angles I used to have angels But they've been replaced, lately Been displaced, lately Need some space, lately— I guess you're part of me You're part of my soul You're part of my soul I mean probably need a lobotomy Bottom to top, Something is hunting or haunting me Got a lot of nerve I'm terrified, nervous— Might as well swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Oh. My. Ghetto. Yes. She's fabulous, 80-inch-weft With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Yes, She's fabulous Better get it! Better than best— With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Just got a text; I better ignore it Fuck this shit; Guess it's just another level Just another level Leg day Cardio Arm day Chest Put myself to the test Cause I'm tryna be One of them girls One of them girls One of them girls One of them— Oh, fuck It's just my luck The nigga is stubborn Or stuck, Or something; Guess it's not nothing Guess I gotta get back on my Buttocks; Pushing all my buttons, Guess it's not nothin Guess it's McDonalds, I'm lovin it. I feared that by spending too much time around low vibration people, I was becoming one myself; I knew that eating toxic processed foods was one way of lowering my own naturally high vibration into a lower frequency, but I was spending too much time with people who were dwelling on all of the awful things in life and none of the good; people who had homes and families and still had the nerve to complain to me, of all people, a homeless “black” woman with literally nothing to live for but music (not that music was living for me—the industry was outright dominated by privilege, and leaving color out of it, the odds were, if I was hearing their song on the radio or overhead station at the gym, their parents had been well-to-do in some way or another, if not musicians themselves, or well-connected industry people.) Gone were the days of the rising stars who actually pulled themselves up by the bootstraps-everybody on the map had a leg-up and a foot-in-the-door. At least ESPN'S ‘The Ocho' wasn't on; I didn't think I could bear to see any more frat boys pogo sticking ‘professionally' while working myself to literal dehydration trying to be one of their girlfriends—or at least look like them. Pretty white boys dated pretty white girls, period—they fucked everything—but dated pretty white girls. Existence was futile. I wanted to take my eyeballs out of my head. Oh, he's beautiful. A dark skinned man with fresh braids and a blue shirt shuffled his way smoothly past me, and I gleaned a little—not my type, but beautiful—and I wasn't going to cop to not having a type. Then, rounding the corner and into the abdominals section, a giant tattooed man in the stretch machine (whatever it was called) managed to startle me from afar, just due to being monsterous in height alone but also stark white enough so that it seemed he could illuminate an entire room by himself. What the fuck. Why be that tall? Not that it was his or anyone's fault for being large or massive as I had once been, however in width, rather than height—but tall men always struck me a particularly bizarre way, no matter how broad or handsome—and definitely terrified me a little, or a lot, depending—though no more than blue eyes did. Why am I here? Jesus Christ. I had blinders on, but they weren't working, and every moving body that worked it's way into my peripheral reminded me of something or someone; i began to feel the onset symptoms of depression kick in; I just wanted to eat and sleep, and not be bothered with the world—but unlike Jessie I hadn't the luxury of doing so, and even though I had been working I was really no closer to having a home than I had been before. I was back in The Matrix with a working telephone and every regret possible, as it was obvious the trackers were having a heyday with my psyche, the world now more populated—especially with Kayla Lauren's—than it had been without a phone. I wanted desperately to run away, but had nowhere to run—and though I loved my gym, without having a place to call home or the energy to properly work out the way I wanted to made it a special kind of Hell. At least I had the new Beyoncè album. There's a light. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA — —-JUST KILL YOURSELF. I—did that already. Do it again! No! Oh, come on. Whats the point? The point is: … What? What? You didn't finish the sentence. Neither did you. Go away, Satan. Nowhere sounds nice. I would have spared the greatest expense if I could afford it just not to exist— I had written entire novels, created film sagas and night after excruciating night at the gym whether actually on the clock or not, I was always working. In any event, a good gym session was also at least a chapter or two in one of many novels, an episode of some sort, or a concept album—if whatever pre-workout I was taking made me angsty enough to focus on writing out thoughts and phrases between sets on my favorite machines. I had actually purchased over $50 of music with my first check—and while I should have felt stupid and remorseful for it, $50 wasn't going to get me my own apartment. $50 wasn't really wasn't going to get anybody anything—especially a tank of gas. My daily 45 minute cardio consisted of an earful of deadmau5, deep breathing in sequence to my long strokes of pedaling so quickly I thought my legs might turn to propellers and I'd start hovering like a Helicopter fueled by angst, poverty, and progressive house. That's what it was. Progressive house. And I loved it, like I used to love anything else in the world, but had forgotten what it felt like if it wasn't buzzing in my ears propelling me across a loveless, lifeless desert. Everyone was miserable, no matter where I went, besides the daily gym goers who I came to know at my work and play play place. A gross sounding cough from across the room told me to kill myself—and I thought about it momentarily, but couldn't think of a way, so went back to writing. Misophonia or magic? Either way, I didn't know if I hated myself more, or Skrillex and whatever deity had granted him this sick and twisted power. I want to die. Coughing, coughing, coughing— Working working working But not making enough to live I mean really live Like the DJs did I might throw a fit If I don't get out of this everybody is sick And all it is is Coughing coughing coughing— And I'm just Walking Walking Walking From bus stop to bus stop Dropping a coin for all of my thoughts I want off this planet I want off the clock I want to go to bed— But I don't have a bed If it's all in my head Why haven't I Put a bullet in it, yet? I want to end it Use this song as an admission; I'm guilty, I did it I didn't want to see the world the way it is, Case dismissed, then Case dismissed, then Just one last kiss—then Fade to black Now we're back where we started don't forget to reflect Respect is earned When you enter through the exit No guest list for this one, kid. You better get moving Just selfish intentions Just shellfish— I wish That's not kosher or vegan Indecent exposure, for sure Is your home in foreclosure? She did it all for exposure I just need closure And a door to close, I suppose What's worse? Homeless, or hunger? Woah, I've done both, And meanwhile, she's never left home No wonder no one loves us No wonder no one loved me No wonder someday never comes Funny I wanted a hug, I got nothing Diplo follows coughs. Everyone follows coughs, She's a boss I guess Only downloaded this app to— Crap Fuck. No sense in censorship All the world is is tits And slavery Damn, —This is brave you would write this. If I end my life with a knife, Is it suicide, or 40-to-life? You know, sadness is a crime, here You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one Bring a plus one Bring a plus one Now we're all done here Now I wonder Now I wonder What was all done here I was nothing, Then something then someone Then no one, Then all of us You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one

Omg Beyonce's cute dimples. Right?! Stop fangirling. …no. THEY ARE CUTE. Bitch, shut up. BEYONCÈ is alone on an elevator—more specifically, THE HELLEVATOR; when it breaks down suddenly. Why is Beyoncè alone? I don't know… Seems dangerous. It does, doesn't it. Everybody needs alone time. I heard that. How do you get alone time when you're Beyoncè? Aha. You don't. [Beyoncè being followed by paparazzi] [Beyoncè being mom] [Beyoncè being Beyoncè] Oh, hey Beyoncè. [very serious stare] What you need? Some alone time. [Laughing in infinite dimensions] Are you done? Are you Beyoncè? Though I found it to be strange, I actually did still have a soul, somewhere, seared deeply in the confines of my body, which sometimes I found to be hideous and others to be beautiful— not that it would depend on the day, but rather my state of being, I would have considered it a state of mind, but there was something else at play. Now I hadn't been into the gym in 24 or so hours, and I was still happily getting along with myself to know that I needed a break from Las Vegas Athletic Club—at the very least the North location, which was the closest and the only one I would be finding myself making the trip to at all, although I now had a bicycle and a bus pass to go with it, which made things so much easier than it was before—I was still being drained of my energy from various sources, here-and-there—but especially from Jessie, who at times seemed like a vampire, and even though I had started to understand this reflection of myself and her purpose, I still hated it; nothing was mine, and everything that was seemed to be falling apart, and though I had more than I needed and was actually genuinely grateful, I would have never been willing to admit it—mostly because for the most part, I was still incredibly homeless, mostly—and even working away ⅔ of my day no matter how beneficial the job had become to me, was wearing me down into nothing but the tradegy of a corporate slave; this job certainly wasn't going to get me the money I needed to repay all of my debts, or a chance at a sane life—my ex husband had stolen everything from me that made me feel even the slightest bit human or whole, and I wondered, in all this loveless, careless, homeless neglect—if that was it for me; if I was meant to have stayed with the person who consistently belittled me, cheated, lied, and stole from me—and though he was never willing to admit it, knowing he could have been being recorded at any time, became violent enough to have altered my entire headspace (not that it hadn't been crumbling,) but more than likely wouldn't have shattered entirely and so suddenly without having been punched in the face, choked, or strangled. But I must have somehow deserved all of it. It was a strange world, but not a strange day; I hadn't worked out, but things seemed normal and not as robotic as they had been, usually—and though I knew there was in part a certain structural programming at play—Jessie's childish ability to flaunt her spoiled laziness about, as if she knew she both didn't and never would need to work, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, I was a literal slave; I hadn't felt guilty about writing about her from literally under her nose for quite some time; I was a fully-unapproachable, untrustworthy asshole now, and I did it to everyone, often jotting down everything I could see in my experience that was noteworthy or captivating—more or less the entirety of my human experience, which at times felt less and less human with each passing day, and more and more surreal; not only did I not believe in myself to yet be alive, the looming sense of purposeless as a heavy cloud on my shoulders at all time, knowing one day, maybe even soon, I would finally wake up, knowing all of this to have just been an excessive fairytale—a nightmare of cosmic potions, where misogynistic men and other wrongdoers ran the world, where the ugly and poor remained slaves, and where the unjust nature of inequality had become a normalcy, amongst everyone in this existence, surely a lower realm of such—it wasn't possible at all that this dream, or nightmare, would be anything a proper God would have imagined—not one worthy of worship, anyway. It was the American dream turned American nightmare—rich people living in excess with not a care in the world, and even those not having aquired a desirable amount of wealth, still living in privilege and filth, as I had observed in all my homelessness; everyone who had welcomed me into their home seemed incapable of taking care of it—which I found to be nearly unforgivable; how could one have something as precious as a home and leave it in ruins, letting trash and such excessive materials pile up into corners with the dust and the grime that was so simple to get rid of?! There was a clearer, deeper lesson at play here; though some had lived in literal shacks, they had been kept explicitly clean—and though during my childhood the discomfort of visiting anywhere less than middle class had given me an itch of discomfort, most of the households I did visit were also kept immaculate, save for those who had become addicts of something…and maybe that was the focal point of it all— that almost every American was addicted to something, and had to use another something in order to supplement for whatever the first addiction caused déficit to; I didn't care anymore really, and was willing to work, obviously for pennies on the millions of billions of dollars all of these corporations were scooping up—and though I just as stupidly as anyone else had spent a mentionable portion of my tiny paycheck on music, which I didn't technically need, but it kept me sane—and I was willing enough to keep my delusional dreams of becoming a DJ on hold, just to have a home, or a hole of my own that I could crawl into when I wasn't working for someone else, or working out the poison I had put into my body just to cope with being the kind of human that hadn't yet been lucky enough to be loved, or liked, or cared for and hadn't been lied to, despised, and betrayed in the same breath and by the same people that did once claim to love. ——- The new Beyoncé album made me upset in a depressing kind of way; I wasn't black enough for it, to begin with, or at least wouldn't let myself be—it wasn't made for me, or maybe it was—but I was struggling with self and doubted any supposed greatness, probably more than ever needing to get away from Jessie and her sadly-something family—I didn't have a word for it, and since white people hated more than anything being called out for their privelege and racism, was straying away from even being able to write about it; I knew I wanted to be somewhere or anywhere in the middle of the obviously apparent race war—but there was no middle, just black-or-white— and I was neither. It sounded something like Skrillex had worked on it, or Sonny, or whoever the fuck he was—and in fact, I was almost certain he had, that I had strayed from the blockbuster romance that was supposed to have resulted from whatever out of bounds otherworldly shit had happened, and that the Dillon Francis I had romanticized was more than likely the Dillon Francis that probably belonged to whatever “organization” my ex had claimed he did— the organization that was more “willing to kill me and bury me in the woods where no one would find me”, than ever put me on or give me any worthwhile status; but how else could he—Dillon Francis—have known my deepest and darkest secret? I figured mY ex husband must have told them— whoever they were—everything. One Somethings wrong with me; Mums the word Don't look at me, you my son, I am the one you want. BIG FREEDA and BEYONCE are stealing souls with their new hit dance song, aiding JESUS CHRIST in the fight against evil. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. By the millions, members of Beyonce's massive fandoms release a number of things; Including their jobs, their vibes, and their souls– all of which, luckily, end up in the right hands. BEYONCE has lent SUPACREE her soul. Don't break it. I would never. However, BEYONCE'S soul i incredibly fragile, and after a series of near-breaks, SUPACREE has decided the only way to keep it safe, is within her own soul; which has been encapsulated in an unbreakable vault by the use of magical cosmic forces yet unseen, but soon to be unmasked. Key: villed grey And everybody's miserable, And everybody's miserable, And everybody's got just cause— But it doesn't make a difference, does it? It didn't, and it never did And never will When will we believe in Anything, again— That we did as children, Or kids? I've never hated myself or Debated suicide more often, Than I have now, at least for awhile Or a minute, Whichever's of lesser or greater value Get it? I'm in remission, but Living is cancer And dying is the only thing that cures it I hate being human It's a curse It's a cause It's a movement I can't move Into the future without you But I guess I'll have to And I'll just keep on writing Songs about you Song about you Songs about you— Sounds about right, But it does t seem right at all Without you Without you Without you Without you How about now? Am I powerful enough to fight you? That's right I left right on time Just to spite you I am sad today But I have t had sunlight, And I haven't had a bike ride But I needed rest, see I almost died I've got no light on the front And reflectors don't work unless Someone close to you has lights on, I found out Wow Everything my mom said makes sense now I get how It's dangerous to ride your bike when it's dark out And there are dark clouds overhead But somehow I made it And I get Sorry, am I in your way? I can reach over you… It's me. I know it's you. You fuckin' dick. Let me explain. I heard Beyoncé's new album. That wasn't me… So you're trying to tell me you're everyone in the world but Beyoncé. …yes! Whatever. Listen to me. I'll do anything but that. I have a plan. I don't care. Yes you do. You don't know me. You don't know me! Shut up, Mrs. Pancakes and listen to what I have to say. Unless what you have to say is, “I'm sorry— “ I am sorry! —I don't wanna hear it. I said I'm sorry. I said I don't wanna hear it. Cool. Fucking cool. If it was a 7-year curse, I had 4 years down and still nothing to show for it but literal blood, sweat, and tears— there was no joy in anything except for food, which kept me in the gym and trying my best to stay in shape—and I was fit, but not petite, like Kayla Lauren; all the finest men wanted child-shaped women, or at the very best so petite that anything could do, and I could do nothing but sulk in my self-hatred. But perhaps I had spent too much time around Jessie, who for exactly 3 days had tried to mimic my neat and tidiness by cleaning up after herself, only to go back to the laziness and chaos that I had begun to get used to; however, realizing I had become quite the parasite, often exchanging the energy I was losing for other valuables I myself wouldn't purchase without having my own space; laundry and dish detergent, shampoo and conditioner, and the entirety of the spice rack—which I did feel tinges of guilt about, but nonetheless, an automatic housekeeper, justified using such things by having to take after the laziness around me, which drained my energy entirely—and promising to replace them when I could, though undoubtedly only feeling as if it was okay because of the apparent over-abundance, and my own shortcomings. I didn't want to go back to Mexico, really, but probably would—the United States was too expensive, but I had gotten used to the luxuries and without a thought didn't really want to return where everything was broken down and dirty—and, where I was expected to pay more being “rich” because I could earn more by going back “home”, however, without a true home to go to, it was only a waste of time and energy to even be back; at least I could gym, and I did in part have Kayla Lauren, or at least the whole of white supremacy to thank for that—the fact that she and girls alike were automatically just ‘better' and had more advantages for being more fuckable pissed me off to the point that gym time had become part of my daily regimen; though, surrounded by petite-bodied fredcked faces did nothing for my own confidence or self worth—I still had Sonny always in the forefront of my mind, and somehow somewhere someone had figured him as my ideal enough to make this all happen; now all I wanted to be was 108 pounds and petite, knowing at that exact measurement anyone who wasn't really a racist would want me—and know knowing I wanted more than to be wanted, but to be needed. My dreams were seeping Into reality and blending with astral projections of the past, whatever that was; I had been gladly visited by my dead son and however traumatizing that was, I had at least seen him, healthy and tall, 7 years old as he would have been at the time—and of course, taunted in the dream world as always being there, but not—in another room, in another place—aware of him but not with him, always thinking about him but not there, as I had truly been. It didn't matter that the universe or whatever evil was in it was haunting me with my motherhood—I had actually tried to keep my marriage intact, and I knew it in my heart and soul, or whatever stardust was left of their remains respectively, that I had done no wrong. It was a damned-if-i-did and damned-If I didn't situation; there was no remedy for whatever had taken place but to forget with time. Jessie's house really was depressing, and I feared for her that she would never actually leave it, however spoiled she was. It had to have been a rampant sickness, her father, a slave driver who used his ex wife and daughter as laborers for his business, and while keeping them well fed, not paid well enough to actually go into the world and succeed; he was just as evil as any other corporation or business, and just as powerful; using his Christianity as a guard against being considered truly harmful—and his graciousness of allowing me into his home was at the very most a kindness I couldn't look past, trying not to judge but understanding over and over again how one can fail to use a trash can; he wasn't in a rush; in fact, he spent his days watching Evangelists talk about the coming apocalypse, while his ex wife and daughter toiled away making fishing lures for his business, apparently very profitable. For something I admired him—perhaps his musicianship, or perhaps just my strange and undying affection for Caucasian alpha males, or even that he did have such a power as to keep his ex wife and daughter underfoot, when my own ex husband had moved to physically subduing me as his only means of control, later keeping my son from me as the ultimate power play——and of course, throwing in the Dillon Francis monkey wrench, a true nod to whatever Satanic backwards magic was previously thought to be at play. Now i understood it just to be my mind unraveling—the only person I had ever truly loved, had never truly loved me; however, i was useful and sweet—besides being ramapantly obese, the perfect wife and caretaker. Now, I was preparing for a steady non-existence, loneliness, lifelessness, friendlessness, and homelessness; and I thought myself soon to be dead again, in one way or another. All I wanted was home, and home was said to be where the heart was—but thinking back to a tragic time, I had foolishly given mine to Dillon Francis, in pieces, after Sonny Moore had used Kayla Lauren to break it. How many women were in line to see The Great Sonny Moore, on the same ride I had been on, and with the same deal signed-sealed-and delivered to The Devil Himself, if not the messengers at the pearly gates for God's eyes and ears only? I had to think the number to be in the hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions—as I had finally founded the integral magical practice of hypnotism through music, as it had been for eons and centuries—and now, as programmed as I was neither happy nor unhappy to be, having lost all but the body, devoid of feelings or true sense of livelihood at all, even having misplaced the ability to be music at all—I was just a thing in a world full of other things—neither woman nor man, nor any feeling thing at all; most American dogs were more loved and well cared for than I was. My obsessive brain allowed for infatuation beyond my wildest content, and though either self-control or self-pity kept anyone at a safe and proper distance, I still craved something or someone that wholly didn't exist. My head was on a platter, eyes still blinking and mouth agape, though without the life force I had once garnered and cherished to have been brought about into time with merely the mind, and the mind alone. Jessie was a petite virgin who was so moldeable it was hard to see myself as anything but less-than beside her, and on two opposite ends of the spectrum of inequality we existed; she would never have to work, or leave home, or lift a finger—almost any man would be willing to take care of her without her having to do much, and, as historically proven, any man would look past her ridiculous laziness or an unideal facial structure in exchange for a hot body he could claim all his own, nonetheless for one who wouldn't bother to leave the house, who he could keep at home ready for use at will—and here I was, washed up without any of the fame of glory to accompany it, used and abused and put through the wash enough times to shrink, but not to remove the stains as had been set in stone since they were made. Nothing was right, but everything was good—practicing The Secret had to eventually have its effects. No matter how miserable I felt, I was always good, or great, or awesome—but still, daily, combating the consistent and ever-constant thoughts of back-to-back self hatred and loathing. I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my— I love myself… I love my life I love myself I love my life— Ugh. But I was sleeping on the floor below one of the laziest people I had ever met, who I loved dearly since the age of 12– but couldn't help but hate a little for not having to do anything, ever, and somehow knowing we were both complatent and self-assured that some wealthy man would undoubtedly swoop from out of nowhere to marry the forlorn virgin goddess— Ugh. She was an energy vampire. Meanwhile, my promotion to Manager, with bonus commission and all the overtime I was pulling in still wouldn't be enough to amount to affording my own apartment, and it seemed, as I had been warned before, that it was true—I would never be safe in my own home country of The United States of America, and the more and more angry white women I literally bumped and brushed shoulders with, receiving deathly stares and glances from blue and green eyes like something out of a dystopian race war nightmare, the more I realized that there was only so much unfairness and inequality that could take place before things had to change; Rich people were racing corgis—children were selling coffee in the streets; the National air guitar championship was underway— people were dying of hunger and thirst— Skrillex and Dillon Francis were superstar DJs—everyone had a Kayla Lauren or something similar to show off— And I was the overnight manager at a mega-gym. Fuck this life. I was probably supposed to hate myself, I was probably supposed to kill myself, too—but I was too afraid to do that again. It was all Ali and I talked about, for years—how this existence was merely a blemish in the ever-expanse of time and space; how we were bound to our earthly bodies as punishment for some Mistake we had made in an inmemorable past existence —probably murder or rape, or something horrible—our loveless, hopeless bodies bound to be forever unloved, unsuccessful, and overall unhappy. A burning cough lodged itself out of the depths of hell from the ugly fat woman in front of me—not that I was any different, really. It seemed and was apparently so that the ‘coughs' demon, as I had come to call it, inhabited the broken bodies of sick individuals, usually visibly weak in some way—typically obese or otherwise unhealthy, if I were willing to give the beast the time or day by looking, as I usually was able to ignore it, washing it out of my peripheral or continuing to look forward, or wherever I was looking. Assuredly, Sonny had surrounded himself by powerful demon-like practitioners of [the type of] magic I was unwilling to use or even acknowledge, though admittedly—this coughs demon to a certain extent had to have been more obessed with me than I had ever been with it, oftentimes lurking in places I felt most vulnerable, acting as a push into suicidal ideation and the other great realms of non-existence, my synesthesia acting like a painful ailment when such a nasty sound did rear it's ugly head. It had been four years living with this awful thing—no matter where I went, someone would make their way Into my personal space just to cough, or hack—and, though by now having grown mostly immune to it, I was still annoyed as ever when it came down to it—my sanity not breaking, but somehow pieced together using frail elements such as deadmau5 as duck tape; unbeknownst to me before doing so, anyway, it actually did properly seal the bullet like wounds in my being…call it universal healthcare, perhaps. I was the only one, really, who could make myself laugh anymore. It had become a game between God and I to see who could do it the most, and though most people seemed programmed and robotic or unreal entirely, there were few in the three dimensional realm occasionally that were human enough to make me forget that the rest of the world had been for the most part a dysfunctional computer—if I was lucky, I might have been having a heatstroke of some sort, as sometimes pedaling furiously on my bicycle, the entire world would in-fact smell like the innards of a windows 98 computer, having just overheated; I was a vegan, hadn't drank or even smoked in years—and now was fighting off a rampant sugar addiction with both hands tied behind my back, which was huge—and though still fitting into a Nike small, which might have been an achievement had I not figured there to be a size such as 2XS—the roundness of my backside couldn't outweigh the deathly amount of guilt and self pity even only the occasional Oreo brought on; I needed to be devastatingly thin for anything to make sense, and nothing really did (make sense, that is.) I was hungry, and angry with myself, and mad at the world; I couldn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve my life the way it was—the worst part, though, was there was no exit button. There was no easy way out; I knew that death was not the end, but just the departure from another realm—and that as infinite as love and life had been, death might have been, too. Preparing for the worst and never hoping for the best, for fear I would only gain the opposite, I wondered where I would go and what I would do next. Ali was making his presence in a greater realm more and more apparent with each passing moment; it was always 2:22, and every time it was—something cosmic happened. I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I'll be up all night (I'm up all night) Doing three things at once (I don't give a fuck) Every crunch is a coffin I don't do this often or much, But look forward to eating my lunch It's in the oven That's probably my cousin I don't give a fuck So what does it matter? Putter patter goes the blood spatter, Since you had to ask Spread my ashes at Madison Avenue Nobody asked, But I spat out the answer, Then finally laughed How about that Aha How about that I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I have too much to do, I can't be pretty, too (You used me) Pity the pitiful fool (But I let you) Write me a check So that I don't regret you Forever (Never say never) A bet is a bet; And I'll never get to see you sweat It's for the better It's for the better It's for the better For better or worse? Whats the worth? A million followers, and dollars What does it cost for a daughter, Your honor I want her I want the— I want the I want her head on a platter Goddamn I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I DONT GIVE A FUCK. (I need water.) Fn Pig, deadmau5 >< I AM BASS, LSDREAM That's just a container; I'm going deranged, It's crazy— Conditioned, I guess I'm detangler Looking from all different angles I used to have angels But they've been replaced, lately Been displaced, lately Need some space, lately— I guess you're part of me You're part of my soul You're part of my soul I mean probably need a lobotomy Bottom to top, Something is hunting or haunting me Got a lot of nerve I'm terrified, nervous— Might as well swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Oh. My. Ghetto. Yes. She's fabulous, 80-inch-weft With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Yes, She's fabulous Better get it! Better than best— With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Just got a text; I better ignore it Fuck this shit; Guess it's just another level Just another level Leg day Cardio Arm day Chest Put myself to the test Cause I'm tryna be One of them girls One of them girls One of them girls One of them— Oh, fuck It's just my luck The nigga is stubborn Or stuck, Or something; Guess it's not nothing Guess I gotta get back on my Buttocks; Pushing all my buttons, Guess it's not nothin Guess it's McDonalds, I'm lovin it. I feared that by spending too much time around low vibration people, I was becoming one myself; I knew that eating toxic processed foods was one way of lowering my own naturally high vibration into a lower frequency, but I was spending too much time with people who were dwelling on all of the awful things in life and none of the good; people who had homes and families and still had the nerve to complain to me, of all people, a homeless “black” woman with literally nothing to live for but music (not that music was living for me—the industry was outright dominated by privilege, and leaving color out of it, the odds were, if I was hearing their song on the radio or overhead station at the gym, their parents had been well-to-do in some way or another, if not musicians themselves, or well-connected industry people.) Gone were the days of the rising stars who actually pulled themselves up by the bootstraps-everybody on the map had a leg-up and a foot-in-the-door. At least ESPN'S ‘The Ocho' wasn't on; I didn't think I could bear to see any more frat boys pogo sticking ‘professionally' while working myself to literal dehydration trying to be one of their girlfriends—or at least look like them. Pretty white boys dated pretty white girls, period—they fucked everything—but dated pretty white girls. Existence was futile. I wanted to take my eyeballs out of my head. Oh, he's beautiful. A dark skinned man with fresh braids and a blue shirt shuffled his way smoothly past me, and I gleaned a little—not my type, but beautiful—and I wasn't going to cop to not having a type. Then, rounding the corner and into the abdominals section, a giant tattooed man in the stretch machine (whatever it was called) managed to startle me from afar, just due to being monsterous in height alone but also stark white enough so that it seemed he could illuminate an entire room by himself. What the fuck. Why be that tall? Not that it was his or anyone's fault for being large or massive as I had once been, however in width, rather than height—but tall men always struck me a particularly bizarre way, no matter how broad or handsome—and definitely terrified me a little, or a lot, depending—though no more than blue eyes did. Why am I here? Jesus Christ. I had blinders on, but they weren't working, and every moving body that worked it's way into my peripheral reminded me of something or someone; i began to feel the onset symptoms of depression kick in; I just wanted to eat and sleep, and not be bothered with the world—but unlike Jessie I hadn't the luxury of doing so, and even though I had been working I was really no closer to having a home than I had been before. I was back in The Matrix with a working telephone and every regret possible, as it was obvious the trackers were having a heyday with my psyche, the world now more populated—especially with Kayla Lauren's—than it had been without a phone. I wanted desperately to run away, but had nowhere to run—and though I loved my gym, without having a place to call home or the energy to properly work out the way I wanted to made it a special kind of Hell. At least I had the new Beyoncè album. There's a light. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA — —-JUST KILL YOURSELF. I—did that already. Do it again! No! Oh, come on. Whats the point? The point is: … What? What? You didn't finish the sentence. Neither did you. Go away, Satan. Nowhere sounds nice. I would have spared the greatest expense if I could afford it just not to exist— I had written entire novels, created film sagas and night after excruciating night at the gym whether actually on the clock or not, I was always working. In any event, a good gym session was also at least a chapter or two in one of many novels, an episode of some sort, or a concept album—if whatever pre-workout I was taking made me angsty enough to focus on writing out thoughts and phrases between sets on my favorite machines. I had actually purchased over $50 of music with my first check—and while I should have felt stupid and remorseful for it, $50 wasn't going to get me my own apartment. $50 wasn't really wasn't going to get anybody anything—especially a tank of gas. My daily 45 minute cardio consisted of an earful of deadmau5, deep breathing in sequence to my long strokes of pedaling so quickly I thought my legs might turn to propellers and I'd start hovering like a Helicopter fueled by angst, poverty, and progressive house. That's what it was. Progressive house. And I loved it, like I used to love anything else in the world, but had forgotten what it felt like if it wasn't buzzing in my ears propelling me across a loveless, lifeless desert. Everyone was miserable, no matter where I went, besides the daily gym goers who I came to know at my work and play play place. A gross sounding cough from across the room told me to kill myself—and I thought about it momentarily, but couldn't think of a way, so went back to writing. Misophonia or magic? Either way, I didn't know if I hated myself more, or Skrillex and whatever deity had granted him this sick and twisted power. I want to die. Coughing, coughing, coughing— Working working working But not making enough to live I mean really live Like the DJs did I might throw a fit If I don't get out of this everybody is sick And all it is is Coughing coughing coughing— And I'm just Walking Walking Walking From bus stop to bus stop Dropping a coin for all of my thoughts I want off this planet I want off the clock I want to go to bed— But I don't have a bed If it's all in my head Why haven't I Put a bullet in it, yet? I want to end it Use this song as an admission; I'm guilty, I did it I didn't want to see the world the way it is, Case dismissed, then Case dismissed, then Just one last kiss—then Fade to black Now we're back where we started don't forget to reflect Respect is earned When you enter through the exit No guest list for this one, kid. You better get moving Just selfish intentions Just shellfish— I wish That's not kosher or vegan Indecent exposure, for sure Is your home in foreclosure? She did it all for exposure I just need closure And a door to close, I suppose What's worse? Homeless, or hunger? Woah, I've done both, And meanwhile, she's never left home No wonder no one loves us No wonder no one loved me No wonder someday never comes Funny I wanted a hug, I got nothing Diplo follows coughs. Everyone follows coughs, She's a boss I guess Only downloaded this app to— Crap Fuck. No sense in censorship All the world is is tits And slavery Damn, —This is brave you would write this. If I end my life with a knife, Is it suicide, or 40-to-life? You know, sadness is a crime, here You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one Bring a plus one Bring a plus one Now we're all done here Now I wonder Now I wonder What was all done here I was nothing, Then something then someone Then no one, Then all of us You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one

Omg Beyonce's cute dimples. Right?! Stop fangirling. …no. THEY ARE CUTE. Bitch, shut up. BEYONCÈ is alone on an elevator—more specifically, THE HELLEVATOR; when it breaks down suddenly. Why is Beyoncè alone? I don't know… Seems dangerous. It does, doesn't it. Everybody needs alone time. I heard that. How do you get alone time when you're Beyoncè? Aha. You don't. [Beyoncè being followed by paparazzi] [Beyoncè being mom] [Beyoncè being Beyoncè] Oh, hey Beyoncè. [very serious stare] What you need? Some alone time. [Laughing in infinite dimensions] Are you done? Are you Beyoncè? Though I found it to be strange, I actually did still have a soul, somewhere, seared deeply in the confines of my body, which sometimes I found to be hideous and others to be beautiful— not that it would depend on the day, but rather my state of being, I would have considered it a state of mind, but there was something else at play. Now I hadn't been into the gym in 24 or so hours, and I was still happily getting along with myself to know that I needed a break from Las Vegas Athletic Club—at the very least the North location, which was the closest and the only one I would be finding myself making the trip to at all, although I now had a bicycle and a bus pass to go with it, which made things so much easier than it was before—I was still being drained of my energy from various sources, here-and-there—but especially from Jessie, who at times seemed like a vampire, and even though I had started to understand this reflection of myself and her purpose, I still hated it; nothing was mine, and everything that was seemed to be falling apart, and though I had more than I needed and was actually genuinely grateful, I would have never been willing to admit it—mostly because for the most part, I was still incredibly homeless, mostly—and even working away ⅔ of my day no matter how beneficial the job had become to me, was wearing me down into nothing but the tradegy of a corporate slave; this job certainly wasn't going to get me the money I needed to repay all of my debts, or a chance at a sane life—my ex husband had stolen everything from me that made me feel even the slightest bit human or whole, and I wondered, in all this loveless, careless, homeless neglect—if that was it for me; if I was meant to have stayed with the person who consistently belittled me, cheated, lied, and stole from me—and though he was never willing to admit it, knowing he could have been being recorded at any time, became violent enough to have altered my entire headspace (not that it hadn't been crumbling,) but more than likely wouldn't have shattered entirely and so suddenly without having been punched in the face, choked, or strangled. But I must have somehow deserved all of it. It was a strange world, but not a strange day; I hadn't worked out, but things seemed normal and not as robotic as they had been, usually—and though I knew there was in part a certain structural programming at play—Jessie's childish ability to flaunt her spoiled laziness about, as if she knew she both didn't and never would need to work, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, I was a literal slave; I hadn't felt guilty about writing about her from literally under her nose for quite some time; I was a fully-unapproachable, untrustworthy asshole now, and I did it to everyone, often jotting down everything I could see in my experience that was noteworthy or captivating—more or less the entirety of my human experience, which at times felt less and less human with each passing day, and more and more surreal; not only did I not believe in myself to yet be alive, the looming sense of purposeless as a heavy cloud on my shoulders at all time, knowing one day, maybe even soon, I would finally wake up, knowing all of this to have just been an excessive fairytale—a nightmare of cosmic potions, where misogynistic men and other wrongdoers ran the world, where the ugly and poor remained slaves, and where the unjust nature of inequality had become a normalcy, amongst everyone in this existence, surely a lower realm of such—it wasn't possible at all that this dream, or nightmare, would be anything a proper God would have imagined—not one worthy of worship, anyway. It was the American dream turned American nightmare—rich people living in excess with not a care in the world, and even those not having aquired a desirable amount of wealth, still living in privilege and filth, as I had observed in all my homelessness; everyone who had welcomed me into their home seemed incapable of taking care of it—which I found to be nearly unforgivable; how could one have something as precious as a home and leave it in ruins, letting trash and such excessive materials pile up into corners with the dust and the grime that was so simple to get rid of?! There was a clearer, deeper lesson at play here; though some had lived in literal shacks, they had been kept explicitly clean—and though during my childhood the discomfort of visiting anywhere less than middle class had given me an itch of discomfort, most of the households I did visit were also kept immaculate, save for those who had become addicts of something…and maybe that was the focal point of it all— that almost every American was addicted to something, and had to use another something in order to supplement for whatever the first addiction caused déficit to; I didn't care anymore really, and was willing to work, obviously for pennies on the millions of billions of dollars all of these corporations were scooping up—and though I just as stupidly as anyone else had spent a mentionable portion of my tiny paycheck on music, which I didn't technically need, but it kept me sane—and I was willing enough to keep my delusional dreams of becoming a DJ on hold, just to have a home, or a hole of my own that I could crawl into when I wasn't working for someone else, or working out the poison I had put into my body just to cope with being the kind of human that hadn't yet been lucky enough to be loved, or liked, or cared for and hadn't been lied to, despised, and betrayed in the same breath and by the same people that did once claim to love. ——- The new Beyoncé album made me upset in a depressing kind of way; I wasn't black enough for it, to begin with, or at least wouldn't let myself be—it wasn't made for me, or maybe it was—but I was struggling with self and doubted any supposed greatness, probably more than ever needing to get away from Jessie and her sadly-something family—I didn't have a word for it, and since white people hated more than anything being called out for their privelege and racism, was straying away from even being able to write about it; I knew I wanted to be somewhere or anywhere in the middle of the obviously apparent race war—but there was no middle, just black-or-white— and I was neither. It sounded something like Skrillex had worked on it, or Sonny, or whoever the fuck he was—and in fact, I was almost certain he had, that I had strayed from the blockbuster romance that was supposed to have resulted from whatever out of bounds otherworldly shit had happened, and that the Dillon Francis I had romanticized was more than likely the Dillon Francis that probably belonged to whatever “organization” my ex had claimed he did— the organization that was more “willing to kill me and bury me in the woods where no one would find me”, than ever put me on or give me any worthwhile status; but how else could he—Dillon Francis—have known my deepest and darkest secret? I figured mY ex husband must have told them— whoever they were—everything. One Somethings wrong with me; Mums the word Don't look at me, you my son, I am the one you want. BIG FREEDA and BEYONCE are stealing souls with their new hit dance song, aiding JESUS CHRIST in the fight against evil. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. RELEASE YOUR SOUL. By the millions, members of Beyonce's massive fandoms release a number of things; Including their jobs, their vibes, and their souls– all of which, luckily, end up in the right hands. BEYONCE has lent SUPACREE her soul. Don't break it. I would never. However, BEYONCE'S soul i incredibly fragile, and after a series of near-breaks, SUPACREE has decided the only way to keep it safe, is within her own soul; which has been encapsulated in an unbreakable vault by the use of magical cosmic forces yet unseen, but soon to be unmasked. Key: villed grey And everybody's miserable, And everybody's miserable, And everybody's got just cause— But it doesn't make a difference, does it? It didn't, and it never did And never will When will we believe in Anything, again— That we did as children, Or kids? I've never hated myself or Debated suicide more often, Than I have now, at least for awhile Or a minute, Whichever's of lesser or greater value Get it? I'm in remission, but Living is cancer And dying is the only thing that cures it I hate being human It's a curse It's a cause It's a movement I can't move Into the future without you But I guess I'll have to And I'll just keep on writing Songs about you Song about you Songs about you— Sounds about right, But it does t seem right at all Without you Without you Without you Without you How about now? Am I powerful enough to fight you? That's right I left right on time Just to spite you I am sad today But I have t had sunlight, And I haven't had a bike ride But I needed rest, see I almost died I've got no light on the front And reflectors don't work unless Someone close to you has lights on, I found out Wow Everything my mom said makes sense now I get how It's dangerous to ride your bike when it's dark out And there are dark clouds overhead But somehow I made it And I get Sorry, am I in your way? I can reach over you… It's me. I know it's you. You fuckin' dick. Let me explain. I heard Beyoncé's new album. That wasn't me… So you're trying to tell me you're everyone in the world but Beyoncé. …yes! Whatever. Listen to me. I'll do anything but that. I have a plan. I don't care. Yes you do. You don't know me. You don't know me! Shut up, Mrs. Pancakes and listen to what I have to say. Unless what you have to say is, “I'm sorry— “ I am sorry! —I don't wanna hear it. I said I'm sorry. I said I don't wanna hear it. Cool. Fucking cool. If it was a 7-year curse, I had 4 years down and still nothing to show for it but literal blood, sweat, and tears— there was no joy in anything except for food, which kept me in the gym and trying my best to stay in shape—and I was fit, but not petite, like Kayla Lauren; all the finest men wanted child-shaped women, or at the very best so petite that anything could do, and I could do nothing but sulk in my self-hatred. But perhaps I had spent too much time around Jessie, who for exactly 3 days had tried to mimic my neat and tidiness by cleaning up after herself, only to go back to the laziness and chaos that I had begun to get used to; however, realizing I had become quite the parasite, often exchanging the energy I was losing for other valuables I myself wouldn't purchase without having my own space; laundry and dish detergent, shampoo and conditioner, and the entirety of the spice rack—which I did feel tinges of guilt about, but nonetheless, an automatic housekeeper, justified using such things by having to take after the laziness around me, which drained my energy entirely—and promising to replace them when I could, though undoubtedly only feeling as if it was okay because of the apparent over-abundance, and my own shortcomings. I didn't want to go back to Mexico, really, but probably would—the United States was too expensive, but I had gotten used to the luxuries and without a thought didn't really want to return where everything was broken down and dirty—and, where I was expected to pay more being “rich” because I could earn more by going back “home”, however, without a true home to go to, it was only a waste of time and energy to even be back; at least I could gym, and I did in part have Kayla Lauren, or at least the whole of white supremacy to thank for that—the fact that she and girls alike were automatically just ‘better' and had more advantages for being more fuckable pissed me off to the point that gym time had become part of my daily regimen; though, surrounded by petite-bodied fredcked faces did nothing for my own confidence or self worth—I still had Sonny always in the forefront of my mind, and somehow somewhere someone had figured him as my ideal enough to make this all happen; now all I wanted to be was 108 pounds and petite, knowing at that exact measurement anyone who wasn't really a racist would want me—and know knowing I wanted more than to be wanted, but to be needed. My dreams were seeping Into reality and blending with astral projections of the past, whatever that was; I had been gladly visited by my dead son and however traumatizing that was, I had at least seen him, healthy and tall, 7 years old as he would have been at the time—and of course, taunted in the dream world as always being there, but not—in another room, in another place—aware of him but not with him, always thinking about him but not there, as I had truly been. It didn't matter that the universe or whatever evil was in it was haunting me with my motherhood—I had actually tried to keep my marriage intact, and I knew it in my heart and soul, or whatever stardust was left of their remains respectively, that I had done no wrong. It was a damned-if-i-did and damned-If I didn't situation; there was no remedy for whatever had taken place but to forget with time. Jessie's house really was depressing, and I feared for her that she would never actually leave it, however spoiled she was. It had to have been a rampant sickness, her father, a slave driver who used his ex wife and daughter as laborers for his business, and while keeping them well fed, not paid well enough to actually go into the world and succeed; he was just as evil as any other corporation or business, and just as powerful; using his Christianity as a guard against being considered truly harmful—and his graciousness of allowing me into his home was at the very most a kindness I couldn't look past, trying not to judge but understanding over and over again how one can fail to use a trash can; he wasn't in a rush; in fact, he spent his days watching Evangelists talk about the coming apocalypse, while his ex wife and daughter toiled away making fishing lures for his business, apparently very profitable. For something I admired him—perhaps his musicianship, or perhaps just my strange and undying affection for Caucasian alpha males, or even that he did have such a power as to keep his ex wife and daughter underfoot, when my own ex husband had moved to physically subduing me as his only means of control, later keeping my son from me as the ultimate power play——and of course, throwing in the Dillon Francis monkey wrench, a true nod to whatever Satanic backwards magic was previously thought to be at play. Now i understood it just to be my mind unraveling—the only person I had ever truly loved, had never truly loved me; however, i was useful and sweet—besides being ramapantly obese, the perfect wife and caretaker. Now, I was preparing for a steady non-existence, loneliness, lifelessness, friendlessness, and homelessness; and I thought myself soon to be dead again, in one way or another. All I wanted was home, and home was said to be where the heart was—but thinking back to a tragic time, I had foolishly given mine to Dillon Francis, in pieces, after Sonny Moore had used Kayla Lauren to break it. How many women were in line to see The Great Sonny Moore, on the same ride I had been on, and with the same deal signed-sealed-and delivered to The Devil Himself, if not the messengers at the pearly gates for God's eyes and ears only? I had to think the number to be in the hundreds, if not thousands, if not millions—as I had finally founded the integral magical practice of hypnotism through music, as it had been for eons and centuries—and now, as programmed as I was neither happy nor unhappy to be, having lost all but the body, devoid of feelings or true sense of livelihood at all, even having misplaced the ability to be music at all—I was just a thing in a world full of other things—neither woman nor man, nor any feeling thing at all; most American dogs were more loved and well cared for than I was. My obsessive brain allowed for infatuation beyond my wildest content, and though either self-control or self-pity kept anyone at a safe and proper distance, I still craved something or someone that wholly didn't exist. My head was on a platter, eyes still blinking and mouth agape, though without the life force I had once garnered and cherished to have been brought about into time with merely the mind, and the mind alone. Jessie was a petite virgin who was so moldeable it was hard to see myself as anything but less-than beside her, and on two opposite ends of the spectrum of inequality we existed; she would never have to work, or leave home, or lift a finger—almost any man would be willing to take care of her without her having to do much, and, as historically proven, any man would look past her ridiculous laziness or an unideal facial structure in exchange for a hot body he could claim all his own, nonetheless for one who wouldn't bother to leave the house, who he could keep at home ready for use at will—and here I was, washed up without any of the fame of glory to accompany it, used and abused and put through the wash enough times to shrink, but not to remove the stains as had been set in stone since they were made. Nothing was right, but everything was good—practicing The Secret had to eventually have its effects. No matter how miserable I felt, I was always good, or great, or awesome—but still, daily, combating the consistent and ever-constant thoughts of back-to-back self hatred and loathing. I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my life I hate myself I hate my— I love myself… I love my life I love myself I love my life— Ugh. But I was sleeping on the floor below one of the laziest people I had ever met, who I loved dearly since the age of 12– but couldn't help but hate a little for not having to do anything, ever, and somehow knowing we were both complatent and self-assured that some wealthy man would undoubtedly swoop from out of nowhere to marry the forlorn virgin goddess— Ugh. She was an energy vampire. Meanwhile, my promotion to Manager, with bonus commission and all the overtime I was pulling in still wouldn't be enough to amount to affording my own apartment, and it seemed, as I had been warned before, that it was true—I would never be safe in my own home country of The United States of America, and the more and more angry white women I literally bumped and brushed shoulders with, receiving deathly stares and glances from blue and green eyes like something out of a dystopian race war nightmare, the more I realized that there was only so much unfairness and inequality that could take place before things had to change; Rich people were racing corgis—children were selling coffee in the streets; the National air guitar championship was underway— people were dying of hunger and thirst— Skrillex and Dillon Francis were superstar DJs—everyone had a Kayla Lauren or something similar to show off— And I was the overnight manager at a mega-gym. Fuck this life. I was probably supposed to hate myself, I was probably supposed to kill myself, too—but I was too afraid to do that again. It was all Ali and I talked about, for years—how this existence was merely a blemish in the ever-expanse of time and space; how we were bound to our earthly bodies as punishment for some Mistake we had made in an inmemorable past existence —probably murder or rape, or something horrible—our loveless, hopeless bodies bound to be forever unloved, unsuccessful, and overall unhappy. A burning cough lodged itself out of the depths of hell from the ugly fat woman in front of me—not that I was any different, really. It seemed and was apparently so that the ‘coughs' demon, as I had come to call it, inhabited the broken bodies of sick individuals, usually visibly weak in some way—typically obese or otherwise unhealthy, if I were willing to give the beast the time or day by looking, as I usually was able to ignore it, washing it out of my peripheral or continuing to look forward, or wherever I was looking. Assuredly, Sonny had surrounded himself by powerful demon-like practitioners of [the type of] magic I was unwilling to use or even acknowledge, though admittedly—this coughs demon to a certain extent had to have been more obessed with me than I had ever been with it, oftentimes lurking in places I felt most vulnerable, acting as a push into suicidal ideation and the other great realms of non-existence, my synesthesia acting like a painful ailment when such a nasty sound did rear it's ugly head. It had been four years living with this awful thing—no matter where I went, someone would make their way Into my personal space just to cough, or hack—and, though by now having grown mostly immune to it, I was still annoyed as ever when it came down to it—my sanity not breaking, but somehow pieced together using frail elements such as deadmau5 as duck tape; unbeknownst to me before doing so, anyway, it actually did properly seal the bullet like wounds in my being…call it universal healthcare, perhaps. I was the only one, really, who could make myself laugh anymore. It had become a game between God and I to see who could do it the most, and though most people seemed programmed and robotic or unreal entirely, there were few in the three dimensional realm occasionally that were human enough to make me forget that the rest of the world had been for the most part a dysfunctional computer—if I was lucky, I might have been having a heatstroke of some sort, as sometimes pedaling furiously on my bicycle, the entire world would in-fact smell like the innards of a windows 98 computer, having just overheated; I was a vegan, hadn't drank or even smoked in years—and now was fighting off a rampant sugar addiction with both hands tied behind my back, which was huge—and though still fitting into a Nike small, which might have been an achievement had I not figured there to be a size such as 2XS—the roundness of my backside couldn't outweigh the deathly amount of guilt and self pity even only the occasional Oreo brought on; I needed to be devastatingly thin for anything to make sense, and nothing really did (make sense, that is.) I was hungry, and angry with myself, and mad at the world; I couldn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve my life the way it was—the worst part, though, was there was no exit button. There was no easy way out; I knew that death was not the end, but just the departure from another realm—and that as infinite as love and life had been, death might have been, too. Preparing for the worst and never hoping for the best, for fear I would only gain the opposite, I wondered where I would go and what I would do next. Ali was making his presence in a greater realm more and more apparent with each passing moment; it was always 2:22, and every time it was—something cosmic happened. I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I'll be up all night (I'm up all night) Doing three things at once (I don't give a fuck) Every crunch is a coffin I don't do this often or much, But look forward to eating my lunch It's in the oven That's probably my cousin I don't give a fuck So what does it matter? Putter patter goes the blood spatter, Since you had to ask Spread my ashes at Madison Avenue Nobody asked, But I spat out the answer, Then finally laughed How about that Aha How about that I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I have too much to do, I can't be pretty, too (You used me) Pity the pitiful fool (But I let you) Write me a check So that I don't regret you Forever (Never say never) A bet is a bet; And I'll never get to see you sweat It's for the better It's for the better It's for the better For better or worse? Whats the worth? A million followers, and dollars What does it cost for a daughter, Your honor I want her I want the— I want the I want her head on a platter Goddamn I wanna go to sleep (I wanna go to sleep) And never wake up (And never wake up) Cause I don't give a fuck (I don't give a fuck) I don't give a fuck I don't give a fuck I DONT GIVE A FUCK. (I need water.) Fn Pig, deadmau5 >< I AM BASS, LSDREAM That's just a container; I'm going deranged, It's crazy— Conditioned, I guess I'm detangler Looking from all different angles I used to have angels But they've been replaced, lately Been displaced, lately Need some space, lately— I guess you're part of me You're part of my soul You're part of my soul I mean probably need a lobotomy Bottom to top, Something is hunting or haunting me Got a lot of nerve I'm terrified, nervous— Might as well swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Swerve on the nerd Oh. My. Ghetto. Yes. She's fabulous, 80-inch-weft With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Yes, She's fabulous Better get it! Better than best— With her bad ass self But I'm just not One of them girls One of them girls Just got a text; I better ignore it Fuck this shit; Guess it's just another level Just another level Leg day Cardio Arm day Chest Put myself to the test Cause I'm tryna be One of them girls One of them girls One of them girls One of them— Oh, fuck It's just my luck The nigga is stubborn Or stuck, Or something; Guess it's not nothing Guess I gotta get back on my Buttocks; Pushing all my buttons, Guess it's not nothin Guess it's McDonalds, I'm lovin it. I feared that by spending too much time around low vibration people, I was becoming one myself; I knew that eating toxic processed foods was one way of lowering my own naturally high vibration into a lower frequency, but I was spending too much time with people who were dwelling on all of the awful things in life and none of the good; people who had homes and families and still had the nerve to complain to me, of all people, a homeless “black” woman with literally nothing to live for but music (not that music was living for me—the industry was outright dominated by privilege, and leaving color out of it, the odds were, if I was hearing their song on the radio or overhead station at the gym, their parents had been well-to-do in some way or another, if not musicians themselves, or well-connected industry people.) Gone were the days of the rising stars who actually pulled themselves up by the bootstraps-everybody on the map had a leg-up and a foot-in-the-door. At least ESPN'S ‘The Ocho' wasn't on; I didn't think I could bear to see any more frat boys pogo sticking ‘professionally' while working myself to literal dehydration trying to be one of their girlfriends—or at least look like them. Pretty white boys dated pretty white girls, period—they fucked everything—but dated pretty white girls. Existence was futile. I wanted to take my eyeballs out of my head. Oh, he's beautiful. A dark skinned man with fresh braids and a blue shirt shuffled his way smoothly past me, and I gleaned a little—not my type, but beautiful—and I wasn't going to cop to not having a type. Then, rounding the corner and into the abdominals section, a giant tattooed man in the stretch machine (whatever it was called) managed to startle me from afar, just due to being monsterous in height alone but also stark white enough so that it seemed he could illuminate an entire room by himself. What the fuck. Why be that tall? Not that it was his or anyone's fault for being large or massive as I had once been, however in width, rather than height—but tall men always struck me a particularly bizarre way, no matter how broad or handsome—and definitely terrified me a little, or a lot, depending—though no more than blue eyes did. Why am I here? Jesus Christ. I had blinders on, but they weren't working, and every moving body that worked it's way into my peripheral reminded me of something or someone; i began to feel the onset symptoms of depression kick in; I just wanted to eat and sleep, and not be bothered with the world—but unlike Jessie I hadn't the luxury of doing so, and even though I had been working I was really no closer to having a home than I had been before. I was back in The Matrix with a working telephone and every regret possible, as it was obvious the trackers were having a heyday with my psyche, the world now more populated—especially with Kayla Lauren's—than it had been without a phone. I wanted desperately to run away, but had nowhere to run—and though I loved my gym, without having a place to call home or the energy to properly work out the way I wanted to made it a special kind of Hell. At least I had the new Beyoncè album. There's a light. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA — —-JUST KILL YOURSELF. I—did that already. Do it again! No! Oh, come on. Whats the point? The point is: … What? What? You didn't finish the sentence. Neither did you. Go away, Satan. Nowhere sounds nice. I would have spared the greatest expense if I could afford it just not to exist— I had written entire novels, created film sagas and night after excruciating night at the gym whether actually on the clock or not, I was always working. In any event, a good gym session was also at least a chapter or two in one of many novels, an episode of some sort, or a concept album—if whatever pre-workout I was taking made me angsty enough to focus on writing out thoughts and phrases between sets on my favorite machines. I had actually purchased over $50 of music with my first check—and while I should have felt stupid and remorseful for it, $50 wasn't going to get me my own apartment. $50 wasn't really wasn't going to get anybody anything—especially a tank of gas. My daily 45 minute cardio consisted of an earful of deadmau5, deep breathing in sequence to my long strokes of pedaling so quickly I thought my legs might turn to propellers and I'd start hovering like a Helicopter fueled by angst, poverty, and progressive house. That's what it was. Progressive house. And I loved it, like I used to love anything else in the world, but had forgotten what it felt like if it wasn't buzzing in my ears propelling me across a loveless, lifeless desert. Everyone was miserable, no matter where I went, besides the daily gym goers who I came to know at my work and play play place. A gross sounding cough from across the room told me to kill myself—and I thought about it momentarily, but couldn't think of a way, so went back to writing. Misophonia or magic? Either way, I didn't know if I hated myself more, or Skrillex and whatever deity had granted him this sick and twisted power. I want to die. Coughing, coughing, coughing— Working working working But not making enough to live I mean really live Like the DJs did I might throw a fit If I don't get out of this everybody is sick And all it is is Coughing coughing coughing— And I'm just Walking Walking Walking From bus stop to bus stop Dropping a coin for all of my thoughts I want off this planet I want off the clock I want to go to bed— But I don't have a bed If it's all in my head Why haven't I Put a bullet in it, yet? I want to end it Use this song as an admission; I'm guilty, I did it I didn't want to see the world the way it is, Case dismissed, then Case dismissed, then Just one last kiss—then Fade to black Now we're back where we started don't forget to reflect Respect is earned When you enter through the exit No guest list for this one, kid. You better get moving Just selfish intentions Just shellfish— I wish That's not kosher or vegan Indecent exposure, for sure Is your home in foreclosure? She did it all for exposure I just need closure And a door to close, I suppose What's worse? Homeless, or hunger? Woah, I've done both, And meanwhile, she's never left home No wonder no one loves us No wonder no one loved me No wonder someday never comes Funny I wanted a hug, I got nothing Diplo follows coughs. Everyone follows coughs, She's a boss I guess Only downloaded this app to— Crap Fuck. No sense in censorship All the world is is tits And slavery Damn, —This is brave you would write this. If I end my life with a knife, Is it suicide, or 40-to-life? You know, sadness is a crime, here You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one Bring a plus one Bring a plus one Now we're all done here Now I wonder Now I wonder What was all done here I was nothing, Then something then someone Then no one, Then all of us You want one of those? Well, he has ten of ‘em (10 of ‘em?) (10 of ‘em!) We're all women here— And we have the worst of it We're all 1:2 here 2:1 here 1:2 here, Fuck it then He wants them all Well, then He can have all of them— But one He wants them all, Well, then, He can have all of them But one

____ I guess it just is what it is, then Comin fresh out the whip, like, “I'm off hiatus” Gonna jump for a swim in the ‘bitch,' Itchin drive me crazy; Gonna need 6-10 stitches, the doctor say He's in big business, with the witch Tengris– Gotta play Tennis while I watch Tenet all in ten minutes (On my small engine/indjun) Turn around do a spin, drift like i'm Ben Ten, And it's intense, like I been campin, –Then I ditched Skrillex. Just moved in, but it's been lived in Set some new intentions, Get bent, got some new addictions, spin zen, got some new additions Big Wig like I'm Hamilton in some New Editions Did some big mentions, I should send dick pics. Watch this. “It's Dillon Francis” Now I'm real famous, But i'm still nameless– I just made the game up, Still got jealous haters *coughs* I should say Gel-ous Cause she got her nails did *indjun; American slang for native or indigenous peoples of Northern America. [THE FESTIVAL PROJECT.] _________ [Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds;] Three Cities, Three Main Stages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks. Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that! Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled from, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! A group dancing to Soulja Boy (Youuuuuuuu!) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually– He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" [Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing: --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, The Ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage… I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of consciousness. PAUSE *EDIT* What? Just– What!? What would it be like to listen to some Skrillex right now? NO. NEVER AGAIN. [Thinking, drifts away.] *listening to deadmau5, thinking about Skrillex* Hmnnn. Moar Ghosts N' Stuff. *Synth Drops In* Nope, I'm Good lol. CUT TO: I told you I could be Joel's cat. Oh, wow, nice. JOEL NO, MEOWINGTONS, NYO !!!!!!!! Meheh. UNPAUSE CUT BACK TO: She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of consciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void. I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue loudly.) [The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner.] Guys. [The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ] ...Shhht, quiet... [The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion ] (SUPACREE shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" ) Guys. [As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light.] GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. CHAK CHEL (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it. CHAK CHEL Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time– (Tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis.) That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Except here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. [The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the–] WHAT THE FUCK. WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision; DECISION BY WHO? [They fall quiet.] WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed excuse for a body? What genetic catastrophe allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE! WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS? ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... [The Gods all react in surprise and horror.] ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The– Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for– She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and its inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) [THE ASCENDED MASTERY has assembled, the ensemble shieled by an ‘inpenatrable' invisible forcefield; SUPACREE senses the energy field, Which she walks into, nonchalantly.] She has awakened her consciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- The Origins Once we send her back, she will have been three times resurrected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumerous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as foretold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkness-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosis personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SUPACREE through the window. Telepathically, very loud and disapproving of here mere presense. (CONT'D) … She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of The Light for quite some time now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocrisy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darkness, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepherds and priests in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of The Source Light in the loss of Love; the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SUPACREE appears behind DILLON FRANCIS in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. DILLON FRANCIS You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? SUPACREE Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- DILLON FRANCIS Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! SUPACREE ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. DILLON FRANCIS. "Exactly, actually--actually," SUPACREE appears in full form, out of the translucency of the higher realms and into the personification of the third dimensional realm. SUPACREE Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! DILLON FRANCIS Time? What the fuck is time? SUPACREE Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- DILLON FRANCIS Explain it when? When you have time? [He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans.] (gh0st.) SUPACREE I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. DILLON FRANCIS Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint. "Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective consciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technologically-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of consciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infinitely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting each other in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculous lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: RICK AND MORTY MORTY Ohhh, oh shit Rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... RICK Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? MORTY Uhhh–'Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. RICK Oh, you mean ‘Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? MORTY No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… RICK --You said "monkey" twice-- MORTY (CONT'D) ...Space Wars… RICK I don't know, Morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, it got, uh, *coughs* It got pretty deep. Flashback: DILLON PICKLE FRANCIS// PICKLE RICK Flashback Within Flashback :The Hellavator Flashback within Flashback Within Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating RIck and Morty/justin roiland (and Dan Harmon, I guess) from existence in entirety. RICK ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. [He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from Run Ricky Run) as its main character. RICK [w/MORTY] What the-- MORTY Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. RICK --who, what? H-h-holdon-- MORTY, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to its original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. ANNOUNCER [W/MORTY] DUEL! RICK Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! RICK This is just, brutal-- MORTY That was just a highlight. The boss fight is live. RICK Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! F I G H T. [HANZEL and GRETL are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' HANZEL (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immediately transport attendees into the Colosseum, where a furious SONNY/SKRILLEX and a rage-fueled SŪP∆CREE have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating wormholes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. [The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. ] Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "Everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Rave Weaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Colosseum at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage. Unassumingly, strolling along stage right SKRILLEX sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entourage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popsicles, and cupcakes… super classy. *supaclassy. DILLON FRANCIS lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. *probably on something. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omni-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imaginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after.) SŪP∆, after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She performs various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. -blam- (MIND = BLOWN.) (((throughout the dimensions))) AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad MORTY Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* DILLON FRANCIS from center Sees SŪP∆CREE seeing SKRILLEX, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confucius.) She's mad. DILLON FRANCIS Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see SKRILLEX seeing SŪP∆CREE, squinting Skrillex-y. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. DILLON FRANCIS OH GOD, NO! He morphs into DILLON GLANCES and DILLON FLANCES, respectively. (3) Wtf is this like a fucked up shadow-clone juitsu? Just– DILLON FRANCIS (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th- DILLON GLANCES I can't. DILLON FRANCIS You CAN. DILLON GLANCES I can't. I'm not a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. DILLOn GLANCES Jesus. DILLON FRANCIS: JUST DO IT. [They run off in three seperate directions: DILLON FRANCIS runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place…] DILLON FLANCES runs into the festival's huge and quickly growing-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exiting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. DILLON GLANCES, who is–in fact– not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort.. (by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") —eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.) —-posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks SKRILLEX and SŪP∆ charge towards each other furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to each other, radiating in fury and anger, they each explode. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge forward. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simultaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. SKRILLEX Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? DILLON FRANCIS *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS?!? BAMPHERAMPHS: ((From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars.)) …Dillon Francis? —Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? –Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ RICH AS FUCK Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. … ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? DILLON FRANCIS [Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, DILLON FRANCIS vanishes. What the-- SUPACREE/SKRILLEX: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) What are you doing here? DILLON FRANCIS: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? SKRILLEX: Why? DILLON FRANCIS: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't ‘WHAT Dillon Francis? blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? ! LIKE, THREE PEOPLE (at least) Giggatwats? DOC BROWN Gooodddamn. [GOD is going mad from all the goddamned goddamns. The Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.] Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. RAVEEEEE. Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? PASQUALE: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. [Coming in from other room.] Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt their heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) [EDC] DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. Over 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simultaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse. Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization. We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer. Everyone Is At The Event, Where Everything Happened. She broke everything in my house. Everything? Ev-er-y-thing. Hah, I broke all of his stuff. All of it? Everything, dude. Hehe. All of it. No, Like--Literally, Everyone, Ever. What did you do to this girl? _ EXCEPT… I don't get it. She hates Dillon Francis. She does— hate Dillon Francis. So why would she go to this? [They enter simultaneously.] YOU! YOU! [They charge.] EH. [She-- CUT TO: Sunni Blu is writing a Movie. —- I don't get it, how do I write about magic? I don't know, just say what it looks like--- Cut To: Staring at Skrillex. [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “The World Builders” [Staring at Skrillex.] [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “Think about it; What would you do that would leave a profound effect on Skrillex. I've...been...trying to figure that out, maybe. Pi. Look, it's S U P A C R E E. Oh shit, these are DIRECTIONS. To WHERE, tho? Dude, I have something to tell you. What. It's bad. Why, what happened? It's... look, no one else can know about it, okay? Okay... Oh shit, she's a Trance artist now? Trance? I don't know how to make trance. This one time, I held my breath meditating to it, and I just-- Just what? —- That's it. It just ended. What? Yeaaauhh dude. I don't fuck with Skrillex. For a lot of reasons. … I think I might be a writer. Oh no. She's a writer. Oh, no. ___ Oh, NO. I am not touching that with a $10,000 dollar paycheck! $!0,000--what the fuck am I gonna go with $10,000? ($10,000 is the rich people equivalent of $10) Yo. Poor people will do just about anything for $10. What? No, they won't. Yes they will--hey--watch this. Hey! [guy looks] I'll give you $10 to hop across the street on 1 foot. D1- He just does it See. D2- Does it, gets hit by a bus. See. That guy died. For $10. D3- Does it, gets hit by a bus; but is S U P A C R E E and resurrects instantly, then comes back for vengeance, capturing 2 more. What, she has their souls? Hearts and Souls. Goddamn. (Literally) Well, I told you Jesus quit, right--? Yeah, he's...he left. Jesus is watching “The Movie” So you swim into a port that has a boat. A boat-- Then you get on the boat. Get on the boat. That boat is going to take you to another boat. Okay, another boat. I TOLD YOU THERE WAS ANOTHER BOAT. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE FIRST ONE HAD TO SINK, TO BOARD IT. Oh, yeah, well--duh. So then--on the second boat-- Well, it's more like a really big Ferry (It's a monstrous cruise ship) Yeah, that shit made groove cruise look like...what's the poor people equivalent of groove cruise? There is no “poor people equivalent” Well then--how do poor people rave on boats? They...don't. That doesn't seem fair. Yeah--where's the equality? There's no such thing as equality in poverty! Actually-- HAH. THEY CALL IT “GOD'S COUNTRY” I'm not taking responsibility for this. I didn't do this. “IN GOD WE TRUST” NO, that just means; the trust is empty. It's empty. This...this used to be a reservoir. It still is...a reservoir. Of water. Oh. It's a “Christian Nation?” Christian? What's a Christian? It's-- NO. Jesus, listen. NO. YOU LISTEN: FUCK. THAT. FUCKTHAT. Oh, he was mad. He was pretty mad. He still is, mad. He is, pretty mad. Dad, what happened? It doesn't matter, it just had to happen. Why did it ‘have' to happen? If you have even to ask; I don't have an answer. Ogh, dude. I know. It's almost time to go back to work. I know. Oh, my God. I know. How long have we been in this Void--it's so random. [The whole #SQUAD is on Watch.] Hm. What is this? [A look] Can I have some? [Another look.] I like it. I want it. [The Look.] I'mma try it out. OK. __ Ask Him! He knows! How to get to Skrillex? (still censored) Yes--you know. He knows. You know, right? I don't know. What? I--? IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. (It didn't happen.) Fuck. NO dude, I found it--I just don't remember how… Do you remember when? Ah, I remember my first Skrillex. I don't. Oh My God dude. Flip Flops? Yes, my feet are killing me. [Skrillex ]is in 10 minutes. Actually, 9. The Hotel is 7 minutes away.; The car is parked in Valet; If we leave now, we can make it back by the time it starts, I swear. You SWEAR? __ Ooh...Beyonce...I like her. We all like her. Give her something nice. Nice. Very nice. Very nice. What do you want her to dress as? Oh her? ...she can come as herself. [the next part] Yo FUCK the Met Gala; I'm going to THIS shit. What? You were invited? I want to be invited! How did you get an invite? ((Oh, you can't write that)) Damn right I won't. Lol, she had her dress as Beyonce. That's cold. She stole Umbrella! She stole it first! It wasn't even written for her--! It wasn't written for anybo-- Actually, it was written for ME. Oh yeah, huh. Why does this song have 32 writers on it? What the fuuuuckkk... What. We have [Skrillex.} Skrillex. How did you get a [Skrillex?] Just--[Skrillex.] “Just [Skrillex”?] The Original. Oh, shit. The Original [Skrillex.] Like, the first one? First one ever. Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] I didn't take it. STFU “didn't take it”--Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] Oh what--[Skrillex?] We have [Skrillex!] You do? Of course we do! It's paradise. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. If that man sits at a piano, I will pass out... Oh wow, he plays piano...hmm. I will faint. How did he DO this? This Volcano emits *this* frequency. Ah, try this-- Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. Oh. I know this one. Do you? Yeah! Bruh. I'm about to take a lot of drugs right now; I'm just calling to tell you that I love you. What happened? Nothing happened. I'm just like this now. What's that? Nothing! What is it? Nothing! It's [Skrillex], isn't it. I don't get how he DID this. Someone give this man an honorary doctorate. Think about it like this; if all this is happening to you, and you have-- --No Grammys-- --and he's got-- --Eight Grammys. Eight Grammys, really? Damn, what the fuck. I know, right? Right. So. If he has eight Grammys--and you have none-- --zero Grammys-- --and you're experiencing this right now-- Damn, what the fuck happened to him? [Over the phone] ...She shat in my Grammys. What! All Eight of Them? YES. I didn't shit in his Grammys. You didn't? NO! Well, that's good, because-- I hired other people to shit in his Grammys. What? Best $80 I ever spent. Why are we terrorizing [Skrillex?] He started it. He did start it. See, this is why I like him--he doesn't ask questions. What? You hired 8 different people to shit in his Grammys. Yeah! Dude, that is disgusting! Dude. You hired three different photographers to take professional photoshoots of my dick. Look; These were all done on location; we went to Catalina...it was kind of cold though-- WHAT THE FUCK. Dude, this is like 9 lawsuits. Well, actually, one of them is a Class Action, so that's actually like a dozen actual complaints rolled into one; I don't know why they do that. {SupaCree has arranged literally “many seats” for both Skrillex, and Dillon Francis.] {Sweet Brown's Monologue: Well, Sweetie, I'll tell you what; That's a tough way to go. I'll give you one more go at it; and She Stole All of our Music! All of it? NO! Just the HITS! (awws) ‘ATROCIOUS C' ? What the fuck is THIS? Hmmm Atrocious C and the-- Wait--what was it called again? Oh shit. Black Jack Black. That was it. Right? Yeah, that was the original joke, I think. You think? Yeah, I think--But then I remembered Atrocious C Wait, Atrocious C was a real thing? YEAH dude, it was my cover band in college. COVER BAND IN COLLEGE? YEP. Black Jack Black Black Jack. Oh no. Yep, he was there. Remember that $10,000 I gave you yesterday, and you said you didn't want it? Yeah… I need it back. No. What? You said you didn't want it! Yeah, then you made me take it anyway, so I spent it! Well, what'd you spend it on?! Dude, where are we going? If I knew, then it wouldn't be an adventure! Please, no [Skrillex.] PUMP THE SHIT. Dude, is that [Skrillex?] Go the other way. What? Why? TURN AROUND . Seriously, what was that? TURN AROUND. “Turn arouuund” She wrote the whole...movie. What the fuck is a “movie”? I should record this. “record” ? OK, FIRST OF ALL. [Skrillex] has Magic Powers. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHUTTHEFUCKUPPPPPP. Wow, 14 Pages. What...language is this... -It's In English -It's in [Skrillex.] YOU KNOW I CAN'T READ-- Ugh, yeah, I can translate this. It's alphanumeric.. You algebraic motherfucker. Damn. Is he still over there? Yeah. Goddamn. …. Goddamn. Hey. Uh. Come in. ...it's nice in here. It is. ...did you take out a wall? Window. Oh. Okay. Yeah. Where's Dillon? Oh, he's... chillin. {Dillon Francis is sleeping like a-- No dead baby jokes. I wasn't going to make a- [He's laid out, alright.] How long has he been sleeping like this? ...I don't know...awhile. How long's “awhile”? We've been trying to call him. I know. I have his phone… That explains the inspirational breakfast messages. What? I stopped getting mine! I found your preceding messages to be in bad taste. CUT TO: Everyone is laid out. She is going through their phones. Woah. This is a lot of tits. So many tits. Tits. Tits. Tits. Oh hey--look at these. Oh, I don't like that. What is that? CUT BACk: Oh, you saw that…? I saw that. And I deleted that. And I blocked your number. (shamefully) Oh. On everyone's devices. What the fuck. Permanently. Oh. Yeah...You should go, now. [Does] Dude, she has me carrier locked with every provider in the united states; I had to get a burner just to try to get through to all of my contacts everytime I try to make call it somehow gets intercepted. Hahah. he had to get a burner. Haaaah. wow , you really did it this time. Now I can listen to their calls. What? That's impossible-- NO IT ISN'T dude. I don't know how she's doing this--it's like every time I--HELLO? --What? Hello? Hello? Hm. Haaah, I disconnected them. Dude, what are you doing to these DJs? FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJ'S. And that guy over there. Hey, who is that guy anyway? I don't know...he kind of looks familiar… Yeah, he does...I...I think I might have seen him perform once… Preform? Perform what? Music? … YEAH, HE DOES MUSIC! I REMEMBER. THIS GUY'S A DJ. ...I'm...not a DJ. HE'S A DJ. LETS GET HIM. What does he do? Who, that guy? [Skrillex.] I don't know. What's up, I'm “Not A DJ”--- YOu should probably be careful with it... Careful with it. Be careful with it, it's limited [Skrillex.] Limited [Skrillex.] Mmhmm. Lets get it. We probably shouldn't. Mm. I feel like we should Dude, it's limited. ___ Cosmo and Wanda are on their way to The Event Cosmo. What? You should probably stop drinking. Why? You're flying sideways. Alright. Try water. WATAAAAR!! __ Dude, how long have we been dead for? Dead for? Yeah, man. I don't know. Yeah, me neither. She didn't make it. Didn't make it? What do you mean, is she okay? No, I mean--she's dead… WHAT? That's not ok. I don't get it, what is she doing? This is just how she does it, shut up. Yeah, but what is she doing? [Skrillex!] He's here? He's here! I gotta go! Get gone! [Skrillex?!] Yuh! Fuhck! If he's here, then i'm already late. Late for what? Pretty much anything, you name it. His...Name...Is… DON'T SAY ITl DON'T SAY IT! DON'T SAY IT! He's been sleeping for...several days. [Still Staring At The Sky} Who DID this!? Explain it to me! Explain it to you? I can't explain to you! Are you seeing this? I'm in it! Everything's in it! __ Bruh. I know, dude. A little man climbed out of my sub this morning, and I'm just saying---I don't know if I can take it. I don't know how I'd take that, either. I can't take it. There's just one thing you should know: What? When the bass drops, so do we. DROP. What did you do with Dillon Francis? SUPACREE I don't know. I can't remember. MORGAN You “don't remember.” DILLON'S ASSISTANT What did you do with that bitch?! DILLON FRANCIS I don't know! I don't remember! DILLON'S ASSISTANT You “don't remember?” [Noone remembers.] Deadmau5: I remember. Deadmau5 Remembers Everything. This is why he is “like that.” WHY AM I LIKE THIS. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS. I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REMEMBER. So wait--Deadmau5 knows the entire story? well , yeah. Wait, which story? All of them. What the fuck! ___ SUPACREE Happy Birthday! (he is canadian, so he is morbidly polite) JOEL/DEADMAU5 Thanks. SUPACREE You're welcome. JOEL/DEADMAU5 K. SUPACREE So. BOTH YAH! [they both draw their rave weapons] JOEL/DEADMAU5 WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SUPACREE I AM IN “THE FUCK” YOU'RE “THE FUCK”, YOU DICK. Here's your gift. [She tosses it.] JOEL/DEADMAU5 (he opens the box, unseen from the view of the audience) Oh, Gosh--this is... actually exactly what I wanted. SUPACREE I know dude. JOEL/DEADMAU5 UH-WHO ARE YOU? SUPACREE I'm YO(U) . [They do not battle. He just accepts it.] ___ Have you seen this rock? It's...not a rock, it's… Well, have you seen it? Yeah I've seen it. It's pretty sick. Yeah… (Delirious) Oh My God--A Tiny Man...with a tiny scythe…. I am not a man. PRINCE: I'M NOT A WOMAN. ---he changed his name to a symbol. PRINCE: I'M NOT A MAN. “is [_____________]” a boy or girl PRINCE: I AM SOMETHING YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. DILLON FRANCIS Oh, Jesus Christ. JESUS CHRIST What dude. What the fuck do you want? What? DILLON FRANCIS Wait, you're...Jesus----Jesus-Jesus??? JESUS CHRIST If you insist on still calling me that, I told you ages ago... DILLON FRANCIS (to himself) ...that makes so much sense…Jesus… JESUS CHRIST Hm? … Hey wait--are you still--sleeping--kind of? … *wakes instantly* Sleeping? Who's sleeping? I'm not sleeping! Chel. HUH. [they squint at each other suspiciously] GERALD WHO'S THE PINATA NOW, BITCH?! SUPACREE Oh, my God, Gerald! Get a hold of yourself!!! DILLON FRANCIS WHAT HAVE I DONE!? GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? CHAK CHEL Dillon--What have you done. SUPACREE WHAT--DID YOU--DO. DILLON FRANCIS Just...Voodoo. GOD VOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (She's mad.) ((Oh, she's so mad)) (((Mad, what's that?))) ___ Bruh. She bleached my asshole. What! Yeah. And then tie dyed it. Trending: Rainbow Taint. Bro. How did you even find out about that? [-creative ways you might find out, your junk has been permanently altered.] What, it's PERMANENT. Dude, how Am I supposed to explain my LITERALLY Blue Balls? >RAVE> --I”M BLUE DA BA DE, DA BU DI__ I thought it was “Da BU Di--Do-Bu-DI” THE BEATLES Obblah-di, Oh Blah-da; Life goes on, brah-- La-Da-Da-Da-Life goes on. I don't know. I might be a writer. She's a writer. She's a writer! Oh No! She's a rider. Oh, that's robust. ___ MORGAN Oh My God--It was that big? (Nods) PAGE You'd never know. SUPACREE ...I knew it... MORGAN What did you do with it? SUPACREE I just wrapped it around my leg and tucked it into my sock, most the time. MORGAN Oh, wow. SUPACREE Yeah. I had to layer, the tube socks. MORGAN That's--wow. PAGE Yeah. I mean. When you're right, you're right. MORGAN You're right. SUPACREE I just get confused about it when I see him in shorts now. [SKRILLEX in shorts.] (She cocks her head to the side and squints, staring very suspiciously) (Later) We find that -- Woah. What. This is ridiculous. It is. [Skrillex] is Ridiculous. It is. So wait. This dudes dick. Oh my God. Is so long-- –right He just opens up a portal to another dimension, so he has some place to put it while he's doing business-- __ What is this. __ --So it doesn't get in the way. Lol. Pocket Portal. Why did you DO this? Who did this? ___ SIR. SKRILLEX STOP CALLING ME THAT. SIr, it was “not enough.” What? ___ I don't get it, so he's like a psychic? [Skrillex] is a psychic. Mm. No. No, he isn't. Uh, yes he is. No, he's not. He's just from the future, so he knows what's in it. Oh. Which future? All of them. Wait, which human era? ... Oh, I've seen the movie. How could you see the movie, it doesn't exist yet? Oh. It exists. What? It does? Yes. And It is fucked up. Like, in a good way? just FUCKED UP. Bruh. I went to go see [Skrillex] last night. Oh shit. How was it? IT WAS FUCKED UP Like, in a good way? JUST-- I JUST-- I JUST, ADJUST. There. There it is. Adjust. I don't see anything. Veer Weest. There! There! Right! There! *gasps* Wait, I think I see it. I see something. Wait. Is that. Adjust. *gasp* it's moving. It is moving, It appears to be moving. ___ I can't just leave it, they'll find it--I have to keep moving it. You can't keep moving it--the planet can't handle it. There are still humans on it! I know there are still humans on it, that's where I left them; but I can't just put it back, and I can't just leave it out here for the Inter--Galactic-- Interdimensional-- Whatever! I'm not just gonna leave it here for some aliens to turn into a trash planet.It's not a trash planet. (It's, basically a trash planet) It's a trash planet. Okay, well--it's my trash planet! And. I already annihilated--or, am in the current process of--annihilating all the evil soulless demon people-things. All the Bad Things. It has a lot of badness. Yes, but recently less badness. Kind of. And also less water. Everyone's thirsty now. But...I mean, we always were, kind of. Especially in LA. What is your process? This is it. Look. Look,This planet-- Trash Planet-- Trash--Look. Its full of primitive species-- OKay-- And also, other things that shouldn't be there. Alright. And it's almost dead. Or dying. Or...dead already. It's dead. It's a dead trash-planet. But I can't let anything [else] happen to it. CHINESE WOMAN --AND DEN-- You caused an entire apocalypse. Well, they called me fat, so. Well great; What are you going to do with your dead post apocalyptic trash planet? You can't keep expanding everlasting galaxies just so you can stuff this piece of crap planet into voids. Aha-Ha. IT'S FUCKIN--AHA-- W-Wait. Where did it go? Where did he go? Where did she go? How did I get here? How DID she get there? I've been looking for you everywhere! That sucks… Where were you? Nowhere. Like, the only place I didn't check! It was the first place I checked. You checked? Yes. He wasn't there. He's not in there. He's not on the lineup. [pause] I know how to get her here. ___ DUDE ___Dude, I don't know how you did this! How did you DO this? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE Look, it's a long story. DUDE Well make it a short one. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE *sighs* Look. I was jumping up and down, during my set, like usual--okay. OKay. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE So I….dropped the bass, and then… CHINESE WOMAN AND DEN? DUDE —And then? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE And then…(looks off, into the distance, for a moment) I went up, the bass went down; My dick went sideways, and forward-- DUDE --sideways and forward, at the same time-- SKRILLEX/SUPACREE >>>Yes. It was a lot. ___ Yo. What's his power. I don't know. I know you know. Everybody knows you know. What's his power. Ask him. Dude, I know you know it; Just tell me. “Macbook Bro” It's Apples Take on Music Production. Yo dude, these are flying off the shelves. ___ Dude. I jus' joined the mile high club. No way. Yes way. With who? Myself. Nice. It was great. __ So you're telling me-- I'm telling you--what I was told-- That they put him on a helicopter in the middle of the desert-- ---Black Rock City-- Whatever--Burning man--middle of the desert-- _-Yeah-- --Right. And then flew him to-- --”an undisclosed location”-- --okay-- ___ To her surprise, some big-time hollywood producers have taken an interest in her script,; Because she has no formal work experience in the industry, she is being “coached” by seasoned industry professionals as the Film Goes into Pre-Production Okay, I actually just had a few questions about the script… Go ahead, I was wondering about this scene with [Skrillex.] [...Skrillex?] What [Skrillex?] It's...pages… No. It isn't. There's no [Skrillex.] He is introduced as a character in Act... No, [Skrillex ]isn't in this. He...is...I'm...looking right at it. What page? Pages 45, thru… [C.C. (a.k.a. ‘Stone' omits page 45 from all of her written works.] “45” Yeah. There's no...come here. What. Come over here. Let me s

____ I guess it just is what it is, then Comin fresh out the whip, like, “I'm off hiatus” Gonna jump for a swim in the ‘bitch,' Itchin drive me crazy; Gonna need 6-10 stitches, the doctor say He's in big business, with the witch Tengris– Gotta play Tennis while I watch Tenet all in ten minutes (On my small engine/indjun) Turn around do a spin, drift like i'm Ben Ten, And it's intense, like I been campin, –Then I ditched Skrillex. Just moved in, but it's been lived in Set some new intentions, Get bent, got some new addictions, spin zen, got some new additions Big Wig like I'm Hamilton in some New Editions Did some big mentions, I should send dick pics. Watch this. “It's Dillon Francis” Now I'm real famous, But i'm still nameless– I just made the game up, Still got jealous haters *coughs* I should say Gel-ous Cause she got her nails did *indjun; American slang for native or indigenous peoples of Northern America. [THE FESTIVAL PROJECT.] _________ [Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds;] Three Cities, Three Main Stages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks. Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that! Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled from, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! A group dancing to Soulja Boy (Youuuuuuuu!) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually– He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" [Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing: --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, The Ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage… I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of consciousness. PAUSE *EDIT* What? Just– What!? What would it be like to listen to some Skrillex right now? NO. NEVER AGAIN. [Thinking, drifts away.] *listening to deadmau5, thinking about Skrillex* Hmnnn. Moar Ghosts N' Stuff. *Synth Drops In* Nope, I'm Good lol. CUT TO: I told you I could be Joel's cat. Oh, wow, nice. JOEL NO, MEOWINGTONS, NYO !!!!!!!! Meheh. UNPAUSE CUT BACK TO: She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of consciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void. I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue loudly.) [The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner.] Guys. [The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ] ...Shhht, quiet... [The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion ] (SUPACREE shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" ) Guys. [As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light.] GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. CHAK CHEL (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it. CHAK CHEL Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time– (Tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis.) That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Except here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. [The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the–] WHAT THE FUCK. WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision; DECISION BY WHO? [They fall quiet.] WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed excuse for a body? What genetic catastrophe allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE! WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS? ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... [The Gods all react in surprise and horror.] ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The– Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for– She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and its inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) [THE ASCENDED MASTERY has assembled, the ensemble shieled by an ‘inpenatrable' invisible forcefield; SUPACREE senses the energy field, Which she walks into, nonchalantly.] She has awakened her consciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- The Origins Once we send her back, she will have been three times resurrected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumerous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as foretold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkness-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosis personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SUPACREE through the window. Telepathically, very loud and disapproving of here mere presense. (CONT'D) … She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of The Light for quite some time now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocrisy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darkness, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepherds and priests in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of The Source Light in the loss of Love; the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SUPACREE appears behind DILLON FRANCIS in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. DILLON FRANCIS You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? SUPACREE Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- DILLON FRANCIS Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! SUPACREE ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. DILLON FRANCIS. "Exactly, actually--actually," SUPACREE appears in full form, out of the translucency of the higher realms and into the personification of the third dimensional realm. SUPACREE Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! DILLON FRANCIS Time? What the fuck is time? SUPACREE Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- DILLON FRANCIS Explain it when? When you have time? [He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans.] (gh0st.) SUPACREE I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. DILLON FRANCIS Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint. "Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective consciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technologically-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of consciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infinitely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting each other in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculous lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: RICK AND MORTY MORTY Ohhh, oh shit Rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... RICK Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? MORTY Uhhh–'Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. RICK Oh, you mean ‘Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? MORTY No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… RICK --You said "monkey" twice-- MORTY (CONT'D) ...Space Wars… RICK I don't know, Morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, it got, uh, *coughs* It got pretty deep. Flashback: DILLON PICKLE FRANCIS// PICKLE RICK Flashback Within Flashback :The Hellavator Flashback within Flashback Within Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating RIck and Morty/justin roiland (and Dan Harmon, I guess) from existence in entirety. RICK ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. [He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from Run Ricky Run) as its main character. RICK [w/MORTY] What the-- MORTY Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. RICK --who, what? H-h-holdon-- MORTY, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to its original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. ANNOUNCER [W/MORTY] DUEL! RICK Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! RICK This is just, brutal-- MORTY That was just a highlight. The boss fight is live. RICK Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! F I G H T. [HANZEL and GRETL are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' HANZEL (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immediately transport attendees into the Colosseum, where a furious SONNY/SKRILLEX and a rage-fueled SŪP∆CREE have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating wormholes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. [The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. ] Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "Everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Rave Weaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Colosseum at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage. Unassumingly, strolling along stage right SKRILLEX sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entourage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popsicles, and cupcakes… super classy. *supaclassy. DILLON FRANCIS lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. *probably on something. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omni-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imaginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after.) SŪP∆, after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She performs various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. -blam- (MIND = BLOWN.) (((throughout the dimensions))) AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad MORTY Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* DILLON FRANCIS from center Sees SŪP∆CREE seeing SKRILLEX, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confucius.) She's mad. DILLON FRANCIS Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see SKRILLEX seeing SŪP∆CREE, squinting Skrillex-y. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. DILLON FRANCIS OH GOD, NO! He morphs into DILLON GLANCES and DILLON FLANCES, respectively. (3) Wtf is this like a fucked up shadow-clone juitsu? Just– DILLON FRANCIS (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th- DILLON GLANCES I can't. DILLON FRANCIS You CAN. DILLON GLANCES I can't. I'm not a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. DILLOn GLANCES Jesus. DILLON FRANCIS: JUST DO IT. [They run off in three seperate directions: DILLON FRANCIS runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place…] DILLON FLANCES runs into the festival's huge and quickly growing-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exiting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. DILLON GLANCES, who is–in fact– not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort.. (by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") —eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.) —-posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks SKRILLEX and SŪP∆ charge towards each other furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to each other, radiating in fury and anger, they each explode. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge forward. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simultaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. SKRILLEX Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? DILLON FRANCIS *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS?!? BAMPHERAMPHS: ((From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars.)) …Dillon Francis? —Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? –Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ RICH AS FUCK Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. … ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? DILLON FRANCIS [Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, DILLON FRANCIS vanishes. What the-- SUPACREE/SKRILLEX: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) What are you doing here? DILLON FRANCIS: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? SKRILLEX: Why? DILLON FRANCIS: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't ‘WHAT Dillon Francis? blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? ! LIKE, THREE PEOPLE (at least) Giggatwats? DOC BROWN Gooodddamn. [GOD is going mad from all the goddamned goddamns. The Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.] Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. RAVEEEEE. Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? PASQUALE: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. [Coming in from other room.] Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt their heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) [EDC] DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. Over 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simultaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse. Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization. We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer. Everyone Is At The Event, Where Everything Happened. She broke everything in my house. Everything? Ev-er-y-thing. Hah, I broke all of his stuff. All of it? Everything, dude. Hehe. All of it. No, Like--Literally, Everyone, Ever. What did you do to this girl? _ EXCEPT… I don't get it. She hates Dillon Francis. She does— hate Dillon Francis. So why would she go to this? [They enter simultaneously.] YOU! YOU! [They charge.] EH. [She-- CUT TO: Sunni Blu is writing a Movie. —- I don't get it, how do I write about magic? I don't know, just say what it looks like--- Cut To: Staring at Skrillex. [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “The World Builders” [Staring at Skrillex.] [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “Think about it; What would you do that would leave a profound effect on Skrillex. I've...been...trying to figure that out, maybe. Pi. Look, it's S U P A C R E E. Oh shit, these are DIRECTIONS. To WHERE, tho? Dude, I have something to tell you. What. It's bad. Why, what happened? It's... look, no one else can know about it, okay? Okay... Oh shit, she's a Trance artist now? Trance? I don't know how to make trance. This one time, I held my breath meditating to it, and I just-- Just what? —- That's it. It just ended. What? Yeaaauhh dude. I don't fuck with Skrillex. For a lot of reasons. … I think I might be a writer. Oh no. She's a writer. Oh, no. ___ Oh, NO. I am not touching that with a $10,000 dollar paycheck! $!0,000--what the fuck am I gonna go with $10,000? ($10,000 is the rich people equivalent of $10) Yo. Poor people will do just about anything for $10. What? No, they won't. Yes they will--hey--watch this. Hey! [guy looks] I'll give you $10 to hop across the street on 1 foot. D1- He just does it See. D2- Does it, gets hit by a bus. See. That guy died. For $10. D3- Does it, gets hit by a bus; but is S U P A C R E E and resurrects instantly, then comes back for vengeance, capturing 2 more. What, she has their souls? Hearts and Souls. Goddamn. (Literally) Well, I told you Jesus quit, right--? Yeah, he's...he left. Jesus is watching “The Movie” So you swim into a port that has a boat. A boat-- Then you get on the boat. Get on the boat. That boat is going to take you to another boat. Okay, another boat. I TOLD YOU THERE WAS ANOTHER BOAT. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE FIRST ONE HAD TO SINK, TO BOARD IT. Oh, yeah, well--duh. So then--on the second boat-- Well, it's more like a really big Ferry (It's a monstrous cruise ship) Yeah, that shit made groove cruise look like...what's the poor people equivalent of groove cruise? There is no “poor people equivalent” Well then--how do poor people rave on boats? They...don't. That doesn't seem fair. Yeah--where's the equality? There's no such thing as equality in poverty! Actually-- HAH. THEY CALL IT “GOD'S COUNTRY” I'm not taking responsibility for this. I didn't do this. “IN GOD WE TRUST” NO, that just means; the trust is empty. It's empty. This...this used to be a reservoir. It still is...a reservoir. Of water. Oh. It's a “Christian Nation?” Christian? What's a Christian? It's-- NO. Jesus, listen. NO. YOU LISTEN: FUCK. THAT. FUCKTHAT. Oh, he was mad. He was pretty mad. He still is, mad. He is, pretty mad. Dad, what happened? It doesn't matter, it just had to happen. Why did it ‘have' to happen? If you have even to ask; I don't have an answer. Ogh, dude. I know. It's almost time to go back to work. I know. Oh, my God. I know. How long have we been in this Void--it's so random. [The whole #SQUAD is on Watch.] Hm. What is this? [A look] Can I have some? [Another look.] I like it. I want it. [The Look.] I'mma try it out. OK. __ Ask Him! He knows! How to get to Skrillex? (still censored) Yes--you know. He knows. You know, right? I don't know. What? I--? IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. (It didn't happen.) Fuck. NO dude, I found it--I just don't remember how… Do you remember when? Ah, I remember my first Skrillex. I don't. Oh My God dude. Flip Flops? Yes, my feet are killing me. [Skrillex ]is in 10 minutes. Actually, 9. The Hotel is 7 minutes away.; The car is parked in Valet; If we leave now, we can make it back by the time it starts, I swear. You SWEAR? __ Ooh...Beyonce...I like her. We all like her. Give her something nice. Nice. Very nice. Very nice. What do you want her to dress as? Oh her? ...she can come as herself. [the next part] Yo FUCK the Met Gala; I'm going to THIS shit. What? You were invited? I want to be invited! How did you get an invite? ((Oh, you can't write that)) Damn right I won't. Lol, she had her dress as Beyonce. That's cold. She stole Umbrella! She stole it first! It wasn't even written for her--! It wasn't written for anybo-- Actually, it was written for ME. Oh yeah, huh. Why does this song have 32 writers on it? What the fuuuuckkk... What. We have [Skrillex.} Skrillex. How did you get a [Skrillex?] Just--[Skrillex.] “Just [Skrillex”?] The Original. Oh, shit. The Original [Skrillex.] Like, the first one? First one ever. Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] I didn't take it. STFU “didn't take it”--Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] Oh what--[Skrillex?] We have [Skrillex!] You do? Of course we do! It's paradise. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. If that man sits at a piano, I will pass out... Oh wow, he plays piano...hmm. I will faint. How did he DO this? This Volcano emits *this* frequency. Ah, try this-- Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. Oh. I know this one. Do you? Yeah! Bruh. I'm about to take a lot of drugs right now; I'm just calling to tell you that I love you. What happened? Nothing happened. I'm just like this now. What's that? Nothing! What is it? Nothing! It's [Skrillex], isn't it. I don't get how he DID this. Someone give this man an honorary doctorate. Think about it like this; if all this is happening to you, and you have-- --No Grammys-- --and he's got-- --Eight Grammys. Eight Grammys, really? Damn, what the fuck. I know, right? Right. So. If he has eight Grammys--and you have none-- --zero Grammys-- --and you're experiencing this right now-- Damn, what the fuck happened to him? [Over the phone] ...She shat in my Grammys. What! All Eight of Them? YES. I didn't shit in his Grammys. You didn't? NO! Well, that's good, because-- I hired other people to shit in his Grammys. What? Best $80 I ever spent. Why are we terrorizing [Skrillex?] He started it. He did start it. See, this is why I like him--he doesn't ask questions. What? You hired 8 different people to shit in his Grammys. Yeah! Dude, that is disgusting! Dude. You hired three different photographers to take professional photoshoots of my dick. Look; These were all done on location; we went to Catalina...it was kind of cold though-- WHAT THE FUCK. Dude, this is like 9 lawsuits. Well, actually, one of them is a Class Action, so that's actually like a dozen actual complaints rolled into one; I don't know why they do that. {SupaCree has arranged literally “many seats” for both Skrillex, and Dillon Francis.] {Sweet Brown's Monologue: Well, Sweetie, I'll tell you what; That's a tough way to go. I'll give you one more go at it; and She Stole All of our Music! All of it? NO! Just the HITS! (awws) ‘ATROCIOUS C' ? What the fuck is THIS? Hmmm Atrocious C and the-- Wait--what was it called again? Oh shit. Black Jack Black. That was it. Right? Yeah, that was the original joke, I think. You think? Yeah, I think--But then I remembered Atrocious C Wait, Atrocious C was a real thing? YEAH dude, it was my cover band in college. COVER BAND IN COLLEGE? YEP. Black Jack Black Black Jack. Oh no. Yep, he was there. Remember that $10,000 I gave you yesterday, and you said you didn't want it? Yeah… I need it back. No. What? You said you didn't want it! Yeah, then you made me take it anyway, so I spent it! Well, what'd you spend it on?! Dude, where are we going? If I knew, then it wouldn't be an adventure! Please, no [Skrillex.] PUMP THE SHIT. Dude, is that [Skrillex?] Go the other way. What? Why? TURN AROUND . Seriously, what was that? TURN AROUND. “Turn arouuund” She wrote the whole...movie. What the fuck is a “movie”? I should record this. “record” ? OK, FIRST OF ALL. [Skrillex] has Magic Powers. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHUTTHEFUCKUPPPPPP. Wow, 14 Pages. What...language is this... -It's In English -It's in [Skrillex.] YOU KNOW I CAN'T READ-- Ugh, yeah, I can translate this. It's alphanumeric.. You algebraic motherfucker. Damn. Is he still over there? Yeah. Goddamn. …. Goddamn. Hey. Uh. Come in. ...it's nice in here. It is. ...did you take out a wall? Window. Oh. Okay. Yeah. Where's Dillon? Oh, he's... chillin. {Dillon Francis is sleeping like a-- No dead baby jokes. I wasn't going to make a- [He's laid out, alright.] How long has he been sleeping like this? ...I don't know...awhile. How long's “awhile”? We've been trying to call him. I know. I have his phone… That explains the inspirational breakfast messages. What? I stopped getting mine! I found your preceding messages to be in bad taste. CUT TO: Everyone is laid out. She is going through their phones. Woah. This is a lot of tits. So many tits. Tits. Tits. Tits. Oh hey--look at these. Oh, I don't like that. What is that? CUT BACk: Oh, you saw that…? I saw that. And I deleted that. And I blocked your number. (shamefully) Oh. On everyone's devices. What the fuck. Permanently. Oh. Yeah...You should go, now. [Does] Dude, she has me carrier locked with every provider in the united states; I had to get a burner just to try to get through to all of my contacts everytime I try to make call it somehow gets intercepted. Hahah. he had to get a burner. Haaaah. wow , you really did it this time. Now I can listen to their calls. What? That's impossible-- NO IT ISN'T dude. I don't know how she's doing this--it's like every time I--HELLO? --What? Hello? Hello? Hm. Haaah, I disconnected them. Dude, what are you doing to these DJs? FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJ'S. And that guy over there. Hey, who is that guy anyway? I don't know...he kind of looks familiar… Yeah, he does...I...I think I might have seen him perform once… Preform? Perform what? Music? … YEAH, HE DOES MUSIC! I REMEMBER. THIS GUY'S A DJ. ...I'm...not a DJ. HE'S A DJ. LETS GET HIM. What does he do? Who, that guy? [Skrillex.] I don't know. What's up, I'm “Not A DJ”--- YOu should probably be careful with it... Careful with it. Be careful with it, it's limited [Skrillex.] Limited [Skrillex.] Mmhmm. Lets get it. We probably shouldn't. Mm. I feel like we should Dude, it's limited. ___ Cosmo and Wanda are on their way to The Event Cosmo. What? You should probably stop drinking. Why? You're flying sideways. Alright. Try water. WATAAAAR!! __ Dude, how long have we been dead for? Dead for? Yeah, man. I don't know. Yeah, me neither. She didn't make it. Didn't make it? What do you mean, is she okay? No, I mean--she's dead… WHAT? That's not ok. I don't get it, what is she doing? This is just how she does it, shut up. Yeah, but what is she doing? [Skrillex!] He's here? He's here! I gotta go! Get gone! [Skrillex?!] Yuh! Fuhck! If he's here, then i'm already late. Late for what? Pretty much anything, you name it. His...Name...Is… DON'T SAY ITl DON'T SAY IT! DON'T SAY IT! He's been sleeping for...several days. [Still Staring At The Sky} Who DID this!? Explain it to me! Explain it to you? I can't explain to you! Are you seeing this? I'm in it! Everything's in it! __ Bruh. I know, dude. A little man climbed out of my sub this morning, and I'm just saying---I don't know if I can take it. I don't know how I'd take that, either. I can't take it. There's just one thing you should know: What? When the bass drops, so do we. DROP. What did you do with Dillon Francis? SUPACREE I don't know. I can't remember. MORGAN You “don't remember.” DILLON'S ASSISTANT What did you do with that bitch?! DILLON FRANCIS I don't know! I don't remember! DILLON'S ASSISTANT You “don't remember?” [Noone remembers.] Deadmau5: I remember. Deadmau5 Remembers Everything. This is why he is “like that.” WHY AM I LIKE THIS. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS. I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REMEMBER. So wait--Deadmau5 knows the entire story? well , yeah. Wait, which story? All of them. What the fuck! ___ SUPACREE Happy Birthday! (he is canadian, so he is morbidly polite) JOEL/DEADMAU5 Thanks. SUPACREE You're welcome. JOEL/DEADMAU5 K. SUPACREE So. BOTH YAH! [they both draw their rave weapons] JOEL/DEADMAU5 WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SUPACREE I AM IN “THE FUCK” YOU'RE “THE FUCK”, YOU DICK. Here's your gift. [She tosses it.] JOEL/DEADMAU5 (he opens the box, unseen from the view of the audience) Oh, Gosh--this is... actually exactly what I wanted. SUPACREE I know dude. JOEL/DEADMAU5 UH-WHO ARE YOU? SUPACREE I'm YO(U) . [They do not battle. He just accepts it.] ___ Have you seen this rock? It's...not a rock, it's… Well, have you seen it? Yeah I've seen it. It's pretty sick. Yeah… (Delirious) Oh My God--A Tiny Man...with a tiny scythe…. I am not a man. PRINCE: I'M NOT A WOMAN. ---he changed his name to a symbol. PRINCE: I'M NOT A MAN. “is [_____________]” a boy or girl PRINCE: I AM SOMETHING YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. DILLON FRANCIS Oh, Jesus Christ. JESUS CHRIST What dude. What the fuck do you want? What? DILLON FRANCIS Wait, you're...Jesus----Jesus-Jesus??? JESUS CHRIST If you insist on still calling me that, I told you ages ago... DILLON FRANCIS (to himself) ...that makes so much sense…Jesus… JESUS CHRIST Hm? … Hey wait--are you still--sleeping--kind of? … *wakes instantly* Sleeping? Who's sleeping? I'm not sleeping! Chel. HUH. [they squint at each other suspiciously] GERALD WHO'S THE PINATA NOW, BITCH?! SUPACREE Oh, my God, Gerald! Get a hold of yourself!!! DILLON FRANCIS WHAT HAVE I DONE!? GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? CHAK CHEL Dillon--What have you done. SUPACREE WHAT--DID YOU--DO. DILLON FRANCIS Just...Voodoo. GOD VOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (She's mad.) ((Oh, she's so mad)) (((Mad, what's that?))) ___ Bruh. She bleached my asshole. What! Yeah. And then tie dyed it. Trending: Rainbow Taint. Bro. How did you even find out about that? [-creative ways you might find out, your junk has been permanently altered.] What, it's PERMANENT. Dude, how Am I supposed to explain my LITERALLY Blue Balls? >RAVE> --I”M BLUE DA BA DE, DA BU DI__ I thought it was “Da BU Di--Do-Bu-DI” THE BEATLES Obblah-di, Oh Blah-da; Life goes on, brah-- La-Da-Da-Da-Life goes on. I don't know. I might be a writer. She's a writer. She's a writer! Oh No! She's a rider. Oh, that's robust. ___ MORGAN Oh My God--It was that big? (Nods) PAGE You'd never know. SUPACREE ...I knew it... MORGAN What did you do with it? SUPACREE I just wrapped it around my leg and tucked it into my sock, most the time. MORGAN Oh, wow. SUPACREE Yeah. I had to layer, the tube socks. MORGAN That's--wow. PAGE Yeah. I mean. When you're right, you're right. MORGAN You're right. SUPACREE I just get confused about it when I see him in shorts now. [SKRILLEX in shorts.] (She cocks her head to the side and squints, staring very suspiciously) (Later) We find that -- Woah. What. This is ridiculous. It is. [Skrillex] is Ridiculous. It is. So wait. This dudes dick. Oh my God. Is so long-- –right He just opens up a portal to another dimension, so he has some place to put it while he's doing business-- __ What is this. __ --So it doesn't get in the way. Lol. Pocket Portal. Why did you DO this? Who did this? ___ SIR. SKRILLEX STOP CALLING ME THAT. SIr, it was “not enough.” What? ___ I don't get it, so he's like a psychic? [Skrillex] is a psychic. Mm. No. No, he isn't. Uh, yes he is. No, he's not. He's just from the future, so he knows what's in it. Oh. Which future? All of them. Wait, which human era? ... Oh, I've seen the movie. How could you see the movie, it doesn't exist yet? Oh. It exists. What? It does? Yes. And It is fucked up. Like, in a good way? just FUCKED UP. Bruh. I went to go see [Skrillex] last night. Oh shit. How was it? IT WAS FUCKED UP Like, in a good way? JUST-- I JUST-- I JUST, ADJUST. There. There it is. Adjust. I don't see anything. Veer Weest. There! There! Right! There! *gasps* Wait, I think I see it. I see something. Wait. Is that. Adjust. *gasp* it's moving. It is moving, It appears to be moving. ___ I can't just leave it, they'll find it--I have to keep moving it. You can't keep moving it--the planet can't handle it. There are still humans on it! I know there are still humans on it, that's where I left them; but I can't just put it back, and I can't just leave it out here for the Inter--Galactic-- Interdimensional-- Whatever! I'm not just gonna leave it here for some aliens to turn into a trash planet.It's not a trash planet. (It's, basically a trash planet) It's a trash planet. Okay, well--it's my trash planet! And. I already annihilated--or, am in the current process of--annihilating all the evil soulless demon people-things. All the Bad Things. It has a lot of badness. Yes, but recently less badness. Kind of. And also less water. Everyone's thirsty now. But...I mean, we always were, kind of. Especially in LA. What is your process? This is it. Look. Look,This planet-- Trash Planet-- Trash--Look. Its full of primitive species-- OKay-- And also, other things that shouldn't be there. Alright. And it's almost dead. Or dying. Or...dead already. It's dead. It's a dead trash-planet. But I can't let anything [else] happen to it. CHINESE WOMAN --AND DEN-- You caused an entire apocalypse. Well, they called me fat, so. Well great; What are you going to do with your dead post apocalyptic trash planet? You can't keep expanding everlasting galaxies just so you can stuff this piece of crap planet into voids. Aha-Ha. IT'S FUCKIN--AHA-- W-Wait. Where did it go? Where did he go? Where did she go? How did I get here? How DID she get there? I've been looking for you everywhere! That sucks… Where were you? Nowhere. Like, the only place I didn't check! It was the first place I checked. You checked? Yes. He wasn't there. He's not in there. He's not on the lineup. [pause] I know how to get her here. ___ DUDE ___Dude, I don't know how you did this! How did you DO this? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE Look, it's a long story. DUDE Well make it a short one. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE *sighs* Look. I was jumping up and down, during my set, like usual--okay. OKay. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE So I….dropped the bass, and then… CHINESE WOMAN AND DEN? DUDE —And then? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE And then…(looks off, into the distance, for a moment) I went up, the bass went down; My dick went sideways, and forward-- DUDE --sideways and forward, at the same time-- SKRILLEX/SUPACREE >>>Yes. It was a lot. ___ Yo. What's his power. I don't know. I know you know. Everybody knows you know. What's his power. Ask him. Dude, I know you know it; Just tell me. “Macbook Bro” It's Apples Take on Music Production. Yo dude, these are flying off the shelves. ___ Dude. I jus' joined the mile high club. No way. Yes way. With who? Myself. Nice. It was great. __ So you're telling me-- I'm telling you--what I was told-- That they put him on a helicopter in the middle of the desert-- ---Black Rock City-- Whatever--Burning man--middle of the desert-- _-Yeah-- --Right. And then flew him to-- --”an undisclosed location”-- --okay-- ___ To her surprise, some big-time hollywood producers have taken an interest in her script,; Because she has no formal work experience in the industry, she is being “coached” by seasoned industry professionals as the Film Goes into Pre-Production Okay, I actually just had a few questions about the script… Go ahead, I was wondering about this scene with [Skrillex.] [...Skrillex?] What [Skrillex?] It's...pages… No. It isn't. There's no [Skrillex.] He is introduced as a character in Act... No, [Skrillex ]isn't in this. He...is...I'm...looking right at it. What page? Pages 45, thru… [C.C. (a.k.a. ‘Stone' omits page 45 from all of her written works.] “45” Yeah. There's no...come here. What. Come over here. Let me s

____ I guess it just is what it is, then Comin fresh out the whip, like, “I'm off hiatus” Gonna jump for a swim in the ‘bitch,' Itchin drive me crazy; Gonna need 6-10 stitches, the doctor say He's in big business, with the witch Tengris– Gotta play Tennis while I watch Tenet all in ten minutes (On my small engine/indjun) Turn around do a spin, drift like i'm Ben Ten, And it's intense, like I been campin, –Then I ditched Skrillex. Just moved in, but it's been lived in Set some new intentions, Get bent, got some new addictions, spin zen, got some new additions Big Wig like I'm Hamilton in some New Editions Did some big mentions, I should send dick pics. Watch this. “It's Dillon Francis” Now I'm real famous, But i'm still nameless– I just made the game up, Still got jealous haters *coughs* I should say Gel-ous Cause she got her nails did *indjun; American slang for native or indigenous peoples of Northern America. [THE FESTIVAL PROJECT.] _________ [Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds;] Three Cities, Three Main Stages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks. Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that! Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled from, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! A group dancing to Soulja Boy (Youuuuuuuu!) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually– He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" [Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing: --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, The Ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage… I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of consciousness. PAUSE *EDIT* What? Just– What!? What would it be like to listen to some Skrillex right now? NO. NEVER AGAIN. [Thinking, drifts away.] *listening to deadmau5, thinking about Skrillex* Hmnnn. Moar Ghosts N' Stuff. *Synth Drops In* Nope, I'm Good lol. CUT TO: I told you I could be Joel's cat. Oh, wow, nice. JOEL NO, MEOWINGTONS, NYO !!!!!!!! Meheh. UNPAUSE CUT BACK TO: She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of consciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void. I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue loudly.) [The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner.] Guys. [The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ] ...Shhht, quiet... [The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion ] (SUPACREE shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" ) Guys. [As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light.] GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. CHAK CHEL (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it. CHAK CHEL Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time– (Tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis.) That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Except here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. [The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the–] WHAT THE FUCK. WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision; DECISION BY WHO? [They fall quiet.] WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed excuse for a body? What genetic catastrophe allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE! WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS? ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... [The Gods all react in surprise and horror.] ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The– Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for– She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and its inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) [THE ASCENDED MASTERY has assembled, the ensemble shieled by an ‘inpenatrable' invisible forcefield; SUPACREE senses the energy field, Which she walks into, nonchalantly.] She has awakened her consciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- The Origins Once we send her back, she will have been three times resurrected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumerous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as foretold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkness-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosis personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SUPACREE through the window. Telepathically, very loud and disapproving of here mere presense. (CONT'D) … She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of The Light for quite some time now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocrisy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darkness, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepherds and priests in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of The Source Light in the loss of Love; the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SUPACREE appears behind DILLON FRANCIS in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. DILLON FRANCIS You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? SUPACREE Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- DILLON FRANCIS Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! SUPACREE ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. DILLON FRANCIS. "Exactly, actually--actually," SUPACREE appears in full form, out of the translucency of the higher realms and into the personification of the third dimensional realm. SUPACREE Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! DILLON FRANCIS Time? What the fuck is time? SUPACREE Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- DILLON FRANCIS Explain it when? When you have time? [He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans.] (gh0st.) SUPACREE I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. DILLON FRANCIS Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint. "Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective consciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technologically-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of consciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infinitely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting each other in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculous lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: RICK AND MORTY MORTY Ohhh, oh shit Rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... RICK Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? MORTY Uhhh–'Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. RICK Oh, you mean ‘Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? MORTY No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… RICK --You said "monkey" twice-- MORTY (CONT'D) ...Space Wars… RICK I don't know, Morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, it got, uh, *coughs* It got pretty deep. Flashback: DILLON PICKLE FRANCIS// PICKLE RICK Flashback Within Flashback :The Hellavator Flashback within Flashback Within Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating RIck and Morty/justin roiland (and Dan Harmon, I guess) from existence in entirety. RICK ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. [He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from Run Ricky Run) as its main character. RICK [w/MORTY] What the-- MORTY Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. RICK --who, what? H-h-holdon-- MORTY, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to its original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. ANNOUNCER [W/MORTY] DUEL! RICK Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! RICK This is just, brutal-- MORTY That was just a highlight. The boss fight is live. RICK Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! F I G H T. [HANZEL and GRETL are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' HANZEL (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immediately transport attendees into the Colosseum, where a furious SONNY/SKRILLEX and a rage-fueled SŪP∆CREE have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating wormholes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. [The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. ] Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "Everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Rave Weaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Colosseum at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage. Unassumingly, strolling along stage right SKRILLEX sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entourage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popsicles, and cupcakes… super classy. *supaclassy. DILLON FRANCIS lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. *probably on something. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omni-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imaginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after.) SŪP∆, after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She performs various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. -blam- (MIND = BLOWN.) (((throughout the dimensions))) AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad MORTY Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* DILLON FRANCIS from center Sees SŪP∆CREE seeing SKRILLEX, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confucius.) She's mad. DILLON FRANCIS Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see SKRILLEX seeing SŪP∆CREE, squinting Skrillex-y. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. DILLON FRANCIS OH GOD, NO! He morphs into DILLON GLANCES and DILLON FLANCES, respectively. (3) Wtf is this like a fucked up shadow-clone juitsu? Just– DILLON FRANCIS (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th- DILLON GLANCES I can't. DILLON FRANCIS You CAN. DILLON GLANCES I can't. I'm not a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. DILLOn GLANCES Jesus. DILLON FRANCIS: JUST DO IT. [They run off in three seperate directions: DILLON FRANCIS runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place…] DILLON FLANCES runs into the festival's huge and quickly growing-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exiting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. DILLON GLANCES, who is–in fact– not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort.. (by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") —eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.) —-posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks SKRILLEX and SŪP∆ charge towards each other furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to each other, radiating in fury and anger, they each explode. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge forward. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simultaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. SKRILLEX Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? DILLON FRANCIS *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS?!? BAMPHERAMPHS: ((From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars.)) …Dillon Francis? —Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? –Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ RICH AS FUCK Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. … ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? DILLON FRANCIS [Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, DILLON FRANCIS vanishes. What the-- SUPACREE/SKRILLEX: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) What are you doing here? DILLON FRANCIS: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? SKRILLEX: Why? DILLON FRANCIS: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't ‘WHAT Dillon Francis? blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? ! LIKE, THREE PEOPLE (at least) Giggatwats? DOC BROWN Gooodddamn. [GOD is going mad from all the goddamned goddamns. The Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.] Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. RAVEEEEE. Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? PASQUALE: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. [Coming in from other room.] Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt their heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) [EDC] DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. Over 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simultaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse. Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization. We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer. Everyone Is At The Event, Where Everything Happened. She broke everything in my house. Everything? Ev-er-y-thing. Hah, I broke all of his stuff. All of it? Everything, dude. Hehe. All of it. No, Like--Literally, Everyone, Ever. What did you do to this girl? _ EXCEPT… I don't get it. She hates Dillon Francis. She does— hate Dillon Francis. So why would she go to this? [They enter simultaneously.] YOU! YOU! [They charge.] EH. [She-- CUT TO: Sunni Blu is writing a Movie. —- I don't get it, how do I write about magic? I don't know, just say what it looks like--- Cut To: Staring at Skrillex. [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “The World Builders” [Staring at Skrillex.] [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “Think about it; What would you do that would leave a profound effect on Skrillex. I've...been...trying to figure that out, maybe. Pi. Look, it's S U P A C R E E. Oh shit, these are DIRECTIONS. To WHERE, tho? Dude, I have something to tell you. What. It's bad. Why, what happened? It's... look, no one else can know about it, okay? Okay... Oh shit, she's a Trance artist now? Trance? I don't know how to make trance. This one time, I held my breath meditating to it, and I just-- Just what? —- That's it. It just ended. What? Yeaaauhh dude. I don't fuck with Skrillex. For a lot of reasons. … I think I might be a writer. Oh no. She's a writer. Oh, no. ___ Oh, NO. I am not touching that with a $10,000 dollar paycheck! $!0,000--what the fuck am I gonna go with $10,000? ($10,000 is the rich people equivalent of $10) Yo. Poor people will do just about anything for $10. What? No, they won't. Yes they will--hey--watch this. Hey! [guy looks] I'll give you $10 to hop across the street on 1 foot. D1- He just does it See. D2- Does it, gets hit by a bus. See. That guy died. For $10. D3- Does it, gets hit by a bus; but is S U P A C R E E and resurrects instantly, then comes back for vengeance, capturing 2 more. What, she has their souls? Hearts and Souls. Goddamn. (Literally) Well, I told you Jesus quit, right--? Yeah, he's...he left. Jesus is watching “The Movie” So you swim into a port that has a boat. A boat-- Then you get on the boat. Get on the boat. That boat is going to take you to another boat. Okay, another boat. I TOLD YOU THERE WAS ANOTHER BOAT. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE FIRST ONE HAD TO SINK, TO BOARD IT. Oh, yeah, well--duh. So then--on the second boat-- Well, it's more like a really big Ferry (It's a monstrous cruise ship) Yeah, that shit made groove cruise look like...what's the poor people equivalent of groove cruise? There is no “poor people equivalent” Well then--how do poor people rave on boats? They...don't. That doesn't seem fair. Yeah--where's the equality? There's no such thing as equality in poverty! Actually-- HAH. THEY CALL IT “GOD'S COUNTRY” I'm not taking responsibility for this. I didn't do this. “IN GOD WE TRUST” NO, that just means; the trust is empty. It's empty. This...this used to be a reservoir. It still is...a reservoir. Of water. Oh. It's a “Christian Nation?” Christian? What's a Christian? It's-- NO. Jesus, listen. NO. YOU LISTEN: FUCK. THAT. FUCKTHAT. Oh, he was mad. He was pretty mad. He still is, mad. He is, pretty mad. Dad, what happened? It doesn't matter, it just had to happen. Why did it ‘have' to happen? If you have even to ask; I don't have an answer. Ogh, dude. I know. It's almost time to go back to work. I know. Oh, my God. I know. How long have we been in this Void--it's so random. [The whole #SQUAD is on Watch.] Hm. What is this? [A look] Can I have some? [Another look.] I like it. I want it. [The Look.] I'mma try it out. OK. __ Ask Him! He knows! How to get to Skrillex? (still censored) Yes--you know. He knows. You know, right? I don't know. What? I--? IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. (It didn't happen.) Fuck. NO dude, I found it--I just don't remember how… Do you remember when? Ah, I remember my first Skrillex. I don't. Oh My God dude. Flip Flops? Yes, my feet are killing me. [Skrillex ]is in 10 minutes. Actually, 9. The Hotel is 7 minutes away.; The car is parked in Valet; If we leave now, we can make it back by the time it starts, I swear. You SWEAR? __ Ooh...Beyonce...I like her. We all like her. Give her something nice. Nice. Very nice. Very nice. What do you want her to dress as? Oh her? ...she can come as herself. [the next part] Yo FUCK the Met Gala; I'm going to THIS shit. What? You were invited? I want to be invited! How did you get an invite? ((Oh, you can't write that)) Damn right I won't. Lol, she had her dress as Beyonce. That's cold. She stole Umbrella! She stole it first! It wasn't even written for her--! It wasn't written for anybo-- Actually, it was written for ME. Oh yeah, huh. Why does this song have 32 writers on it? What the fuuuuckkk... What. We have [Skrillex.} Skrillex. How did you get a [Skrillex?] Just--[Skrillex.] “Just [Skrillex”?] The Original. Oh, shit. The Original [Skrillex.] Like, the first one? First one ever. Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] I didn't take it. STFU “didn't take it”--Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] Oh what--[Skrillex?] We have [Skrillex!] You do? Of course we do! It's paradise. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. If that man sits at a piano, I will pass out... Oh wow, he plays piano...hmm. I will faint. How did he DO this? This Volcano emits *this* frequency. Ah, try this-- Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. Oh. I know this one. Do you? Yeah! Bruh. I'm about to take a lot of drugs right now; I'm just calling to tell you that I love you. What happened? Nothing happened. I'm just like this now. What's that? Nothing! What is it? Nothing! It's [Skrillex], isn't it. I don't get how he DID this. Someone give this man an honorary doctorate. Think about it like this; if all this is happening to you, and you have-- --No Grammys-- --and he's got-- --Eight Grammys. Eight Grammys, really? Damn, what the fuck. I know, right? Right. So. If he has eight Grammys--and you have none-- --zero Grammys-- --and you're experiencing this right now-- Damn, what the fuck happened to him? [Over the phone] ...She shat in my Grammys. What! All Eight of Them? YES. I didn't shit in his Grammys. You didn't? NO! Well, that's good, because-- I hired other people to shit in his Grammys. What? Best $80 I ever spent. Why are we terrorizing [Skrillex?] He started it. He did start it. See, this is why I like him--he doesn't ask questions. What? You hired 8 different people to shit in his Grammys. Yeah! Dude, that is disgusting! Dude. You hired three different photographers to take professional photoshoots of my dick. Look; These were all done on location; we went to Catalina...it was kind of cold though-- WHAT THE FUCK. Dude, this is like 9 lawsuits. Well, actually, one of them is a Class Action, so that's actually like a dozen actual complaints rolled into one; I don't know why they do that. {SupaCree has arranged literally “many seats” for both Skrillex, and Dillon Francis.] {Sweet Brown's Monologue: Well, Sweetie, I'll tell you what; That's a tough way to go. I'll give you one more go at it; and She Stole All of our Music! All of it? NO! Just the HITS! (awws) ‘ATROCIOUS C' ? What the fuck is THIS? Hmmm Atrocious C and the-- Wait--what was it called again? Oh shit. Black Jack Black. That was it. Right? Yeah, that was the original joke, I think. You think? Yeah, I think--But then I remembered Atrocious C Wait, Atrocious C was a real thing? YEAH dude, it was my cover band in college. COVER BAND IN COLLEGE? YEP. Black Jack Black Black Jack. Oh no. Yep, he was there. Remember that $10,000 I gave you yesterday, and you said you didn't want it? Yeah… I need it back. No. What? You said you didn't want it! Yeah, then you made me take it anyway, so I spent it! Well, what'd you spend it on?! Dude, where are we going? If I knew, then it wouldn't be an adventure! Please, no [Skrillex.] PUMP THE SHIT. Dude, is that [Skrillex?] Go the other way. What? Why? TURN AROUND . Seriously, what was that? TURN AROUND. “Turn arouuund” She wrote the whole...movie. What the fuck is a “movie”? I should record this. “record” ? OK, FIRST OF ALL. [Skrillex] has Magic Powers. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHUTTHEFUCKUPPPPPP. Wow, 14 Pages. What...language is this... -It's In English -It's in [Skrillex.] YOU KNOW I CAN'T READ-- Ugh, yeah, I can translate this. It's alphanumeric.. You algebraic motherfucker. Damn. Is he still over there? Yeah. Goddamn. …. Goddamn. Hey. Uh. Come in. ...it's nice in here. It is. ...did you take out a wall? Window. Oh. Okay. Yeah. Where's Dillon? Oh, he's... chillin. {Dillon Francis is sleeping like a-- No dead baby jokes. I wasn't going to make a- [He's laid out, alright.] How long has he been sleeping like this? ...I don't know...awhile. How long's “awhile”? We've been trying to call him. I know. I have his phone… That explains the inspirational breakfast messages. What? I stopped getting mine! I found your preceding messages to be in bad taste. CUT TO: Everyone is laid out. She is going through their phones. Woah. This is a lot of tits. So many tits. Tits. Tits. Tits. Oh hey--look at these. Oh, I don't like that. What is that? CUT BACk: Oh, you saw that…? I saw that. And I deleted that. And I blocked your number. (shamefully) Oh. On everyone's devices. What the fuck. Permanently. Oh. Yeah...You should go, now. [Does] Dude, she has me carrier locked with every provider in the united states; I had to get a burner just to try to get through to all of my contacts everytime I try to make call it somehow gets intercepted. Hahah. he had to get a burner. Haaaah. wow , you really did it this time. Now I can listen to their calls. What? That's impossible-- NO IT ISN'T dude. I don't know how she's doing this--it's like every time I--HELLO? --What? Hello? Hello? Hm. Haaah, I disconnected them. Dude, what are you doing to these DJs? FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJ'S. And that guy over there. Hey, who is that guy anyway? I don't know...he kind of looks familiar… Yeah, he does...I...I think I might have seen him perform once… Preform? Perform what? Music? … YEAH, HE DOES MUSIC! I REMEMBER. THIS GUY'S A DJ. ...I'm...not a DJ. HE'S A DJ. LETS GET HIM. What does he do? Who, that guy? [Skrillex.] I don't know. What's up, I'm “Not A DJ”--- YOu should probably be careful with it... Careful with it. Be careful with it, it's limited [Skrillex.] Limited [Skrillex.] Mmhmm. Lets get it. We probably shouldn't. Mm. I feel like we should Dude, it's limited. ___ Cosmo and Wanda are on their way to The Event Cosmo. What? You should probably stop drinking. Why? You're flying sideways. Alright. Try water. WATAAAAR!! __ Dude, how long have we been dead for? Dead for? Yeah, man. I don't know. Yeah, me neither. She didn't make it. Didn't make it? What do you mean, is she okay? No, I mean--she's dead… WHAT? That's not ok. I don't get it, what is she doing? This is just how she does it, shut up. Yeah, but what is she doing? [Skrillex!] He's here? He's here! I gotta go! Get gone! [Skrillex?!] Yuh! Fuhck! If he's here, then i'm already late. Late for what? Pretty much anything, you name it. His...Name...Is… DON'T SAY ITl DON'T SAY IT! DON'T SAY IT! He's been sleeping for...several days. [Still Staring At The Sky} Who DID this!? Explain it to me! Explain it to you? I can't explain to you! Are you seeing this? I'm in it! Everything's in it! __ Bruh. I know, dude. A little man climbed out of my sub this morning, and I'm just saying---I don't know if I can take it. I don't know how I'd take that, either. I can't take it. There's just one thing you should know: What? When the bass drops, so do we. DROP. What did you do with Dillon Francis? SUPACREE I don't know. I can't remember. MORGAN You “don't remember.” DILLON'S ASSISTANT What did you do with that bitch?! DILLON FRANCIS I don't know! I don't remember! DILLON'S ASSISTANT You “don't remember?” [Noone remembers.] Deadmau5: I remember. Deadmau5 Remembers Everything. This is why he is “like that.” WHY AM I LIKE THIS. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS. I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REMEMBER. So wait--Deadmau5 knows the entire story? well , yeah. Wait, which story? All of them. What the fuck! ___ SUPACREE Happy Birthday! (he is canadian, so he is morbidly polite) JOEL/DEADMAU5 Thanks. SUPACREE You're welcome. JOEL/DEADMAU5 K. SUPACREE So. BOTH YAH! [they both draw their rave weapons] JOEL/DEADMAU5 WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SUPACREE I AM IN “THE FUCK” YOU'RE “THE FUCK”, YOU DICK. Here's your gift. [She tosses it.] JOEL/DEADMAU5 (he opens the box, unseen from the view of the audience) Oh, Gosh--this is... actually exactly what I wanted. SUPACREE I know dude. JOEL/DEADMAU5 UH-WHO ARE YOU? SUPACREE I'm YO(U) . [They do not battle. He just accepts it.] ___ Have you seen this rock? It's...not a rock, it's… Well, have you seen it? Yeah I've seen it. It's pretty sick. Yeah… (Delirious) Oh My God--A Tiny Man...with a tiny scythe…. I am not a man. PRINCE: I'M NOT A WOMAN. ---he changed his name to a symbol. PRINCE: I'M NOT A MAN. “is [_____________]” a boy or girl PRINCE: I AM SOMETHING YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. DILLON FRANCIS Oh, Jesus Christ. JESUS CHRIST What dude. What the fuck do you want? What? DILLON FRANCIS Wait, you're...Jesus----Jesus-Jesus??? JESUS CHRIST If you insist on still calling me that, I told you ages ago... DILLON FRANCIS (to himself) ...that makes so much sense…Jesus… JESUS CHRIST Hm? … Hey wait--are you still--sleeping--kind of? … *wakes instantly* Sleeping? Who's sleeping? I'm not sleeping! Chel. HUH. [they squint at each other suspiciously] GERALD WHO'S THE PINATA NOW, BITCH?! SUPACREE Oh, my God, Gerald! Get a hold of yourself!!! DILLON FRANCIS WHAT HAVE I DONE!? GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? CHAK CHEL Dillon--What have you done. SUPACREE WHAT--DID YOU--DO. DILLON FRANCIS Just...Voodoo. GOD VOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (She's mad.) ((Oh, she's so mad)) (((Mad, what's that?))) ___ Bruh. She bleached my asshole. What! Yeah. And then tie dyed it. Trending: Rainbow Taint. Bro. How did you even find out about that? [-creative ways you might find out, your junk has been permanently altered.] What, it's PERMANENT. Dude, how Am I supposed to explain my LITERALLY Blue Balls? >RAVE> --I”M BLUE DA BA DE, DA BU DI__ I thought it was “Da BU Di--Do-Bu-DI” THE BEATLES Obblah-di, Oh Blah-da; Life goes on, brah-- La-Da-Da-Da-Life goes on. I don't know. I might be a writer. She's a writer. She's a writer! Oh No! She's a rider. Oh, that's robust. ___ MORGAN Oh My God--It was that big? (Nods) PAGE You'd never know. SUPACREE ...I knew it... MORGAN What did you do with it? SUPACREE I just wrapped it around my leg and tucked it into my sock, most the time. MORGAN Oh, wow. SUPACREE Yeah. I had to layer, the tube socks. MORGAN That's--wow. PAGE Yeah. I mean. When you're right, you're right. MORGAN You're right. SUPACREE I just get confused about it when I see him in shorts now. [SKRILLEX in shorts.] (She cocks her head to the side and squints, staring very suspiciously) (Later) We find that -- Woah. What. This is ridiculous. It is. [Skrillex] is Ridiculous. It is. So wait. This dudes dick. Oh my God. Is so long-- –right He just opens up a portal to another dimension, so he has some place to put it while he's doing business-- __ What is this. __ --So it doesn't get in the way. Lol. Pocket Portal. Why did you DO this? Who did this? ___ SIR. SKRILLEX STOP CALLING ME THAT. SIr, it was “not enough.” What? ___ I don't get it, so he's like a psychic? [Skrillex] is a psychic. Mm. No. No, he isn't. Uh, yes he is. No, he's not. He's just from the future, so he knows what's in it. Oh. Which future? All of them. Wait, which human era? ... Oh, I've seen the movie. How could you see the movie, it doesn't exist yet? Oh. It exists. What? It does? Yes. And It is fucked up. Like, in a good way? just FUCKED UP. Bruh. I went to go see [Skrillex] last night. Oh shit. How was it? IT WAS FUCKED UP Like, in a good way? JUST-- I JUST-- I JUST, ADJUST. There. There it is. Adjust. I don't see anything. Veer Weest. There! There! Right! There! *gasps* Wait, I think I see it. I see something. Wait. Is that. Adjust. *gasp* it's moving. It is moving, It appears to be moving. ___ I can't just leave it, they'll find it--I have to keep moving it. You can't keep moving it--the planet can't handle it. There are still humans on it! I know there are still humans on it, that's where I left them; but I can't just put it back, and I can't just leave it out here for the Inter--Galactic-- Interdimensional-- Whatever! I'm not just gonna leave it here for some aliens to turn into a trash planet.It's not a trash planet. (It's, basically a trash planet) It's a trash planet. Okay, well--it's my trash planet! And. I already annihilated--or, am in the current process of--annihilating all the evil soulless demon people-things. All the Bad Things. It has a lot of badness. Yes, but recently less badness. Kind of. And also less water. Everyone's thirsty now. But...I mean, we always were, kind of. Especially in LA. What is your process? This is it. Look. Look,This planet-- Trash Planet-- Trash--Look. Its full of primitive species-- OKay-- And also, other things that shouldn't be there. Alright. And it's almost dead. Or dying. Or...dead already. It's dead. It's a dead trash-planet. But I can't let anything [else] happen to it. CHINESE WOMAN --AND DEN-- You caused an entire apocalypse. Well, they called me fat, so. Well great; What are you going to do with your dead post apocalyptic trash planet? You can't keep expanding everlasting galaxies just so you can stuff this piece of crap planet into voids. Aha-Ha. IT'S FUCKIN--AHA-- W-Wait. Where did it go? Where did he go? Where did she go? How did I get here? How DID she get there? I've been looking for you everywhere! That sucks… Where were you? Nowhere. Like, the only place I didn't check! It was the first place I checked. You checked? Yes. He wasn't there. He's not in there. He's not on the lineup. [pause] I know how to get her here. ___ DUDE ___Dude, I don't know how you did this! How did you DO this? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE Look, it's a long story. DUDE Well make it a short one. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE *sighs* Look. I was jumping up and down, during my set, like usual--okay. OKay. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE So I….dropped the bass, and then… CHINESE WOMAN AND DEN? DUDE —And then? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE And then…(looks off, into the distance, for a moment) I went up, the bass went down; My dick went sideways, and forward-- DUDE --sideways and forward, at the same time-- SKRILLEX/SUPACREE >>>Yes. It was a lot. ___ Yo. What's his power. I don't know. I know you know. Everybody knows you know. What's his power. Ask him. Dude, I know you know it; Just tell me. “Macbook Bro” It's Apples Take on Music Production. Yo dude, these are flying off the shelves. ___ Dude. I jus' joined the mile high club. No way. Yes way. With who? Myself. Nice. It was great. __ So you're telling me-- I'm telling you--what I was told-- That they put him on a helicopter in the middle of the desert-- ---Black Rock City-- Whatever--Burning man--middle of the desert-- _-Yeah-- --Right. And then flew him to-- --”an undisclosed location”-- --okay-- ___ To her surprise, some big-time hollywood producers have taken an interest in her script,; Because she has no formal work experience in the industry, she is being “coached” by seasoned industry professionals as the Film Goes into Pre-Production Okay, I actually just had a few questions about the script… Go ahead, I was wondering about this scene with [Skrillex.] [...Skrillex?] What [Skrillex?] It's...pages… No. It isn't. There's no [Skrillex.] He is introduced as a character in Act... No, [Skrillex ]isn't in this. He...is...I'm...looking right at it. What page? Pages 45, thru… [C.C. (a.k.a. ‘Stone' omits page 45 from all of her written works.] “45” Yeah. There's no...come here. What. Come over here. Let me s

____ I guess it just is what it is, then Comin fresh out the whip, like, “I'm off hiatus” Gonna jump for a swim in the ‘bitch,' Itchin drive me crazy; Gonna need 6-10 stitches, the doctor say He's in big business, with the witch Tengris– Gotta play Tennis while I watch Tenet all in ten minutes (On my small engine/indjun) Turn around do a spin, drift like i'm Ben Ten, And it's intense, like I been campin, –Then I ditched Skrillex. Just moved in, but it's been lived in Set some new intentions, Get bent, got some new addictions, spin zen, got some new additions Big Wig like I'm Hamilton in some New Editions Did some big mentions, I should send dick pics. Watch this. “It's Dillon Francis” Now I'm real famous, But i'm still nameless– I just made the game up, Still got jealous haters *coughs* I should say Gel-ous Cause she got her nails did *indjun; American slang for native or indigenous peoples of Northern America. [THE FESTIVAL PROJECT.] _________ [Three cross dimensions are about to collide into a singular reality. Three hospital rooms, three ensembles, three patients on their deathbeds;] Three Cities, Three Main Stages At Three Major Music Festivals. Three superstar DJs at the decks. Did we make it? Is it too late? Is she gone? Where is she? Are you serious? We're never gonna make it. NO! 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? 3 dimensions: Wait, what happened? "Are you okay?" This isn't happening. Do we have time? Never say Never. -We'll never make it -Don't say that! Are you ready? Yo, where IS she? He's like, crazy or something. She's crazy. This is craaaaazy. Ok, first of all-- Go! Go! Go, now! -So, she already told you beforehand? -Yes. NO! YES! YAAAAAAS. All dimensions: No/NO NO, OH GOD NO-- "YES, OH MY GOD" (sampled) (What?) "JESUS." (Sampled from, Coffee Run) (What?) Don't-- What are you doing here? (Angrily) Ū!!!! It's YOU! A group dancing to Soulja Boy (Youuuuuuuu!) (Rollercoaster sample from Scatta) I don't know, he's been, you know-- -Did you know? -No… -DID YOU KNOW? Know what? What? What is what? (From Deathbed) ...Water… Surprised reactions, at the bedside -Run! -How much time do we have? -Take all the time you need. Time...Ah, yes, I--yes, I remember Time... She says it all the time, I didn't think she'd actually– He's gone. She died, right? ------------ "Running Out Of Time" [Frazzled and haggardly beaten, having exhausted everything attempting to unravel an endless web of timelines tied together ultimately by inevitability, he frantically rifles through his apartment, tearing through every corner, fiending for any energy source. He uplifts the couch cushions, tossing away various (insert easter eggs here) objects, empty portal guns, as the vibrations from a buzzing phone alert him of an incoming call, he fishes armpit deep into the crevices, red faced and cracked lips, cursing: --c'mon, c'mon--how did this get so fucking DEEP. God DAMN IT-- ------ By Chak Chel's bedside, The Ascended Masters are gathered surrounding a weak and lifeless GOD/Chak Chel in her absolutely oldest physical body. Oh man, I don't think she can handle many more of these Damnations, it's just more and more damage… I told you we should have Destroyed that damn planet! She created that planet-- It's not about the planet, it's the inhabitants. If we annihilate humanity now, the planet itself may regenerate with time… Time…? I-- They all turn their heads toward Chak Chel, as she drifts back out of consciousness. PAUSE *EDIT* What? Just– What!? What would it be like to listen to some Skrillex right now? NO. NEVER AGAIN. [Thinking, drifts away.] *listening to deadmau5, thinking about Skrillex* Hmnnn. Moar Ghosts N' Stuff. *Synth Drops In* Nope, I'm Good lol. CUT TO: I told you I could be Joel's cat. Oh, wow, nice. JOEL NO, MEOWINGTONS, NYO !!!!!!!! Meheh. UNPAUSE CUT BACK TO: She's so lost to time... If she succumbs under this darkness, it could be eons before The Light is restored. It may never be. INSOLENT CREATURES! Perhaps we should prepare for invasion. Invasion? They are primitive beings, barely reached the outer realms of consciousness-- We'd be waging an all-out war, on an intergalactic scale; the magnitude of this could ripple through --infinite-- --infinite dimensions-- This is everything. Everything is Everything. Pft. Yeah--until it's nothing-- Oh, yeah--just add to the amount of negative energy-- might as Well just push her into The Void. I'll push you into The Void. Nothing I haven't been through. Yeah, dude, we've all been through The Void. ...I am The Void... I was at THE ASCENSION! Where were you?? (They argue loudly.) [The Crypt Keeper Lurks Silently in the corner.] Guys. [The room is in upheaval, an outroar of arguments have erupted amongst the Gods, the Ascended Masters and other chosen leaders from each realm throughout the multiverse. ] ...Shhht, quiet... [The Crypt Keeper slowly lifts up her staff, in slow motion ] (SUPACREE shakes her head at the crypt keeper, gesturing "no, don't" ) Guys. [As the crypt keeper lowers her staff, SupaCree begins to emit a shining white light.] GUYS! THE CRYPT KEEPER CHARGES HER STAFF INTO THE GROUND, SHAKING THE WORLD WITH A THUNDEROUS FORCE, THREE TIMES. The fabric of the entire multiverse begins to shatter. The room cowers in fear and uncertainty. CHAK CHEL (very weakly) Where's Dillon…he...he should be back by now… Wait, Dillon- Dillon WHO!? Dillon Francis? Wait--what? Dillon Francis, are you serious? Oh, God-- --Shh-- Sorry, I just--seriously--? Dillon Francis. It's always Dillon Francis. Tell me about it, Jesus Christ-- --SHH--!! It's fine, I put the light inside of that one. What light? You put the Divine light of The Source inside of that guy? I'm not a--wait--what light? What's a "Dillon Francis?" We had to hide it. CHAK CHEL Dillon? ...he...he should be here by now,-- I--I have to give him more time… Wow, Dillon Fucking--the whole time– (Tying into the dimension where SupaCree has just divulged that her favorite DJ is Dillon Francis.) That's her apprentice? What! Explains how he's always everywhere, I guess-- Except here. --yeah, where IS he anyway? Yeah, I mean--he should have been here awhile ago. What the fuck does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? I mean really. [The Gods have quietly moved into a secret chamber, hidden from the rest of the–] WHAT THE FUCK. WHO did this? We had to act quickly-- It was a unified decision; DECISION BY WHO? [They fall quiet.] WHOSE idea was it to hide the Divine light of the source within this--this--imperfect and flawed excuse for a body? What genetic catastrophe allowed for this creature to have been created? Her genetic code is what allowed us to be able to-- --THE GODS ARE CREATED IN OUR IMAGE! WHAT TAINTED IMAGE IS THIS? ITS AS IF SATAN CREATED IT, IF SATAN COULD-- ...Satan Sealed The Shield... [The Gods all react in surprise and horror.] ...What… WHAT? You entrusted SATAN with the encryption of The– Not me. Chak Chel. WHAT? ...what? Why would...why would… Why would she trade her immortality for– She sacrificed her connection to The Source? What for? She would sacrifice anything to save humanity from extinction. She...loves that planet, and its inhabitants. She believed in the overall good of humankind, that they could one day come to know Love. To Be Love. She was created and designed specifically to be the embodiment of life and light itself-- The Prophecy (III) [THE ASCENDED MASTERY has assembled, the ensemble shieled by an ‘inpenatrable' invisible forcefield; SUPACREE senses the energy field, Which she walks into, nonchalantly.] She has awakened her consciousness far more quickly than was ever expected-- The Origins Once we send her back, she will have been three times resurrected from Death. How is she to bring these...this planet so drowned in darkness into the light? She can. She will. She has. There have been innumerous witnesses to the manifestations and miracles the power of the light has given her. And she's yet to use the entirety of the Source power to its full potential. Still, these instances of power manifestation have left a shockwave amidst many, even the Prophets, as foretold have discussed a solidified following amongst the alchemists, sorcerer-- --even mortals who have come to practice in the occult sciences-- She has believers. (Uhh...I think it's a cult. What's a cult?) In the dimension where the world has succumb to darkness-- -The Mormons!? -Oh, really? Hm. -Jesus. [Enter Mormon Jesus] In the same reality, Which SUPACREE has been trapped in for nearly a eternity in entirety now, she sits drenched in sweat inside her car, as onlookers from the surrounding affluent neighborhood peer into the vehicle with disgust; she looks much like a crackhead talking to herself; however, Jesus, Neva, Se7en and Goldie's anamorphosis personifications by The Guardian Angels accompany her, Avicii, also omnipresent, but unable to be seen or heard in the material reality, even between The Spirit World, which SUPACREE has journeyed deeply into, in search of Chak Chel--who has consistently been leaving hints in Nature, guiding her eventually into "God" (A Long Drive, With You, Friends) A very Jewish woman sneers, glaring at SUPACREE through the window. Telepathically, very loud and disapproving of here mere presense. (CONT'D) … She just doesn't believe in herself. The Darkness has been working to weaken the potential of The Light for quite some time now. There is an evil in the power of man, darkness in the consumption of currency-- --she's been targeted by her own country as an enemy, which the world powers see as a threat-- --her, a threat--? --she had political ambitions. These men wage war over currency, the hypocrisy of religion. America. She has the ability to be one of the most powerful leaders in human history. She acts instinctively in Love. A target? Her world has been long lost from love, succumbed to the darkness, the primitive error of man. Greed. She has overcome more alienation, more life altering loss of light in just this lifetime than can And, has been raised by the shepherds and priests in the teachings of the great kingdom. She brings herself to Death in despair and sadness. She cannot live with the power of The Source Light in the loss of Love; the pain becomes too great. And now? She's been bestowed by the ancients the wisdom of her true origins. So she knows… She knows that in the absence of Love, there is no Life left to light. Love is the thing that weaves together the fabric of space and time. Reality Is… AH, JESUS CHRIST! SUPACREE appears behind DILLON FRANCIS in the doorway silently. The Bampheramph Line rings, he hopes it is Hanzel--it is Chak Chel--he rolls his eyes, tossing his phone to the side You should probably answer that. DILLON FRANCIS You should probably shut the fuck up, how about that? SUPACREE Relax. I need you to listen to me--remember that thing-- DILLON FRANCIS Which THING? EVERYTHING? Like EVERYTHING IS EVERYTHING, EVERYTHING? Like that!? Huh! SUPACREE ...yes, it's that exactly, actually. DILLON FRANCIS. "Exactly, actually--actually," SUPACREE appears in full form, out of the translucency of the higher realms and into the personification of the third dimensional realm. SUPACREE Come on, dude, we don't have time for this! DILLON FRANCIS Time? What the fuck is time? SUPACREE Come on, Dillon, we really don't have time for this, I'll explain it-- DILLON FRANCIS Explain it when? When you have time? [He turns to see her, standing in the doorway; A simple plain white T shirt and blue jeans.] (gh0st.) SUPACREE I'm trying to tell you, dude. It's time. DILLON FRANCIS Wait, why do you look--wait, which dimension is--whats different about--wait (Sampled "Wait", at the crosswalk) sneakers launch from the sidewalk and into the busy intersection, in a sprint. "Two genres: Hardstyle, and Country." "I don't know what the 3rd world war will be fought with, but the 4th will be with sticks and stones." This begins the battle against "good" and "evil", " darkness" and "light", "life" and "death"--but as the Source, Gods and Ascended Masters all know, that all are one in the same--that these concepts only exist within a primitive human psyche. The collective consciousness of "hybrids", hyper-intellectual "human" individuals with extraterrestrial origins and ancient ancestors, predating the human era (which some distant--even technologically-- advanced beings amongst intelligent civilizations throughout the cosmos infinite galaxies ever expanding throughout the outer realms of the multiverse, all of consciousness "And there is no "all", because infinite means that it has yet to end." *Moving sand (the universe) into a giant space dump truck/space dump.* ...is that all of it? SŪPA and SKRILLEX, after both having been involuntarily flung "around" an infinitely expanding universe, are finally head to head after hunting each other in realms beyond time and space for literal eternities; The peak of their confused fury comes to a face-to-face blowout, to which the likes the Heavens nor the Underworld ever have seen. In dimensions where people are tuning in on multi/interdimensional cable, the audience is glued to their seats. (People in rural areas are going through obscene and ridiculous lengths to get a signal so that they can tune in. ENTER THE MULTIVERSE: RICK AND MORTY MORTY Ohhh, oh shit Rick! I-its that show, with the--uhh, uhhh... RICK Which 'uhh-uhhs', Morty--the big ones, or the little ones? MORTY Uhhh–'Flying Magic DJ Monkey Unicorn Space...Wars...I think. RICK Oh, you mean ‘Space Rave? You mean like, where they're at a rave *belch* in-in-in Space? Or something like that? MORTY No, it's Monkey Flying Magic DJ...Monkey… RICK --You said "monkey" twice-- MORTY (CONT'D) ...Space Wars… RICK I don't know, Morty--last time I allowed myself to participate in a music festival, it got, uh, *coughs* It got pretty deep. Flashback: DILLON PICKLE FRANCIS// PICKLE RICK Flashback Within Flashback :The Hellavator Flashback within Flashback Within Flashback: SŪPA dropping the bass, eliminating RIck and Morty/justin roiland (and Dan Harmon, I guess) from existence in entirety. RICK ...yeah, I uhh. Let-uh-let me see that. [He takes the remote control from morty, switching between the channels. They are all SupaTV original series, eventually skipping past 'Ricky and Mo', an over stereotypically alternate Rick and Morty, where the characters are black. (And features an animated Ricky (from Run Ricky Run) as its main character. RICK [w/MORTY] What the-- MORTY Go back, Rick! Everybody's favorite DJ is about to battle her favorite DJ. RICK --who, what? H-h-holdon-- MORTY, rushing over to the television, hurriedly switches the channel back manually to its original channel, from a dimension where the drama has been documented as a melodramatic soap opera meets gameshow. ANNOUNCER [W/MORTY] DUEL! RICK Duel the wha--oh my God, what is she doing with that chicken wing--? Ū! RICK This is just, brutal-- MORTY That was just a highlight. The boss fight is live. RICK Boss fight... Live--wait a minute--i know that lady! F I G H T. [HANZEL and GRETL are, of course, selling scalped tickets and portal guns to fans who have been following along as the series progresses, They play a 'Deep Deep Deep Bass House' HANZEL (it's a new genre) B2B set, which emits a magical low frequency bass, opening teleportals which immediately transport attendees into the Colosseum, where a furious SONNY/SKRILLEX and a rage-fueled SŪP∆CREE have "randomly" (actually, the result of a carefully planned (and in some dimensions/worlds, failed series of coordinated efforts from various sides, creating wormholes, time gaps, opening (and/or closing) portals with certain intentions, and creating "coincidences" between their two worlds which ultimately expand or collapse the respective universes within the multiverse at their centers. [The festival is in full swing; Behind the scenes, our beloved DJs ready themselves accordingly. ] Everybody's there. (Also, this is where "Everyone's a DJ now" gets really out of control.) *spoiler alert* DJ battle underway. This is the all-out cage match of magic music ninja All the Rave Weaponry. All the Jesus. Everything. The calm before the storm: The theatre and excitement of the largest scale highest production quality and rave culture values ever known to man (or otherwise). A living, breathing ECO system which expands outward, the Colosseum at it's center, where sparkles with the decadence of the Mainstage. Unassumingly, strolling along stage right SKRILLEX sips on a refreshing beverage--surrounded by his entourage and bodyguard, as per the usual. Stage left, SŪPA and her #squad are big chillin', eating lollipops, ice cream cones, popsicles, and cupcakes… super classy. *supaclassy. DILLON FRANCIS lurks nervously in the background. (He's in the background of every scene, in different clothing, Bampheramphing hectically and sweating bullets. *probably on something. In some cut scenes he is in SŪPA's entourage, in drag--eating a taco, or hot wing rather than candy. He is still being flung around the infinite multiverse, both with purpose and intention for each "side", and has become something of a omni-agent, completing tasks within the multiverse for almost every force imaginable (and yet to be imagined, infinitely forever after.) SŪP∆, after being transported through a multilayered wormhole, threaded across the Insomniac (and live nation) festivals and concerts she's attended throughout the years and dimensions. Uncertain of which actual realm and dimension she's ended up in, (obviously, one where her SŪP∆ Brand has become a success, realizing her dreams of becoming a "superstar DJ") without the panel, she must summon her forceful energy and light magic by combining her natural intuitive powers and ancient knowledge insight. She performs various tests within her current reality, as she 'attempts' to recover and pull herself back together, having been only just moments ago cosmically annihilated for a series of infinite eternities, whilst looking for Skrillex. Luckily, she still possesses the Golden Flash drive. It is the final of her array of rave weapons, and by far most powerful. Skrillex is Skrillex. They lock eyes from across the stage. An explosion. -blam- (MIND = BLOWN.) (((throughout the dimensions))) AAARE YOU READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEE TV VIEWERS: nervous/excited/scared/happy/sad MORTY Oh, shit! It's on! It's on! OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. HE SEEN HER! HE SEEN HER! *tribal dancing*/chanting* DILLON FRANCIS from center Sees SŪP∆CREE seeing SKRILLEX, squinting in confisiouson (when you think so hard, you momentarily turn into confucius.) She's mad. DILLON FRANCIS Oh--NOOO. He snaps his neck in the opposite direction, to see SKRILLEX seeing SŪP∆CREE, squinting Skrillex-y. (That's extra, extra hard.) He's mad. DILLON FRANCIS OH GOD, NO! He morphs into DILLON GLANCES and DILLON FLANCES, respectively. (3) Wtf is this like a fucked up shadow-clone juitsu? Just– DILLON FRANCIS (To Dillon Glances: giving him the Golden Flash drive) I have to--I gotta--just take th- DILLON GLANCES I can't. DILLON FRANCIS You CAN. DILLON GLANCES I can't. I'm not a DJ. DILLON FRANCIS Everyone's a fucking DJ, DO IT. DILLOn GLANCES Jesus. DILLON FRANCIS: JUST DO IT. [They run off in three seperate directions: DILLON FRANCIS runs to center stage, attempting to prevent the all out massacre of DJ dueling about to take place…] DILLON FLANCES runs into the festival's huge and quickly growing-crowd, as people literally appear out of various portals and wormholes from all over the multiverse. crowds of party goers, exiting them, attempting to open portals to evacuate them to a less fragile timeline. DILLON GLANCES, who is–in fact– not a DJ, a Bampheramph, or time traveler of any sort.. (by any purposeful means, anyway. He " just kind of gets "sucked in to this shit") —eventually crowning him as an Honorary Bampheramph (which people hate, because it's still an extension of Dillon Francis.) —-posing as Dillon Frances, steps up to the decks SKRILLEX and SŪP∆ charge towards each other furiously-- Nobody knows what to do. As they draw closer to each other, radiating in fury and anger, they each explode. SŪP∆: YOÜ. SKRILLEX: YOŪ. They charge forward. BOTH: AHHHHHHHH!!!! An energy field opens; invisible energies take on color and shape in the outer worlds. Reality shifts. yelling. BOTH: WHERES MY MUSIC? BOTH: YOUR MUSIC?! BOTH: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SKRILLEX: No, who the fuck are youuu! SŪP∆: NO, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Simultaneously, to stage managers) SŪP∆: what is HE doing here? SKRILLEX: what is SHE doing here? BOTH: I'M ON THE LINEUP. SŪP∆: Of Course you're on the lineup. SKRILLEX Oh please, How did YOU get on the lineup? DILLON FRANCIS *Appearing out of seemingly nowhere, very out of breath and almost dead, still bleeding from open heart surgery through his shirt, face covered in hot wing sauce* Let me explain… BOTH: DILLON FRANCIS?!? BAMPHERAMPHS: ((From across the stage, viewing with Binoculars.)) …Dillon Francis? —Dillon Francis? What is he doing here? –Ugh, Seriously. Dillon Francis Again? DJ RICH AS FUCK Yo, Fuck Dillon Francis. DILLON FRANCIS Yeah, fuck Dillon Francis. … ...Aren't you Dillon Francis…? DILLON FRANCIS [Pointing at himself, on the stage. No, that's Dillon Francis. They turn to look back at the stage, DILLON FRANCIS vanishes. What the-- SUPACREE/SKRILLEX: (Now with anger directed towards Dillon) What are you doing here? DILLON FRANCIS: *Dazed and confused* Uh--I'm on the lineup. SŪP∆: How? SKRILLEX: Why? DILLON FRANCIS: Jesus Christ, I don't know, ok? Just please don't-- SŪP∆: Don't ‘WHAT Dillon Francis? blast this lil motherfucker out of every kind of fathomable existence with a billion giggatwats of NUCLEAR BASS? ! LIKE, THREE PEOPLE (at least) Giggatwats? DOC BROWN Gooodddamn. [GOD is going mad from all the goddamned goddamns. The Hellavator, hanging by not even a thread, has gone into its final stages of devastation and horror, as it nears taking its eternally damning plunge into the nearly infinite caverns of the underworld, Satan's domain of darkness.] Meanwhile, in multiple other dimensions: Have you seen the lineup? Are we going? We're going. We have to go. RAVEEEEE. Ohhhh shit. No. I'm not going. I have to go! Where are you guys going? PASQUALE: (flashback, daisy overalls.) You guys, where are we going? The brothers are looking through a futuristic digital catalogue of intergalactic raves throughout time and space. Yoooooo. What--you find something? Yoooooo. ...is it good? (Shows the lineup, obscured from view of the camera) FVCK. YAS. All the 'yas' SAUCE. All the sauce. Yo what planet is this even; what dimension is this in, like? Says, Earth. Earth?! No fucking way, earth doesn't have raves in any dimension I've ever heard of. [Coming in from other room.] Where doesn't have raves? Earth. Yo, what the fuck is "Earth." Bet you it's fake. Bet you it's not. Check on it. Google. Google Ūniverse is a holographic multidimensional map of their galaxy's known multiverse. They scroll through eons of galaxies, solar systems, planets, and stars the likes of which make our own galaxy, and our own sun appear to be nothing but specs of dust. Where is it? I don't see it anywhere. I told you it was fake. No. Keep going. Further. Keep going… Are you serious, where is this planet. Are you sure it's a planet? It's gotta be. Dude, there's nothing out here. Keep going. To what. This looks like a black hole ate a black whole. Something like that, what's that there? This puny galaxy? I don't think that's a galaxy. Oh, it is… They all tilt their heads, squinting. ...or.. was… They tilt their heads to the opposite side, squinting. ...or might be, someday. Or something. I don't know man, looks kinda fragile. 'Explore' "The Milkyway Galaxy" Ew. What is it? It's so dark. Well yeah, look at that tiny Sol. There's only...wait how many planets--? It's not much. I don't know man--you wanna go to a rave here? That's… (Shows the advertisement) Oh wow… Looks back at our galaxy, with a discerning consideration, then back at the ad, then back up at the "universe" I don't know man. That's way out there. Like...nowhere, actually. [Scrunched face of disapproval] "Earth." Come on guys. I mean-- (Plays promo) [EDC] DAMN. Aight. OKAY. Woooow. They all look back at the map, worriedly. Zooming in on earth. Mmkayyy. Hmmm. Yeah, this thing looks fragile. Yeah,look at that weird axis. (Wobbles) That can't last too long. This entire universe is on the verge of collapse. How did that...even...happen? The whole thing is like... All: huh. ...if we leave now, we can make it, gates open. Over 20 stages, live art, food-- --FOOD-- ...and...wait, that can't be right. This says "free water" WHAT? FREE WATER? OH WHAT. A RAVE SLASH INVASION? we don't have to invade if they're just giving it away FOR FREE. Free. Water. Psh. Water. It's a trap! Could be. Yeah, Free Water. ...it says...the almost the entire surface of this planet is what? What? That seems dangerous. It's almost entirely water, guys. That's impossible. CUT TO: I TOLD YOU. IN-FIN-ATE. Nothing is impossible. But I thought nothing was nothing. Nothing is nothing. It's also something. And everything. Which is also nothing. But I thought everything was everything. Yes, which includes, and simultaneously also excludes but certainly not limited to, nothing. But when does it end? It...it doesn't, it just (gestures)...infinite. you know? So it just...doesn't… Stop? Yeah. No. It just keeps-- Yeah. Going. --and then nothing. Which is something. Yeah, nothing's something. Then what's something. Something's a something-- Anything. Some-thing. Yeah, but 'some' is just 'some' thing, not everything. Yeah, everything--anything. Anything can be something, and something can be anything. Which-- Which means,nothing's nothing--something can be anything, and anything can be something; which is everything. And-- Nothing. --so-- Infinite. “Once Upon A Dillon Francis” Once Upon a Dillon Francis… AGH. No. Start over. Uh, ok. Once upon a Dillon Francis. Stop saying that. Yuck. Why are you saying that? What? Once Upon a Dillon Francis? That makes Dillon Francis sound like Father Time! Yaghh! Okay? You can't say that. Why? Because he isn't. He could be. But he's not. So? Just. Go back. Okay...Once Upon A Dillon Francis. (Groans) Ok. Stop it. This isn't working. Because you're not letting me even-- No story ever started with Once Upon A Dillon Francis. This one might! If it starts with Dillon Francis, where would it-- Imagination is the key to all creativity. You made that up. I'm making up the whole thing! What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything-- He doesn't. Just listen! I'm not listening to anything that starts with Dillon Francis. Well what would you rather me say, once upon a Skrillex? Now that's more like it! No, it's not. It's just unsettling. It is. You know what! Forget it. There's no story. What, because there's no Dillon Francis? Exactly. What? Because. Ï You... I don't know about this Just keep-- This makes me feel some kind of wha. What kind of way every kind of way-- wait. “Remember Ryan” I do remember Ryan “Fuck Dillon Francis” Rich Nigga Shit. And your shirt. So-- So?! Who the fuck is this guy? He's Dillon Francis. No, who the fuck is he?! Not who-- Huh? What. Whatthefuck-- What? WHAT? Hanzel (& Gretl) are originally from Hell or 'The Dark Side', this gives reasoning to their stoic and sometimes henius mannerisms. Halo by Beyonce is multidimensional (listen, study) This car needs some wheels is about loving yourself (and to learn how to love someone else) "The Skrillex" The Cosmic Owl Chak Chel's Family-- The brothers Bampheramphs --old people -&Sonny/old lady in the park dog walking Rick n roll--dillon pickle Francis/pickle rick roll) (rock n roll) will take you to the the mountain No boys allowed//no Skrillex allowed Wait here. Why can't I just come with you? No boys allowed. Can't you see the sign on the door? What sign on the door? She places a sign on the door. Wait here. But. 5 minutes. Walks in, shutting door behind her. But. Opens sliding window hatch on door, peeking out. I'll be right back. But. A note is shoved backwards through the mail slot, and floats down between his feet. He picks it up to read it; it is a blank sheet of paper. He deflates. Gleeful girly cheers and chatter, laughter and and upbeat music from the other side of the door; an obvious party starts inside. Hours pass, Sonny is falling asleep standing up. He hears 3 women approaching, and excitedly shakes himself awake. He stands to the side, posing. What's up! (They cannot hear or see him. he isn't yet aware of the forcefield placed around him, for his protection (as he is being hunted throughout the universe.) Girl: Dude, I can't believe you know Rezz. Hey! Girl 2: yeah that's sooo cool. Girl: Yeah, VIP. Is like-- Girl: Oh my God, I bet it's like so lit. Girl: So Lit. Girl: Oh my God, yeah. I'm definitely doing VIP next year. Girl: Definitely. Girl: So worth it. Girl: So like, what time does it start-start? Girl: ummm, I don't know, but I think we're like early. Early!? Girl: Should I--oh, hey--im getting a call. It's the other DJ, I think she's inside already. (It's Ū) Girl: Hello? What up Ū! Ū? Hey! Heeeeey! Girl: yeah, we're at the door. Ohhhh shit, for real? Ok. (hangs up) yeah, she said she'll be down here in like, 5 minutes. Apparently the music's bumping, they couldn't even hear us at the door. Psh. 5 minutes yeah right. Girl: daynmm. Girl: yeah, there's like 10 famous DJs in there in there right now. Look at this snapchat I got earlier. Daaaam. Lit. I heard there's gonna be more. Is that Allison Wonderland? Allison Wonderland opens the door. Hi Guys! No way! It is Allison Wonderland! Hey!! Come on in guys! Girl: (closest to Sonny, but walking towards the door) wait, did you guys hear that weird. Girl: kind of, not really Girl: yeah I don't really believe in ghosts, but sometimes-- By now, Sonny has noticed that he hasn't been seen or heard by anyone and assumes his likely invisibility. However Allison Wonderland, being a DJ, has the ability to see through this force field (unbeknownst to him that it even exists.) Sonny stands at the door, staring. She stares back expressionlessly, straight into his soul with indifference of his presence. A brief silence, before Sonny furroughs his brows. She just stares at him. ...wait, can you see me? ...No. She shuts the door. Jack and Jill I'm elessian park You left your sister where Doctors A-Z (doctor p's planet; boogie t distant relative) Scary OWSLA (1000 VOLTS, WESTWOOD) GIANT JOSH PANDA THE SOUL SALESMEN THE CIA/FBI/MEN IN BLACK DONT FUCK WITH TIME (IRL) FROZEN SKRILLEX FOREST FIRE (REZZ) Ralph, Wendy, Denny, Trader Joe Mr moto guy Tips>>>SKRILLEX I thought we were done writing these. I guess not. Get the fuck back, Dillon Francis. Woah, I--okay. JUST STEP BACK. That's a gun! It's a bayonet. That's...where did you even get something like that? I time travel. That...makes sense. It has to. Wenzday. She's pretty. Aren't they all. They are. Maybe her. Anyone but you, huh? How would it ever be me? Still don't believe? How could I ever believe. They're all perfect. And Talented. And white. Can't forget white. And thin. Never forget thin. So why would it ever be me? Maybe it wouldn't. Maybe's a maybe. And a Skrillex is a Skrillex. And Sonny's a Sonny. So-- So, Billie Ellish. My Future. See you in a couple years. Its chasing a wild goose. It's chasing monsters and sprites. It's chasing, but only if you're running. Run, Sunni-- Run Sonny-- Run. This goes around in circles. Goes around like seagulls in the sky. Getter. What did getter do? What did Skrillex do? What does Dillon Francis Have to do with anything? Nothing. Jimmy Fallon --was never nothing-- What does Dillon Francis have to do with anything? Still don't know. What about Pasqualle? Still don't know. And Skrillex? Fuck--I really don't know. Don't you? Alright. What do you know? Commonalities. And? Patterns. And…? Red Cups, Beer Bottles, and Pop-Tarts. What's it look like? A shallow pool of hard liquor. So? So, they can afford alcoholism. You see it that way? I don't see. Don't you? That's the same question twice. It's the same question, infinitely. Who are you? Who am I? Exactly. What's your DJ name? Depends on the day. What's your name, now? I'm Sunni. To replace Sonny? Nothing replaces that. What's in the music? An algorithm--a hidden code, maybe? Maybe. Maybe's still a maybe.[ What are they looking for? A savior? Now you've given yourself a God Complex. As if the world already hadn't. The world had, I just refused to accept it. Until? Until everything. At once, right? And nothing. Why does Annie keep coming up? You must be on her mind. I'm dead to her. Who? Exactly. She thinks you'll make up. Please. She's latna and native. And an alcoholic. So. So she's perfect. So she is. I'm not forgiving her. Again. Maybe you don't have to. If the DJs want her, they can have her. She's a perfect storm of a hoe. Hoes are fun. Until they're not. What are you? A ghost. Why does she keep coming up? I don't know. I've had two dreams about her. She misses you. I could give a fuck. You could? IDGAFOS. Happy Birthday, Dillon Francis. But you won't tell him. His fandom will. I'm done inboxing people. These people live on beaches; I'm a grain of sand. So go find your beach. Viva Mexico. Probably so, huh? Probably. Left in a world without people, realizing she is completely alone, Punishment be ones Paradise, as she enjoys all her favorite places, without the pollution, population or politics in her way. The happiest she's ever been, she approaches EMPTY EDC, still perfectly intact with the gates wide open. She runs inside,losing her mind-- and then losing her enthusiasm entirely, realizing she cannot dance in silence, or operate any of the rides by herself (which, in one dimension higher, she uses the power of the mind to start manifesting all the things she needs,creating a perfect EDC) however, in the most limited dimension, where even manifestation can be fathomed, and no use of magic, she sadly strolls through the empty carnival--though, having found solace in the typically overpriced fashion and merchandice apparel, has ransacked the empty and abandoned shops, looking ridiculously ravey, looking like a 3D insomniac billboard, sparkling with Kandi and shining flashing lights. She approaches the front and center of the rail, her usual favorite, as she looks up at the decks of The BassPod. She just looks, as she sips an acai berry smoothie out of a collectible cup. Cree: You look like a fucked up cupcake. SupaCree: You look like a fucked up cupcake, ate a fucked up cupcake, and then put on a sweater. Cree: Hey man. Fat is Fat. I'm in Infinite Eternity: INFINITE EDC, BITCH. SupaCree: Oh yeah? You like being the fattest fat ass dancing fatass at the everlasting motherfucking fatty fattass fat... dance... Cree: Hmmyeahh--Hows it feel being the lastest-fast-having-last past life past-afterlife--flattest -ass-last-fan-of-DillonFrancis-random-dancing-at-the-lostest-awful-rotten-sauced-forgotten-boss-of-not-a-lot-of-bought-a-bag of -frazzled-skrillex-dicks-you-wish-you-licked-but-didnt-cause-they-wouldnt let you in the the artist tent if you farted in it, in -different-dimensions you were in INFINITE but now you're ISNT-ISNT-ISNT IS THE CLOSEST cause you're not a fucking DJ BITCH, YOURE JUST A WISHIN WASHED UP WISHING WELL YOU'RE STILL FAT!! PPL ALTER EGO I wanna look like her! —oh, that's a guy —well, still. For I am just a shadow of what I once was; And all of a fraction of what I would become, Were it not for love There you are. There I was. Oh, my God. How long was I gone? Long. I'm sorry. No, you're not. Oh shit, that sounds F.U.N… FUN!? FUCK YOU, NIGGA! Oh good, the Dolphin On Wheels is here. "THIS. IS. OWSLAAAAAAA" ARE YOU SERIOUS!? Serious as a Dillon Francis Bampheramph. What even IS that? You're looking at it. ________ NO PANTS! what?! (Takes off pants) HEY! NO PANTS, Dillon Francis! Have a banana. I don't wanna banana! I want pants! NO PANTS. gimmie your hat. (Leaves) It is. An Element. Can... I base... my survival solely on elements--is--the question. That is, actually--as it stands, what we were intended to do--I suppose. Elements. Alchemy. Alchemists. Ahhhh. Those. Ahhh. D-- Hmmm. Mmm. Okay. This is gonna take a long time to work out. What doesssss--- ...Hello… Aha-ahaha... ...What does Dillon Francis have to do with this? I don't know. *laughing in 4 different dimensions* I know, right? *snickers* Well, that's another drop in the Fuck-It Bucket Not that Bucket. [honks] Ahe, Hehehe I didn't-- Actually, I did know that-- I did know that-- I did know that I had two Fuck-It Buckets. I had forgotten... about all the buckets. Just like I almost about the Hellavator. How is that going, by the way. Oh what--the Hellevator--or the Party on the Hellevator? Or the scene...where Hanzel's on the...Hellevator with Dillon Francis? I-- *reacts in 4 different dimensions* Oh, wow. I know! It's gonna take forever. Forever's almost nothing compared to an eternity. Yeah--forever is almost nothing, compared to an eternity. *smacks lips* And then that, motherfucker… FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER! Fuck that motherfucker. *sirens sounding* YEP. *blasting magic* Yep. ...yep. This is why we don't need a wand, anymore--because--you see that? Yep. Well, -- you don't see it, Well I mean, that's just part of the joy--you just know. You don't have to see it, you just know. Oh, you mean like... [mimicks ******** ] ..Kinda like that… But…??? Gonna Hit that red dot and never stop What's that--the 4th dimension? Ah, the 4th dimension. The “r” word Yeah, yeah, yeah Like political correctness even matters. The only thing that matters is matter And why have I never been for a Joyride? Last thing I remember, I was having the time of my life... [rifling through things, as Dillon sits down at his desk—he puts on a pair of librarian-like frames, adjusting them to fit at the nose] You don't wear glasses. Uh, I do wear glasses, I am wearing glasses. I just never—you know—thought of you, like— Yeah, well—not all of us are known by our trademark frames. I detect a hint of bitterness. Oh, you can detect that? What device do you have that does that? …...my...senses. Heh, you look like Katey Sagal. I love her. Same. [rifling through papers, doing office things] What's taking so long, Peg? Well, Al, if you must know it's going to take me a minute to get into my ‘Skrillex', it's been awhile. How long's awhile. Hey—you came through my panoramic window demanding Skrillex. Tsh, like it's never happened before. (Or like it's always, never happening) What? Hey—who said that? So how long's this gonna take? I'm gonna need you to exercise patience—that is, if you're familiar with excersise. PATIENCE?! What the fuck is Patience?? Are you done yet? Patience—patience—it's like—it's almost like “patients, like what a doctor has— —oh don't even— *hands up* Not gonna even. … … … Did you— I told you it has been a minute. >>>< >>>>>>> >>>>< What kind of company do you think I keep?! In this installment, which follows Scary Monsters and SupaCree and crosses over into both DILLONCEPTION, and enter the multiverse. Having nearly abandoning the ideal of becoming a superstar DJ, a reality she had previously become certain of, but given up on after being led to believe the DJ world is one ruled by white supremacy, SUPACREE, going by “CC” and operating under the pen name CC stone crafts a somewhat plausible future in entertainment, still creating music under the moniker “Sunni Blu” or DJ U, still passionately attached to Djing, though as a hobby, rather than as a potential career. In a pseudo-suicidal depressive state, our protagonist explores all the infinite realms of her own creation, drifting into a lucid God-Dream in which all the dimensions of her writings exist, in each respective reality, sometimes crossing timelines from one “fictional” realm into another, as the writer struggles with her own self-confidence and self-actualization. We Open With A Blockbuster-Style Movie Trailer. Everyone Is At The Event, Where Everything Happened. She broke everything in my house. Everything? Ev-er-y-thing. Hah, I broke all of his stuff. All of it? Everything, dude. Hehe. All of it. No, Like--Literally, Everyone, Ever. What did you do to this girl? _ EXCEPT… I don't get it. She hates Dillon Francis. She does— hate Dillon Francis. So why would she go to this? [They enter simultaneously.] YOU! YOU! [They charge.] EH. [She-- CUT TO: Sunni Blu is writing a Movie. —- I don't get it, how do I write about magic? I don't know, just say what it looks like--- Cut To: Staring at Skrillex. [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “The World Builders” [Staring at Skrillex.] [It's...an anomaly.] Yeah, she's just been staring at it, I think for… Doesn't matter how long, dude--she's gonna get stuck in it. OF course she's gonna get stuck in it, she doesn't know who built it. ...who did this…? “Think about it; What would you do that would leave a profound effect on Skrillex. I've...been...trying to figure that out, maybe. Pi. Look, it's S U P A C R E E. Oh shit, these are DIRECTIONS. To WHERE, tho? Dude, I have something to tell you. What. It's bad. Why, what happened? It's... look, no one else can know about it, okay? Okay... Oh shit, she's a Trance artist now? Trance? I don't know how to make trance. This one time, I held my breath meditating to it, and I just-- Just what? —- That's it. It just ended. What? Yeaaauhh dude. I don't fuck with Skrillex. For a lot of reasons. … I think I might be a writer. Oh no. She's a writer. Oh, no. ___ Oh, NO. I am not touching that with a $10,000 dollar paycheck! $!0,000--what the fuck am I gonna go with $10,000? ($10,000 is the rich people equivalent of $10) Yo. Poor people will do just about anything for $10. What? No, they won't. Yes they will--hey--watch this. Hey! [guy looks] I'll give you $10 to hop across the street on 1 foot. D1- He just does it See. D2- Does it, gets hit by a bus. See. That guy died. For $10. D3- Does it, gets hit by a bus; but is S U P A C R E E and resurrects instantly, then comes back for vengeance, capturing 2 more. What, she has their souls? Hearts and Souls. Goddamn. (Literally) Well, I told you Jesus quit, right--? Yeah, he's...he left. Jesus is watching “The Movie” So you swim into a port that has a boat. A boat-- Then you get on the boat. Get on the boat. That boat is going to take you to another boat. Okay, another boat. I TOLD YOU THERE WAS ANOTHER BOAT. YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE FIRST ONE HAD TO SINK, TO BOARD IT. Oh, yeah, well--duh. So then--on the second boat-- Well, it's more like a really big Ferry (It's a monstrous cruise ship) Yeah, that shit made groove cruise look like...what's the poor people equivalent of groove cruise? There is no “poor people equivalent” Well then--how do poor people rave on boats? They...don't. That doesn't seem fair. Yeah--where's the equality? There's no such thing as equality in poverty! Actually-- HAH. THEY CALL IT “GOD'S COUNTRY” I'm not taking responsibility for this. I didn't do this. “IN GOD WE TRUST” NO, that just means; the trust is empty. It's empty. This...this used to be a reservoir. It still is...a reservoir. Of water. Oh. It's a “Christian Nation?” Christian? What's a Christian? It's-- NO. Jesus, listen. NO. YOU LISTEN: FUCK. THAT. FUCKTHAT. Oh, he was mad. He was pretty mad. He still is, mad. He is, pretty mad. Dad, what happened? It doesn't matter, it just had to happen. Why did it ‘have' to happen? If you have even to ask; I don't have an answer. Ogh, dude. I know. It's almost time to go back to work. I know. Oh, my God. I know. How long have we been in this Void--it's so random. [The whole #SQUAD is on Watch.] Hm. What is this? [A look] Can I have some? [Another look.] I like it. I want it. [The Look.] I'mma try it out. OK. __ Ask Him! He knows! How to get to Skrillex? (still censored) Yes--you know. He knows. You know, right? I don't know. What? I--? IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. (It didn't happen.) Fuck. NO dude, I found it--I just don't remember how… Do you remember when? Ah, I remember my first Skrillex. I don't. Oh My God dude. Flip Flops? Yes, my feet are killing me. [Skrillex ]is in 10 minutes. Actually, 9. The Hotel is 7 minutes away.; The car is parked in Valet; If we leave now, we can make it back by the time it starts, I swear. You SWEAR? __ Ooh...Beyonce...I like her. We all like her. Give her something nice. Nice. Very nice. Very nice. What do you want her to dress as? Oh her? ...she can come as herself. [the next part] Yo FUCK the Met Gala; I'm going to THIS shit. What? You were invited? I want to be invited! How did you get an invite? ((Oh, you can't write that)) Damn right I won't. Lol, she had her dress as Beyonce. That's cold. She stole Umbrella! She stole it first! It wasn't even written for her--! It wasn't written for anybo-- Actually, it was written for ME. Oh yeah, huh. Why does this song have 32 writers on it? What the fuuuuckkk... What. We have [Skrillex.} Skrillex. How did you get a [Skrillex?] Just--[Skrillex.] “Just [Skrillex”?] The Original. Oh, shit. The Original [Skrillex.] Like, the first one? First one ever. Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] I didn't take it. STFU “didn't take it”--Where the fuck is my [Skrillex?] Oh what--[Skrillex?] We have [Skrillex!] You do? Of course we do! It's paradise. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. If that man sits at a piano, I will pass out... Oh wow, he plays piano...hmm. I will faint. How did he DO this? This Volcano emits *this* frequency. Ah, try this-- Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites. Oh. I know this one. Do you? Yeah! Bruh. I'm about to take a lot of drugs right now; I'm just calling to tell you that I love you. What happened? Nothing happened. I'm just like this now. What's that? Nothing! What is it? Nothing! It's [Skrillex], isn't it. I don't get how he DID this. Someone give this man an honorary doctorate. Think about it like this; if all this is happening to you, and you have-- --No Grammys-- --and he's got-- --Eight Grammys. Eight Grammys, really? Damn, what the fuck. I know, right? Right. So. If he has eight Grammys--and you have none-- --zero Grammys-- --and you're experiencing this right now-- Damn, what the fuck happened to him? [Over the phone] ...She shat in my Grammys. What! All Eight of Them? YES. I didn't shit in his Grammys. You didn't? NO! Well, that's good, because-- I hired other people to shit in his Grammys. What? Best $80 I ever spent. Why are we terrorizing [Skrillex?] He started it. He did start it. See, this is why I like him--he doesn't ask questions. What? You hired 8 different people to shit in his Grammys. Yeah! Dude, that is disgusting! Dude. You hired three different photographers to take professional photoshoots of my dick. Look; These were all done on location; we went to Catalina...it was kind of cold though-- WHAT THE FUCK. Dude, this is like 9 lawsuits. Well, actually, one of them is a Class Action, so that's actually like a dozen actual complaints rolled into one; I don't know why they do that. {SupaCree has arranged literally “many seats” for both Skrillex, and Dillon Francis.] {Sweet Brown's Monologue: Well, Sweetie, I'll tell you what; That's a tough way to go. I'll give you one more go at it; and She Stole All of our Music! All of it? NO! Just the HITS! (awws) ‘ATROCIOUS C' ? What the fuck is THIS? Hmmm Atrocious C and the-- Wait--what was it called again? Oh shit. Black Jack Black. That was it. Right? Yeah, that was the original joke, I think. You think? Yeah, I think--But then I remembered Atrocious C Wait, Atrocious C was a real thing? YEAH dude, it was my cover band in college. COVER BAND IN COLLEGE? YEP. Black Jack Black Black Jack. Oh no. Yep, he was there. Remember that $10,000 I gave you yesterday, and you said you didn't want it? Yeah… I need it back. No. What? You said you didn't want it! Yeah, then you made me take it anyway, so I spent it! Well, what'd you spend it on?! Dude, where are we going? If I knew, then it wouldn't be an adventure! Please, no [Skrillex.] PUMP THE SHIT. Dude, is that [Skrillex?] Go the other way. What? Why? TURN AROUND . Seriously, what was that? TURN AROUND. “Turn arouuund” She wrote the whole...movie. What the fuck is a “movie”? I should record this. “record” ? OK, FIRST OF ALL. [Skrillex] has Magic Powers. SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHSHUTTHEFUCKUPPPPPP. Wow, 14 Pages. What...language is this... -It's In English -It's in [Skrillex.] YOU KNOW I CAN'T READ-- Ugh, yeah, I can translate this. It's alphanumeric.. You algebraic motherfucker. Damn. Is he still over there? Yeah. Goddamn. …. Goddamn. Hey. Uh. Come in. ...it's nice in here. It is. ...did you take out a wall? Window. Oh. Okay. Yeah. Where's Dillon? Oh, he's... chillin. {Dillon Francis is sleeping like a-- No dead baby jokes. I wasn't going to make a- [He's laid out, alright.] How long has he been sleeping like this? ...I don't know...awhile. How long's “awhile”? We've been trying to call him. I know. I have his phone… That explains the inspirational breakfast messages. What? I stopped getting mine! I found your preceding messages to be in bad taste. CUT TO: Everyone is laid out. She is going through their phones. Woah. This is a lot of tits. So many tits. Tits. Tits. Tits. Oh hey--look at these. Oh, I don't like that. What is that? CUT BACk: Oh, you saw that…? I saw that. And I deleted that. And I blocked your number. (shamefully) Oh. On everyone's devices. What the fuck. Permanently. Oh. Yeah...You should go, now. [Does] Dude, she has me carrier locked with every provider in the united states; I had to get a burner just to try to get through to all of my contacts everytime I try to make call it somehow gets intercepted. Hahah. he had to get a burner. Haaaah. wow , you really did it this time. Now I can listen to their calls. What? That's impossible-- NO IT ISN'T dude. I don't know how she's doing this--it's like every time I--HELLO? --What? Hello? Hello? Hm. Haaah, I disconnected them. Dude, what are you doing to these DJs? FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJs. FUCK THESE DJ'S. And that guy over there. Hey, who is that guy anyway? I don't know...he kind of looks familiar… Yeah, he does...I...I think I might have seen him perform once… Preform? Perform what? Music? … YEAH, HE DOES MUSIC! I REMEMBER. THIS GUY'S A DJ. ...I'm...not a DJ. HE'S A DJ. LETS GET HIM. What does he do? Who, that guy? [Skrillex.] I don't know. What's up, I'm “Not A DJ”--- YOu should probably be careful with it... Careful with it. Be careful with it, it's limited [Skrillex.] Limited [Skrillex.] Mmhmm. Lets get it. We probably shouldn't. Mm. I feel like we should Dude, it's limited. ___ Cosmo and Wanda are on their way to The Event Cosmo. What? You should probably stop drinking. Why? You're flying sideways. Alright. Try water. WATAAAAR!! __ Dude, how long have we been dead for? Dead for? Yeah, man. I don't know. Yeah, me neither. She didn't make it. Didn't make it? What do you mean, is she okay? No, I mean--she's dead… WHAT? That's not ok. I don't get it, what is she doing? This is just how she does it, shut up. Yeah, but what is she doing? [Skrillex!] He's here? He's here! I gotta go! Get gone! [Skrillex?!] Yuh! Fuhck! If he's here, then i'm already late. Late for what? Pretty much anything, you name it. His...Name...Is… DON'T SAY ITl DON'T SAY IT! DON'T SAY IT! He's been sleeping for...several days. [Still Staring At The Sky} Who DID this!? Explain it to me! Explain it to you? I can't explain to you! Are you seeing this? I'm in it! Everything's in it! __ Bruh. I know, dude. A little man climbed out of my sub this morning, and I'm just saying---I don't know if I can take it. I don't know how I'd take that, either. I can't take it. There's just one thing you should know: What? When the bass drops, so do we. DROP. What did you do with Dillon Francis? SUPACREE I don't know. I can't remember. MORGAN You “don't remember.” DILLON'S ASSISTANT What did you do with that bitch?! DILLON FRANCIS I don't know! I don't remember! DILLON'S ASSISTANT You “don't remember?” [Noone remembers.] Deadmau5: I remember. Deadmau5 Remembers Everything. This is why he is “like that.” WHY AM I LIKE THIS. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS. I DON'T KNOW. I DON'T REMEMBER. So wait--Deadmau5 knows the entire story? well , yeah. Wait, which story? All of them. What the fuck! ___ SUPACREE Happy Birthday! (he is canadian, so he is morbidly polite) JOEL/DEADMAU5 Thanks. SUPACREE You're welcome. JOEL/DEADMAU5 K. SUPACREE So. BOTH YAH! [they both draw their rave weapons] JOEL/DEADMAU5 WHO IN THE FUCK ARE YOU?! SUPACREE I AM IN “THE FUCK” YOU'RE “THE FUCK”, YOU DICK. Here's your gift. [She tosses it.] JOEL/DEADMAU5 (he opens the box, unseen from the view of the audience) Oh, Gosh--this is... actually exactly what I wanted. SUPACREE I know dude. JOEL/DEADMAU5 UH-WHO ARE YOU? SUPACREE I'm YO(U) . [They do not battle. He just accepts it.] ___ Have you seen this rock? It's...not a rock, it's… Well, have you seen it? Yeah I've seen it. It's pretty sick. Yeah… (Delirious) Oh My God--A Tiny Man...with a tiny scythe…. I am not a man. PRINCE: I'M NOT A WOMAN. ---he changed his name to a symbol. PRINCE: I'M NOT A MAN. “is [_____________]” a boy or girl PRINCE: I AM SOMETHING YOU WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND. DILLON FRANCIS Oh, Jesus Christ. JESUS CHRIST What dude. What the fuck do you want? What? DILLON FRANCIS Wait, you're...Jesus----Jesus-Jesus??? JESUS CHRIST If you insist on still calling me that, I told you ages ago... DILLON FRANCIS (to himself) ...that makes so much sense…Jesus… JESUS CHRIST Hm? … Hey wait--are you still--sleeping--kind of? … *wakes instantly* Sleeping? Who's sleeping? I'm not sleeping! Chel. HUH. [they squint at each other suspiciously] GERALD WHO'S THE PINATA NOW, BITCH?! SUPACREE Oh, my God, Gerald! Get a hold of yourself!!! DILLON FRANCIS WHAT HAVE I DONE!? GOD WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? CHAK CHEL Dillon--What have you done. SUPACREE WHAT--DID YOU--DO. DILLON FRANCIS Just...Voodoo. GOD VOOOOOODOOOOOOOOOOOOO. (She's mad.) ((Oh, she's so mad)) (((Mad, what's that?))) ___ Bruh. She bleached my asshole. What! Yeah. And then tie dyed it. Trending: Rainbow Taint. Bro. How did you even find out about that? [-creative ways you might find out, your junk has been permanently altered.] What, it's PERMANENT. Dude, how Am I supposed to explain my LITERALLY Blue Balls? >RAVE> --I”M BLUE DA BA DE, DA BU DI__ I thought it was “Da BU Di--Do-Bu-DI” THE BEATLES Obblah-di, Oh Blah-da; Life goes on, brah-- La-Da-Da-Da-Life goes on. I don't know. I might be a writer. She's a writer. She's a writer! Oh No! She's a rider. Oh, that's robust. ___ MORGAN Oh My God--It was that big? (Nods) PAGE You'd never know. SUPACREE ...I knew it... MORGAN What did you do with it? SUPACREE I just wrapped it around my leg and tucked it into my sock, most the time. MORGAN Oh, wow. SUPACREE Yeah. I had to layer, the tube socks. MORGAN That's--wow. PAGE Yeah. I mean. When you're right, you're right. MORGAN You're right. SUPACREE I just get confused about it when I see him in shorts now. [SKRILLEX in shorts.] (She cocks her head to the side and squints, staring very suspiciously) (Later) We find that -- Woah. What. This is ridiculous. It is. [Skrillex] is Ridiculous. It is. So wait. This dudes dick. Oh my God. Is so long-- –right He just opens up a portal to another dimension, so he has some place to put it while he's doing business-- __ What is this. __ --So it doesn't get in the way. Lol. Pocket Portal. Why did you DO this? Who did this? ___ SIR. SKRILLEX STOP CALLING ME THAT. SIr, it was “not enough.” What? ___ I don't get it, so he's like a psychic? [Skrillex] is a psychic. Mm. No. No, he isn't. Uh, yes he is. No, he's not. He's just from the future, so he knows what's in it. Oh. Which future? All of them. Wait, which human era? ... Oh, I've seen the movie. How could you see the movie, it doesn't exist yet? Oh. It exists. What? It does? Yes. And It is fucked up. Like, in a good way? just FUCKED UP. Bruh. I went to go see [Skrillex] last night. Oh shit. How was it? IT WAS FUCKED UP Like, in a good way? JUST-- I JUST-- I JUST, ADJUST. There. There it is. Adjust. I don't see anything. Veer Weest. There! There! Right! There! *gasps* Wait, I think I see it. I see something. Wait. Is that. Adjust. *gasp* it's moving. It is moving, It appears to be moving. ___ I can't just leave it, they'll find it--I have to keep moving it. You can't keep moving it--the planet can't handle it. There are still humans on it! I know there are still humans on it, that's where I left them; but I can't just put it back, and I can't just leave it out here for the Inter--Galactic-- Interdimensional-- Whatever! I'm not just gonna leave it here for some aliens to turn into a trash planet.It's not a trash planet. (It's, basically a trash planet) It's a trash planet. Okay, well--it's my trash planet! And. I already annihilated--or, am in the current process of--annihilating all the evil soulless demon people-things. All the Bad Things. It has a lot of badness. Yes, but recently less badness. Kind of. And also less water. Everyone's thirsty now. But...I mean, we always were, kind of. Especially in LA. What is your process? This is it. Look. Look,This planet-- Trash Planet-- Trash--Look. Its full of primitive species-- OKay-- And also, other things that shouldn't be there. Alright. And it's almost dead. Or dying. Or...dead already. It's dead. It's a dead trash-planet. But I can't let anything [else] happen to it. CHINESE WOMAN --AND DEN-- You caused an entire apocalypse. Well, they called me fat, so. Well great; What are you going to do with your dead post apocalyptic trash planet? You can't keep expanding everlasting galaxies just so you can stuff this piece of crap planet into voids. Aha-Ha. IT'S FUCKIN--AHA-- W-Wait. Where did it go? Where did he go? Where did she go? How did I get here? How DID she get there? I've been looking for you everywhere! That sucks… Where were you? Nowhere. Like, the only place I didn't check! It was the first place I checked. You checked? Yes. He wasn't there. He's not in there. He's not on the lineup. [pause] I know how to get her here. ___ DUDE ___Dude, I don't know how you did this! How did you DO this? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE Look, it's a long story. DUDE Well make it a short one. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE *sighs* Look. I was jumping up and down, during my set, like usual--okay. OKay. SKRILLEX/SUPACREE So I….dropped the bass, and then… CHINESE WOMAN AND DEN? DUDE —And then? SKRILLEX/SUPACREE And then…(looks off, into the distance, for a moment) I went up, the bass went down; My dick went sideways, and forward-- DUDE --sideways and forward, at the same time-- SKRILLEX/SUPACREE >>>Yes. It was a lot. ___ Yo. What's his power. I don't know. I know you know. Everybody knows you know. What's his power. Ask him. Dude, I know you know it; Just tell me. “Macbook Bro” It's Apples Take on Music Production. Yo dude, these are flying off the shelves. ___ Dude. I jus' joined the mile high club. No way. Yes way. With who? Myself. Nice. It was great. __ So you're telling me-- I'm telling you--what I was told-- That they put him on a helicopter in the middle of the desert-- ---Black Rock City-- Whatever--Burning man--middle of the desert-- _-Yeah-- --Right. And then flew him to-- --”an undisclosed location”-- --okay-- ___ To her surprise, some big-time hollywood producers have taken an interest in her script,; Because she has no formal work experience in the industry, she is being “coached” by seasoned industry professionals as the Film Goes into Pre-Production Okay, I actually just had a few questions about the script… Go ahead, I was wondering about this scene with [Skrillex.] [...Skrillex?] What [Skrillex?] It's...pages… No. It isn't. There's no [Skrillex.] He is introduced as a character in Act... No, [Skrillex ]isn't in this. He...is...I'm...looking right at it. What page? Pages 45, thru… [C.C. (a.k.a. ‘Stone' omits page 45 from all of her written works.] “45” Yeah. There's no...come here. What. Come over here. Let me s

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This episode is also available as a blog post: https://feedssoundcloudcomuserssoundcloudusers.wordpress.com/2020/05/23/first-time-reacting-to-stray-kids-miroh-mixtape-ontrack-hellevator-top-japanese-levanter-slump-spreadmywings/ --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/you-betterknow4/message

Hosts: Jim, Jon & GregoryGuest: Eden Royce In this episode we create a vision of a hell in which daemons try to live better lives, but are plagued by crime and corruption. And of course the occasional kidnapping by humans from another world.00:00 Tomfoolery00:12 Megalopolis00:21 Mr. Snuffleupagus00:37 Barghest / Darth Vader / Black Dog / Geist00:52 The Hound of the Baskervilles / Baskerville01:06 Intro02:47 Listener Feedback03:10 Happy Jack's RPG Podcast03:37 Creative Commons04:12 Determining Basics04:38 Atlas / Atlas Shrugged05:04 Demon / Devil / Hell06:11 Hellevator08:27 Fedora08:57 Film Noir / Hardboiled Fiction09:14 Faustian Bargain09:37 "This is my boomstick!"10:53 Drug Fiend11:58 Drug Mule12:09 Mephistopheles13:37 Art Deco / Succubus / Femme Fatale14:03 Determining Physical Properties14:13 Dark City14:59 Superman / Kryptonians15:55 Discussing Social Aspects16:16 No One Can Eat Just One17:07 Discussing Supernatural Rules18:47 Discussing Inhabitants & Society20:43 Discussing Powers22:29 Prohibition / Speakeasy / Eliot Ness23:34 Devil in a Blue Dress24:24 Imp / Incubus25:10 Discussing Wild Life25:38 Terrarium25:56 Arthropod / Arachnid / Crustacean26:35 Discussing Environment27:24 Futurama / New New York27:51 Zeppelin / Steampunk29:15 Industrial Revolution29:43 Sulfur Dioxide / Acid Rain32:14 Discussing History32:50 Elder Things33:23 Yog-Sothoth / Elder Gods / Great Old Ones37:12 Egalitarianism38:58 Discussing Religion39:33 Lovecraftian / Hastur40:13 Humanism / The King in Yellow40:30 Gothic Architecture41:41 Gaslighting42:14 Drinking the Kool Aid / Heaven's Gate42:20 Discussing Crime43:09 Discussing Souls44:31 Scarab45:05 Discussing Government & Organizations45:43 Fidel Castro47:01 Byakhee48:03 Arkham / Mikatonic University49:03 Wall Street49:17 Coney Island / Renaissance Faire50:20 Naming Beings, Titles & Organizations50:33 Daemon52:20 Body Politic / Constabulary / Constable53:27 Clot54:02 Humours / Bile55:25 Naming Places55:59 Furlong56:25 Naming Deities57:28 Naming More Groups & Movements58:17 Walker, Texas Ranger59:37 Naming More Places61:08 Naming the City62:04 Naming the Setting63:23 www.EdenRoyce.com63:39 LudusNovus.net63:45 Conclusion & OutroDOWNLOAD EPISODE 11 - Hell Noir