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CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then. L E G E N D S CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now Blū Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel disappeared— or sort of disappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up! Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on: this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. {Enter The Multiverse} ICONS KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! …you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME? *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Look at the pale ass people who can afford this place— I'm probably not even allowed there With much dishonor and bad distaste- You'd better stop coming around there If I spend my time out buying your price Mercy to the highest bidder You can call me anything you'd like But just don't call me a quitter If it's talk you want, I've got all the words For a stake, I'll buy you dinner In my house of hands, I've got all nine cards Hey Mary, your husband's a sinner I play all nine holes I lived all nine lives I spend all night In the The Panorama Room Smoke a parliament, parliament I just haven't the heart (The heart) To tell her You were part of it (Part of it) But I just sat down To write my love a letter When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you know you can't Forget her When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you also know That you just can't Forgive her And I just sat down And I just sat down And I just sat down To write my love a letter I write all my best lines In The Panorama Room And I'm back on prime time tonight But it's just lights out If I get back now I just might be up by noon But if I pass out In the town car I went that far As to turn back out For an hour, or a barback Oh wow, I — Look at the time Have a long night out I just lost my life At The Panorama Room It wasn't exactly the phantom But it just might have been Patrick And just like that, I need a back rub And a ballroom gown And an hour of heart talk But I just don't want all that, God I just gotta keep talking Outback from one But what's after all out? I'm no longer lost, I just wanna know How far till the next exit? When's wind a kite to fall back on? How many faxes till it makes sense? Cause it ain't been ten days yet, But I faked maybe seven or eight It is dangerous! A high stakes game, nothing makes sense Till just the end, then it hates to— Just rolls over, the next day raises And all you know is a tunnel And the smoke rising up from the long tail And really no hope goes there at all, But the words to a song And then they cut the lights off It is over; You don't know her, You can't love her— You can't move here, And there's no home sprung out of Hollywood; It was all a hoax, It was all just marxists, And now you really all are on your last dollar to spend, because in the end, truth is currency and we inTelevision really ain't in the business of truth in media; The honesty is honestly just as lost as you and I all are and yet— as proposed, We really are not as one, but so separate that it's possible, your stardust, and my horcruxes Are not that foreign to one another in terms of matter, but fall on us as gospels of one world to a whole other. You know that? It really has been a long drunk drive up the 101 in this classic car with the bucket seats and honest, I'm dying in the intertwined and reading these radio waves just as any old controller, but who knows really when it goes into the ocean, Seemingly out of control, But just turns back to shore, Such as a surfboard. — Seth Rogen. No, no dust— keep moving— It's just sandy beaches and trouble warring No, not now, keep off us— If trouble waves and shadows park this car, A storm is coming. And we were off to shore in the blue classic car, U-turned into her shore like a surfboard on the water. Don't ever do that again. I won't bother. You said “off road.” I didn't know that meant ocean. No, it doesn't go in the ocean. I spoke too soon. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you want me to die, Or bury your love like a secret ther I betray you, And portray you here in such a way as are kings and god, but of ruthless man, you are no honor or, or— worthy of such prize, as I, you ponder? Death seeks you and slowly surely is approaching and is as upon us the dog that barks and the wind that calls and the kiss that waits not as dusk but morning light, and do our calls upon us. And wait you then, these things I have here in my gate, and the knowing of the tide that does not moon, put sorrow? Like a lake it is thus ruined and by my time passed and even ye you, there hath it been not told, as told before the earth will shake with envy, and with pity, and with bore her such pride as slain thy son?! No! You do not any but gasp in these, my words as so you wore but tattered clothes as truths to these, no in mine wealth of heart and rich of soul, yet these bearing little truths have sown our end I wait Here slithers here the snake for singing crickets followed thy sound and thy voice to betray you; And thee I harp as though not to wait my tongue, my pride has pondered on this moment. O, I know and shall to thee my praying the honor of know not I that seek in weighing many days upon us; And though ye as many embark in flight and make my way and wonder where is but here the road to such a comet. Oh shit, he's asking about the other planet. Thank you. Yeah I— There's absolutely no chance in making it. It, by all standard and concept in the construct of time, is not possible. Your kind will be washed and diminished, and our time has come to again rule over our, to she whom you call “Earth”, not as our home, but as our daughter. You have known wise to honor her, our coming. Like omg what the fuck does this have to do with Jimmy Fallon. right. L E G E N D S: ICONS I guess it came through. Yeah, you're right. Yeah. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EMMY. Uhh… Thanks? I uh— we didn't win yet. Not with that attitude. Huh. Look at that. I guess you're right! [beat] —but wait, who are you up against? [The Festival Project ™] This is intense. Yeah, I'll say it is… We gotta get to the other side of that portal. I don't think we should be making any— — we should go through the portal—! —plans very seriously— and honestly I'm thinking— Or maybe— you stay here, and I'll go through the portal, and you tell me if you can hear anything once I make it to the other side! I don't know if that…works. What? Why not dude? It'll be great— Cause I don't know anything about portals, and honestly— —I'm thinking— I just want to make it past the Emmy's so I can get laid again—like really laid— I've been… paying… for it. —you want to skip going through a portal so you can get laid? By a decent— and by decent I mean free— lady who just happens to be single and in attendance of the Emmy's or any of the after parties— yes, actually! Yes! No! We have to go through this portal to see what's actually on the other side! I don't have to do anything! No, you don't have to do anything— because I'm going through the portal, and you're just—staying and making sure you tell me if you can hear me! I don't think it's that easy actually! But you don't know until you try. I'm not trying. You're trying. And I'm letting you because you're pressuring me! Shut up. You're starting to sound like one of my interns. If I was one of your interns I would be quitting, and hash tagging you already. If you were one of my interns you wouldn't be paying for company. What's that supposed to mean? Just—- {Enter the multiverse} Stop. What if all whores are just bored workers And all escorts personal massagers— What if all message boards are mating calls And all honor rolls are leader boards, And all board rooms are horse drawn carriages For faraway battlefields, What if nothing I offer even comes close To the dollar value of your most cherished call girl And what if anything I know about her Doesn't conform to my idea of a comfort zone? What if the anxiety you're eyeing me and getting high behind me with is just designed to bind my mind enlightening the lightning strike dividing my entirety? What if I want to know you know my known worth without words or surfaces? What if all I don't know is all of my whole world, And just the dollop of a thought could push you off the wall to fall from the top of the Rockerfeller plaza into art upon the crosswalk? What if I could touch that cross, and walk with the palm of the sword stretched out like a… What were you saying? I don't know something about the handle of a sword turning into another object? What if I could hypothesis not one, but all the conundrums in one stroke of nonsense? Stop already? For what. I was told I could have been bought and sold Had I dressed the part To drive off in the pretty corvette But how dare I not Look just as hard earned As her for dollar signs Although Somebody bought her all of that? What if all you are is just bullets in the gun And a wound for my brain And a heart to heal Without home or a umbrella As the rain comes down so hard It sends whole homes floating? What if all the remarks in my smart ass couldn't call you up in the form of laughter? How about that one? How does your back ache? How was your hour glass. Much much Longer And Harder Than An hour. How I broke my spell? I just shook her hands. I just put my tail In between my legs And departure Marks the time of Our new travel archive But With just the dust of lust From dusk till dawn The one you wanted Climbs upon the forest In another song Or story What you— One, Two, Three dice— The riddle Four, five, Six mice, the honor Six, seven— Someone's disrespected; Lessons! Eight, nine— Oh my, Someone's right behind us. Nor can I stop writing or whining about my desires, and deadlines coming up and signing off, but I'm still crying. So I never sold my sole, And yet, The light from it was stolen; Slamming doors and hard earned apartments, Multipliers and real bad liars And one liners And one sells signed autographed autobiographies Now how about that for a rabbit hole, Seth Meyers? You should work harder on your crossovers Then again, the rule of thumb is to just Put them all on the old drum code And it's just no fun If it's not on suicide watch Don't bother I don't brother, But I learned to love her. You know? Silly little game, this inconsiderate confusion, wind washed galleyways and fisherman to put you under, Degrading you very awaking for the patrons, faking it— No things haven't made sense since you ate it With which way Is the birthday cake? Mistakes the Ace as Satan Lately, anything don't matter but that's a laugh Still no dollar though, no Don't call her out— she just wants courage And witness to slaughter Hers the very lamb of truth And mother's daughter. Put your art to work, This is not a war, it's a fairway And it and your worth, It's a fair game It ain't make sense Till you get 8-6 out a bar that you own Under A. An Alias, B. Under the Name of an Accomplice or otherwise trustworthy partner to which not you call love, but perhaps a co-owner. (Or co-author.) Remember the time now? A shit. I gotta run. Where to? I don't know yet. Grey suit. The whispers of a game Blue tie White stripes Red lips, One aim and he doesn't think twice One name and he doesn't give once Two trips to the hallway, One gun in the holster, One bullet in the chamber, And one number you thought of. Four? …yes. I've got a secret, a dirty little secret. The Rock and The Kite XI {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū.

CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now blu Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel dissappeared— or sort of dissappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up. Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} HOW THE FUCK DID WAYNE BRADY GET IN HERE! I dont know how Wayne Brady got in here! Keep an eye on him. I heard he's polyscientific in his sexual proclivities. Oh. Okay then. L E G E N D S CARL COX curses BLŨ out in an extreme show of brilliantly vile COCKNEY FASHION. CARL COX [unintelligible cockney] BLŪ I have no idea what you just said, or why you're yelling at me! CARL COX (Sarcastically) Well how's this—? “Ello, poppet!” In THE DJ storyline )which is technically storyline a, we've just discovered DJ DILLON FRANCIS used BLU — (originally CC) as a sort of horcrux for his darkest magical intentions. Now the DJS are in a rush to extract this device before time runs out. Wtf did Dillon Francis do? YO HE LITERALLY MADE HER INTO A POPPIT. What the fuck is a poppit. It's like a little fuckin— thing— witches use to store magical energy and when the spell is over you're supposed to destroy them— but he DIDNT and it came to life and it merged with CC! Yooooooo! Who is now Blū Tha Gürū, because Chak Chel disappeared— or sort of disappeared— to aide in the magical assasination of Let me guess— No don't guess, you could ruin it. What. Don't literally ruin it. The show exists in a multiversial construct which means anything you say, or think, or guess could unintentionally alter the plot, and skew it into an array of infinitely possible dimensions! Oh no! But I already thought! Shh! No you didn't! Just replace those thoughts— with better ones z— I don't have any better thoughts! Well, make some up! Uh— ok! Shh, it's coming back on: this is where it gets intense. I thought you've never seen this before I know! But I know it gets intense! Well, how do you know that?! BECAUSE I KNOW THAT ALREADY. {Enter The Multiverse} ENTER THE MULTIVERSE is getting intense. BLŪ WHAT. NO ITS NOT! I can't take it I just can't take it I just can't take it no more I just can't n THE SKY IS FALLING! WHY?' I don't know. Seems pretty intense though, doesn't it. FUCK YOUUUUUU DEADMAU55555555! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!! I am DEADMAU— *powers down* Ah, fuck. {Enter The Multiverse} ICONS KATT WILLIAMS is coaching the NBC GAMES. KATT WILLIAMS Alright, b-ball time! Shirts! Versus skins! …you can be skins, Jimmy Fallon. *winks* Ew. She's so fucking gross. I don't get it. Uh— what? No I can't. I'm wearing a suit. I'm sure it's fused to my skin, or something. (This is actually the VICE AGENT version of the dude, who is wired head to toe. If he takes his shirt off, it will blow his cover.) SKINS. Fuck. L E G E N D S HE DUPED YOU! I BELIEVE THAT! He's good at everything! Especially things like that! WE'LL KILL HIM! NO ONE CAN KILL HIM. HE IS IMMORTAL. –doesn't mean we can't try. *dramatic music* [beat] WHAT?! I SAID– I CAN'T HEAR YOU, THERE'S A HELLICOPTER LEVITATING DIRECTLY OVER US! I KNOW! THAT'S WHY I WAS YELLING TOO, IT'S JUST– [Suddenly they realize, it is the he of who they speak hovering in the helicopter.] *GASP* DOn'T. {it's too late. He unloads a clip from an automatic rifle] THOSE ARE BANNED IN EUROPE. YOU COULD HAVE FOOLED ME! I KNOW I COULD HAVE! BECAUSE YOU ARE QUITE OBVIOUSLY EASILY FOOLED! ENOUGH. The helicopter scoops down and unrolls a ladder. W–wait! ARE YOU GETTING IN THE HELLICOPTER WITH HIM?! (dramatically) It appears so. WHAT. YES! YES I AM GETTING INTO THE HELLICOPTER. ARE YOU GONNA SHOOT AT ME? *confused* *shurgs* (he gives up) ..of course not. Well then, I believe it is YOU that has been duped. WHAT!??!? GOOD DAY, SIR. Lil Bitz They really nominated Stephen Colbert for an Emmy, and then fired him the next day. What on Earth. What did you do at the party, bro? Be honest! They literally we're like, Wednesday: You're nominated for an Emmy award! Thursday: You're cancelled! Cancelled, bro. How do you cancel the late show? That was David Letterman. The whole point of a show like that is so it goes on forever! Nope, cancelled! Daaaamn. You better win that Emmy now, bruh. {Enter The Multiverse} Look at the pale ass people who can afford this place— I'm probably not even allowed there With much dishonor and bad distaste- You'd better stop coming around there If I spend my time out buying your price Mercy to the highest bidder You can call me anything you'd like But just don't call me a quitter If it's talk you want, I've got all the words For a stake, I'll buy you dinner In my house of hands, I've got all nine cards Hey Mary, your husband's a sinner I play all nine holes I lived all nine lives I spend all night In the The Panorama Room Smoke a parliament, parliament I just haven't the heart (The heart) To tell her You were part of it (Part of it) But I just sat down To write my love a letter When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you know you can't Forget her When you know it's over (You know it's over) But you also know That you just can't Forgive her And I just sat down And I just sat down And I just sat down To write my love a letter I write all my best lines In The Panorama Room And I'm back on prime time tonight But it's just lights out If I get back now I just might be up by noon But if I pass out In the town car I went that far As to turn back out For an hour, or a barback Oh wow, I — Look at the time Have a long night out I just lost my life At The Panorama Room It wasn't exactly the phantom But it just might have been Patrick And just like that, I need a back rub And a ballroom gown And an hour of heart talk But I just don't want all that, God I just gotta keep talking Outback from one But what's after all out? I'm no longer lost, I just wanna know How far till the next exit? When's wind a kite to fall back on? How many faxes till it makes sense? Cause it ain't been ten days yet, But I faked maybe seven or eight It is dangerous! A high stakes game, nothing makes sense Till just the end, then it hates to— Just rolls over, the next day raises And all you know is a tunnel And the smoke rising up from the long tail And really no hope goes there at all, But the words to a song And then they cut the lights off It is over; You don't know her, You can't love her— You can't move here, And there's no home sprung out of Hollywood; It was all a hoax, It was all just marxists, And now you really all are on your last dollar to spend, because in the end, truth is currency and we inTelevision really ain't in the business of truth in media; The honesty is honestly just as lost as you and I all are and yet— as proposed, We really are not as one, but so separate that it's possible, your stardust, and my horcruxes Are not that foreign to one another in terms of matter, but fall on us as gospels of one world to a whole other. You know that? It really has been a long drunk drive up the 101 in this classic car with the bucket seats and honest, I'm dying in the intertwined and reading these radio waves just as any old controller, but who knows really when it goes into the ocean, Seemingly out of control, But just turns back to shore, Such as a surfboard. — Seth Rogen. No, no dust— keep moving— It's just sandy beaches and trouble warring No, not now, keep off us— If trouble waves and shadows park this car, A storm is coming. And we were off to shore in the blue classic car, U-turned into her shore like a surfboard on the water. Don't ever do that again. I won't bother. You said “off road.” I didn't know that meant ocean. No, it doesn't go in the ocean. I spoke too soon. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you want me to die, Or bury your love like a secret ther I betray you, And portray you here in such a way as are kings and god, but of ruthless man, you are no honor or, or— worthy of such prize, as I, you ponder? Death seeks you and slowly surely is approaching and is as upon us the dog that barks and the wind that calls and the kiss that waits not as dusk but morning light, and do our calls upon us. And wait you then, these things I have here in my gate, and the knowing of the tide that does not moon, put sorrow? Like a lake it is thus ruined and by my time passed and even ye you, there hath it been not told, as told before the earth will shake with envy, and with pity, and with bore her such pride as slain thy son?! No! You do not any but gasp in these, my words as so you wore but tattered clothes as truths to these, no in mine wealth of heart and rich of soul, yet these bearing little truths have sown our end I wait Here slithers here the snake for singing crickets followed thy sound and thy voice to betray you; And thee I harp as though not to wait my tongue, my pride has pondered on this moment. O, I know and shall to thee my praying the honor of know not I that seek in weighing many days upon us; And though ye as many embark in flight and make my way and wonder where is but here the road to such a comet. Oh shit, he's asking about the other planet. Thank you. Yeah I— There's absolutely no chance in making it. It, by all standard and concept in the construct of time, is not possible. Your kind will be washed and diminished, and our time has come to again rule over our, to she whom you call “Earth”, not as our home, but as our daughter. You have known wise to honor her, our coming. Like omg what the fuck does this have to do with Jimmy Fallon. right. L E G E N D S: ICONS I guess it came through. Yeah, you're right. Yeah. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EMMY. Uhh… Thanks? I uh— we didn't win yet. Not with that attitude. Huh. Look at that. I guess you're right! [beat] —but wait, who are you up against? [The Festival Project ™] This is intense. Yeah, I'll say it is… We gotta get to the other side of that portal. I don't think we should be making any— — we should go through the portal—! —plans very seriously— and honestly I'm thinking— Or maybe— you stay here, and I'll go through the portal, and you tell me if you can hear anything once I make it to the other side! I don't know if that…works. What? Why not dude? It'll be great— Cause I don't know anything about portals, and honestly— —I'm thinking— I just want to make it past the Emmy's so I can get laid again—like really laid— I've been… paying… for it. —you want to skip going through a portal so you can get laid? By a decent— and by decent I mean free— lady who just happens to be single and in attendance of the Emmy's or any of the after parties— yes, actually! Yes! No! We have to go through this portal to see what's actually on the other side! I don't have to do anything! No, you don't have to do anything— because I'm going through the portal, and you're just—staying and making sure you tell me if you can hear me! I don't think it's that easy actually! But you don't know until you try. I'm not trying. You're trying. And I'm letting you because you're pressuring me! Shut up. You're starting to sound like one of my interns. If I was one of your interns I would be quitting, and hash tagging you already. If you were one of my interns you wouldn't be paying for company. What's that supposed to mean? Just—- {Enter the multiverse} Stop. What if all whores are just bored workers And all escorts personal massagers— What if all message boards are mating calls And all honor rolls are leader boards, And all board rooms are horse drawn carriages For faraway battlefields, What if nothing I offer even comes close To the dollar value of your most cherished call girl And what if anything I know about her Doesn't conform to my idea of a comfort zone? What if the anxiety you're eyeing me and getting high behind me with is just designed to bind my mind enlightening the lightning strike dividing my entirety? What if I want to know you know my known worth without words or surfaces? What if all I don't know is all of my whole world, And just the dollop of a thought could push you off the wall to fall from the top of the Rockerfeller plaza into art upon the crosswalk? What if I could touch that cross, and walk with the palm of the sword stretched out like a… What were you saying? I don't know something about the handle of a sword turning into another object? What if I could hypothesis not one, but all the conundrums in one stroke of nonsense? Stop already? For what. I was told I could have been bought and sold Had I dressed the part To drive off in the pretty corvette But how dare I not Look just as hard earned As her for dollar signs Although Somebody bought her all of that? What if all you are is just bullets in the gun And a wound for my brain And a heart to heal Without home or a umbrella As the rain comes down so hard It sends whole homes floating? What if all the remarks in my smart ass couldn't call you up in the form of laughter? How about that one? How does your back ache? How was your hour glass. Much much Longer And Harder Than An hour. How I broke my spell? I just shook her hands. I just put my tail In between my legs And departure Marks the time of Our new travel archive But With just the dust of lust From dusk till dawn The one you wanted Climbs upon the forest In another song Or story What you— One, Two, Three dice— The riddle Four, five, Six mice, the honor Six, seven— Someone's disrespected; Lessons! Eight, nine— Oh my, Someone's right behind us. Nor can I stop writing or whining about my desires, and deadlines coming up and signing off, but I'm still crying. So I never sold my sole, And yet, The light from it was stolen; Slamming doors and hard earned apartments, Multipliers and real bad liars And one liners And one sells signed autographed autobiographies Now how about that for a rabbit hole, Seth Meyers? You should work harder on your crossovers Then again, the rule of thumb is to just Put them all on the old drum code And it's just no fun If it's not on suicide watch Don't bother I don't brother, But I learned to love her. You know? Silly little game, this inconsiderate confusion, wind washed galleyways and fisherman to put you under, Degrading you very awaking for the patrons, faking it— No things haven't made sense since you ate it With which way Is the birthday cake? Mistakes the Ace as Satan Lately, anything don't matter but that's a laugh Still no dollar though, no Don't call her out— she just wants courage And witness to slaughter Hers the very lamb of truth And mother's daughter. Put your art to work, This is not a war, it's a fairway And it and your worth, It's a fair game It ain't make sense Till you get 8-6 out a bar that you own Under A. An Alias, B. Under the Name of an Accomplice or otherwise trustworthy partner to which not you call love, but perhaps a co-owner. (Or co-author.) Remember the time now? A shit. I gotta run. Where to? I don't know yet. Grey suit. The whispers of a game Blue tie White stripes Red lips, One aim and he doesn't think twice One name and he doesn't give once Two trips to the hallway, One gun in the holster, One bullet in the chamber, And one number you thought of. Four? …yes. I've got a secret, a dirty little secret. The Rock and The Kite XI {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū.

In this episode,Kiaun will be going over Emails sent in by Cody Clark,Playstation is having their State Of Play event and Kiaun will revisit a conversation about Xbox outsourcing their next generation hardware.

1:54 -Nintendo Direct 16:09 -SNES Good or Not? 25:59 -PS1 Compared/ Must play games? 41:32 -New TCG stuff 46:23 -New CEO for Intelevision 48:16 -What did we want to see in the N. Direct? 57:00 -Games need to get better soon 1:03:25 -Look What I Found 1:08:23 -OJC: OutRun Game Gear #podcast #level7games #videogames #nintendodirect #nintendo #mario #PS1 #playstation #SNES #mustplaygames #gamers #talkingheads

Are video games a complete waste of time? Probably, but we discuss all the consoles and games that have eaten up our free time over the years and how we struggle to find the time to waste today. In 'Take It From Us', a blogger wonders if he should write a new post about a rebooted podcast or if he should 'save his ink'. Intro/Outro - "No Holds Barred" by Kris Anderson - Studio 11 is licensed under a Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike License. Check out more show information and episodes at ReasonsAreDebatable.com. Email your advice questions to ReasonsAreDebatable@gmail.com. Find us on Twitter at @ReasonsAre. You can find Neil on Twitter at @AngelsFreak7.   If you'd like to support the show, please go check out our merch on TeePublic and/or buy us a cup of coffee at Ko-Fi.com/RADPod. 

Episode 196 featuring the 1983 Fox Video Games offering REVENGE OF THE BEEFSTEAK TOMATOES is clearly an allegory for the plight of the American farmer in the 1980s international trade market. Also, tomatoes are trying to kill you, so maybe the message is: Kids, eat less fruit. This week's short story: TOMATO PUREE  Flat Earth Rocketman Measuring Curve of the Unite States A ROM Has Been Released of Atari's "Pursuit of the Pink Panther" Thanks to Kevin McLeod at Incompetech.com for creative commons use of his songs "Take a Chance", "Pinball Spring" and "Reformat". Thanks to Mike Mann for the "Mad Mike Hughes" update theme. Thanks to Sean Courtney for the "Storytime" theme. www.carnivalofgleecreations.com is where you can get info, episode links and social media for this show, ATARI BYTES, and my other show IT'S A PODCAST, CHARLIE BROWN. The webiste also has info about my novel IN THE ST. NICK OF TIME, a sort of Santa Claus story for adults and MISERY BANANA: VERY SHORT STORIES INSPIRED BY OLD GAMES AND ODD THOUGHTS. Pick up "Go play some old games, they've missed you." shirts and mugs at the AB_Pod_Store on Zazzle.com. You can support the show financially by becoming a Patreon subscriber here. Get episodes early! Get bonus episodes!  

In episode 195, we're teeing up the golf ball that is the podcast to sink in a hole in one of your earholes. Or maybe both. But we don't want to overreach. That's right, we're playing MINIATURE GOLF, Atari's 1978 plaintive cry about being out of ideas already. "Weird. I thought they'd come up with more stuff. They had such potential," said the 1970s consumers. This week's short story: MINIATURE DEATH  *Producer's Note: This week's recording was overrun with audio drops. Don't know why. Tried to clean it up as best I could, but if it sounds incoherent in places, just assume it's a technical issue, not the failings of your host. Please. Thanks to Kevin McLeod at Incompetech.com for creative commons use of his songs "Reformat", "Pinball Spring" and "Take a Chance".  Thanks to Mike Mann for the "Mad Mike Hughes" update theme. Thanks to Sean Courtney for the "Storytime" theme. ATARI BYTES show notes, episodes, social media and more at www.carnivalofgleecreations.com  IT'S A PODCAST, CHARLIE BROWN is a monthly show about all things in and around the "Peanuts" universe. Find out more here. Pick up "Go play some old games, they've missed you" shirts and mugs at the AB_Pod_Store on Zazzle.com  You can become a Patreon subscriber and get access to bonus content by going to the Atari Bytes Patreon page here.  Find out here about my books IN THE ST. NICK OF TIME and MISERY BANANA: VERY SHORT STORIES INSPIRED BY OLD GAMES AND ODD THOUGHTS

A great and nostalgic conversation with Erin about retro gaming from our youth.  Specifically, we discuss how Intelevision and Coleco games made us happy and how we remember the sights and sounds vividly.  David also relives a tramatic arcade experience from when he was a wee lad.  The conversation down happy memory lane continues for the siblings in the latest installment of their chats.And, in the meantime, do what makes you happy!Follow us on Facebook to be a part of the conversation and get show updates:  http://www.facebook.com/thepeoplevshappinessDo the same on Instagram @thepeoplevshappinessReach out to us on Twitter: @TPvHpodcastEmail us your thoughts or topic ideas to be featured on the podcast: thepeoplevshappiness@gmail.com

Order up! Ever go to a burger joint expecting the familiar, tasty bacon double with crispy onion rings you love, only to find out they've changed the menu to some sort of tofurky burger or something? Then you're all worried, but discover it's pretty tasty too? Episode 123 is kind of like that. This month, our nice Atari 2600, story-based podcast has been overrun by Intelevision bandits. They even ate all my onion rings!  Now, every Sunday in June, we're featuring an Intelevision title. We kick things off with the iconic BURGERTIME from Bally Midway. Compared to the Atari port (which we covered on the podcast WAY back in episode 25!), does the Intelevision port stack up like your favorite bun full of meat, or more like trying to stack the ketchup packets at the bottom of the bag? And what, exactly, is Chef Peter Pepper up to this time? Thanks to Kevin McLeod at Incompetech.com for creative commons use of his songs "Reformat", "Take a Chance", "Pinball Spring" and "Oppressive Gloom".  Atari Bytes - show notes, episodes, social media and so much more. It's a Podcast, Charlie Brown - Love the Peanuts comics, TV shows, movies and merchandise? So do we! We cover it all on this podcast, which drops on the 15th of every month. AB_Pod_Store - That's our store on Zazzle.com where you can get "Go play some old games" mugs, shirts and more. Want to donate to the show? Thanks! Here's the Patreon.com page where you can do just that.

Dean Swain & Chris O'Regan are back with all of the latest retro gaming related news, answering your #askRA questions and discussing joysticks, control pads and all manor of input devices. A massive thanks to our Patreon supporters: Richard Pipes Piper Richard May Nick Lees Edward Fitzpatrick Chris Worthington Alistair Downs Retromash Andrew Gilmour Shep Sheppard Duncan Bell Garry Heather Andrew Marsh Tom Potter Chris Mcgilvray Patrick Fürst Stephen Stuttard Magnus Esbjörner Darren Coles Jonathan Quilter Blake Brett Lee Spencer M John Sullivan Stelios Steve Duke Retro Man Cave   Help support the Retro Asylum by becoming a patron: https://www.patreon.com/retroasylum

Episode 178 sees Paul and Chris take a trip to the Dark Side with Star Wars actor Christian Simpson. No we don’t mean the C64, but Christian is famous for standing in for Hayden Christensen as Anakin Skywalker and also Episode I’s Gavyn Sykes among many other roles across the Star Wars film and game universe. We chat with Christian about his film work and how he now doubles down on his love of micros and his growing presence in the community through his burgeoning retro maintenance videos. You can follow Christian’s work in a recording-breaking number of places: www.patreon.com/perifractic www.youtube.com/perifractic www.twitter.com/chrisimpsonline www.facebook.com/chrisimpsonline https://plus.google.com/+chrisimpsonline KYBER KYBER!! Help support the Retro Asylum by becoming a patron: https://www.patreon.com/retroasylum Retro Asylum on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/retroasylum/ Retro Asylum YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfCC9rIvCKoW3mdbuCsB7Ag Retro Asylum on Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/retroasylumofficial The Retro Asylum Forum: http://retroasylum.com/phpbb/index.php Twitter: @theretroasylum    

Steve Erickson & Matt Wilsher delve into the tricky topic of emulation and discuss what emulators they use and recommend plus a whole lot more! Again, a massive thanks and a name check as ever to our Patreon supporters: Richard Pipes Piper Nick Lees Edward Fitzpatrick Chris Worthington Alistair Downs Retromash Andre Russell Andrew Gilmour Shep Sheppard Duncan Bell Garry Heather Stephen Stuttard Mike Coolican Magnus Esbjörner Darren Coles Blake Brett Laurens de Bruijin Lee Spencer M John Sullivan Stelios Steve Duke Help support the Retro Asylum by becoming a patron: https://www.patreon.com/retroasylum Retro Asylum on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/retroasylum/ Retro Asylum YouTube Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfCC9rIvCKoW3mdbuCsB7Ag The Retro Asylum Forum: http://retroasylum.com/phpbb/index.php Twitter: @theretroasylum