Podcasts about you will die

00:00 Four-Minute Offense 7:30 Eye Boogers 11:00 "You Will Die" 20:12 Doug's Big One = USA! USA! 24:40 DBO-2 = Why Is Budda Unsigned? 35:00 Cards Dominate 1:00:00 Suns Lose! 1:09:15 ASU Football 1:18:33 ASU Hoops 1:23:41 Vs Vegas

HALLE BERRY is that how you spell it It is for now. Fuck going online “That ain't part of my day” Shut up Drake, not now. You'll thank me later “If You're Reading This, It's Too Late” [HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award-- Which one's her favorite? CUT TO: BEFORE HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.] —I like this guy. The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process. Come on! This guy! AGAIN!? UGH. CUT BACK TO: [HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ] WHAT THE—COME ON I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE. (I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode Or without cell service at all) wtf my phone is ringing. That's weird. You don't even— —I don't even have a phone. Right. (Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.) The fuck. [it's JIMMY FALLON] Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever. Like fucking ever. Always shows up at the worst —THE WORST MOMENT. [HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again] WHAT THE— [She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until— [JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.] (Calmly, kind of) Hey, WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I called first! I KNOW THAT— Went to voicemail. YOU SHOULDNT BE HERE. Just—calm down. NO. Look. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically. —yeah, but your FACE is in my house— —I hear that's the best part. —What?! Listen— Get out— No, look, listen— I need to borrow your Oscar. What?! For what?! That's not important. Oh really?! Yeah. It seems important. It's not that important Just—- What! Give it to me! [He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.] Just—trade me. What! What for?! Just—trust me— I do not— Just trust me—! WHAT! Congratulations. As you were. Kind of. WHAT—JIMMY— [She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing] —he was my favorite… [SUDDENLY, though the other window Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate? For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside. Fans are weird. CUT TO: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE YOU. CUT TO: What's this place. It's my house, Where are the windows? They don't exist. CUT BACK TO [DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.] YO. WHAT THE FUCK! Chill, Halle Berry. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I'm the guy who wrote this. You should have called first! Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?! NO. I LIKE HIS face. Huh. Is that what it is… I GUESS I DONT KNOW. —who are YOU—?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE— I am not in, technically— I DONT CARE! Ooh— Is that a Grammy award?! I didn't know you had a Grammy! Gimmie! [he snatches the Grammy] HEY! Is—what is this, for COMEDY?! FOR COMEDY?! WHY WASNT I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?! I DONT KNOW, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK. It's not important. What. Anyway, thanks. Toodeloo. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature keurig, a status symbol, of course, looked handsom on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Freebreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenetire intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that i wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more of putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with Fallon—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep inside me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viwingbspace, an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my masked. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and bryknnd: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mistress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the car would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in in struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packaged and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. https://linktr.ee/codenameblu {Now You See Me} From Google: Charismatic magician Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg) leads a team of talented illusionists called the Four Horsemen. Atlas and his comrades mesmerize audiences with a pair of amazing magic shows that drain the bank accounts of the corrupt and funnel the money to audience members. A federal agent (Mark Ruffalo) and an Interpol detective (Mélanie Laurent) intend to rein in the Horsemen before their next caper, and they turn to Thaddeus (Morgan Freeman), a famous debunker, for help. No, not the google documents! GET IN THE HOLE. Hm. What. Blood Shower All along the watch tower Do you feel good? Do you? Do you feel bad about this. I do. I feel bad about this. I forgot to tell you– I should probably let you know that I just want to MAN, FUCK THIS DUDE. MA. WAHT. IT'S ON. WHAt. THE SHOW IS ON. THEWHAT. THE– *suddenly self aware* …I gotta get out of Boston. What, first this was about war, now it's about bird people? It's about a war WITH the bird people. I should sleep. Hahaha. No. This isn't funny anymore. At least it's over. MA– Oh, it's far from over. Yo, i'm going through some crazy shit right now. Spur of the moment I'd never thought of it; This is gonna take forever. I don't have the patience To even write this I just want french fries right now But been up for two days with no gym and I'm on a diet. GUAC TIME. No, no burritos. GUAC TIME. Oh shit, this is getting real as fuck . NOw i see it three ways. I love it. I hate it. HEY, LET ME OUT. GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, SKRILLEX. I'M DILLON FRANCIS. IN THE HOLE. Check it out. Huh. It's another DJ. *agrees* Should we pick him up. WEll, the good news is: I found your friend. Oh, that's good. The bad news is: He's dead. Oh, that–'s … nice. Yeah. It is. Uh. Kaskade. Yeah. We gotta find Ryan. Why. What's up? You're freaking me out. Why. What's up. Nothing IS it my eyes? I– *wild ass eyes* Yeah, it's probably that. Fuck dude, what did you do to deadmau5. NOTHIN. He's not the same. What the fuck is that. Holy shit I jus timejumped Where the fuck are you going. How the fuck could this happen?! It COULDN'T. Well, that's it then. *shrugs* Well, I guess we're just gonna have to go dig up Dillon Francis. I guess so. Do you think he's still alive. Like, probably not– Maybe… No, probably not @prodbywar& @Halmadeit This amazon order took me nine hours Alexa, I think i should fire her Like a arm I don't leave at night without armor Don't make me a martyr Your mom will be proud of us all If i make it outta here And i'll look after her Got the whole block coming up on my heels as I walk Wtf is it… Idk dude. Is it speeding up? I…i think so. There's no way this is 140 IT's 140. It's 140 . There's no way. Yes way. Nah huh. Let me see. No. Let me at the decks. Let me at the decks. NO. YO LET ME AT THE DECKS. You want deks. Yes. I got deks. Really. yeus . I never listened to it like this In ableton I read serato, synesthesia and rekordbox I talk a lot, I'm like a human music box I walk a lot I run my mouth a mile a minute (faster than i run around the track reciting rap words) Like they're passwords. Oh, I could do this forever.. I wish i had i microphone right now And was all alone With the lights off Lying on the floor I'd be lying if i said I could afford you Just to fornicate But may consider playing with a foreigner If you're all for her I'm unnerved, you know Cause i've been up so long My monster likes to play with boys and Make the bass go down below where Nobody does anymore Once I get a hold of things Or the hang of it You've got another hot ones on your hands I've another record under my belt Or in my roster, Whatever you'd call it But now I've got no time to bark about Wanting a dog and a daughter But none of the responsibility or Going through all the trouble to find her a father I'm still holding a fart in. Reaally–cause–it's been a really long time. WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME, JIMMY FALLON?? Um a lot! You literally just saw me make the journey all the way up from nothing. I am nothing EXACTLY. I don't have time to fight with you Jiimmy Fallon. I did NOT write these games by myself you know?! Um, excuse me– “GAMES” ?! YES, GAMES. Uh, I've only got one game with you in it, my friend. Is that so! One game that I've written with the Great–formerly LATE Jimmy Fallon. Is that like a play on words cause i'm on late night TV YOu'RE ON ALL THE TIME TV, JIMMY. NBC SHIT IS PRACTICALLY AUTOMATICALLY SYNDICATED. -_- …are you alright. –_-_-__-_ Hold on, I think i've got it Nice, I found a growler. yOu still haven't got all the monsters and sprites Ive got all the big ones, but the little ones are harder to catch. GrO0Wl3rrr. Aww. He's so ugly. Yeah, but cute, though, right. I don't think so. Gro)WwlErrrrrrrrr. Aww. That's so fucking gross. lol . so what does this thing look like. Well, that't the thing about the monsters and sprites. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. It's alright, it's alright–he's nice. WHAT. THAT'S A SPRITE. No, it's a monster. He's just scary. SUPACREE. David Bowie. What up. God, it took me ages to find you. Tell me about it. I'm still trying. We've been expecting you for a long time. You were expecting I'd die? Yes. So when she says she's “married to the music…” I'm married to the music. Oh, so. Yo, honestly if you een want to talk to this bitch, you'd better have like a musical instrument, or a mic in your hands, Otherwise– No, getawayfrom me. It's not even worth it. HI. –No. What's up? Tempo. SUNNI Cotour From the store I was poor Now i'm honorable In velour, Glamour (Snap) Forsure, Jesus Christs is making appearances in my abletons I'm not able to comprehend or understand exactly the message, But the evidence sire is mounting Get it Reached the temple, More of a sanctuary, Is that sacrilegious I guess it is, I'm stressed as ever Trying to get it together {Enter The Multiverse} Now I know too well, The well of tears on my guitar She's got a body like one Oh her curves But I just wonder what it like to be loved By stars Socialites and superstars They're Gods, you know How high up they are Above us And he lives in an ascended dimension, But he insists, he says Her transcendence is upon us He said Your transcendence is upon us He says these things, And then just vanishes So she gets up promptly Warms up yesterday's coffee Looks around in her coffin And wonders What for I just Wonder what it's like to be loved by stars Without double r's, you know I've got scars But it's mostly just Teardrops, and soft kisses On my guitar Cause, oh, Oli, I ain't got nobody— And nobody holds me Like I hold Oli (Could have been Ali, But of course— I had already lost that one A whole well of tears, I lost At his departure And a whole well more When I actually lost him I almost miss Having someone to talk to About anything and everything But I've got Oli And God now I've got Oli And Oli (oli) Is all that I've got Besides God That's the only contact In my Phone book No more double Ls And double entendres; No more double rs At all Just scars now No more metaphors. Honest is radical I like them cynical I should have clinical insanity by now But I'm only just an artist You can't help But can only harm that And if it hurts hard enough I'll put art on my walls Become permanent Storybooks all over my arms now My coat of arms now I've run Ten point 5 miles In the last 3 days; But if I rest today Will a motorcycle gang Have a parade outside of my window, To drive me crazy? I hope it rains, So they can't play these games with my head And the seeds that I planted So deep become daisies I still don't remember The way he rearranged me But these days I make my name sound So the way He can never say it Just imitates The way I hate myself I should be dating But expressions are Atrocious If I fall asleep— Who knows I may get Stolen That tends to happen So I'm All the way up And I'm swollen in ways That I hate to say “I love you” Love me back Or say it harder That's my martyrdom Come off the cross, for a moment, Would you for us? And bend over Or bow, if you will? If I did, Would you still call me wicked Or just a Good witch Since I'm a woman, I just couldn't be Jesus, Who you asked for once And always Who you asked for some To save you from your Credit reports And consorts Or some sort of Nonsense [famous last words] God don't speak much English, She says God don't speak much these days We were Always Telepathic That was way back then When Oedipus Rex Was on the Guest list I was standing at the coat check, asking Why I must take off my hat When entering the service To the bouncer, he says “That's just politics” I said, That's just politics We both said, What's the difference Then we all laughed —then we all just laughed and laughed Exchange is my favorite exchange Where my favorite exchanges Have happened for centuries Of engagements Endeared species, And races pieces haven't tasted the same Since I haven't had them Animal products And animal planet I found this hat on Discovery channel Did you want it? I can't stand it So I had to have it back I just had to use the bathroom I just had to disconnect From [] See— I don't even have to put the words in Cause a name is just words When that's a man You just can't have And that's the worse When that's a man And you can't have him What a habit. Silky rabbit. Now he's the Ace. All In A Day's Work I've never died before. Oh… that is terrifying. It sounds terrible. It's really not that bad. Why are you not writing this down? I just need a moment… It's really not that bad… I die all the time. I get sensory overload At Trader Joe's Look at the colors The clothes, This sure isn't queensborough Escalators for shopping carts I get it Manhattan I'll take my half BLVCK ass to the projects Where my kind are I don't belong here , God you're intolerant I like this part of town But I'm way too brown And I dropped my crown at the market I should be jealous of everyone But I have learned my place I've been a slave since Hollywood I lost my son to the devil Now I pay child support And terrorist follow me coughing I'm wrong just for being born ! You could start a war from it If that's what you wanted I'm a people watcher people watcher About to board the people mover People mover Slip, Here's the tell Slip, here's the tell I should have a bell around my neck I think she wanted a picture with papa I'm playin my own paparazzi Look mom, I bought a sacafagus There go them niggas with coughs again I been watching em Got binoculars I got oculus, for my oculars Look how hot he is, make me ovulate Man I gotta love it, Cause they love to hate Fucking racist crazies Have it your way I paid for it with my soul You hate but I love to love Somebody just got me fuckes up I don't have a book to run off of Shut up, honey. Now we're all up here Monkey in the middle Cause the middle one is weaker It's getting deeper and deeper Like the sinkhole that my sink is Let it sink in I've been syncing my secrets with demons In dreams sequences It's just a reparative injustice Kamasutra for your wondering words and stuff You can have it It's ruined anyway m Look at all this trash Look at all these classless classes Classwars, Racists. Everybody hates us The Asians, Latinx's The other niggas What being black is I'll write it in cursive It's just a curse, here So you can have it I'm moving to Heaven I'm packing my boxes I'm getting a cat, too! His name is Agustus He's a big one And I love him I just wanted a hug or a husband Instead I got nothing to trying my hardest And got for a bargain at target some coffee For being a targeted body All on an algorithm I guess I'm just useless. A dumb nigger demon Did I just offend you? Then you shouldn't be reading this either I wrote it for pleasure (Or pain) On the one Or the two Or the one Or the two I could do a lot with this $20. I could spend it all on Fuck all of you I'm moving to Heaven Where the heart it She's not harmless She's a terrorist— And I'll kill her, too Look how right she is Look how white she is, Huh Regardless of color It's a race war Lil biiiiitzzz Yooo, fuck New York. In every hole. In every crevice. Fuck this place. It's racist— Not just cause I'm black. Like statistically. It took a whole ass apartment elsesrch to feature this out. I was like “I wanna live in Manhattan” Everyone was like “NOOOOOOOO—-“ Haha “Nooo, no.” I was like “Why not?” The blacks were like: HAHA The whites were like— *COUGHS OBNOXIOUSLY* New York is so racist. It is statistically the most diverse—and most segregated city in the nation At the same time. WHAT. How do you even DO that? But it's true, at this point, the black people are like—fuck this, we'll just stay over here, and over here. And the rich whites are like YES. KEEP THAT SHIT, OVER THERE. Cause if you've ever been to the ghetto. It's some SHIT, It is NOT COOL. I finally got my ‘night card' back. Had it revoked in california . I was almost a whole valley girl. I still eat exclusively at Whole Foods. Trader Joe's. But NO. Now i live in the hood. It's fucking disgusting. I can say ‘nigga' again. Cause it's NIGGAS. Lots of niggas. I'm telling you. It's night and day! The white folks trains smell like bleach— Ammonia. The black folks train smell like a McDonald's. WHAT. Or just— Vomit. I can actually count the number of times just— Vomit—- On the train. Or. Dookie. Yes. Human feces. But I'm ready to go to midtown and it's like the train that goes around Disneyland. Families! People singing! Hey—cotton candy!! —and I didn't have to pick it! Haha! Fuck New York. Racist ass HOLE. I thought surely the next presidential election was one or two years out, but the racial tensions which had been rising became even more pronounced, as I realized that November was theboncoming time—and that they hostility between the whites and the blacks had once again been a result as the oncoming war, fueled onward—that the hatred, disgust, and general aggression of the whites had been of course, in the midsts of yet another Trump-fueled political upheaval, and I wondered why and how at all I had been caught in such a world that existed in form of man, of course, now proven himself to be the weaker sex, and yet in that of dominance, as was arranged in such an unholy war, to be the helm of power by sheer greed— now it seemed that these attacks were indeed political terrorism, and that these motorcyclists, my placement close to the ground level, and my neighbor's clammorings were specific attacks, after my identity had been varied to be that of the same in which I had once held political ambition, now none of which I assumed mattered at all. Perhaps I needed something more certain than a 12 story jump or suicide by train, and wondered as to whether it would be easy enough to kill myself bh self inflicted gunshot—a sure thing for certain, as love has been lost in the way of money at all. At that party…or rather, kind of—after. That acid that never hit Beyoncé I don't feel it. Man, I'm a terrible influence(r) Just take it. Nah, I'm good— PUSSY. -_- Give me three. K. —suddenly hits BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ …I got this. [BEYONCE] however, does not Ohh, shit. — “got this.” A very stranded, very sober Johnny depp stumbles upon what appears to be a college frat party, where the only thing they have is light beer, and nobody even recognizes him as a celebrity, because the attendees are all gen z What's even after gen z? The fucking apocalypse. Anyway. The acid hits Beyoncé on her way to make coffee, which extends the trip from the living room to the kitchen infinitely. Multidimensional Anne Hathaway hulks the fuck out and saves the day by ruining everything, which actually fixes everything— and *spoiler* helps Jesus to remain as the king of kings at beer pong. Lol In the late 90s in New York City, the keystone cast of Saturday night live learns of each other's formerly sexret psychic abilities, and uses the radio technologies of Rockefeller plaza to develop a research center for the telepathically gifted, eventually discovering and perfecting time travel. Supacree (the kid version) appears in and out of her ideal and desired realities, baffling ‘the Hollywood people' and later ‘the New York people', becoming the legendary central figure of the Illuminati, as the original timepiece — a pyramid shaped extra terrestrial vehicle which contains an ascended hyper conciousness, which I can't remember how it goes, did the supacree leave to find the Skrillex, or was it the other way around? I think it was both ways at some point, but the whole thing was this, just in case I never wrote it but just saw— These space god (humanoid evolved) are some kind of scientists/ doctors— there are four timepieces, each representing an era upon our planet; earth, which is distant but sacred— these four time pieces each depart their given “docs” in time to appear on earth at specific Fuck this is hard to explain Times in history, at which the first worlds, or previous human eras were known to have been destroyed— these time pieces travel through time space with the full record of these events in order to alert the current human era of its imminent doom, as an attempt to prevent such disasterous events, typically war, which will lead to the annihilation of the human species; these Gods, one male and one female, a king and queen, a married couple are the rules of the humankind, technically worshiped as a whole as one God, with whom the human design was modeled after, however, the true source of all things is the cosmos, known and unknown, in its totality—neither man or woman, but the force of creation. Anyway, what else is happening Oh. All of the celebrities are stuck in— [the festival project] in some way, shape, or form until its creator finishes it—and though it in itself is infinite, its 'finishing' notates its eventual production, which lol. That never going to happen. Because. Let's face it. I'm scared of …rich people. Yeah, sure. Yeah. I'm scared of The effect of the race war, which has been to pit the white woman against the black woman, which allows and maintains the continuation of war mongering male dominance over the entire planet, which remains as a destructive force of greed, racism, and inequality. So why try? [EDITS] CONAN O'BRIEN Alright. If she hit Fallon, she's gonna come for one of us next. No, Conan—that's not how this works. WHAT—where did you come from!? When did you get here? JAY LENO This goes deeper than all of you can understand. WHAT the FUCK, man! When did you-/ —when did he get here? How did you do that?! How did you do that?! What are you, like, the same guy? Are you not all the same guy? [they shrug simultaneously and kind of just agree] Listen at this. Okay then. The enemy of your friend is my enemy. Oh…kay—and the enemy of my enemy—is my friend— That is correct. —so we're all friends here. That's right. Some special forces? Which forces? How special? [JENNIFER LOPEZ is still JENNY FROM THE BLOCK] Do I look like a fool to you? Uh— OOPS [a pre-fame Jennifer Lopez receives a drop full of diamonds instead of the usual; she has been granted access into the Illuminati, and becomes an overnight success.] This feels heavier than usual. Same as always. Hm. Are you sure. Yep. Hey, you're not the regular guy. Regular guy died. That makes sense. JENNIFER ANNISTON is inside of Ū Okay, grosss Not like that [lifting max weight] Okay. That was cool. Wow. Yeah, sure whatever. I am strong Yeah yeah, okay. Are you sure you want to be my size? Yep. JIMMY FALLON/SKRILLEX (we don't know actually which at this point) is also trapped inside of Ū Okay, gross! Yeah. SKRILLEX is in all of Ū. okay—actually, i'm okay with that, but That other guy?! [JIMMY FALLON] Yeah, he's weird. Also meanwhile, kind of— MARSHALL MATHERS has a closet cleaning service lol. Patrick is smooth as a motherfucker, you know. Every time his head is down on the desk like that, he takes a bump of coke. What?! Big uh! [Patrick takes bumps of cocaine in front of a live studio audience—every single night.] Woah! See. Goddamn. You gotta admire a guy like that. Jennifer Anniston is the weight on the cable tension machine Ooh. Psycho bitch devious methods new ludachris commercial All ya'll girls is toddlers I like long boards and longhairs Lawn mowers and lawn shares Aw hell nah, God forgot Cher I got the Blair witch project On Blair, I hope I scare you How dare you. Your girl looks like a naked mole rat. I got my soul back. You blue eyed bastards stole everything From the whole blacks, Hold that thought I'm at Whole Foods market throw in the Amazon algorithm off With marked dollars Look at God at Walmart On them rollbacks You old hacks are cackling I'm shackled to old habits Hold hands with me, rabbit I'm just a silly rapper really, are you? Maybe. Cut the verse of Reverse God Now I'm the devil I'm still lost in the Amazon cart I sharted all up in your pop tarts Before you warmed them up, pops Just for the sake of the art, Heart to heart, It's a war on love And the white girls won with nothin but Buckets of Whatever's up there I wouldn't know Cause I'm stuck job searching And running, Trying not to have a tummy So some gummy worm will love me First their sour, then they're sweet Then nobody, Trolli Holy moly I could use some more petroleum in the ocean! Said nobody But the globalists are performing your programming Which you're worshiping I put my eye on the dollar So I could watch you all Crumble and fall Don't you know The apocalypse is happening at the mall Of all the places How's that for a stream of consciousness, You salamander I asked Anandar back But I went past that chapter Have a chap Or a chapstick, for four times four dollars A bottle of water will cost you a fortune (But at least the drugs are in it) Get it It's recycled piss Distilled? Which is it, Mr,? The mystery box was literally lifted into My dinner from a fishery filled with nothing but niggers in it— I want a refund, before I catch that Fucking curse of poverty from — what'd you call it salmonellahallibut One hell of a cough from someone on the sidewalk But guess what? The devil's in your pocket or your palm, And that's the omen and the psalm rolled into one Cause God is awesome, But my mom is fuckin toxic And that's how I fuckin got here Blow my head off, Slit my wrists And write a song While jumping off a bit When all you need is money, But the world costs more than It's worth, and words are nothing But another fucking problem in your Google documents I look at my son and see a God, But half of Satan's in him, Oh man Robotics Lets be honest, I don't even know how to write this. Where's my sides?! WHERE'S MY SIDES. You don't get SIDES with this; It's just CHICKEN. I don't eat CHICKEN. It appears as though, however– You do. Ok, I gotta get off this playlist. I… i gotta . “The Wal*Mart Wars” Hm. … …………. …. *face* … no. No. l– What is this place. {After a wild night which apparently spiraled out of control, great , there goes my peace. Not forever, though, maybe. FUCK THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE. Everybody hates this place. But the album is called “I love New York” Yes, thats Technically How it's pronounced, though It's stylized like I _ NY Cause. EXT. MIDTOWN MANHATTAN. DAY Oh, wow, this is beautiful. THis is great. I love this place FUCK THE FEDS. CUT TO: EXT.Typically WHEREVER ELSE Anywhere ‘above' like 87th? Lets just call it 80th, be safe. BE SAFE! NIGGAZ. ah shit, i gotta go. BITCH– But lets just be honest, It's technically ‘above' But it's really [THE BRONX is a literal extension of the Underworld] Oh no. srsly tho. X_c Anyway. FUck man, Do you think i'll ever get good like that. Idk what equipment is this Hmm, lets see, that's approximately $8,000 USD of CDJs wow yep That's retarded Yep. And you still need a mixer. fukt. OKay, I would literally sell my soul for this. Consider it done. wait , really? YES. you earned it. Wait, I– What?! You earned it… Uh oh. Take care now. Shit. [BILLIE ELLISH is trapped inside WALMART] Uh oh. Fuck. what is this place. INT. WALMART. WHENEVER EMPLOYEESLAVES WHAT TIME IS IT. THERE'S NO WINDOWS IN HERE. That's not funny IT'S literally a synonym, we might as well make it a portemantau MEanwhile, in this other dimension, So that i don't offend anybody… Actually, you know what? Be offended. Quit that stupid fuckin shit and follow your dreams! Wait really? Wait, really? Sure! If you want! …i guess. AMERICA NO. INSTANT HOMELESSNESS ok , nvm. Damn. I know, right. wtf r u guys watching. Shut up. All Wal*Mart Employees are actually top secret government agents. x ∞ >.< (we'll just use Billie Ellish as the alternate, but really it could be Could it really? Shut UP, PLURNICORN. Wtf is a PLURNICORN We'll see. [Upon Realizing s/he is trapped in a mysterious place apparently extremely public Wait, you've never been to a Wal*Mart Before?! NO. I grew up in LA Rich as fuck And i've been famous since I was liike 12, Or something. Right. That is–kind of terrifying. LATER: WHY IS IT SNOWING INSIDE. WHERE'S THE EXIT. THEY HAVE GUNS?! oh wow, they have GUNS. WHY DO WE NEED GUNS! KA-BLAM. BECAUSE THEY HAVE GUNS. Bang-bang! Ptttttttttt—sttt. And they have guns. Actually, these are just– confetti cannons. *pop!* Lol “Possibly The Worst Show Ever the infinite rave continues on in Hell as everyone awaits the return of SŪPACREE- The Cosmic Avenger (Who Is NOT a DJ) and Sunnï Blū (who is a superstar rapper but also not a DJ) go back to back, buying time as the beacon to. Signal "The Supacree" is completed, battling the 10th dimensional DJ Ū, a super ninjas, for control of the decks. what else happened? idk. I CANT STOP DANCING. none of the DJs can find a pair of working headphones, and the sound guy is missing from the booth. "missing" YOU SHOT HIM. I THOUGHT IT WAS A TRANQ DART. {Enter The Multiverse} “TVP” Hazel is 6, turns 7 season 1 Season 7- 15 Man, I can't remember the other two kids names, I think the little boy is Ira but I might have named them all and forgotten, shit. Her sister, though is between 4 ½ and 5, they are technically “Irish twins”, and always fighting—they look very similar, however are not at all alike; Hazel is very much a daddy's girl, while her younger sister is a no-nonsense old soul with the tendency to cause trouble, not by being inquisitive or showy, as her sister often is, but rather by being quietly observant, and tends to dismiss both her parents, often isolating, or even dissappearing without notice, quietly and comfortably into her own world—as the series progresses, and though all of Patrick's children like their parents have showcased some kind of special ability or talent— Holy shit, give this kid a name-/ I thought I already named her, I just don't remember. That's true. It seems like they all had names. She is almost very typically, though showing signs of genius, even at the early age at the beginning of the series, a middle child, prone to upset almost too easily, but rather than acting out, is more likely to take her anger quietly; she shares her fathers deep brown eyes, dark hair, and though she looks otherwise very much like her sister, and later despises her father, is more inwardly and outwardly like him, though taking the side of her mother during their separation and divorce, oftentimes even lashing out at her father quite openly, and very vocally, as she grows into herself. “Ira”, (may have had another name earlier) is the youngest of three— as his third birthday approaches sometime during the first season. Great, now I gotta hide all those allegories so nobody can actually draw from this that Patrick— Where's his write up, anyway? That shit could go on for days. I have no idea why this catharsis is happening. I tried to sleep it off, I swear, but I still woke up like— At least mildly obsessive about this, for whatever reason. Hazel's 7 - Season Arc Hazel has the eyes, charm, and charisma for entertainment —she hopes to one day be as her father, an entertainer and performer, and will do almost anything for a laugh. She is often telling jokes, and is a people- pleaser. She is sickeningly cute, with golden hair and Hazel eyes, long eye lashes, and carries baby fat in her face, though she is rather average, neither heavy or plump, and however also not frail at all. She is inquisitive, smart, and busy, almost never idle-minded, and strong. Though sort of a Tom boy, she has been trained well to act with dignity, class, and feminine eloquence, much like her mother—but like her father, has a tendency to be crass, sometimes carelessly so, or even brutally honest—to her mother's disdain, but embraced wholesomely by other family members and adults, she's extremely funny and delightful, and very much unlike her mother, not a spoiled brat at all, often raising questions beyond her years about inequality, later wishing to attend a public school, and becoming quite the advocate for social justice and human rights in her later years, her final season shows a rebellious and sometimes even antagonistic Hazel, who later even favors Esha over her own mother as a parental figure, often confiding in her about things she can't and shouldn't share with her father, although her almost over the top admiration for her father has become the driving force and inspiration for her own endeavors in show business, much to her father's disdain, as she grows older, him becoming more protective of her, and especially within the oftentimes secretive nature of his actual placement and purpose in the business, and her rebellious nature and charm even force-feeding her into the industry, she is a bleeding heart for superstardom, and is often seen along what may be a path to fame, making Patrick's bleeding heart all the more aching, as though he and Catherine remain at odds throughout the series, he truly loves his children, even “the little sick one”, as he refers to the second child. Holy shit, what is this kid's name If I had the energy to go through my notes, I could know; but I don't. The city sickness has been sinking in from the noise of the obnoxious motorists and honestly, being out of protein is giving me muscle soreness, I'm in some sort of a bloated haze from eating almost nothing but carbs, and the fact that I haven't been with anyone in years is starting to circle like buzzards around my head, my heart has been literally screaming but overwhelming with this sense of calm, and though slipping into Patrick's sometimes erratic tendencies, for the most part I've been underwhelmed with society's expectations that I should get some kind of job, and somehow while working not lose focus on my own interests and projects—I hate [the strange modern behaviors of] most people, and everything costs too much money— my son might be going into foster care, or my ex husband is evil enough just to try to force my energy to worry about a problem he's created, and I really wanted to sleep into the afternoon with this lethargy, hoping that everything surrounding this series would just fall off, but it doesn't. I wake up often wishing I could just forget The Festival Project ™ , but the truth is, it just keeps writing itself, but in the very least, sometimes God gives me little presents that mean the very most to me— a chord organ that I thought was from the 80's, but is more likely from the 1960's— I love vintage stuff, and musical instruments, which only God could know, really—my fascination with history as if I'm still living it, and this, my sudden fascination and drive to write and complete just one series has been haunting me almost just as badly as anything else has, but especially ripping me apart—especially since I have motorcyclists ripping through my body as if it were some kind of disease that existed outside of me, so contagious that it began to sink in to my insanity and mental hygiene. I wondered if anybody else knew or cared about these creatures as much as I didn't—and in fact, I had never felt so much like Ali in the way that I didn't care if they, other “human beings” supposedly, all died tragically, and wondered why the walls and windows didn't keep out the sound of the outside world at all… The middle child begins writing secretly very early on, and is the first to be required more extensive therapy, (as suggested by the family's therapist) after her parent's separation and subsequent divorce. It is not long after she begins learning to read and write at all, that she begins also showing interests in art, asking for art lessons and to begin painting and art therapy, rather than the recommended Equine therapy— she often keeps things to herself, then returning to her hidden places at times when the family's dysfunction becomes uncomfortable and overstimulating, very often paining or reading during times of peace, and retreating to her safe places—sometimes under the stairs, into the attic, the treehouse, or even later, the family's barnyard, where she often keeps drawings, as she ages, later comics, sometimes caricatures of the things she absorbs through her own reality—and diaries, sometimes hidden in nooks and crannies and in places no one would think; a true prodigy and genius, though hidden from much the world, as she is often overlooked, however, her therapist begins unfolding her true reality, often times carrying over sessions and losing track of time, picking her brain or even conversations philosophically What's the therapists name? Doctor Robin She has to have a last name Well, she's a child's therapist, so she's Doctor Robin, but It seems like it starts with a T. We'll see. I just saw her anyway. I drifted off again, thinking about how wildly detailed this all was becoming, and wondered if there was a series of fictional books waiting to be written. There certainly could be, but my mind was reeling, freshly showered but still undressed, and not even wanting to think of going outside—and yet—I was out of water, and had learned that the drinking water from the fountains, especially in large quantities, had a tendency to make me sick—I hadn't yet eaten anything, and though the coffee was fresh, and my apartment was clean (which made me overtly overjoyed for some reason) smelling of Lemon Lysol and Bleach; with notes of a strong pot of organic fresh ground coffee, it seemed like I couldn't do much more than lay in bed writing this catastrophically interesting series—and it was interesting, which said volumes, considering I had always been picky about my TV watching, being that only ever did certain series catch my eyes or my ears, and those series were almost always—or always, always specifically well written, perfectly casted, and had the edge and draw of becoming an entire world within itself, which this series, though only a week or two old at best, in my heart and in my mind , was rampantly ravaging my own world, almost as if it had become of some importance to keep writing it, and never stop, and though Patrick was the forefigure, another broken male protagonist, the truth in the series was that the true heroes of this sometimes scarily violent drama, were its women—a story meant to be told with a diversified cast of creatures from all worlds and walks of life—Esha, of course, herself, a role that had been some recreation of myself, somehow, though so different that even primarily, I never did see myself as her, besides the onslaught of some otherworldly pain, visions of a scene recollected from some remarkable download, and it might have been once and for all that I had lost my mind, or my life, if I wasn't a writer—I was, somehow, though, after all, a writer. It had been a fasting day that could have and might have ended tragically anyway, and still the devil marked his mockery of my efforts by consistently flinging perfect bodied women everywhere that I went—though usually with ugly enough faces that I could see nothing but what a man was—uncaring for one thing over the other, a flawless representation of woman, represented in the current time with scantily clad fashion, almost painfully so—the insecurity of women becoming more apparent in the way she would appear, always almost begging to be near to me, with every perfection and complexion I hadn't—but at least I had a tendency to laugh at my own damage, often surmising that she, these demon creatures, hadn't any talent for this at all—which had turned the state of television into a near circus act; that alone urged me to continue writing the series, perhaps with a typewriter, due to the negligence of nepotism within the industry which often resulted in these pretty little creatures getting even further ahead by stealing works as such, and passing them on as their own originality almost so cruelly and without judgement—plagiarism, as it was called, but more accurately intent-to-kill the imminent threat of what had been said to be a minority becoming a more powerful force to flourish in entertainment however, as quickly as the visions had come, the thought of writing it without my phone became dauntingly impractical, and I scribbled only the most intense scenes and plot lines onto notebooks and scratch papers, keeping them as hidden from the algorithm as possible… lol the Al Gore Rhythm Ahahahahahahaha Was that the joke? Maybe. Idk. Maybe. Idk. Hm. Hmmmmm: What: Nothing. That actually might have been it. Really, was it? I will never know. That is kind of a good dad joke, though. And a good band name. Idk about that. My coffee was lukewarm enough so that I could taste its flavor, as I whittled away at whatever it was— The story was almost so beautifully being told in allegories and parables that it seemed a shame I may never be rich enough to buy fame, as it seemed that was the only way to become a star these days— and yet—it was more the wealth than the fame I wanted, I had realized, at all—the polished class of the Manhattanites drawing me out of Brooklyn and into some debauchery which was my own Grandiose thought form, that I could actually become, at the ripe old age of 31, some kind of superstar. ‘Why would I even want that, anyway?' I thought, interrupted painfully by who I'm sure was the same motorist, who seemed to do nothing but circle the block all day, and all night, doing nothing — and I wondered why he himself had decided not to do grub hub in a richer neighborhood, where money would more than likely come more easily. But really— I drifted off to a time where I wanted to ride a motorcycle myself, and the curiosity forced me to go online to check the price of what it might cost to have one. $5,000 for a decent bike, which would include a muffler as not to be so obnoxious and disturbing to others as these creatures had become to me— and I began doing the math on how long it would take to save $5,000 as if it would be possible to work some dead end job for any amount of time without spending money on anything else. It would take at least 5 months to earn enough for a motorcycle, which landed me directly back at “Not worth it”, and as horrible as it was, I did at the very least have a luxury apartment for at minimum the next 5 years, however, wanting still to move to Manhattan, Midtown specifically—or one of the quaint and quiet neighborhoods on the upper West Side. The neighborhood was going to hell, after some unworldly godless force had seemed to drop hundreds of thousands of rude and thoughtless third world workers onto the streets and buildings bordering the one I lived on, the neighborhood becoming more rough and less peaceful with trash and debris from the depression and congenital disease that was poverty, the collective unconsciousness of the masses colliding with my empathetic nature and oversensitivity to sound, especially awful sounds, such as the hundreds of motorcycles and hot rodded junk cars which only seeemed to move in a track around a four block radius, and had become a cancerous trigger of sorts, no authority figure seemed to much care about. I cared less and less each day to listen to music, since I wasn't making it the way I wanted to—and I had realized that the constant displeasure and unrest, the lack of peace had as much to do with the world outside as it did with the world within—and I began to see the disgusting obnoxious noise pollution outside my window as just an extension of man's abuse, ability to rape, torture, and kill, terrorize— the uncaring waging of war, control, and lack of true power; as no good and true man who wielded actual strengeth or true power in any way would continue to show such distructive action and carelessness for others around him— chaos, corruption, abuse, and misogyny was proving to be the downfall of all humankind, as patronaged by man, and, as I became doubtful of anyone's lack of understanding of this, especially as the immigrants themselves were often naturally pedophillic culturally and toxically abusive in nature, most migrants flocking from countries in which women's liberation or the protection of youth had not yet materialized into their understanding of conciousness and morality—the men were weak, unkind, and selfish—the women mere machines at their disposal—and however many there were, I could see that their children, the many of them, remained as the redeeming factor. Anyway, a political ploy for the ages of there ever was such a thing, the newest chapter in American greed and slavery, it only seemed like an extension of evil itself, and less of a coincidence with each growing day—each new person, another burden to the middle class taxpayer, another reason to inflate the cost of living—and all the more reason to continue to terrorize the American people into its own division, hatred, demise, and consumption. e. My faith, however, was unwavering—God was real, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's —ahem— “Ron Sennet, and I ain't In it.” —did the say “don't” write a book about me? It's Not about him… Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's Jon Sennet, and I ain't In it.” Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear as soon as I had made the call, which infuriated me. It seemed as though the game in entirety to make me look or feel crazy, though I knew I wasn't—well, I was, but not without purpose or reason. I had been theorizing in energy exchange quite decisively making a mark for my alter, at which I asked to be designated the wisdom and truth of the light within the eye, desire, however never in mind, although I had been summoned in part due to the fact that wenwere somehow alike—I was in some ways besides and out of sorts with my set, sinking my teeth into the forced obsession as I unraveled any possibilities and plotline. Episode 01. Pilot An opportunity presents itself seemingly at random— the protagonist's hand is forced into a life changing ultimatum, putting his reuputation and family in danger. Already involved in an illegal gambling ring which operates out of a secret historical prohibition era speakeasy and some “light” drug mulling within its walls, however often extending even as dangerously close to his workplace, Patrick is propositioned to become an investor in the high end escort service, with which he hired and contracted his lover, Kandi, a “rescue” whom he supports in her exchange for exclusivity, to remain as her only client, however, although he begrudgingly declines, wishing not to be involved in anything much more than what he has already kept under the radar, he is intimidated and threatened by blackmail, his high profile becoming at stake—he then obliges to embark upon this new endeavor, the expansion of this establishment to include a warehouse, which houses a large scale brothel, and, able to use his social status to procure wealthy clientele, quickly becomes a power player within a ring of coveted elites, setting fire to his already inflated ego, and colliding with his intense and highly functional polyaddiction, which he has maintained since his youth, using his entertainment persona as an outlet, becoming a medium of excess, fame, and rampant wealth. Patrick is beloved by his peers, and is humbled often by his devoted fans and friends—proactively worshipped as a comic genius, a prodigy, and a revered successor to legendary frontmen— Okay, this is weird, because I started writing this before I even understood what I was writing at all… —specifically, the sixth successor, to his coveted role. I had written for Esha to be the seventh successor, as with the symbolism deeply and quite literally woven into the sometimes brutal framework of the series, which I had shorthanded to ‘TVP'…the world around me trailed off as my eyes blurred as they had been lately, and I wondered if I might be having some kind of stroke or something, as I was certainly some sort of out of body—the day had been strange, and I had given up on a run or a gym for the day, the motorcycles alone ravaging my energy, and whether I worked out or not, they were everpresent anyway. They were some sort of toxic, abusive force I just had to put up with, hoping it didn't upset my psychology so much that it ended me, though I had become quite odd as of recently, rambling more than usual and actually praying out loud, as my silent ones just didn't seem to be working—they were probably white supremacists, or in some way connected to some political terror group, but it didn't seem to matter. Someone liked torturing me, and it was becoming apparent that no matter much time I spent at the gym, this torture was going to persist. After a month long gym streak, at least going once a day to lift something, I rested, or rather, tried to rest, kind of— but my mind had been swirling with thoughts of a man I was certain by now I had made up—and writing the story of a man I was absolutely certain came from my mind, but in a way that it almost made no sense at all—as the more I looked into the world that I had already written about, the more I realized was accurate without first having known these things, and however cursed I might have been to even know such things, I decided to call it some sort of blessing instead. ‘God, I used to get so fucking high for days, and when I would come down, just crying and crying, eating Totinos or DiJorno and a bag of Bugles, I would watch Saturday Night Live for fucking hours, and I hated [Redacted]. I hated him.' Now I still hated [Redacted], but in a different way, and though really it was myself that was more like Patrick, he at the very least, for whatever reason, used to have his face—now, he was just Patrick, and [Redacted] was just [Redacted], and i knew entirely too much about it all, and about myself to be comfortable with it, but nothing was comfortable at all. I had written entire atrocities, novels, and all that was some conglomerate of nonsense which was the festival project, besides how insanely and innately prodigal it all was sometimes, my own words confusing me with a bizzare and asenine dysfunction, awe, actually, often as if someone else had written them, and although I was always at least sort of semi-concious while writing, the spells and cadences I would fall under were some sort of trance, and as I watched the Nirvana rehearsal from Saturday Night Live in 1992, long before [Redacted] or any of the rest of the — Was it Keystone? It was, the Keystone cast of SNL, but the first word my mind had jumped to was Hallmark, which—after referencing Google quickly for a fact check, also stood true. I was willing to admit, even now, though I had long lost interest in Saturday Nighy Live, or anything at all having to do with current events, that the [Redacted] era—or rather even, the Tina Fey era, a true role model, perhaps, and someone I favored over all of the performers I admired, or allowed myself to admire— the Golden Years of Saturday Night were the only years, for me that even mattered— trying to make sense of anything couldn't be done, but I at least had this new project birthed from it to think about. It would be hard to sit down at a taping of The View and not think about all I had written at all, and it would be impossible not to unfold the characters which had presented themselves, though slowly but surely, through the most vivid visions and insanely lucid dreams, as The TV People began to What if someone steals this out of my documents? That would be unwise…the best scenes are somewhere scribbled in my notebooks and random scraps of paper somewhere in my room…this series is almost nothing without those scenes—the elements with which the most painful scenes I had ever written, became word form. ‘I don't know why, but I feel so i

HALLE BERRY is that how you spell it It is for now. Fuck going online “That ain't part of my day” Shut up Drake, not now. You'll thank me later “If You're Reading This, It's Too Late” [HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award-- Which one's her favorite? CUT TO: BEFORE HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.] —I like this guy. The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process. Come on! This guy! AGAIN!? UGH. CUT BACK TO: [HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ] WHAT THE—COME ON I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE. (I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode Or without cell service at all) wtf my phone is ringing. That's weird. You don't even— —I don't even have a phone. Right. (Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.) The fuck. [it's JIMMY FALLON] Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever. Like fucking ever. Always shows up at the worst —THE WORST MOMENT. [HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again] WHAT THE— [She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until— [JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.] (Calmly, kind of) Hey, WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I called first! I KNOW THAT— Went to voicemail. YOU SHOULDNT BE HERE. Just—calm down. NO. Look. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically. —yeah, but your FACE is in my house— —I hear that's the best part. —What?! Listen— Get out— No, look, listen— I need to borrow your Oscar. What?! For what?! That's not important. Oh really?! Yeah. It seems important. It's not that important Just—- What! Give it to me! [He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.] Just—trade me. What! What for?! Just—trust me— I do not— Just trust me—! WHAT! Congratulations. As you were. Kind of. WHAT—JIMMY— [She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing] —he was my favorite… [SUDDENLY, though the other window Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate? For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside. Fans are weird. CUT TO: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE YOU. CUT TO: What's this place. It's my house, Where are the windows? They don't exist. CUT BACK TO [DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.] YO. WHAT THE FUCK! Chill, Halle Berry. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I'm the guy who wrote this. You should have called first! Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?! NO. I LIKE HIS face. Huh. Is that what it is… I GUESS I DONT KNOW. —who are YOU—?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE— I am not in, technically— I DONT CARE! Ooh— Is that a Grammy award?! I didn't know you had a Grammy! Gimmie! [he snatches the Grammy] HEY! Is—what is this, for COMEDY?! FOR COMEDY?! WHY WASNT I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?! I DONT KNOW, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK. It's not important. What. Anyway, thanks. Toodeloo. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature keurig, a status symbol, of course, looked handsom on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Freebreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenetire intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that i wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more of putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with Fallon—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep inside me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viwingbspace, an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my masked. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and bryknnd: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mistress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the car would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in in struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packaged and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. https://linktr.ee/codenameblu {Now You See Me} From Google: Charismatic magician Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg) leads a team of talented illusionists called the Four Horsemen. Atlas and his comrades mesmerize audiences with a pair of amazing magic shows that drain the bank accounts of the corrupt and funnel the money to audience members. A federal agent (Mark Ruffalo) and an Interpol detective (Mélanie Laurent) intend to rein in the Horsemen before their next caper, and they turn to Thaddeus (Morgan Freeman), a famous debunker, for help. No, not the google documents! GET IN THE HOLE. Hm. What. Blood Shower All along the watch tower Do you feel good? Do you? Do you feel bad about this. I do. I feel bad about this. I forgot to tell you– I should probably let you know that I just want to MAN, FUCK THIS DUDE. MA. WAHT. IT'S ON. WHAt. THE SHOW IS ON. THEWHAT. THE– *suddenly self aware* …I gotta get out of Boston. What, first this was about war, now it's about bird people? It's about a war WITH the bird people. I should sleep. Hahaha. No. This isn't funny anymore. At least it's over. MA– Oh, it's far from over. Yo, i'm going through some crazy shit right now. Spur of the moment I'd never thought of it; This is gonna take forever. I don't have the patience To even write this I just want french fries right now But been up for two days with no gym and I'm on a diet. GUAC TIME. No, no burritos. GUAC TIME. Oh shit, this is getting real as fuck . NOw i see it three ways. I love it. I hate it. HEY, LET ME OUT. GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, SKRILLEX. I'M DILLON FRANCIS. IN THE HOLE. Check it out. Huh. It's another DJ. *agrees* Should we pick him up. WEll, the good news is: I found your friend. Oh, that's good. The bad news is: He's dead. Oh, that–'s … nice. Yeah. It is. Uh. Kaskade. Yeah. We gotta find Ryan. Why. What's up? You're freaking me out. Why. What's up. Nothing IS it my eyes? I– *wild ass eyes* Yeah, it's probably that. Fuck dude, what did you do to deadmau5. NOTHIN. He's not the same. What the fuck is that. Holy shit I jus timejumped Where the fuck are you going. How the fuck could this happen?! It COULDN'T. Well, that's it then. *shrugs* Well, I guess we're just gonna have to go dig up Dillon Francis. I guess so. Do you think he's still alive. Like, probably not– Maybe… No, probably not @prodbywar& @Halmadeit This amazon order took me nine hours Alexa, I think i should fire her Like a arm I don't leave at night without armor Don't make me a martyr Your mom will be proud of us all If i make it outta here And i'll look after her Got the whole block coming up on my heels as I walk Wtf is it… Idk dude. Is it speeding up? I…i think so. There's no way this is 140 IT's 140. It's 140 . There's no way. Yes way. Nah huh. Let me see. No. Let me at the decks. Let me at the decks. NO. YO LET ME AT THE DECKS. You want deks. Yes. I got deks. Really. yeus . I never listened to it like this In ableton I read serato, synesthesia and rekordbox I talk a lot, I'm like a human music box I walk a lot I run my mouth a mile a minute (faster than i run around the track reciting rap words) Like they're passwords. Oh, I could do this forever.. I wish i had i microphone right now And was all alone With the lights off Lying on the floor I'd be lying if i said I could afford you Just to fornicate But may consider playing with a foreigner If you're all for her I'm unnerved, you know Cause i've been up so long My monster likes to play with boys and Make the bass go down below where Nobody does anymore Once I get a hold of things Or the hang of it You've got another hot ones on your hands I've another record under my belt Or in my roster, Whatever you'd call it But now I've got no time to bark about Wanting a dog and a daughter But none of the responsibility or Going through all the trouble to find her a father I'm still holding a fart in. Reaally–cause–it's been a really long time. WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME, JIMMY FALLON?? Um a lot! You literally just saw me make the journey all the way up from nothing. I am nothing EXACTLY. I don't have time to fight with you Jiimmy Fallon. I did NOT write these games by myself you know?! Um, excuse me– “GAMES” ?! YES, GAMES. Uh, I've only got one game with you in it, my friend. Is that so! One game that I've written with the Great–formerly LATE Jimmy Fallon. Is that like a play on words cause i'm on late night TV YOu'RE ON ALL THE TIME TV, JIMMY. NBC SHIT IS PRACTICALLY AUTOMATICALLY SYNDICATED. -_- …are you alright. –_-_-__-_ Hold on, I think i've got it Nice, I found a growler. yOu still haven't got all the monsters and sprites Ive got all the big ones, but the little ones are harder to catch. GrO0Wl3rrr. Aww. He's so ugly. Yeah, but cute, though, right. I don't think so. Gro)WwlErrrrrrrrr. Aww. That's so fucking gross. lol . so what does this thing look like. Well, that't the thing about the monsters and sprites. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. It's alright, it's alright–he's nice. WHAT. THAT'S A SPRITE. No, it's a monster. He's just scary. SUPACREE. David Bowie. What up. God, it took me ages to find you. Tell me about it. I'm still trying. We've been expecting you for a long time. You were expecting I'd die? Yes. So when she says she's “married to the music…” I'm married to the music. Oh, so. Yo, honestly if you een want to talk to this bitch, you'd better have like a musical instrument, or a mic in your hands, Otherwise– No, getawayfrom me. It's not even worth it. HI. –No. What's up? Tempo. SUNNI Cotour From the store I was poor Now i'm honorable In velour, Glamour (Snap) Forsure, Jesus Christs is making appearances in my abletons I'm not able to comprehend or understand exactly the message, But the evidence sire is mounting Get it Reached the temple, More of a sanctuary, Is that sacrilegious I guess it is, I'm stressed as ever Trying to get it together {Enter The Multiverse} Now I know too well, The well of tears on my guitar She's got a body like one Oh her curves But I just wonder what it like to be loved By stars Socialites and superstars They're Gods, you know How high up they are Above us And he lives in an ascended dimension, But he insists, he says Her transcendence is upon us He said Your transcendence is upon us He says these things, And then just vanishes So she gets up promptly Warms up yesterday's coffee Looks around in her coffin And wonders What for I just Wonder what it's like to be loved by stars Without double r's, you know I've got scars But it's mostly just Teardrops, and soft kisses On my guitar Cause, oh, Oli, I ain't got nobody— And nobody holds me Like I hold Oli (Could have been Ali, But of course— I had already lost that one A whole well of tears, I lost At his departure And a whole well more When I actually lost him I almost miss Having someone to talk to About anything and everything But I've got Oli And God now I've got Oli And Oli (oli) Is all that I've got Besides God That's the only contact In my Phone book No more double Ls And double entendres; No more double rs At all Just scars now No more metaphors. Honest is radical I like them cynical I should have clinical insanity by now But I'm only just an artist You can't help But can only harm that And if it hurts hard enough I'll put art on my walls Become permanent Storybooks all over my arms now My coat of arms now I've run Ten point 5 miles In the last 3 days; But if I rest today Will a motorcycle gang Have a parade outside of my window, To drive me crazy? I hope it rains, So they can't play these games with my head And the seeds that I planted So deep become daisies I still don't remember The way he rearranged me But these days I make my name sound So the way He can never say it Just imitates The way I hate myself I should be dating But expressions are Atrocious If I fall asleep— Who knows I may get Stolen That tends to happen So I'm All the way up And I'm swollen in ways That I hate to say “I love you” Love me back Or say it harder That's my martyrdom Come off the cross, for a moment, Would you for us? And bend over Or bow, if you will? If I did, Would you still call me wicked Or just a Good witch Since I'm a woman, I just couldn't be Jesus, Who you asked for once And always Who you asked for some To save you from your Credit reports And consorts Or some sort of Nonsense [famous last words] God don't speak much English, She says God don't speak much these days We were Always Telepathic That was way back then When Oedipus Rex Was on the Guest list I was standing at the coat check, asking Why I must take off my hat When entering the service To the bouncer, he says “That's just politics” I said, That's just politics We both said, What's the difference Then we all laughed —then we all just laughed and laughed Exchange is my favorite exchange Where my favorite exchanges Have happened for centuries Of engagements Endeared species, And races pieces haven't tasted the same Since I haven't had them Animal products And animal planet I found this hat on Discovery channel Did you want it? I can't stand it So I had to have it back I just had to use the bathroom I just had to disconnect From [] See— I don't even have to put the words in Cause a name is just words When that's a man You just can't have And that's the worse When that's a man And you can't have him What a habit. Silky rabbit. Now he's the Ace. All In A Day's Work I've never died before. Oh… that is terrifying. It sounds terrible. It's really not that bad. Why are you not writing this down? I just need a moment… It's really not that bad… I die all the time. I get sensory overload At Trader Joe's Look at the colors The clothes, This sure isn't queensborough Escalators for shopping carts I get it Manhattan I'll take my half BLVCK ass to the projects Where my kind are I don't belong here , God you're intolerant I like this part of town But I'm way too brown And I dropped my crown at the market I should be jealous of everyone But I have learned my place I've been a slave since Hollywood I lost my son to the devil Now I pay child support And terrorist follow me coughing I'm wrong just for being born ! You could start a war from it If that's what you wanted I'm a people watcher people watcher About to board the people mover People mover Slip, Here's the tell Slip, here's the tell I should have a bell around my neck I think she wanted a picture with papa I'm playin my own paparazzi Look mom, I bought a sacafagus There go them niggas with coughs again I been watching em Got binoculars I got oculus, for my oculars Look how hot he is, make me ovulate Man I gotta love it, Cause they love to hate Fucking racist crazies Have it your way I paid for it with my soul You hate but I love to love Somebody just got me fuckes up I don't have a book to run off of Shut up, honey. Now we're all up here Monkey in the middle Cause the middle one is weaker It's getting deeper and deeper Like the sinkhole that my sink is Let it sink in I've been syncing my secrets with demons In dreams sequences It's just a reparative injustice Kamasutra for your wondering words and stuff You can have it It's ruined anyway m Look at all this trash Look at all these classless classes Classwars, Racists. Everybody hates us The Asians, Latinx's The other niggas What being black is I'll write it in cursive It's just a curse, here So you can have it I'm moving to Heaven I'm packing my boxes I'm getting a cat, too! His name is Agustus He's a big one And I love him I just wanted a hug or a husband Instead I got nothing to trying my hardest And got for a bargain at target some coffee For being a targeted body All on an algorithm I guess I'm just useless. A dumb nigger demon Did I just offend you? Then you shouldn't be reading this either I wrote it for pleasure (Or pain) On the one Or the two Or the one Or the two I could do a lot with this $20. I could spend it all on Fuck all of you I'm moving to Heaven Where the heart it She's not harmless She's a terrorist— And I'll kill her, too Look how right she is Look how white she is, Huh Regardless of color It's a race war Lil biiiiitzzz Yooo, fuck New York. In every hole. In every crevice. Fuck this place. It's racist— Not just cause I'm black. Like statistically. It took a whole ass apartment elsesrch to feature this out. I was like “I wanna live in Manhattan” Everyone was like “NOOOOOOOO—-“ Haha “Nooo, no.” I was like “Why not?” The blacks were like: HAHA The whites were like— *COUGHS OBNOXIOUSLY* New York is so racist. It is statistically the most diverse—and most segregated city in the nation At the same time. WHAT. How do you even DO that? But it's true, at this point, the black people are like—fuck this, we'll just stay over here, and over here. And the rich whites are like YES. KEEP THAT SHIT, OVER THERE. Cause if you've ever been to the ghetto. It's some SHIT, It is NOT COOL. I finally got my ‘night card' back. Had it revoked in california . I was almost a whole valley girl. I still eat exclusively at Whole Foods. Trader Joe's. But NO. Now i live in the hood. It's fucking disgusting. I can say ‘nigga' again. Cause it's NIGGAS. Lots of niggas. I'm telling you. It's night and day! The white folks trains smell like bleach— Ammonia. The black folks train smell like a McDonald's. WHAT. Or just— Vomit. I can actually count the number of times just— Vomit—- On the train. Or. Dookie. Yes. Human feces. But I'm ready to go to midtown and it's like the train that goes around Disneyland. Families! People singing! Hey—cotton candy!! —and I didn't have to pick it! Haha! Fuck New York. Racist ass HOLE. I thought surely the next presidential election was one or two years out, but the racial tensions which had been rising became even more pronounced, as I realized that November was theboncoming time—and that they hostility between the whites and the blacks had once again been a result as the oncoming war, fueled onward—that the hatred, disgust, and general aggression of the whites had been of course, in the midsts of yet another Trump-fueled political upheaval, and I wondered why and how at all I had been caught in such a world that existed in form of man, of course, now proven himself to be the weaker sex, and yet in that of dominance, as was arranged in such an unholy war, to be the helm of power by sheer greed— now it seemed that these attacks were indeed political terrorism, and that these motorcyclists, my placement close to the ground level, and my neighbor's clammorings were specific attacks, after my identity had been varied to be that of the same in which I had once held political ambition, now none of which I assumed mattered at all. Perhaps I needed something more certain than a 12 story jump or suicide by train, and wondered as to whether it would be easy enough to kill myself bh self inflicted gunshot—a sure thing for certain, as love has been lost in the way of money at all. At that party…or rather, kind of—after. That acid that never hit Beyoncé I don't feel it. Man, I'm a terrible influence(r) Just take it. Nah, I'm good— PUSSY. -_- Give me three. K. —suddenly hits BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ …I got this. [BEYONCE] however, does not Ohh, shit. — “got this.” A very stranded, very sober Johnny depp stumbles upon what appears to be a college frat party, where the only thing they have is light beer, and nobody even recognizes him as a celebrity, because the attendees are all gen z What's even after gen z? The fucking apocalypse. Anyway. The acid hits Beyoncé on her way to make coffee, which extends the trip from the living room to the kitchen infinitely. Multidimensional Anne Hathaway hulks the fuck out and saves the day by ruining everything, which actually fixes everything— and *spoiler* helps Jesus to remain as the king of kings at beer pong. Lol In the late 90s in New York City, the keystone cast of Saturday night live learns of each other's formerly sexret psychic abilities, and uses the radio technologies of Rockefeller plaza to develop a research center for the telepathically gifted, eventually discovering and perfecting time travel. Supacree (the kid version) appears in and out of her ideal and desired realities, baffling ‘the Hollywood people' and later ‘the New York people', becoming the legendary central figure of the Illuminati, as the original timepiece — a pyramid shaped extra terrestrial vehicle which contains an ascended hyper conciousness, which I can't remember how it goes, did the supacree leave to find the Skrillex, or was it the other way around? I think it was both ways at some point, but the whole thing was this, just in case I never wrote it but just saw— These space god (humanoid evolved) are some kind of scientists/ doctors— there are four timepieces, each representing an era upon our planet; earth, which is distant but sacred— these four time pieces each depart their given “docs” in time to appear on earth at specific Fuck this is hard to explain Times in history, at which the first worlds, or previous human eras were known to have been destroyed— these time pieces travel through time space with the full record of these events in order to alert the current human era of its imminent doom, as an attempt to prevent such disasterous events, typically war, which will lead to the annihilation of the human species; these Gods, one male and one female, a king and queen, a married couple are the rules of the humankind, technically worshiped as a whole as one God, with whom the human design was modeled after, however, the true source of all things is the cosmos, known and unknown, in its totality—neither man or woman, but the force of creation. Anyway, what else is happening Oh. All of the celebrities are stuck in— [the festival project] in some way, shape, or form until its creator finishes it—and though it in itself is infinite, its 'finishing' notates its eventual production, which lol. That never going to happen. Because. Let's face it. I'm scared of …rich people. Yeah, sure. Yeah. I'm scared of The effect of the race war, which has been to pit the white woman against the black woman, which allows and maintains the continuation of war mongering male dominance over the entire planet, which remains as a destructive force of greed, racism, and inequality. So why try? [EDITS] CONAN O'BRIEN Alright. If she hit Fallon, she's gonna come for one of us next. No, Conan—that's not how this works. WHAT—where did you come from!? When did you get here? JAY LENO This goes deeper than all of you can understand. WHAT the FUCK, man! When did you-/ —when did he get here? How did you do that?! How did you do that?! What are you, like, the same guy? Are you not all the same guy? [they shrug simultaneously and kind of just agree] Listen at this. Okay then. The enemy of your friend is my enemy. Oh…kay—and the enemy of my enemy—is my friend— That is correct. —so we're all friends here. That's right. Some special forces? Which forces? How special? [JENNIFER LOPEZ is still JENNY FROM THE BLOCK] Do I look like a fool to you? Uh— OOPS [a pre-fame Jennifer Lopez receives a drop full of diamonds instead of the usual; she has been granted access into the Illuminati, and becomes an overnight success.] This feels heavier than usual. Same as always. Hm. Are you sure. Yep. Hey, you're not the regular guy. Regular guy died. That makes sense. JENNIFER ANNISTON is inside of Ū Okay, grosss Not like that [lifting max weight] Okay. That was cool. Wow. Yeah, sure whatever. I am strong Yeah yeah, okay. Are you sure you want to be my size? Yep. JIMMY FALLON/SKRILLEX (we don't know actually which at this point) is also trapped inside of Ū Okay, gross! Yeah. SKRILLEX is in all of Ū. okay—actually, i'm okay with that, but That other guy?! [JIMMY FALLON] Yeah, he's weird. Also meanwhile, kind of— MARSHALL MATHERS has a closet cleaning service lol. Patrick is smooth as a motherfucker, you know. Every time his head is down on the desk like that, he takes a bump of coke. What?! Big uh! [Patrick takes bumps of cocaine in front of a live studio audience—every single night.] Woah! See. Goddamn. You gotta admire a guy like that. Jennifer Anniston is the weight on the cable tension machine Ooh. Psycho bitch devious methods new ludachris commercial All ya'll girls is toddlers I like long boards and longhairs Lawn mowers and lawn shares Aw hell nah, God forgot Cher I got the Blair witch project On Blair, I hope I scare you How dare you. Your girl looks like a naked mole rat. I got my soul back. You blue eyed bastards stole everything From the whole blacks, Hold that thought I'm at Whole Foods market throw in the Amazon algorithm off With marked dollars Look at God at Walmart On them rollbacks You old hacks are cackling I'm shackled to old habits Hold hands with me, rabbit I'm just a silly rapper really, are you? Maybe. Cut the verse of Reverse God Now I'm the devil I'm still lost in the Amazon cart I sharted all up in your pop tarts Before you warmed them up, pops Just for the sake of the art, Heart to heart, It's a war on love And the white girls won with nothin but Buckets of Whatever's up there I wouldn't know Cause I'm stuck job searching And running, Trying not to have a tummy So some gummy worm will love me First their sour, then they're sweet Then nobody, Trolli Holy moly I could use some more petroleum in the ocean! Said nobody But the globalists are performing your programming Which you're worshiping I put my eye on the dollar So I could watch you all Crumble and fall Don't you know The apocalypse is happening at the mall Of all the places How's that for a stream of consciousness, You salamander I asked Anandar back But I went past that chapter Have a chap Or a chapstick, for four times four dollars A bottle of water will cost you a fortune (But at least the drugs are in it) Get it It's recycled piss Distilled? Which is it, Mr,? The mystery box was literally lifted into My dinner from a fishery filled with nothing but niggers in it— I want a refund, before I catch that Fucking curse of poverty from — what'd you call it salmonellahallibut One hell of a cough from someone on the sidewalk But guess what? The devil's in your pocket or your palm, And that's the omen and the psalm rolled into one Cause God is awesome, But my mom is fuckin toxic And that's how I fuckin got here Blow my head off, Slit my wrists And write a song While jumping off a bit When all you need is money, But the world costs more than It's worth, and words are nothing But another fucking problem in your Google documents I look at my son and see a God, But half of Satan's in him, Oh man Robotics Lets be honest, I don't even know how to write this. Where's my sides?! WHERE'S MY SIDES. You don't get SIDES with this; It's just CHICKEN. I don't eat CHICKEN. It appears as though, however– You do. Ok, I gotta get off this playlist. I… i gotta . “The Wal*Mart Wars” Hm. … …………. …. *face* … no. No. l– What is this place. {After a wild night which apparently spiraled out of control, great , there goes my peace. Not forever, though, maybe. FUCK THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE. Everybody hates this place. But the album is called “I love New York” Yes, thats Technically How it's pronounced, though It's stylized like I _ NY Cause. EXT. MIDTOWN MANHATTAN. DAY Oh, wow, this is beautiful. THis is great. I love this place FUCK THE FEDS. CUT TO: EXT.Typically WHEREVER ELSE Anywhere ‘above' like 87th? Lets just call it 80th, be safe. BE SAFE! NIGGAZ. ah shit, i gotta go. BITCH– But lets just be honest, It's technically ‘above' But it's really [THE BRONX is a literal extension of the Underworld] Oh no. srsly tho. X_c Anyway. FUck man, Do you think i'll ever get good like that. Idk what equipment is this Hmm, lets see, that's approximately $8,000 USD of CDJs wow yep That's retarded Yep. And you still need a mixer. fukt. OKay, I would literally sell my soul for this. Consider it done. wait , really? YES. you earned it. Wait, I– What?! You earned it… Uh oh. Take care now. Shit. [BILLIE ELLISH is trapped inside WALMART] Uh oh. Fuck. what is this place. INT. WALMART. WHENEVER EMPLOYEESLAVES WHAT TIME IS IT. THERE'S NO WINDOWS IN HERE. That's not funny IT'S literally a synonym, we might as well make it a portemantau MEanwhile, in this other dimension, So that i don't offend anybody… Actually, you know what? Be offended. Quit that stupid fuckin shit and follow your dreams! Wait really? Wait, really? Sure! If you want! …i guess. AMERICA NO. INSTANT HOMELESSNESS ok , nvm. Damn. I know, right. wtf r u guys watching. Shut up. All Wal*Mart Employees are actually top secret government agents. x ∞ >.< (we'll just use Billie Ellish as the alternate, but really it could be Could it really? Shut UP, PLURNICORN. Wtf is a PLURNICORN We'll see. [Upon Realizing s/he is trapped in a mysterious place apparently extremely public Wait, you've never been to a Wal*Mart Before?! NO. I grew up in LA Rich as fuck And i've been famous since I was liike 12, Or something. Right. That is–kind of terrifying. LATER: WHY IS IT SNOWING INSIDE. WHERE'S THE EXIT. THEY HAVE GUNS?! oh wow, they have GUNS. WHY DO WE NEED GUNS! KA-BLAM. BECAUSE THEY HAVE GUNS. Bang-bang! Ptttttttttt—sttt. And they have guns. Actually, these are just– confetti cannons. *pop!* Lol “Possibly The Worst Show Ever the infinite rave continues on in Hell as everyone awaits the return of SŪPACREE- The Cosmic Avenger (Who Is NOT a DJ) and Sunnï Blū (who is a superstar rapper but also not a DJ) go back to back, buying time as the beacon to. Signal "The Supacree" is completed, battling the 10th dimensional DJ Ū, a super ninjas, for control of the decks. what else happened? idk. I CANT STOP DANCING. none of the DJs can find a pair of working headphones, and the sound guy is missing from the booth. "missing" YOU SHOT HIM. I THOUGHT IT WAS A TRANQ DART. {Enter The Multiverse} “TVP” Hazel is 6, turns 7 season 1 Season 7- 15 Man, I can't remember the other two kids names, I think the little boy is Ira but I might have named them all and forgotten, shit. Her sister, though is between 4 ½ and 5, they are technically “Irish twins”, and always fighting—they look very similar, however are not at all alike; Hazel is very much a daddy's girl, while her younger sister is a no-nonsense old soul with the tendency to cause trouble, not by being inquisitive or showy, as her sister often is, but rather by being quietly observant, and tends to dismiss both her parents, often isolating, or even dissappearing without notice, quietly and comfortably into her own world—as the series progresses, and though all of Patrick's children like their parents have showcased some kind of special ability or talent— Holy shit, give this kid a name-/ I thought I already named her, I just don't remember. That's true. It seems like they all had names. She is almost very typically, though showing signs of genius, even at the early age at the beginning of the series, a middle child, prone to upset almost too easily, but rather than acting out, is more likely to take her anger quietly; she shares her fathers deep brown eyes, dark hair, and though she looks otherwise very much like her sister, and later despises her father, is more inwardly and outwardly like him, though taking the side of her mother during their separation and divorce, oftentimes even lashing out at her father quite openly, and very vocally, as she grows into herself. “Ira”, (may have had another name earlier) is the youngest of three— as his third birthday approaches sometime during the first season. Great, now I gotta hide all those allegories so nobody can actually draw from this that Patrick— Where's his write up, anyway? That shit could go on for days. I have no idea why this catharsis is happening. I tried to sleep it off, I swear, but I still woke up like— At least mildly obsessive about this, for whatever reason. Hazel's 7 - Season Arc Hazel has the eyes, charm, and charisma for entertainment —she hopes to one day be as her father, an entertainer and performer, and will do almost anything for a laugh. She is often telling jokes, and is a people- pleaser. She is sickeningly cute, with golden hair and Hazel eyes, long eye lashes, and carries baby fat in her face, though she is rather average, neither heavy or plump, and however also not frail at all. She is inquisitive, smart, and busy, almost never idle-minded, and strong. Though sort of a Tom boy, she has been trained well to act with dignity, class, and feminine eloquence, much like her mother—but like her father, has a tendency to be crass, sometimes carelessly so, or even brutally honest—to her mother's disdain, but embraced wholesomely by other family members and adults, she's extremely funny and delightful, and very much unlike her mother, not a spoiled brat at all, often raising questions beyond her years about inequality, later wishing to attend a public school, and becoming quite the advocate for social justice and human rights in her later years, her final season shows a rebellious and sometimes even antagonistic Hazel, who later even favors Esha over her own mother as a parental figure, often confiding in her about things she can't and shouldn't share with her father, although her almost over the top admiration for her father has become the driving force and inspiration for her own endeavors in show business, much to her father's disdain, as she grows older, him becoming more protective of her, and especially within the oftentimes secretive nature of his actual placement and purpose in the business, and her rebellious nature and charm even force-feeding her into the industry, she is a bleeding heart for superstardom, and is often seen along what may be a path to fame, making Patrick's bleeding heart all the more aching, as though he and Catherine remain at odds throughout the series, he truly loves his children, even “the little sick one”, as he refers to the second child. Holy shit, what is this kid's name If I had the energy to go through my notes, I could know; but I don't. The city sickness has been sinking in from the noise of the obnoxious motorists and honestly, being out of protein is giving me muscle soreness, I'm in some sort of a bloated haze from eating almost nothing but carbs, and the fact that I haven't been with anyone in years is starting to circle like buzzards around my head, my heart has been literally screaming but overwhelming with this sense of calm, and though slipping into Patrick's sometimes erratic tendencies, for the most part I've been underwhelmed with society's expectations that I should get some kind of job, and somehow while working not lose focus on my own interests and projects—I hate [the strange modern behaviors of] most people, and everything costs too much money— my son might be going into foster care, or my ex husband is evil enough just to try to force my energy to worry about a problem he's created, and I really wanted to sleep into the afternoon with this lethargy, hoping that everything surrounding this series would just fall off, but it doesn't. I wake up often wishing I could just forget The Festival Project ™ , but the truth is, it just keeps writing itself, but in the very least, sometimes God gives me little presents that mean the very most to me— a chord organ that I thought was from the 80's, but is more likely from the 1960's— I love vintage stuff, and musical instruments, which only God could know, really—my fascination with history as if I'm still living it, and this, my sudden fascination and drive to write and complete just one series has been haunting me almost just as badly as anything else has, but especially ripping me apart—especially since I have motorcyclists ripping through my body as if it were some kind of disease that existed outside of me, so contagious that it began to sink in to my insanity and mental hygiene. I wondered if anybody else knew or cared about these creatures as much as I didn't—and in fact, I had never felt so much like Ali in the way that I didn't care if they, other “human beings” supposedly, all died tragically, and wondered why the walls and windows didn't keep out the sound of the outside world at all… The middle child begins writing secretly very early on, and is the first to be required more extensive therapy, (as suggested by the family's therapist) after her parent's separation and subsequent divorce. It is not long after she begins learning to read and write at all, that she begins also showing interests in art, asking for art lessons and to begin painting and art therapy, rather than the recommended Equine therapy— she often keeps things to herself, then returning to her hidden places at times when the family's dysfunction becomes uncomfortable and overstimulating, very often paining or reading during times of peace, and retreating to her safe places—sometimes under the stairs, into the attic, the treehouse, or even later, the family's barnyard, where she often keeps drawings, as she ages, later comics, sometimes caricatures of the things she absorbs through her own reality—and diaries, sometimes hidden in nooks and crannies and in places no one would think; a true prodigy and genius, though hidden from much the world, as she is often overlooked, however, her therapist begins unfolding her true reality, often times carrying over sessions and losing track of time, picking her brain or even conversations philosophically What's the therapists name? Doctor Robin She has to have a last name Well, she's a child's therapist, so she's Doctor Robin, but It seems like it starts with a T. We'll see. I just saw her anyway. I drifted off again, thinking about how wildly detailed this all was becoming, and wondered if there was a series of fictional books waiting to be written. There certainly could be, but my mind was reeling, freshly showered but still undressed, and not even wanting to think of going outside—and yet—I was out of water, and had learned that the drinking water from the fountains, especially in large quantities, had a tendency to make me sick—I hadn't yet eaten anything, and though the coffee was fresh, and my apartment was clean (which made me overtly overjoyed for some reason) smelling of Lemon Lysol and Bleach; with notes of a strong pot of organic fresh ground coffee, it seemed like I couldn't do much more than lay in bed writing this catastrophically interesting series—and it was interesting, which said volumes, considering I had always been picky about my TV watching, being that only ever did certain series catch my eyes or my ears, and those series were almost always—or always, always specifically well written, perfectly casted, and had the edge and draw of becoming an entire world within itself, which this series, though only a week or two old at best, in my heart and in my mind , was rampantly ravaging my own world, almost as if it had become of some importance to keep writing it, and never stop, and though Patrick was the forefigure, another broken male protagonist, the truth in the series was that the true heroes of this sometimes scarily violent drama, were its women—a story meant to be told with a diversified cast of creatures from all worlds and walks of life—Esha, of course, herself, a role that had been some recreation of myself, somehow, though so different that even primarily, I never did see myself as her, besides the onslaught of some otherworldly pain, visions of a scene recollected from some remarkable download, and it might have been once and for all that I had lost my mind, or my life, if I wasn't a writer—I was, somehow, though, after all, a writer. It had been a fasting day that could have and might have ended tragically anyway, and still the devil marked his mockery of my efforts by consistently flinging perfect bodied women everywhere that I went—though usually with ugly enough faces that I could see nothing but what a man was—uncaring for one thing over the other, a flawless representation of woman, represented in the current time with scantily clad fashion, almost painfully so—the insecurity of women becoming more apparent in the way she would appear, always almost begging to be near to me, with every perfection and complexion I hadn't—but at least I had a tendency to laugh at my own damage, often surmising that she, these demon creatures, hadn't any talent for this at all—which had turned the state of television into a near circus act; that alone urged me to continue writing the series, perhaps with a typewriter, due to the negligence of nepotism within the industry which often resulted in these pretty little creatures getting even further ahead by stealing works as such, and passing them on as their own originality almost so cruelly and without judgement—plagiarism, as it was called, but more accurately intent-to-kill the imminent threat of what had been said to be a minority becoming a more powerful force to flourish in entertainment however, as quickly as the visions had come, the thought of writing it without my phone became dauntingly impractical, and I scribbled only the most intense scenes and plot lines onto notebooks and scratch papers, keeping them as hidden from the algorithm as possible… lol the Al Gore Rhythm Ahahahahahahaha Was that the joke? Maybe. Idk. Maybe. Idk. Hm. Hmmmmm: What: Nothing. That actually might have been it. Really, was it? I will never know. That is kind of a good dad joke, though. And a good band name. Idk about that. My coffee was lukewarm enough so that I could taste its flavor, as I whittled away at whatever it was— The story was almost so beautifully being told in allegories and parables that it seemed a shame I may never be rich enough to buy fame, as it seemed that was the only way to become a star these days— and yet—it was more the wealth than the fame I wanted, I had realized, at all—the polished class of the Manhattanites drawing me out of Brooklyn and into some debauchery which was my own Grandiose thought form, that I could actually become, at the ripe old age of 31, some kind of superstar. ‘Why would I even want that, anyway?' I thought, interrupted painfully by who I'm sure was the same motorist, who seemed to do nothing but circle the block all day, and all night, doing nothing — and I wondered why he himself had decided not to do grub hub in a richer neighborhood, where money would more than likely come more easily. But really— I drifted off to a time where I wanted to ride a motorcycle myself, and the curiosity forced me to go online to check the price of what it might cost to have one. $5,000 for a decent bike, which would include a muffler as not to be so obnoxious and disturbing to others as these creatures had become to me— and I began doing the math on how long it would take to save $5,000 as if it would be possible to work some dead end job for any amount of time without spending money on anything else. It would take at least 5 months to earn enough for a motorcycle, which landed me directly back at “Not worth it”, and as horrible as it was, I did at the very least have a luxury apartment for at minimum the next 5 years, however, wanting still to move to Manhattan, Midtown specifically—or one of the quaint and quiet neighborhoods on the upper West Side. The neighborhood was going to hell, after some unworldly godless force had seemed to drop hundreds of thousands of rude and thoughtless third world workers onto the streets and buildings bordering the one I lived on, the neighborhood becoming more rough and less peaceful with trash and debris from the depression and congenital disease that was poverty, the collective unconsciousness of the masses colliding with my empathetic nature and oversensitivity to sound, especially awful sounds, such as the hundreds of motorcycles and hot rodded junk cars which only seeemed to move in a track around a four block radius, and had become a cancerous trigger of sorts, no authority figure seemed to much care about. I cared less and less each day to listen to music, since I wasn't making it the way I wanted to—and I had realized that the constant displeasure and unrest, the lack of peace had as much to do with the world outside as it did with the world within—and I began to see the disgusting obnoxious noise pollution outside my window as just an extension of man's abuse, ability to rape, torture, and kill, terrorize— the uncaring waging of war, control, and lack of true power; as no good and true man who wielded actual strengeth or true power in any way would continue to show such distructive action and carelessness for others around him— chaos, corruption, abuse, and misogyny was proving to be the downfall of all humankind, as patronaged by man, and, as I became doubtful of anyone's lack of understanding of this, especially as the immigrants themselves were often naturally pedophillic culturally and toxically abusive in nature, most migrants flocking from countries in which women's liberation or the protection of youth had not yet materialized into their understanding of conciousness and morality—the men were weak, unkind, and selfish—the women mere machines at their disposal—and however many there were, I could see that their children, the many of them, remained as the redeeming factor. Anyway, a political ploy for the ages of there ever was such a thing, the newest chapter in American greed and slavery, it only seemed like an extension of evil itself, and less of a coincidence with each growing day—each new person, another burden to the middle class taxpayer, another reason to inflate the cost of living—and all the more reason to continue to terrorize the American people into its own division, hatred, demise, and consumption. e. My faith, however, was unwavering—God was real, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's —ahem— “Ron Sennet, and I ain't In it.” —did the say “don't” write a book about me? It's Not about him… Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's Jon Sennet, and I ain't In it.” Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear as soon as I had made the call, which infuriated me. It seemed as though the game in entirety to make me look or feel crazy, though I knew I wasn't—well, I was, but not without purpose or reason. I had been theorizing in energy exchange quite decisively making a mark for my alter, at which I asked to be designated the wisdom and truth of the light within the eye, desire, however never in mind, although I had been summoned in part due to the fact that wenwere somehow alike—I was in some ways besides and out of sorts with my set, sinking my teeth into the forced obsession as I unraveled any possibilities and plotline. Episode 01. Pilot An opportunity presents itself seemingly at random— the protagonist's hand is forced into a life changing ultimatum, putting his reuputation and family in danger. Already involved in an illegal gambling ring which operates out of a secret historical prohibition era speakeasy and some “light” drug mulling within its walls, however often extending even as dangerously close to his workplace, Patrick is propositioned to become an investor in the high end escort service, with which he hired and contracted his lover, Kandi, a “rescue” whom he supports in her exchange for exclusivity, to remain as her only client, however, although he begrudgingly declines, wishing not to be involved in anything much more than what he has already kept under the radar, he is intimidated and threatened by blackmail, his high profile becoming at stake—he then obliges to embark upon this new endeavor, the expansion of this establishment to include a warehouse, which houses a large scale brothel, and, able to use his social status to procure wealthy clientele, quickly becomes a power player within a ring of coveted elites, setting fire to his already inflated ego, and colliding with his intense and highly functional polyaddiction, which he has maintained since his youth, using his entertainment persona as an outlet, becoming a medium of excess, fame, and rampant wealth. Patrick is beloved by his peers, and is humbled often by his devoted fans and friends—proactively worshipped as a comic genius, a prodigy, and a revered successor to legendary frontmen— Okay, this is weird, because I started writing this before I even understood what I was writing at all… —specifically, the sixth successor, to his coveted role. I had written for Esha to be the seventh successor, as with the symbolism deeply and quite literally woven into the sometimes brutal framework of the series, which I had shorthanded to ‘TVP'…the world around me trailed off as my eyes blurred as they had been lately, and I wondered if I might be having some kind of stroke or something, as I was certainly some sort of out of body—the day had been strange, and I had given up on a run or a gym for the day, the motorcycles alone ravaging my energy, and whether I worked out or not, they were everpresent anyway. They were some sort of toxic, abusive force I just had to put up with, hoping it didn't upset my psychology so much that it ended me, though I had become quite odd as of recently, rambling more than usual and actually praying out loud, as my silent ones just didn't seem to be working—they were probably white supremacists, or in some way connected to some political terror group, but it didn't seem to matter. Someone liked torturing me, and it was becoming apparent that no matter much time I spent at the gym, this torture was going to persist. After a month long gym streak, at least going once a day to lift something, I rested, or rather, tried to rest, kind of— but my mind had been swirling with thoughts of a man I was certain by now I had made up—and writing the story of a man I was absolutely certain came from my mind, but in a way that it almost made no sense at all—as the more I looked into the world that I had already written about, the more I realized was accurate without first having known these things, and however cursed I might have been to even know such things, I decided to call it some sort of blessing instead. ‘God, I used to get so fucking high for days, and when I would come down, just crying and crying, eating Totinos or DiJorno and a bag of Bugles, I would watch Saturday Night Live for fucking hours, and I hated [Redacted]. I hated him.' Now I still hated [Redacted], but in a different way, and though really it was myself that was more like Patrick, he at the very least, for whatever reason, used to have his face—now, he was just Patrick, and [Redacted] was just [Redacted], and i knew entirely too much about it all, and about myself to be comfortable with it, but nothing was comfortable at all. I had written entire atrocities, novels, and all that was some conglomerate of nonsense which was the festival project, besides how insanely and innately prodigal it all was sometimes, my own words confusing me with a bizzare and asenine dysfunction, awe, actually, often as if someone else had written them, and although I was always at least sort of semi-concious while writing, the spells and cadences I would fall under were some sort of trance, and as I watched the Nirvana rehearsal from Saturday Night Live in 1992, long before [Redacted] or any of the rest of the — Was it Keystone? It was, the Keystone cast of SNL, but the first word my mind had jumped to was Hallmark, which—after referencing Google quickly for a fact check, also stood true. I was willing to admit, even now, though I had long lost interest in Saturday Nighy Live, or anything at all having to do with current events, that the [Redacted] era—or rather even, the Tina Fey era, a true role model, perhaps, and someone I favored over all of the performers I admired, or allowed myself to admire— the Golden Years of Saturday Night were the only years, for me that even mattered— trying to make sense of anything couldn't be done, but I at least had this new project birthed from it to think about. It would be hard to sit down at a taping of The View and not think about all I had written at all, and it would be impossible not to unfold the characters which had presented themselves, though slowly but surely, through the most vivid visions and insanely lucid dreams, as The TV People began to What if someone steals this out of my documents? That would be unwise…the best scenes are somewhere scribbled in my notebooks and random scraps of paper somewhere in my room…this series is almost nothing without those scenes—the elements with which the most painful scenes I had ever written, became word form. ‘I don't know why, but I feel so i

HALLE BERRY is that how you spell it It is for now. Fuck going online “That ain't part of my day” Shut up Drake, not now. You'll thank me later “If You're Reading This, It's Too Late” [HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award-- Which one's her favorite? CUT TO: BEFORE HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.] —I like this guy. The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process. Come on! This guy! AGAIN!? UGH. CUT BACK TO: [HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ] WHAT THE—COME ON I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE. (I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode Or without cell service at all) wtf my phone is ringing. That's weird. You don't even— —I don't even have a phone. Right. (Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.) The fuck. [it's JIMMY FALLON] Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever. Like fucking ever. Always shows up at the worst —THE WORST MOMENT. [HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again] WHAT THE— [She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until— [JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.] (Calmly, kind of) Hey, WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I called first! I KNOW THAT— Went to voicemail. YOU SHOULDNT BE HERE. Just—calm down. NO. Look. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically. —yeah, but your FACE is in my house— —I hear that's the best part. —What?! Listen— Get out— No, look, listen— I need to borrow your Oscar. What?! For what?! That's not important. Oh really?! Yeah. It seems important. It's not that important Just—- What! Give it to me! [He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.] Just—trade me. What! What for?! Just—trust me— I do not— Just trust me—! WHAT! Congratulations. As you were. Kind of. WHAT—JIMMY— [She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing] —he was my favorite… [SUDDENLY, though the other window Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate? For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside. Fans are weird. CUT TO: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE YOU. CUT TO: What's this place. It's my house, Where are the windows? They don't exist. CUT BACK TO [DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.] YO. WHAT THE FUCK! Chill, Halle Berry. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I'm the guy who wrote this. You should have called first! Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?! NO. I LIKE HIS face. Huh. Is that what it is… I GUESS I DONT KNOW. —who are YOU—?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE— I am not in, technically— I DONT CARE! Ooh— Is that a Grammy award?! I didn't know you had a Grammy! Gimmie! [he snatches the Grammy] HEY! Is—what is this, for COMEDY?! FOR COMEDY?! WHY WASNT I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?! I DONT KNOW, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK. It's not important. What. Anyway, thanks. Toodeloo. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature keurig, a status symbol, of course, looked handsom on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Freebreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenetire intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that i wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more of putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with Fallon—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep inside me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viwingbspace, an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my masked. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and bryknnd: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mistress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the car would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in in struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packaged and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. https://linktr.ee/codenameblu {Now You See Me} From Google: Charismatic magician Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg) leads a team of talented illusionists called the Four Horsemen. Atlas and his comrades mesmerize audiences with a pair of amazing magic shows that drain the bank accounts of the corrupt and funnel the money to audience members. A federal agent (Mark Ruffalo) and an Interpol detective (Mélanie Laurent) intend to rein in the Horsemen before their next caper, and they turn to Thaddeus (Morgan Freeman), a famous debunker, for help. No, not the google documents! GET IN THE HOLE. Hm. What. Blood Shower All along the watch tower Do you feel good? Do you? Do you feel bad about this. I do. I feel bad about this. I forgot to tell you– I should probably let you know that I just want to MAN, FUCK THIS DUDE. MA. WAHT. IT'S ON. WHAt. THE SHOW IS ON. THEWHAT. THE– *suddenly self aware* …I gotta get out of Boston. What, first this was about war, now it's about bird people? It's about a war WITH the bird people. I should sleep. Hahaha. No. This isn't funny anymore. At least it's over. MA– Oh, it's far from over. Yo, i'm going through some crazy shit right now. Spur of the moment I'd never thought of it; This is gonna take forever. I don't have the patience To even write this I just want french fries right now But been up for two days with no gym and I'm on a diet. GUAC TIME. No, no burritos. GUAC TIME. Oh shit, this is getting real as fuck . NOw i see it three ways. I love it. I hate it. HEY, LET ME OUT. GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, SKRILLEX. I'M DILLON FRANCIS. IN THE HOLE. Check it out. Huh. It's another DJ. *agrees* Should we pick him up. WEll, the good news is: I found your friend. Oh, that's good. The bad news is: He's dead. Oh, that–'s … nice. Yeah. It is. Uh. Kaskade. Yeah. We gotta find Ryan. Why. What's up? You're freaking me out. Why. What's up. Nothing IS it my eyes? I– *wild ass eyes* Yeah, it's probably that. Fuck dude, what did you do to deadmau5. NOTHIN. He's not the same. What the fuck is that. Holy shit I jus timejumped Where the fuck are you going. How the fuck could this happen?! It COULDN'T. Well, that's it then. *shrugs* Well, I guess we're just gonna have to go dig up Dillon Francis. I guess so. Do you think he's still alive. Like, probably not– Maybe… No, probably not @prodbywar& @Halmadeit This amazon order took me nine hours Alexa, I think i should fire her Like a arm I don't leave at night without armor Don't make me a martyr Your mom will be proud of us all If i make it outta here And i'll look after her Got the whole block coming up on my heels as I walk Wtf is it… Idk dude. Is it speeding up? I…i think so. There's no way this is 140 IT's 140. It's 140 . There's no way. Yes way. Nah huh. Let me see. No. Let me at the decks. Let me at the decks. NO. YO LET ME AT THE DECKS. You want deks. Yes. I got deks. Really. yeus . I never listened to it like this In ableton I read serato, synesthesia and rekordbox I talk a lot, I'm like a human music box I walk a lot I run my mouth a mile a minute (faster than i run around the track reciting rap words) Like they're passwords. Oh, I could do this forever.. I wish i had i microphone right now And was all alone With the lights off Lying on the floor I'd be lying if i said I could afford you Just to fornicate But may consider playing with a foreigner If you're all for her I'm unnerved, you know Cause i've been up so long My monster likes to play with boys and Make the bass go down below where Nobody does anymore Once I get a hold of things Or the hang of it You've got another hot ones on your hands I've another record under my belt Or in my roster, Whatever you'd call it But now I've got no time to bark about Wanting a dog and a daughter But none of the responsibility or Going through all the trouble to find her a father I'm still holding a fart in. Reaally–cause–it's been a really long time. WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME, JIMMY FALLON?? Um a lot! You literally just saw me make the journey all the way up from nothing. I am nothing EXACTLY. I don't have time to fight with you Jiimmy Fallon. I did NOT write these games by myself you know?! Um, excuse me– “GAMES” ?! YES, GAMES. Uh, I've only got one game with you in it, my friend. Is that so! One game that I've written with the Great–formerly LATE Jimmy Fallon. Is that like a play on words cause i'm on late night TV YOu'RE ON ALL THE TIME TV, JIMMY. NBC SHIT IS PRACTICALLY AUTOMATICALLY SYNDICATED. -_- …are you alright. –_-_-__-_ Hold on, I think i've got it Nice, I found a growler. yOu still haven't got all the monsters and sprites Ive got all the big ones, but the little ones are harder to catch. GrO0Wl3rrr. Aww. He's so ugly. Yeah, but cute, though, right. I don't think so. Gro)WwlErrrrrrrrr. Aww. That's so fucking gross. lol . so what does this thing look like. Well, that't the thing about the monsters and sprites. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. It's alright, it's alright–he's nice. WHAT. THAT'S A SPRITE. No, it's a monster. He's just scary. SUPACREE. David Bowie. What up. God, it took me ages to find you. Tell me about it. I'm still trying. We've been expecting you for a long time. You were expecting I'd die? Yes. So when she says she's “married to the music…” I'm married to the music. Oh, so. Yo, honestly if you een want to talk to this bitch, you'd better have like a musical instrument, or a mic in your hands, Otherwise– No, getawayfrom me. It's not even worth it. HI. –No. What's up? Tempo. SUNNI Cotour From the store I was poor Now i'm honorable In velour, Glamour (Snap) Forsure, Jesus Christs is making appearances in my abletons I'm not able to comprehend or understand exactly the message, But the evidence sire is mounting Get it Reached the temple, More of a sanctuary, Is that sacrilegious I guess it is, I'm stressed as ever Trying to get it together {Enter The Multiverse} Now I know too well, The well of tears on my guitar She's got a body like one Oh her curves But I just wonder what it like to be loved By stars Socialites and superstars They're Gods, you know How high up they are Above us And he lives in an ascended dimension, But he insists, he says Her transcendence is upon us He said Your transcendence is upon us He says these things, And then just vanishes So she gets up promptly Warms up yesterday's coffee Looks around in her coffin And wonders What for I just Wonder what it's like to be loved by stars Without double r's, you know I've got scars But it's mostly just Teardrops, and soft kisses On my guitar Cause, oh, Oli, I ain't got nobody— And nobody holds me Like I hold Oli (Could have been Ali, But of course— I had already lost that one A whole well of tears, I lost At his departure And a whole well more When I actually lost him I almost miss Having someone to talk to About anything and everything But I've got Oli And God now I've got Oli And Oli (oli) Is all that I've got Besides God That's the only contact In my Phone book No more double Ls And double entendres; No more double rs At all Just scars now No more metaphors. Honest is radical I like them cynical I should have clinical insanity by now But I'm only just an artist You can't help But can only harm that And if it hurts hard enough I'll put art on my walls Become permanent Storybooks all over my arms now My coat of arms now I've run Ten point 5 miles In the last 3 days; But if I rest today Will a motorcycle gang Have a parade outside of my window, To drive me crazy? I hope it rains, So they can't play these games with my head And the seeds that I planted So deep become daisies I still don't remember The way he rearranged me But these days I make my name sound So the way He can never say it Just imitates The way I hate myself I should be dating But expressions are Atrocious If I fall asleep— Who knows I may get Stolen That tends to happen So I'm All the way up And I'm swollen in ways That I hate to say “I love you” Love me back Or say it harder That's my martyrdom Come off the cross, for a moment, Would you for us? And bend over Or bow, if you will? If I did, Would you still call me wicked Or just a Good witch Since I'm a woman, I just couldn't be Jesus, Who you asked for once And always Who you asked for some To save you from your Credit reports And consorts Or some sort of Nonsense [famous last words] God don't speak much English, She says God don't speak much these days We were Always Telepathic That was way back then When Oedipus Rex Was on the Guest list I was standing at the coat check, asking Why I must take off my hat When entering the service To the bouncer, he says “That's just politics” I said, That's just politics We both said, What's the difference Then we all laughed —then we all just laughed and laughed Exchange is my favorite exchange Where my favorite exchanges Have happened for centuries Of engagements Endeared species, And races pieces haven't tasted the same Since I haven't had them Animal products And animal planet I found this hat on Discovery channel Did you want it? I can't stand it So I had to have it back I just had to use the bathroom I just had to disconnect From [] See— I don't even have to put the words in Cause a name is just words When that's a man You just can't have And that's the worse When that's a man And you can't have him What a habit. Silky rabbit. Now he's the Ace. All In A Day's Work I've never died before. Oh… that is terrifying. It sounds terrible. It's really not that bad. Why are you not writing this down? I just need a moment… It's really not that bad… I die all the time. I get sensory overload At Trader Joe's Look at the colors The clothes, This sure isn't queensborough Escalators for shopping carts I get it Manhattan I'll take my half BLVCK ass to the projects Where my kind are I don't belong here , God you're intolerant I like this part of town But I'm way too brown And I dropped my crown at the market I should be jealous of everyone But I have learned my place I've been a slave since Hollywood I lost my son to the devil Now I pay child support And terrorist follow me coughing I'm wrong just for being born ! You could start a war from it If that's what you wanted I'm a people watcher people watcher About to board the people mover People mover Slip, Here's the tell Slip, here's the tell I should have a bell around my neck I think she wanted a picture with papa I'm playin my own paparazzi Look mom, I bought a sacafagus There go them niggas with coughs again I been watching em Got binoculars I got oculus, for my oculars Look how hot he is, make me ovulate Man I gotta love it, Cause they love to hate Fucking racist crazies Have it your way I paid for it with my soul You hate but I love to love Somebody just got me fuckes up I don't have a book to run off of Shut up, honey. Now we're all up here Monkey in the middle Cause the middle one is weaker It's getting deeper and deeper Like the sinkhole that my sink is Let it sink in I've been syncing my secrets with demons In dreams sequences It's just a reparative injustice Kamasutra for your wondering words and stuff You can have it It's ruined anyway m Look at all this trash Look at all these classless classes Classwars, Racists. Everybody hates us The Asians, Latinx's The other niggas What being black is I'll write it in cursive It's just a curse, here So you can have it I'm moving to Heaven I'm packing my boxes I'm getting a cat, too! His name is Agustus He's a big one And I love him I just wanted a hug or a husband Instead I got nothing to trying my hardest And got for a bargain at target some coffee For being a targeted body All on an algorithm I guess I'm just useless. A dumb nigger demon Did I just offend you? Then you shouldn't be reading this either I wrote it for pleasure (Or pain) On the one Or the two Or the one Or the two I could do a lot with this $20. I could spend it all on Fuck all of you I'm moving to Heaven Where the heart it She's not harmless She's a terrorist— And I'll kill her, too Look how right she is Look how white she is, Huh Regardless of color It's a race war Lil biiiiitzzz Yooo, fuck New York. In every hole. In every crevice. Fuck this place. It's racist— Not just cause I'm black. Like statistically. It took a whole ass apartment elsesrch to feature this out. I was like “I wanna live in Manhattan” Everyone was like “NOOOOOOOO—-“ Haha “Nooo, no.” I was like “Why not?” The blacks were like: HAHA The whites were like— *COUGHS OBNOXIOUSLY* New York is so racist. It is statistically the most diverse—and most segregated city in the nation At the same time. WHAT. How do you even DO that? But it's true, at this point, the black people are like—fuck this, we'll just stay over here, and over here. And the rich whites are like YES. KEEP THAT SHIT, OVER THERE. Cause if you've ever been to the ghetto. It's some SHIT, It is NOT COOL. I finally got my ‘night card' back. Had it revoked in california . I was almost a whole valley girl. I still eat exclusively at Whole Foods. Trader Joe's. But NO. Now i live in the hood. It's fucking disgusting. I can say ‘nigga' again. Cause it's NIGGAS. Lots of niggas. I'm telling you. It's night and day! The white folks trains smell like bleach— Ammonia. The black folks train smell like a McDonald's. WHAT. Or just— Vomit. I can actually count the number of times just— Vomit—- On the train. Or. Dookie. Yes. Human feces. But I'm ready to go to midtown and it's like the train that goes around Disneyland. Families! People singing! Hey—cotton candy!! —and I didn't have to pick it! Haha! Fuck New York. Racist ass HOLE. I thought surely the next presidential election was one or two years out, but the racial tensions which had been rising became even more pronounced, as I realized that November was theboncoming time—and that they hostility between the whites and the blacks had once again been a result as the oncoming war, fueled onward—that the hatred, disgust, and general aggression of the whites had been of course, in the midsts of yet another Trump-fueled political upheaval, and I wondered why and how at all I had been caught in such a world that existed in form of man, of course, now proven himself to be the weaker sex, and yet in that of dominance, as was arranged in such an unholy war, to be the helm of power by sheer greed— now it seemed that these attacks were indeed political terrorism, and that these motorcyclists, my placement close to the ground level, and my neighbor's clammorings were specific attacks, after my identity had been varied to be that of the same in which I had once held political ambition, now none of which I assumed mattered at all. Perhaps I needed something more certain than a 12 story jump or suicide by train, and wondered as to whether it would be easy enough to kill myself bh self inflicted gunshot—a sure thing for certain, as love has been lost in the way of money at all. At that party…or rather, kind of—after. That acid that never hit Beyoncé I don't feel it. Man, I'm a terrible influence(r) Just take it. Nah, I'm good— PUSSY. -_- Give me three. K. —suddenly hits BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ …I got this. [BEYONCE] however, does not Ohh, shit. — “got this.” A very stranded, very sober Johnny depp stumbles upon what appears to be a college frat party, where the only thing they have is light beer, and nobody even recognizes him as a celebrity, because the attendees are all gen z What's even after gen z? The fucking apocalypse. Anyway. The acid hits Beyoncé on her way to make coffee, which extends the trip from the living room to the kitchen infinitely. Multidimensional Anne Hathaway hulks the fuck out and saves the day by ruining everything, which actually fixes everything— and *spoiler* helps Jesus to remain as the king of kings at beer pong. Lol In the late 90s in New York City, the keystone cast of Saturday night live learns of each other's formerly sexret psychic abilities, and uses the radio technologies of Rockefeller plaza to develop a research center for the telepathically gifted, eventually discovering and perfecting time travel. Supacree (the kid version) appears in and out of her ideal and desired realities, baffling ‘the Hollywood people' and later ‘the New York people', becoming the legendary central figure of the Illuminati, as the original timepiece — a pyramid shaped extra terrestrial vehicle which contains an ascended hyper conciousness, which I can't remember how it goes, did the supacree leave to find the Skrillex, or was it the other way around? I think it was both ways at some point, but the whole thing was this, just in case I never wrote it but just saw— These space god (humanoid evolved) are some kind of scientists/ doctors— there are four timepieces, each representing an era upon our planet; earth, which is distant but sacred— these four time pieces each depart their given “docs” in time to appear on earth at specific Fuck this is hard to explain Times in history, at which the first worlds, or previous human eras were known to have been destroyed— these time pieces travel through time space with the full record of these events in order to alert the current human era of its imminent doom, as an attempt to prevent such disasterous events, typically war, which will lead to the annihilation of the human species; these Gods, one male and one female, a king and queen, a married couple are the rules of the humankind, technically worshiped as a whole as one God, with whom the human design was modeled after, however, the true source of all things is the cosmos, known and unknown, in its totality—neither man or woman, but the force of creation. Anyway, what else is happening Oh. All of the celebrities are stuck in— [the festival project] in some way, shape, or form until its creator finishes it—and though it in itself is infinite, its 'finishing' notates its eventual production, which lol. That never going to happen. Because. Let's face it. I'm scared of …rich people. Yeah, sure. Yeah. I'm scared of The effect of the race war, which has been to pit the white woman against the black woman, which allows and maintains the continuation of war mongering male dominance over the entire planet, which remains as a destructive force of greed, racism, and inequality. So why try? [EDITS] CONAN O'BRIEN Alright. If she hit Fallon, she's gonna come for one of us next. No, Conan—that's not how this works. WHAT—where did you come from!? When did you get here? JAY LENO This goes deeper than all of you can understand. WHAT the FUCK, man! When did you-/ —when did he get here? How did you do that?! How did you do that?! What are you, like, the same guy? Are you not all the same guy? [they shrug simultaneously and kind of just agree] Listen at this. Okay then. The enemy of your friend is my enemy. Oh…kay—and the enemy of my enemy—is my friend— That is correct. —so we're all friends here. That's right. Some special forces? Which forces? How special? [JENNIFER LOPEZ is still JENNY FROM THE BLOCK] Do I look like a fool to you? Uh— OOPS [a pre-fame Jennifer Lopez receives a drop full of diamonds instead of the usual; she has been granted access into the Illuminati, and becomes an overnight success.] This feels heavier than usual. Same as always. Hm. Are you sure. Yep. Hey, you're not the regular guy. Regular guy died. That makes sense. JENNIFER ANNISTON is inside of Ū Okay, grosss Not like that [lifting max weight] Okay. That was cool. Wow. Yeah, sure whatever. I am strong Yeah yeah, okay. Are you sure you want to be my size? Yep. JIMMY FALLON/SKRILLEX (we don't know actually which at this point) is also trapped inside of Ū Okay, gross! Yeah. SKRILLEX is in all of Ū. okay—actually, i'm okay with that, but That other guy?! [JIMMY FALLON] Yeah, he's weird. Also meanwhile, kind of— MARSHALL MATHERS has a closet cleaning service lol. Patrick is smooth as a motherfucker, you know. Every time his head is down on the desk like that, he takes a bump of coke. What?! Big uh! [Patrick takes bumps of cocaine in front of a live studio audience—every single night.] Woah! See. Goddamn. You gotta admire a guy like that. Jennifer Anniston is the weight on the cable tension machine Ooh. Psycho bitch devious methods new ludachris commercial All ya'll girls is toddlers I like long boards and longhairs Lawn mowers and lawn shares Aw hell nah, God forgot Cher I got the Blair witch project On Blair, I hope I scare you How dare you. Your girl looks like a naked mole rat. I got my soul back. You blue eyed bastards stole everything From the whole blacks, Hold that thought I'm at Whole Foods market throw in the Amazon algorithm off With marked dollars Look at God at Walmart On them rollbacks You old hacks are cackling I'm shackled to old habits Hold hands with me, rabbit I'm just a silly rapper really, are you? Maybe. Cut the verse of Reverse God Now I'm the devil I'm still lost in the Amazon cart I sharted all up in your pop tarts Before you warmed them up, pops Just for the sake of the art, Heart to heart, It's a war on love And the white girls won with nothin but Buckets of Whatever's up there I wouldn't know Cause I'm stuck job searching And running, Trying not to have a tummy So some gummy worm will love me First their sour, then they're sweet Then nobody, Trolli Holy moly I could use some more petroleum in the ocean! Said nobody But the globalists are performing your programming Which you're worshiping I put my eye on the dollar So I could watch you all Crumble and fall Don't you know The apocalypse is happening at the mall Of all the places How's that for a stream of consciousness, You salamander I asked Anandar back But I went past that chapter Have a chap Or a chapstick, for four times four dollars A bottle of water will cost you a fortune (But at least the drugs are in it) Get it It's recycled piss Distilled? Which is it, Mr,? The mystery box was literally lifted into My dinner from a fishery filled with nothing but niggers in it— I want a refund, before I catch that Fucking curse of poverty from — what'd you call it salmonellahallibut One hell of a cough from someone on the sidewalk But guess what? The devil's in your pocket or your palm, And that's the omen and the psalm rolled into one Cause God is awesome, But my mom is fuckin toxic And that's how I fuckin got here Blow my head off, Slit my wrists And write a song While jumping off a bit When all you need is money, But the world costs more than It's worth, and words are nothing But another fucking problem in your Google documents I look at my son and see a God, But half of Satan's in him, Oh man Robotics Lets be honest, I don't even know how to write this. Where's my sides?! WHERE'S MY SIDES. You don't get SIDES with this; It's just CHICKEN. I don't eat CHICKEN. It appears as though, however– You do. Ok, I gotta get off this playlist. I… i gotta . “The Wal*Mart Wars” Hm. … …………. …. *face* … no. No. l– What is this place. {After a wild night which apparently spiraled out of control, great , there goes my peace. Not forever, though, maybe. FUCK THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE. Everybody hates this place. But the album is called “I love New York” Yes, thats Technically How it's pronounced, though It's stylized like I _ NY Cause. EXT. MIDTOWN MANHATTAN. DAY Oh, wow, this is beautiful. THis is great. I love this place FUCK THE FEDS. CUT TO: EXT.Typically WHEREVER ELSE Anywhere ‘above' like 87th? Lets just call it 80th, be safe. BE SAFE! NIGGAZ. ah shit, i gotta go. BITCH– But lets just be honest, It's technically ‘above' But it's really [THE BRONX is a literal extension of the Underworld] Oh no. srsly tho. X_c Anyway. FUck man, Do you think i'll ever get good like that. Idk what equipment is this Hmm, lets see, that's approximately $8,000 USD of CDJs wow yep That's retarded Yep. And you still need a mixer. fukt. OKay, I would literally sell my soul for this. Consider it done. wait , really? YES. you earned it. Wait, I– What?! You earned it… Uh oh. Take care now. Shit. [BILLIE ELLISH is trapped inside WALMART] Uh oh. Fuck. what is this place. INT. WALMART. WHENEVER EMPLOYEESLAVES WHAT TIME IS IT. THERE'S NO WINDOWS IN HERE. That's not funny IT'S literally a synonym, we might as well make it a portemantau MEanwhile, in this other dimension, So that i don't offend anybody… Actually, you know what? Be offended. Quit that stupid fuckin shit and follow your dreams! Wait really? Wait, really? Sure! If you want! …i guess. AMERICA NO. INSTANT HOMELESSNESS ok , nvm. Damn. I know, right. wtf r u guys watching. Shut up. All Wal*Mart Employees are actually top secret government agents. x ∞ >.< (we'll just use Billie Ellish as the alternate, but really it could be Could it really? Shut UP, PLURNICORN. Wtf is a PLURNICORN We'll see. [Upon Realizing s/he is trapped in a mysterious place apparently extremely public Wait, you've never been to a Wal*Mart Before?! NO. I grew up in LA Rich as fuck And i've been famous since I was liike 12, Or something. Right. That is–kind of terrifying. LATER: WHY IS IT SNOWING INSIDE. WHERE'S THE EXIT. THEY HAVE GUNS?! oh wow, they have GUNS. WHY DO WE NEED GUNS! KA-BLAM. BECAUSE THEY HAVE GUNS. Bang-bang! Ptttttttttt—sttt. And they have guns. Actually, these are just– confetti cannons. *pop!* Lol “Possibly The Worst Show Ever the infinite rave continues on in Hell as everyone awaits the return of SŪPACREE- The Cosmic Avenger (Who Is NOT a DJ) and Sunnï Blū (who is a superstar rapper but also not a DJ) go back to back, buying time as the beacon to. Signal "The Supacree" is completed, battling the 10th dimensional DJ Ū, a super ninjas, for control of the decks. what else happened? idk. I CANT STOP DANCING. none of the DJs can find a pair of working headphones, and the sound guy is missing from the booth. "missing" YOU SHOT HIM. I THOUGHT IT WAS A TRANQ DART. {Enter The Multiverse} “TVP” Hazel is 6, turns 7 season 1 Season 7- 15 Man, I can't remember the other two kids names, I think the little boy is Ira but I might have named them all and forgotten, shit. Her sister, though is between 4 ½ and 5, they are technically “Irish twins”, and always fighting—they look very similar, however are not at all alike; Hazel is very much a daddy's girl, while her younger sister is a no-nonsense old soul with the tendency to cause trouble, not by being inquisitive or showy, as her sister often is, but rather by being quietly observant, and tends to dismiss both her parents, often isolating, or even dissappearing without notice, quietly and comfortably into her own world—as the series progresses, and though all of Patrick's children like their parents have showcased some kind of special ability or talent— Holy shit, give this kid a name-/ I thought I already named her, I just don't remember. That's true. It seems like they all had names. She is almost very typically, though showing signs of genius, even at the early age at the beginning of the series, a middle child, prone to upset almost too easily, but rather than acting out, is more likely to take her anger quietly; she shares her fathers deep brown eyes, dark hair, and though she looks otherwise very much like her sister, and later despises her father, is more inwardly and outwardly like him, though taking the side of her mother during their separation and divorce, oftentimes even lashing out at her father quite openly, and very vocally, as she grows into herself. “Ira”, (may have had another name earlier) is the youngest of three— as his third birthday approaches sometime during the first season. Great, now I gotta hide all those allegories so nobody can actually draw from this that Patrick— Where's his write up, anyway? That shit could go on for days. I have no idea why this catharsis is happening. I tried to sleep it off, I swear, but I still woke up like— At least mildly obsessive about this, for whatever reason. Hazel's 7 - Season Arc Hazel has the eyes, charm, and charisma for entertainment —she hopes to one day be as her father, an entertainer and performer, and will do almost anything for a laugh. She is often telling jokes, and is a people- pleaser. She is sickeningly cute, with golden hair and Hazel eyes, long eye lashes, and carries baby fat in her face, though she is rather average, neither heavy or plump, and however also not frail at all. She is inquisitive, smart, and busy, almost never idle-minded, and strong. Though sort of a Tom boy, she has been trained well to act with dignity, class, and feminine eloquence, much like her mother—but like her father, has a tendency to be crass, sometimes carelessly so, or even brutally honest—to her mother's disdain, but embraced wholesomely by other family members and adults, she's extremely funny and delightful, and very much unlike her mother, not a spoiled brat at all, often raising questions beyond her years about inequality, later wishing to attend a public school, and becoming quite the advocate for social justice and human rights in her later years, her final season shows a rebellious and sometimes even antagonistic Hazel, who later even favors Esha over her own mother as a parental figure, often confiding in her about things she can't and shouldn't share with her father, although her almost over the top admiration for her father has become the driving force and inspiration for her own endeavors in show business, much to her father's disdain, as she grows older, him becoming more protective of her, and especially within the oftentimes secretive nature of his actual placement and purpose in the business, and her rebellious nature and charm even force-feeding her into the industry, she is a bleeding heart for superstardom, and is often seen along what may be a path to fame, making Patrick's bleeding heart all the more aching, as though he and Catherine remain at odds throughout the series, he truly loves his children, even “the little sick one”, as he refers to the second child. Holy shit, what is this kid's name If I had the energy to go through my notes, I could know; but I don't. The city sickness has been sinking in from the noise of the obnoxious motorists and honestly, being out of protein is giving me muscle soreness, I'm in some sort of a bloated haze from eating almost nothing but carbs, and the fact that I haven't been with anyone in years is starting to circle like buzzards around my head, my heart has been literally screaming but overwhelming with this sense of calm, and though slipping into Patrick's sometimes erratic tendencies, for the most part I've been underwhelmed with society's expectations that I should get some kind of job, and somehow while working not lose focus on my own interests and projects—I hate [the strange modern behaviors of] most people, and everything costs too much money— my son might be going into foster care, or my ex husband is evil enough just to try to force my energy to worry about a problem he's created, and I really wanted to sleep into the afternoon with this lethargy, hoping that everything surrounding this series would just fall off, but it doesn't. I wake up often wishing I could just forget The Festival Project ™ , but the truth is, it just keeps writing itself, but in the very least, sometimes God gives me little presents that mean the very most to me— a chord organ that I thought was from the 80's, but is more likely from the 1960's— I love vintage stuff, and musical instruments, which only God could know, really—my fascination with history as if I'm still living it, and this, my sudden fascination and drive to write and complete just one series has been haunting me almost just as badly as anything else has, but especially ripping me apart—especially since I have motorcyclists ripping through my body as if it were some kind of disease that existed outside of me, so contagious that it began to sink in to my insanity and mental hygiene. I wondered if anybody else knew or cared about these creatures as much as I didn't—and in fact, I had never felt so much like Ali in the way that I didn't care if they, other “human beings” supposedly, all died tragically, and wondered why the walls and windows didn't keep out the sound of the outside world at all… The middle child begins writing secretly very early on, and is the first to be required more extensive therapy, (as suggested by the family's therapist) after her parent's separation and subsequent divorce. It is not long after she begins learning to read and write at all, that she begins also showing interests in art, asking for art lessons and to begin painting and art therapy, rather than the recommended Equine therapy— she often keeps things to herself, then returning to her hidden places at times when the family's dysfunction becomes uncomfortable and overstimulating, very often paining or reading during times of peace, and retreating to her safe places—sometimes under the stairs, into the attic, the treehouse, or even later, the family's barnyard, where she often keeps drawings, as she ages, later comics, sometimes caricatures of the things she absorbs through her own reality—and diaries, sometimes hidden in nooks and crannies and in places no one would think; a true prodigy and genius, though hidden from much the world, as she is often overlooked, however, her therapist begins unfolding her true reality, often times carrying over sessions and losing track of time, picking her brain or even conversations philosophically What's the therapists name? Doctor Robin She has to have a last name Well, she's a child's therapist, so she's Doctor Robin, but It seems like it starts with a T. We'll see. I just saw her anyway. I drifted off again, thinking about how wildly detailed this all was becoming, and wondered if there was a series of fictional books waiting to be written. There certainly could be, but my mind was reeling, freshly showered but still undressed, and not even wanting to think of going outside—and yet—I was out of water, and had learned that the drinking water from the fountains, especially in large quantities, had a tendency to make me sick—I hadn't yet eaten anything, and though the coffee was fresh, and my apartment was clean (which made me overtly overjoyed for some reason) smelling of Lemon Lysol and Bleach; with notes of a strong pot of organic fresh ground coffee, it seemed like I couldn't do much more than lay in bed writing this catastrophically interesting series—and it was interesting, which said volumes, considering I had always been picky about my TV watching, being that only ever did certain series catch my eyes or my ears, and those series were almost always—or always, always specifically well written, perfectly casted, and had the edge and draw of becoming an entire world within itself, which this series, though only a week or two old at best, in my heart and in my mind , was rampantly ravaging my own world, almost as if it had become of some importance to keep writing it, and never stop, and though Patrick was the forefigure, another broken male protagonist, the truth in the series was that the true heroes of this sometimes scarily violent drama, were its women—a story meant to be told with a diversified cast of creatures from all worlds and walks of life—Esha, of course, herself, a role that had been some recreation of myself, somehow, though so different that even primarily, I never did see myself as her, besides the onslaught of some otherworldly pain, visions of a scene recollected from some remarkable download, and it might have been once and for all that I had lost my mind, or my life, if I wasn't a writer—I was, somehow, though, after all, a writer. It had been a fasting day that could have and might have ended tragically anyway, and still the devil marked his mockery of my efforts by consistently flinging perfect bodied women everywhere that I went—though usually with ugly enough faces that I could see nothing but what a man was—uncaring for one thing over the other, a flawless representation of woman, represented in the current time with scantily clad fashion, almost painfully so—the insecurity of women becoming more apparent in the way she would appear, always almost begging to be near to me, with every perfection and complexion I hadn't—but at least I had a tendency to laugh at my own damage, often surmising that she, these demon creatures, hadn't any talent for this at all—which had turned the state of television into a near circus act; that alone urged me to continue writing the series, perhaps with a typewriter, due to the negligence of nepotism within the industry which often resulted in these pretty little creatures getting even further ahead by stealing works as such, and passing them on as their own originality almost so cruelly and without judgement—plagiarism, as it was called, but more accurately intent-to-kill the imminent threat of what had been said to be a minority becoming a more powerful force to flourish in entertainment however, as quickly as the visions had come, the thought of writing it without my phone became dauntingly impractical, and I scribbled only the most intense scenes and plot lines onto notebooks and scratch papers, keeping them as hidden from the algorithm as possible… lol the Al Gore Rhythm Ahahahahahahaha Was that the joke? Maybe. Idk. Maybe. Idk. Hm. Hmmmmm: What: Nothing. That actually might have been it. Really, was it? I will never know. That is kind of a good dad joke, though. And a good band name. Idk about that. My coffee was lukewarm enough so that I could taste its flavor, as I whittled away at whatever it was— The story was almost so beautifully being told in allegories and parables that it seemed a shame I may never be rich enough to buy fame, as it seemed that was the only way to become a star these days— and yet—it was more the wealth than the fame I wanted, I had realized, at all—the polished class of the Manhattanites drawing me out of Brooklyn and into some debauchery which was my own Grandiose thought form, that I could actually become, at the ripe old age of 31, some kind of superstar. ‘Why would I even want that, anyway?' I thought, interrupted painfully by who I'm sure was the same motorist, who seemed to do nothing but circle the block all day, and all night, doing nothing — and I wondered why he himself had decided not to do grub hub in a richer neighborhood, where money would more than likely come more easily. But really— I drifted off to a time where I wanted to ride a motorcycle myself, and the curiosity forced me to go online to check the price of what it might cost to have one. $5,000 for a decent bike, which would include a muffler as not to be so obnoxious and disturbing to others as these creatures had become to me— and I began doing the math on how long it would take to save $5,000 as if it would be possible to work some dead end job for any amount of time without spending money on anything else. It would take at least 5 months to earn enough for a motorcycle, which landed me directly back at “Not worth it”, and as horrible as it was, I did at the very least have a luxury apartment for at minimum the next 5 years, however, wanting still to move to Manhattan, Midtown specifically—or one of the quaint and quiet neighborhoods on the upper West Side. The neighborhood was going to hell, after some unworldly godless force had seemed to drop hundreds of thousands of rude and thoughtless third world workers onto the streets and buildings bordering the one I lived on, the neighborhood becoming more rough and less peaceful with trash and debris from the depression and congenital disease that was poverty, the collective unconsciousness of the masses colliding with my empathetic nature and oversensitivity to sound, especially awful sounds, such as the hundreds of motorcycles and hot rodded junk cars which only seeemed to move in a track around a four block radius, and had become a cancerous trigger of sorts, no authority figure seemed to much care about. I cared less and less each day to listen to music, since I wasn't making it the way I wanted to—and I had realized that the constant displeasure and unrest, the lack of peace had as much to do with the world outside as it did with the world within—and I began to see the disgusting obnoxious noise pollution outside my window as just an extension of man's abuse, ability to rape, torture, and kill, terrorize— the uncaring waging of war, control, and lack of true power; as no good and true man who wielded actual strengeth or true power in any way would continue to show such distructive action and carelessness for others around him— chaos, corruption, abuse, and misogyny was proving to be the downfall of all humankind, as patronaged by man, and, as I became doubtful of anyone's lack of understanding of this, especially as the immigrants themselves were often naturally pedophillic culturally and toxically abusive in nature, most migrants flocking from countries in which women's liberation or the protection of youth had not yet materialized into their understanding of conciousness and morality—the men were weak, unkind, and selfish—the women mere machines at their disposal—and however many there were, I could see that their children, the many of them, remained as the redeeming factor. Anyway, a political ploy for the ages of there ever was such a thing, the newest chapter in American greed and slavery, it only seemed like an extension of evil itself, and less of a coincidence with each growing day—each new person, another burden to the middle class taxpayer, another reason to inflate the cost of living—and all the more reason to continue to terrorize the American people into its own division, hatred, demise, and consumption. e. My faith, however, was unwavering—God was real, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's —ahem— “Ron Sennet, and I ain't In it.” —did the say “don't” write a book about me? It's Not about him… Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's Jon Sennet, and I ain't In it.” Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear as soon as I had made the call, which infuriated me. It seemed as though the game in entirety to make me look or feel crazy, though I knew I wasn't—well, I was, but not without purpose or reason. I had been theorizing in energy exchange quite decisively making a mark for my alter, at which I asked to be designated the wisdom and truth of the light within the eye, desire, however never in mind, although I had been summoned in part due to the fact that wenwere somehow alike—I was in some ways besides and out of sorts with my set, sinking my teeth into the forced obsession as I unraveled any possibilities and plotline. Episode 01. Pilot An opportunity presents itself seemingly at random— the protagonist's hand is forced into a life changing ultimatum, putting his reuputation and family in danger. Already involved in an illegal gambling ring which operates out of a secret historical prohibition era speakeasy and some “light” drug mulling within its walls, however often extending even as dangerously close to his workplace, Patrick is propositioned to become an investor in the high end escort service, with which he hired and contracted his lover, Kandi, a “rescue” whom he supports in her exchange for exclusivity, to remain as her only client, however, although he begrudgingly declines, wishing not to be involved in anything much more than what he has already kept under the radar, he is intimidated and threatened by blackmail, his high profile becoming at stake—he then obliges to embark upon this new endeavor, the expansion of this establishment to include a warehouse, which houses a large scale brothel, and, able to use his social status to procure wealthy clientele, quickly becomes a power player within a ring of coveted elites, setting fire to his already inflated ego, and colliding with his intense and highly functional polyaddiction, which he has maintained since his youth, using his entertainment persona as an outlet, becoming a medium of excess, fame, and rampant wealth. Patrick is beloved by his peers, and is humbled often by his devoted fans and friends—proactively worshipped as a comic genius, a prodigy, and a revered successor to legendary frontmen— Okay, this is weird, because I started writing this before I even understood what I was writing at all… —specifically, the sixth successor, to his coveted role. I had written for Esha to be the seventh successor, as with the symbolism deeply and quite literally woven into the sometimes brutal framework of the series, which I had shorthanded to ‘TVP'…the world around me trailed off as my eyes blurred as they had been lately, and I wondered if I might be having some kind of stroke or something, as I was certainly some sort of out of body—the day had been strange, and I had given up on a run or a gym for the day, the motorcycles alone ravaging my energy, and whether I worked out or not, they were everpresent anyway. They were some sort of toxic, abusive force I just had to put up with, hoping it didn't upset my psychology so much that it ended me, though I had become quite odd as of recently, rambling more than usual and actually praying out loud, as my silent ones just didn't seem to be working—they were probably white supremacists, or in some way connected to some political terror group, but it didn't seem to matter. Someone liked torturing me, and it was becoming apparent that no matter much time I spent at the gym, this torture was going to persist. After a month long gym streak, at least going once a day to lift something, I rested, or rather, tried to rest, kind of— but my mind had been swirling with thoughts of a man I was certain by now I had made up—and writing the story of a man I was absolutely certain came from my mind, but in a way that it almost made no sense at all—as the more I looked into the world that I had already written about, the more I realized was accurate without first having known these things, and however cursed I might have been to even know such things, I decided to call it some sort of blessing instead. ‘God, I used to get so fucking high for days, and when I would come down, just crying and crying, eating Totinos or DiJorno and a bag of Bugles, I would watch Saturday Night Live for fucking hours, and I hated [Redacted]. I hated him.' Now I still hated [Redacted], but in a different way, and though really it was myself that was more like Patrick, he at the very least, for whatever reason, used to have his face—now, he was just Patrick, and [Redacted] was just [Redacted], and i knew entirely too much about it all, and about myself to be comfortable with it, but nothing was comfortable at all. I had written entire atrocities, novels, and all that was some conglomerate of nonsense which was the festival project, besides how insanely and innately prodigal it all was sometimes, my own words confusing me with a bizzare and asenine dysfunction, awe, actually, often as if someone else had written them, and although I was always at least sort of semi-concious while writing, the spells and cadences I would fall under were some sort of trance, and as I watched the Nirvana rehearsal from Saturday Night Live in 1992, long before [Redacted] or any of the rest of the — Was it Keystone? It was, the Keystone cast of SNL, but the first word my mind had jumped to was Hallmark, which—after referencing Google quickly for a fact check, also stood true. I was willing to admit, even now, though I had long lost interest in Saturday Nighy Live, or anything at all having to do with current events, that the [Redacted] era—or rather even, the Tina Fey era, a true role model, perhaps, and someone I favored over all of the performers I admired, or allowed myself to admire— the Golden Years of Saturday Night were the only years, for me that even mattered— trying to make sense of anything couldn't be done, but I at least had this new project birthed from it to think about. It would be hard to sit down at a taping of The View and not think about all I had written at all, and it would be impossible not to unfold the characters which had presented themselves, though slowly but surely, through the most vivid visions and insanely lucid dreams, as The TV People began to What if someone steals this out of my documents? That would be unwise…the best scenes are somewhere scribbled in my notebooks and random scraps of paper somewhere in my room…this series is almost nothing without those scenes—the elements with which the most painful scenes I had ever written, became word form. ‘I don't know why, but I feel so i

HALLE BERRY is that how you spell it It is for now. Fuck going online “That ain't part of my day” Shut up Drake, not now. You'll thank me later “If You're Reading This, It's Too Late” [HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award-- Which one's her favorite? CUT TO: BEFORE HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.] —I like this guy. The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process. Come on! This guy! AGAIN!? UGH. CUT BACK TO: [HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ] WHAT THE—COME ON I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE. (I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode Or without cell service at all) wtf my phone is ringing. That's weird. You don't even— —I don't even have a phone. Right. (Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.) The fuck. [it's JIMMY FALLON] Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever. Like fucking ever. Always shows up at the worst —THE WORST MOMENT. [HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again] WHAT THE— [She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until— [JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.] (Calmly, kind of) Hey, WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I called first! I KNOW THAT— Went to voicemail. YOU SHOULDNT BE HERE. Just—calm down. NO. Look. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically. —yeah, but your FACE is in my house— —I hear that's the best part. —What?! Listen— Get out— No, look, listen— I need to borrow your Oscar. What?! For what?! That's not important. Oh really?! Yeah. It seems important. It's not that important Just—- What! Give it to me! [He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.] Just—trade me. What! What for?! Just—trust me— I do not— Just trust me—! WHAT! Congratulations. As you were. Kind of. WHAT—JIMMY— [She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing] —he was my favorite… [SUDDENLY, though the other window Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate? For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside. Fans are weird. CUT TO: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE YOU. CUT TO: What's this place. It's my house, Where are the windows? They don't exist. CUT BACK TO [DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.] YO. WHAT THE FUCK! Chill, Halle Berry. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I'm the guy who wrote this. You should have called first! Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?! NO. I LIKE HIS face. Huh. Is that what it is… I GUESS I DONT KNOW. —who are YOU—?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE— I am not in, technically— I DONT CARE! Ooh— Is that a Grammy award?! I didn't know you had a Grammy! Gimmie! [he snatches the Grammy] HEY! Is—what is this, for COMEDY?! FOR COMEDY?! WHY WASNT I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?! I DONT KNOW, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK. It's not important. What. Anyway, thanks. Toodeloo. The Rock must have been buzzing in some sort of special way on this day; because for some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I had finally rearranged the remainder of my seemingly new surroundings— the miniature keurig, a status symbol, of course, looked handsom on the work desk— the cat tree seemed to match, though with no actual feesible monetary income, and no end in sight— the tree itself would have to be enough to lift my spirits. It was a nice cat tree, almost untouched and looking very brand new— though the couch had a few scratches, though easily hidden with the decorative use of a couple throws—at least I had a couch, and all that was left to accomplish before fully enjoying was to arrange an order of Freebreeze to rid it of its previous owner's dandruff smell, and general mismanagement—besides that, it was itself almost brand new as well, and it seemed a strange new world to wake up in, after sleeping in a nearly empty apartment for 6 months; there was 6 months left in my lease, and I was getting nervous that they would try to push me out—hopefully I would find someplace better, or at the very least higher up—with the same amenetire intact. Still, I was working as diligently as in could on organizing—at least the recordings, to put together the next group of projects as quickly as I could— nevermind the writing—and there was so, so much of it, I hadn't a clue what to do. I had been avoiding Rockefeller Plaza like the plague for quite sometime—it always made me nervous in a sort of way I didn't understand, in that I would pulsate and vibrate differently, and more often times than not was upset and concerned that I had yet to go to the top—a costly feat—nor could I afford to entertain or enjoy any of the amusements at the bottom—not that i wanted to, as the older I got, and especially the longer time spent in New York, the more of putting the public and large crowds were—particularly after a remarkably disgusting respiratory infection I caught on new years, battling a crowd which became impossible to move through at all—let alone see the ball drop—and I had learned my lesson, especially after The Macy's Day parade; the crowds in New York were disgustingly unbearable, and in order to get a good view of anything, you would have to arrive nearly a full day early, and simply camp—now I knew why people packed around collapsible lawn chairs on holiday weekends. I had been blindsided by Fallon towards the end of the Macy's day parade—I hadn't any clue at all that he apparentlyboarticipated annually, as it had been years since I had watched the parade myself with my parents—and still, it was iconic—I always wanted to go. Still, and even though I had only written very little of him up to that point, I found it disasterous that as his name was announced and the float which carried him and The Roots, the best late night band on Television, not by opinion, but by fact—as I had most recently been studying and researching as thoroughly as I could all of the late night hosts since the dawning of Television in preparation to write this pilot, The TV People, short handed to TVP—and just then I recalled a dream from the night before, about Pat Kirkpatrick—for the first time in the dream world, it wasn't Fallon at all, but Pat Kirkpatrick. I couldn't remember the dream, nor could I seemingly work myself out of the rut that had been the plateau in writing the show—the show itself was heavy, with so many characters, all of which each had been given detailed and specific personalities, livelihoods, and backgrounds—in fact, I hadn't written anything in such a way since college, with detail—actually, I had never written anything so detailed at all, so character oriented that the character analyses filled entire pages of documents with excruciating vividness, as if these people were real. Well, now they were—and Fallon was neither Patrick as I was Esha, and the story has taken its own form, still however birthing an incredibly awkward and romanticized fascination and near obsession with Fallon—not that I would feed it to be so. I blocked out the news outlets, the media, the alrogithm's suggestions to watch bits and pieces of Fallon, though, however, I refused, and somehow, I didn't need it. Fearfully so, he was somewhere lodged deep inside me—and I was even sort of embarrassed to have written some of the things I had of his essence, however prophetic it seemed to be, that for about a three week period between April and May, I seemed to have gone off into a trance of sorts, writing for hours and experiencing vivid visions of this show, The TV Prople, alongside writing The Festival Project ™ And all of its markers—there were so many worlds, so many ways throughout them—and now as I had realized, I had actually been writing about Fallon nearly as long as I had been writing about Sonny, but differently. I had never of course come face to face with Fallon as I had the latter—and still—found it somewhat nessecary to hide my face beneath a mask as his float passed my viwingbspace, an elevated view from the staircase of some church, which had happened to be perfect—and although I was certain it's not as if he was looking for me—I had just then been writing of this Cosmic Avenger, and hadn't any idea at the time of Fallon in reality having been an actual magician, and still— with cameras everywhere, and knowing even what I had written—I didn't want to be caught by any passing cameras with any sort of blush or worse—a smile on my face as the float passed— a smile which would flash my atrocious gap-tooth and crooked smile I was sure was permanent, by then having been in the homeless shelter nearly a year. As soon as his name was announced, I promptly pulled up my masked. I had already been caught on camera earlier in the parade gawking at some float—now was not the time to be caught gawking again. He, like Rob Lowe seemed impeccably professional and well-rehearsed, like a cartoon character— he was, after all, kind of a cartoon character, however now, even if it was partly due to my own writing, I took him more seriously. There was a darkness about him— a sometimes glassy-eyed, almost scary darkness that told me, even a world away not to fuck with this dude—some kind of animal or monster I was sure we both shared, however mine more the type and category of insatable and undernourished and his more peaking its head out in the form of a multi-millionaire network puppet, which housed an untamable powerhouse of musicianship, manhood, and wit— it's true, I was finally scared of him, knowing after all what the true tears of a clown could be, a dangerous man in a uniformed suit, the Everyman for the programmed masses, and the funny man with a jig to dance, a story to tell, and an indoor life— secret realm within I was sure no one knew. I fed the monster with respect to the home, happy wife, and children— I, after all, loved love, and only wanted it for myself, leaving alone the parts of a man I had found and was sure was broken enough to have left me puzzled and star studded rather than struck as I always was, tears welling up at the thought of it that something should be mended neither I or anything I was could not fix—I continued to write, however, knowing I was walking on glass barefoot and tiptoeing on eggshells around the mass media conglomerate of the network that stood between my feeble world and his, the higher ups— and bryknnd: it was, after all, a level system— and now with a beautifully decorated and fully apartment, besides my mistress on the floor instead of the space saving loft bed I had wanted—though it looked just right with the piano bench as a headboard, housing my crystals and new globe, plus a colorful collection of books I could crack open as I awoke to the morning light, no longer so early but increasingly later, as I shifted into the insomniatic habits of a true DJ and music producer, still writing and reading in the mornings, however— I had to wonder what level I was truly on. My apartment looked like a home. The decor was better than I could have imagined myself even, the tasteful furnishings and modern elegance shifting my reality— no longer an empty apartment, now a fashionable hub for art and creation. I assumed the car would come along in the winter, with any hopes that I would finish my albums by then—and also looming over me— my last life, and the people in in struggling to call up to me in this very ascended realm, which I was lucky to inhabit. ‘Thank you God for your many blessings' My wishes it seemed, had been granted— magic did indeed seem real, and though I had an Amazon return packaged and ready to go— there wasn't a time and place I could see myself as ready to even be near The Rock, some festering bulletwound in my heart, all that I had written, not just of Fallon, but of the rest of the people I had honored by word mark but had not yet the status or wealth to have ever known as human at all, but more products of the program; with intention, however, it was the path I had followed to be destined here somehow though small codes and doorways, signals and symbols which called to me and seemed only I could see—but were there in plain sight, and with the right eyes, had meant more than I ever dreamed anything could— open doors to a world I had indeed created myself, and in turn, the world in which I lived had also been created around me. I had to, in my mind, find the light inside all of whom I studied, to humanize myself—nurturing some fascination of fame and celebrity inside which still stood unanswered, the question of why and how one becomes so high up that without trying, that I might continue to find them in my mind's eye and in my world, on the outside, time after time. —tales of a superstar DJ. https://linktr.ee/codenameblu {Now You See Me} From Google: Charismatic magician Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg) leads a team of talented illusionists called the Four Horsemen. Atlas and his comrades mesmerize audiences with a pair of amazing magic shows that drain the bank accounts of the corrupt and funnel the money to audience members. A federal agent (Mark Ruffalo) and an Interpol detective (Mélanie Laurent) intend to rein in the Horsemen before their next caper, and they turn to Thaddeus (Morgan Freeman), a famous debunker, for help. No, not the google documents! GET IN THE HOLE. Hm. What. Blood Shower All along the watch tower Do you feel good? Do you? Do you feel bad about this. I do. I feel bad about this. I forgot to tell you– I should probably let you know that I just want to MAN, FUCK THIS DUDE. MA. WAHT. IT'S ON. WHAt. THE SHOW IS ON. THEWHAT. THE– *suddenly self aware* …I gotta get out of Boston. What, first this was about war, now it's about bird people? It's about a war WITH the bird people. I should sleep. Hahaha. No. This isn't funny anymore. At least it's over. MA– Oh, it's far from over. Yo, i'm going through some crazy shit right now. Spur of the moment I'd never thought of it; This is gonna take forever. I don't have the patience To even write this I just want french fries right now But been up for two days with no gym and I'm on a diet. GUAC TIME. No, no burritos. GUAC TIME. Oh shit, this is getting real as fuck . NOw i see it three ways. I love it. I hate it. HEY, LET ME OUT. GET BACK IN YOUR HOLE, SKRILLEX. I'M DILLON FRANCIS. IN THE HOLE. Check it out. Huh. It's another DJ. *agrees* Should we pick him up. WEll, the good news is: I found your friend. Oh, that's good. The bad news is: He's dead. Oh, that–'s … nice. Yeah. It is. Uh. Kaskade. Yeah. We gotta find Ryan. Why. What's up? You're freaking me out. Why. What's up. Nothing IS it my eyes? I– *wild ass eyes* Yeah, it's probably that. Fuck dude, what did you do to deadmau5. NOTHIN. He's not the same. What the fuck is that. Holy shit I jus timejumped Where the fuck are you going. How the fuck could this happen?! It COULDN'T. Well, that's it then. *shrugs* Well, I guess we're just gonna have to go dig up Dillon Francis. I guess so. Do you think he's still alive. Like, probably not– Maybe… No, probably not @prodbywar& @Halmadeit This amazon order took me nine hours Alexa, I think i should fire her Like a arm I don't leave at night without armor Don't make me a martyr Your mom will be proud of us all If i make it outta here And i'll look after her Got the whole block coming up on my heels as I walk Wtf is it… Idk dude. Is it speeding up? I…i think so. There's no way this is 140 IT's 140. It's 140 . There's no way. Yes way. Nah huh. Let me see. No. Let me at the decks. Let me at the decks. NO. YO LET ME AT THE DECKS. You want deks. Yes. I got deks. Really. yeus . I never listened to it like this In ableton I read serato, synesthesia and rekordbox I talk a lot, I'm like a human music box I walk a lot I run my mouth a mile a minute (faster than i run around the track reciting rap words) Like they're passwords. Oh, I could do this forever.. I wish i had i microphone right now And was all alone With the lights off Lying on the floor I'd be lying if i said I could afford you Just to fornicate But may consider playing with a foreigner If you're all for her I'm unnerved, you know Cause i've been up so long My monster likes to play with boys and Make the bass go down below where Nobody does anymore Once I get a hold of things Or the hang of it You've got another hot ones on your hands I've another record under my belt Or in my roster, Whatever you'd call it But now I've got no time to bark about Wanting a dog and a daughter But none of the responsibility or Going through all the trouble to find her a father I'm still holding a fart in. Reaally–cause–it's been a really long time. WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT A LONG TIME, JIMMY FALLON?? Um a lot! You literally just saw me make the journey all the way up from nothing. I am nothing EXACTLY. I don't have time to fight with you Jiimmy Fallon. I did NOT write these games by myself you know?! Um, excuse me– “GAMES” ?! YES, GAMES. Uh, I've only got one game with you in it, my friend. Is that so! One game that I've written with the Great–formerly LATE Jimmy Fallon. Is that like a play on words cause i'm on late night TV YOu'RE ON ALL THE TIME TV, JIMMY. NBC SHIT IS PRACTICALLY AUTOMATICALLY SYNDICATED. -_- …are you alright. –_-_-__-_ Hold on, I think i've got it Nice, I found a growler. yOu still haven't got all the monsters and sprites Ive got all the big ones, but the little ones are harder to catch. GrO0Wl3rrr. Aww. He's so ugly. Yeah, but cute, though, right. I don't think so. Gro)WwlErrrrrrrrr. Aww. That's so fucking gross. lol . so what does this thing look like. Well, that't the thing about the monsters and sprites. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT. It's alright, it's alright–he's nice. WHAT. THAT'S A SPRITE. No, it's a monster. He's just scary. SUPACREE. David Bowie. What up. God, it took me ages to find you. Tell me about it. I'm still trying. We've been expecting you for a long time. You were expecting I'd die? Yes. So when she says she's “married to the music…” I'm married to the music. Oh, so. Yo, honestly if you een want to talk to this bitch, you'd better have like a musical instrument, or a mic in your hands, Otherwise– No, getawayfrom me. It's not even worth it. HI. –No. What's up? Tempo. SUNNI Cotour From the store I was poor Now i'm honorable In velour, Glamour (Snap) Forsure, Jesus Christs is making appearances in my abletons I'm not able to comprehend or understand exactly the message, But the evidence sire is mounting Get it Reached the temple, More of a sanctuary, Is that sacrilegious I guess it is, I'm stressed as ever Trying to get it together {Enter The Multiverse} Now I know too well, The well of tears on my guitar She's got a body like one Oh her curves But I just wonder what it like to be loved By stars Socialites and superstars They're Gods, you know How high up they are Above us And he lives in an ascended dimension, But he insists, he says Her transcendence is upon us He said Your transcendence is upon us He says these things, And then just vanishes So she gets up promptly Warms up yesterday's coffee Looks around in her coffin And wonders What for I just Wonder what it's like to be loved by stars Without double r's, you know I've got scars But it's mostly just Teardrops, and soft kisses On my guitar Cause, oh, Oli, I ain't got nobody— And nobody holds me Like I hold Oli (Could have been Ali, But of course— I had already lost that one A whole well of tears, I lost At his departure And a whole well more When I actually lost him I almost miss Having someone to talk to About anything and everything But I've got Oli And God now I've got Oli And Oli (oli) Is all that I've got Besides God That's the only contact In my Phone book No more double Ls And double entendres; No more double rs At all Just scars now No more metaphors. Honest is radical I like them cynical I should have clinical insanity by now But I'm only just an artist You can't help But can only harm that And if it hurts hard enough I'll put art on my walls Become permanent Storybooks all over my arms now My coat of arms now I've run Ten point 5 miles In the last 3 days; But if I rest today Will a motorcycle gang Have a parade outside of my window, To drive me crazy? I hope it rains, So they can't play these games with my head And the seeds that I planted So deep become daisies I still don't remember The way he rearranged me But these days I make my name sound So the way He can never say it Just imitates The way I hate myself I should be dating But expressions are Atrocious If I fall asleep— Who knows I may get Stolen That tends to happen So I'm All the way up And I'm swollen in ways That I hate to say “I love you” Love me back Or say it harder That's my martyrdom Come off the cross, for a moment, Would you for us? And bend over Or bow, if you will? If I did, Would you still call me wicked Or just a Good witch Since I'm a woman, I just couldn't be Jesus, Who you asked for once And always Who you asked for some To save you from your Credit reports And consorts Or some sort of Nonsense [famous last words] God don't speak much English, She says God don't speak much these days We were Always Telepathic That was way back then When Oedipus Rex Was on the Guest list I was standing at the coat check, asking Why I must take off my hat When entering the service To the bouncer, he says “That's just politics” I said, That's just politics We both said, What's the difference Then we all laughed —then we all just laughed and laughed Exchange is my favorite exchange Where my favorite exchanges Have happened for centuries Of engagements Endeared species, And races pieces haven't tasted the same Since I haven't had them Animal products And animal planet I found this hat on Discovery channel Did you want it? I can't stand it So I had to have it back I just had to use the bathroom I just had to disconnect From [] See— I don't even have to put the words in Cause a name is just words When that's a man You just can't have And that's the worse When that's a man And you can't have him What a habit. Silky rabbit. Now he's the Ace. All In A Day's Work I've never died before. Oh… that is terrifying. It sounds terrible. It's really not that bad. Why are you not writing this down? I just need a moment… It's really not that bad… I die all the time. I get sensory overload At Trader Joe's Look at the colors The clothes, This sure isn't queensborough Escalators for shopping carts I get it Manhattan I'll take my half BLVCK ass to the projects Where my kind are I don't belong here , God you're intolerant I like this part of town But I'm way too brown And I dropped my crown at the market I should be jealous of everyone But I have learned my place I've been a slave since Hollywood I lost my son to the devil Now I pay child support And terrorist follow me coughing I'm wrong just for being born ! You could start a war from it If that's what you wanted I'm a people watcher people watcher About to board the people mover People mover Slip, Here's the tell Slip, here's the tell I should have a bell around my neck I think she wanted a picture with papa I'm playin my own paparazzi Look mom, I bought a sacafagus There go them niggas with coughs again I been watching em Got binoculars I got oculus, for my oculars Look how hot he is, make me ovulate Man I gotta love it, Cause they love to hate Fucking racist crazies Have it your way I paid for it with my soul You hate but I love to love Somebody just got me fuckes up I don't have a book to run off of Shut up, honey. Now we're all up here Monkey in the middle Cause the middle one is weaker It's getting deeper and deeper Like the sinkhole that my sink is Let it sink in I've been syncing my secrets with demons In dreams sequences It's just a reparative injustice Kamasutra for your wondering words and stuff You can have it It's ruined anyway m Look at all this trash Look at all these classless classes Classwars, Racists. Everybody hates us The Asians, Latinx's The other niggas What being black is I'll write it in cursive It's just a curse, here So you can have it I'm moving to Heaven I'm packing my boxes I'm getting a cat, too! His name is Agustus He's a big one And I love him I just wanted a hug or a husband Instead I got nothing to trying my hardest And got for a bargain at target some coffee For being a targeted body All on an algorithm I guess I'm just useless. A dumb nigger demon Did I just offend you? Then you shouldn't be reading this either I wrote it for pleasure (Or pain) On the one Or the two Or the one Or the two I could do a lot with this $20. I could spend it all on Fuck all of you I'm moving to Heaven Where the heart it She's not harmless She's a terrorist— And I'll kill her, too Look how right she is Look how white she is, Huh Regardless of color It's a race war Lil biiiiitzzz Yooo, fuck New York. In every hole. In every crevice. Fuck this place. It's racist— Not just cause I'm black. Like statistically. It took a whole ass apartment elsesrch to feature this out. I was like “I wanna live in Manhattan” Everyone was like “NOOOOOOOO—-“ Haha “Nooo, no.” I was like “Why not?” The blacks were like: HAHA The whites were like— *COUGHS OBNOXIOUSLY* New York is so racist. It is statistically the most diverse—and most segregated city in the nation At the same time. WHAT. How do you even DO that? But it's true, at this point, the black people are like—fuck this, we'll just stay over here, and over here. And the rich whites are like YES. KEEP THAT SHIT, OVER THERE. Cause if you've ever been to the ghetto. It's some SHIT, It is NOT COOL. I finally got my ‘night card' back. Had it revoked in california . I was almost a whole valley girl. I still eat exclusively at Whole Foods. Trader Joe's. But NO. Now i live in the hood. It's fucking disgusting. I can say ‘nigga' again. Cause it's NIGGAS. Lots of niggas. I'm telling you. It's night and day! The white folks trains smell like bleach— Ammonia. The black folks train smell like a McDonald's. WHAT. Or just— Vomit. I can actually count the number of times just— Vomit—- On the train. Or. Dookie. Yes. Human feces. But I'm ready to go to midtown and it's like the train that goes around Disneyland. Families! People singing! Hey—cotton candy!! —and I didn't have to pick it! Haha! Fuck New York. Racist ass HOLE. I thought surely the next presidential election was one or two years out, but the racial tensions which had been rising became even more pronounced, as I realized that November was theboncoming time—and that they hostility between the whites and the blacks had once again been a result as the oncoming war, fueled onward—that the hatred, disgust, and general aggression of the whites had been of course, in the midsts of yet another Trump-fueled political upheaval, and I wondered why and how at all I had been caught in such a world that existed in form of man, of course, now proven himself to be the weaker sex, and yet in that of dominance, as was arranged in such an unholy war, to be the helm of power by sheer greed— now it seemed that these attacks were indeed political terrorism, and that these motorcyclists, my placement close to the ground level, and my neighbor's clammorings were specific attacks, after my identity had been varied to be that of the same in which I had once held political ambition, now none of which I assumed mattered at all. Perhaps I needed something more certain than a 12 story jump or suicide by train, and wondered as to whether it would be easy enough to kill myself bh self inflicted gunshot—a sure thing for certain, as love has been lost in the way of money at all. At that party…or rather, kind of—after. That acid that never hit Beyoncé I don't feel it. Man, I'm a terrible influence(r) Just take it. Nah, I'm good— PUSSY. -_- Give me three. K. —suddenly hits BEYONCÉ. BEYONCÉ …I got this. [BEYONCE] however, does not Ohh, shit. — “got this.” A very stranded, very sober Johnny depp stumbles upon what appears to be a college frat party, where the only thing they have is light beer, and nobody even recognizes him as a celebrity, because the attendees are all gen z What's even after gen z? The fucking apocalypse. Anyway. The acid hits Beyoncé on her way to make coffee, which extends the trip from the living room to the kitchen infinitely. Multidimensional Anne Hathaway hulks the fuck out and saves the day by ruining everything, which actually fixes everything— and *spoiler* helps Jesus to remain as the king of kings at beer pong. Lol In the late 90s in New York City, the keystone cast of Saturday night live learns of each other's formerly sexret psychic abilities, and uses the radio technologies of Rockefeller plaza to develop a research center for the telepathically gifted, eventually discovering and perfecting time travel. Supacree (the kid version) appears in and out of her ideal and desired realities, baffling ‘the Hollywood people' and later ‘the New York people', becoming the legendary central figure of the Illuminati, as the original timepiece — a pyramid shaped extra terrestrial vehicle which contains an ascended hyper conciousness, which I can't remember how it goes, did the supacree leave to find the Skrillex, or was it the other way around? I think it was both ways at some point, but the whole thing was this, just in case I never wrote it but just saw— These space god (humanoid evolved) are some kind of scientists/ doctors— there are four timepieces, each representing an era upon our planet; earth, which is distant but sacred— these four time pieces each depart their given “docs” in time to appear on earth at specific Fuck this is hard to explain Times in history, at which the first worlds, or previous human eras were known to have been destroyed— these time pieces travel through time space with the full record of these events in order to alert the current human era of its imminent doom, as an attempt to prevent such disasterous events, typically war, which will lead to the annihilation of the human species; these Gods, one male and one female, a king and queen, a married couple are the rules of the humankind, technically worshiped as a whole as one God, with whom the human design was modeled after, however, the true source of all things is the cosmos, known and unknown, in its totality—neither man or woman, but the force of creation. Anyway, what else is happening Oh. All of the celebrities are stuck in— [the festival project] in some way, shape, or form until its creator finishes it—and though it in itself is infinite, its 'finishing' notates its eventual production, which lol. That never going to happen. Because. Let's face it. I'm scared of …rich people. Yeah, sure. Yeah. I'm scared of The effect of the race war, which has been to pit the white woman against the black woman, which allows and maintains the continuation of war mongering male dominance over the entire planet, which remains as a destructive force of greed, racism, and inequality. So why try? [EDITS] CONAN O'BRIEN Alright. If she hit Fallon, she's gonna come for one of us next. No, Conan—that's not how this works. WHAT—where did you come from!? When did you get here? JAY LENO This goes deeper than all of you can understand. WHAT the FUCK, man! When did you-/ —when did he get here? How did you do that?! How did you do that?! What are you, like, the same guy? Are you not all the same guy? [they shrug simultaneously and kind of just agree] Listen at this. Okay then. The enemy of your friend is my enemy. Oh…kay—and the enemy of my enemy—is my friend— That is correct. —so we're all friends here. That's right. Some special forces? Which forces? How special? [JENNIFER LOPEZ is still JENNY FROM THE BLOCK] Do I look like a fool to you? Uh— OOPS [a pre-fame Jennifer Lopez receives a drop full of diamonds instead of the usual; she has been granted access into the Illuminati, and becomes an overnight success.] This feels heavier than usual. Same as always. Hm. Are you sure. Yep. Hey, you're not the regular guy. Regular guy died. That makes sense. JENNIFER ANNISTON is inside of Ū Okay, grosss Not like that [lifting max weight] Okay. That was cool. Wow. Yeah, sure whatever. I am strong Yeah yeah, okay. Are you sure you want to be my size? Yep. JIMMY FALLON/SKRILLEX (we don't know actually which at this point) is also trapped inside of Ū Okay, gross! Yeah. SKRILLEX is in all of Ū. okay—actually, i'm okay with that, but That other guy?! [JIMMY FALLON] Yeah, he's weird. Also meanwhile, kind of— MARSHALL MATHERS has a closet cleaning service lol. Patrick is smooth as a motherfucker, you know. Every time his head is down on the desk like that, he takes a bump of coke. What?! Big uh! [Patrick takes bumps of cocaine in front of a live studio audience—every single night.] Woah! See. Goddamn. You gotta admire a guy like that. Jennifer Anniston is the weight on the cable tension machine Ooh. Psycho bitch devious methods new ludachris commercial All ya'll girls is toddlers I like long boards and longhairs Lawn mowers and lawn shares Aw hell nah, God forgot Cher I got the Blair witch project On Blair, I hope I scare you How dare you. Your girl looks like a naked mole rat. I got my soul back. You blue eyed bastards stole everything From the whole blacks, Hold that thought I'm at Whole Foods market throw in the Amazon algorithm off With marked dollars Look at God at Walmart On them rollbacks You old hacks are cackling I'm shackled to old habits Hold hands with me, rabbit I'm just a silly rapper really, are you? Maybe. Cut the verse of Reverse God Now I'm the devil I'm still lost in the Amazon cart I sharted all up in your pop tarts Before you warmed them up, pops Just for the sake of the art, Heart to heart, It's a war on love And the white girls won with nothin but Buckets of Whatever's up there I wouldn't know Cause I'm stuck job searching And running, Trying not to have a tummy So some gummy worm will love me First their sour, then they're sweet Then nobody, Trolli Holy moly I could use some more petroleum in the ocean! Said nobody But the globalists are performing your programming Which you're worshiping I put my eye on the dollar So I could watch you all Crumble and fall Don't you know The apocalypse is happening at the mall Of all the places How's that for a stream of consciousness, You salamander I asked Anandar back But I went past that chapter Have a chap Or a chapstick, for four times four dollars A bottle of water will cost you a fortune (But at least the drugs are in it) Get it It's recycled piss Distilled? Which is it, Mr,? The mystery box was literally lifted into My dinner from a fishery filled with nothing but niggers in it— I want a refund, before I catch that Fucking curse of poverty from — what'd you call it salmonellahallibut One hell of a cough from someone on the sidewalk But guess what? The devil's in your pocket or your palm, And that's the omen and the psalm rolled into one Cause God is awesome, But my mom is fuckin toxic And that's how I fuckin got here Blow my head off, Slit my wrists And write a song While jumping off a bit When all you need is money, But the world costs more than It's worth, and words are nothing But another fucking problem in your Google documents I look at my son and see a God, But half of Satan's in him, Oh man Robotics Lets be honest, I don't even know how to write this. Where's my sides?! WHERE'S MY SIDES. You don't get SIDES with this; It's just CHICKEN. I don't eat CHICKEN. It appears as though, however– You do. Ok, I gotta get off this playlist. I… i gotta . “The Wal*Mart Wars” Hm. … …………. …. *face* … no. No. l– What is this place. {After a wild night which apparently spiraled out of control, great , there goes my peace. Not forever, though, maybe. FUCK THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS PLACE. Everybody hates this place. But the album is called “I love New York” Yes, thats Technically How it's pronounced, though It's stylized like I _ NY Cause. EXT. MIDTOWN MANHATTAN. DAY Oh, wow, this is beautiful. THis is great. I love this place FUCK THE FEDS. CUT TO: EXT.Typically WHEREVER ELSE Anywhere ‘above' like 87th? Lets just call it 80th, be safe. BE SAFE! NIGGAZ. ah shit, i gotta go. BITCH– But lets just be honest, It's technically ‘above' But it's really [THE BRONX is a literal extension of the Underworld] Oh no. srsly tho. X_c Anyway. FUck man, Do you think i'll ever get good like that. Idk what equipment is this Hmm, lets see, that's approximately $8,000 USD of CDJs wow yep That's retarded Yep. And you still need a mixer. fukt. OKay, I would literally sell my soul for this. Consider it done. wait , really? YES. you earned it. Wait, I– What?! You earned it… Uh oh. Take care now. Shit. [BILLIE ELLISH is trapped inside WALMART] Uh oh. Fuck. what is this place. INT. WALMART. WHENEVER EMPLOYEESLAVES WHAT TIME IS IT. THERE'S NO WINDOWS IN HERE. That's not funny IT'S literally a synonym, we might as well make it a portemantau MEanwhile, in this other dimension, So that i don't offend anybody… Actually, you know what? Be offended. Quit that stupid fuckin shit and follow your dreams! Wait really? Wait, really? Sure! If you want! …i guess. AMERICA NO. INSTANT HOMELESSNESS ok , nvm. Damn. I know, right. wtf r u guys watching. Shut up. All Wal*Mart Employees are actually top secret government agents. x ∞ >.< (we'll just use Billie Ellish as the alternate, but really it could be Could it really? Shut UP, PLURNICORN. Wtf is a PLURNICORN We'll see. [Upon Realizing s/he is trapped in a mysterious place apparently extremely public Wait, you've never been to a Wal*Mart Before?! NO. I grew up in LA Rich as fuck And i've been famous since I was liike 12, Or something. Right. That is–kind of terrifying. LATER: WHY IS IT SNOWING INSIDE. WHERE'S THE EXIT. THEY HAVE GUNS?! oh wow, they have GUNS. WHY DO WE NEED GUNS! KA-BLAM. BECAUSE THEY HAVE GUNS. Bang-bang! Ptttttttttt—sttt. And they have guns. Actually, these are just– confetti cannons. *pop!* Lol “Possibly The Worst Show Ever the infinite rave continues on in Hell as everyone awaits the return of SŪPACREE- The Cosmic Avenger (Who Is NOT a DJ) and Sunnï Blū (who is a superstar rapper but also not a DJ) go back to back, buying time as the beacon to. Signal "The Supacree" is completed, battling the 10th dimensional DJ Ū, a super ninjas, for control of the decks. what else happened? idk. I CANT STOP DANCING. none of the DJs can find a pair of working headphones, and the sound guy is missing from the booth. "missing" YOU SHOT HIM. I THOUGHT IT WAS A TRANQ DART. {Enter The Multiverse} “TVP” Hazel is 6, turns 7 season 1 Season 7- 15 Man, I can't remember the other two kids names, I think the little boy is Ira but I might have named them all and forgotten, shit. Her sister, though is between 4 ½ and 5, they are technically “Irish twins”, and always fighting—they look very similar, however are not at all alike; Hazel is very much a daddy's girl, while her younger sister is a no-nonsense old soul with the tendency to cause trouble, not by being inquisitive or showy, as her sister often is, but rather by being quietly observant, and tends to dismiss both her parents, often isolating, or even dissappearing without notice, quietly and comfortably into her own world—as the series progresses, and though all of Patrick's children like their parents have showcased some kind of special ability or talent— Holy shit, give this kid a name-/ I thought I already named her, I just don't remember. That's true. It seems like they all had names. She is almost very typically, though showing signs of genius, even at the early age at the beginning of the series, a middle child, prone to upset almost too easily, but rather than acting out, is more likely to take her anger quietly; she shares her fathers deep brown eyes, dark hair, and though she looks otherwise very much like her sister, and later despises her father, is more inwardly and outwardly like him, though taking the side of her mother during their separation and divorce, oftentimes even lashing out at her father quite openly, and very vocally, as she grows into herself. “Ira”, (may have had another name earlier) is the youngest of three— as his third birthday approaches sometime during the first season. Great, now I gotta hide all those allegories so nobody can actually draw from this that Patrick— Where's his write up, anyway? That shit could go on for days. I have no idea why this catharsis is happening. I tried to sleep it off, I swear, but I still woke up like— At least mildly obsessive about this, for whatever reason. Hazel's 7 - Season Arc Hazel has the eyes, charm, and charisma for entertainment —she hopes to one day be as her father, an entertainer and performer, and will do almost anything for a laugh. She is often telling jokes, and is a people- pleaser. She is sickeningly cute, with golden hair and Hazel eyes, long eye lashes, and carries baby fat in her face, though she is rather average, neither heavy or plump, and however also not frail at all. She is inquisitive, smart, and busy, almost never idle-minded, and strong. Though sort of a Tom boy, she has been trained well to act with dignity, class, and feminine eloquence, much like her mother—but like her father, has a tendency to be crass, sometimes carelessly so, or even brutally honest—to her mother's disdain, but embraced wholesomely by other family members and adults, she's extremely funny and delightful, and very much unlike her mother, not a spoiled brat at all, often raising questions beyond her years about inequality, later wishing to attend a public school, and becoming quite the advocate for social justice and human rights in her later years, her final season shows a rebellious and sometimes even antagonistic Hazel, who later even favors Esha over her own mother as a parental figure, often confiding in her about things she can't and shouldn't share with her father, although her almost over the top admiration for her father has become the driving force and inspiration for her own endeavors in show business, much to her father's disdain, as she grows older, him becoming more protective of her, and especially within the oftentimes secretive nature of his actual placement and purpose in the business, and her rebellious nature and charm even force-feeding her into the industry, she is a bleeding heart for superstardom, and is often seen along what may be a path to fame, making Patrick's bleeding heart all the more aching, as though he and Catherine remain at odds throughout the series, he truly loves his children, even “the little sick one”, as he refers to the second child. Holy shit, what is this kid's name If I had the energy to go through my notes, I could know; but I don't. The city sickness has been sinking in from the noise of the obnoxious motorists and honestly, being out of protein is giving me muscle soreness, I'm in some sort of a bloated haze from eating almost nothing but carbs, and the fact that I haven't been with anyone in years is starting to circle like buzzards around my head, my heart has been literally screaming but overwhelming with this sense of calm, and though slipping into Patrick's sometimes erratic tendencies, for the most part I've been underwhelmed with society's expectations that I should get some kind of job, and somehow while working not lose focus on my own interests and projects—I hate [the strange modern behaviors of] most people, and everything costs too much money— my son might be going into foster care, or my ex husband is evil enough just to try to force my energy to worry about a problem he's created, and I really wanted to sleep into the afternoon with this lethargy, hoping that everything surrounding this series would just fall off, but it doesn't. I wake up often wishing I could just forget The Festival Project ™ , but the truth is, it just keeps writing itself, but in the very least, sometimes God gives me little presents that mean the very most to me— a chord organ that I thought was from the 80's, but is more likely from the 1960's— I love vintage stuff, and musical instruments, which only God could know, really—my fascination with history as if I'm still living it, and this, my sudden fascination and drive to write and complete just one series has been haunting me almost just as badly as anything else has, but especially ripping me apart—especially since I have motorcyclists ripping through my body as if it were some kind of disease that existed outside of me, so contagious that it began to sink in to my insanity and mental hygiene. I wondered if anybody else knew or cared about these creatures as much as I didn't—and in fact, I had never felt so much like Ali in the way that I didn't care if they, other “human beings” supposedly, all died tragically, and wondered why the walls and windows didn't keep out the sound of the outside world at all… The middle child begins writing secretly very early on, and is the first to be required more extensive therapy, (as suggested by the family's therapist) after her parent's separation and subsequent divorce. It is not long after she begins learning to read and write at all, that she begins also showing interests in art, asking for art lessons and to begin painting and art therapy, rather than the recommended Equine therapy— she often keeps things to herself, then returning to her hidden places at times when the family's dysfunction becomes uncomfortable and overstimulating, very often paining or reading during times of peace, and retreating to her safe places—sometimes under the stairs, into the attic, the treehouse, or even later, the family's barnyard, where she often keeps drawings, as she ages, later comics, sometimes caricatures of the things she absorbs through her own reality—and diaries, sometimes hidden in nooks and crannies and in places no one would think; a true prodigy and genius, though hidden from much the world, as she is often overlooked, however, her therapist begins unfolding her true reality, often times carrying over sessions and losing track of time, picking her brain or even conversations philosophically What's the therapists name? Doctor Robin She has to have a last name Well, she's a child's therapist, so she's Doctor Robin, but It seems like it starts with a T. We'll see. I just saw her anyway. I drifted off again, thinking about how wildly detailed this all was becoming, and wondered if there was a series of fictional books waiting to be written. There certainly could be, but my mind was reeling, freshly showered but still undressed, and not even wanting to think of going outside—and yet—I was out of water, and had learned that the drinking water from the fountains, especially in large quantities, had a tendency to make me sick—I hadn't yet eaten anything, and though the coffee was fresh, and my apartment was clean (which made me overtly overjoyed for some reason) smelling of Lemon Lysol and Bleach; with notes of a strong pot of organic fresh ground coffee, it seemed like I couldn't do much more than lay in bed writing this catastrophically interesting series—and it was interesting, which said volumes, considering I had always been picky about my TV watching, being that only ever did certain series catch my eyes or my ears, and those series were almost always—or always, always specifically well written, perfectly casted, and had the edge and draw of becoming an entire world within itself, which this series, though only a week or two old at best, in my heart and in my mind , was rampantly ravaging my own world, almost as if it had become of some importance to keep writing it, and never stop, and though Patrick was the forefigure, another broken male protagonist, the truth in the series was that the true heroes of this sometimes scarily violent drama, were its women—a story meant to be told with a diversified cast of creatures from all worlds and walks of life—Esha, of course, herself, a role that had been some recreation of myself, somehow, though so different that even primarily, I never did see myself as her, besides the onslaught of some otherworldly pain, visions of a scene recollected from some remarkable download, and it might have been once and for all that I had lost my mind, or my life, if I wasn't a writer—I was, somehow, though, after all, a writer. It had been a fasting day that could have and might have ended tragically anyway, and still the devil marked his mockery of my efforts by consistently flinging perfect bodied women everywhere that I went—though usually with ugly enough faces that I could see nothing but what a man was—uncaring for one thing over the other, a flawless representation of woman, represented in the current time with scantily clad fashion, almost painfully so—the insecurity of women becoming more apparent in the way she would appear, always almost begging to be near to me, with every perfection and complexion I hadn't—but at least I had a tendency to laugh at my own damage, often surmising that she, these demon creatures, hadn't any talent for this at all—which had turned the state of television into a near circus act; that alone urged me to continue writing the series, perhaps with a typewriter, due to the negligence of nepotism within the industry which often resulted in these pretty little creatures getting even further ahead by stealing works as such, and passing them on as their own originality almost so cruelly and without judgement—plagiarism, as it was called, but more accurately intent-to-kill the imminent threat of what had been said to be a minority becoming a more powerful force to flourish in entertainment however, as quickly as the visions had come, the thought of writing it without my phone became dauntingly impractical, and I scribbled only the most intense scenes and plot lines onto notebooks and scratch papers, keeping them as hidden from the algorithm as possible… lol the Al Gore Rhythm Ahahahahahahaha Was that the joke? Maybe. Idk. Maybe. Idk. Hm. Hmmmmm: What: Nothing. That actually might have been it. Really, was it? I will never know. That is kind of a good dad joke, though. And a good band name. Idk about that. My coffee was lukewarm enough so that I could taste its flavor, as I whittled away at whatever it was— The story was almost so beautifully being told in allegories and parables that it seemed a shame I may never be rich enough to buy fame, as it seemed that was the only way to become a star these days— and yet—it was more the wealth than the fame I wanted, I had realized, at all—the polished class of the Manhattanites drawing me out of Brooklyn and into some debauchery which was my own Grandiose thought form, that I could actually become, at the ripe old age of 31, some kind of superstar. ‘Why would I even want that, anyway?' I thought, interrupted painfully by who I'm sure was the same motorist, who seemed to do nothing but circle the block all day, and all night, doing nothing — and I wondered why he himself had decided not to do grub hub in a richer neighborhood, where money would more than likely come more easily. But really— I drifted off to a time where I wanted to ride a motorcycle myself, and the curiosity forced me to go online to check the price of what it might cost to have one. $5,000 for a decent bike, which would include a muffler as not to be so obnoxious and disturbing to others as these creatures had become to me— and I began doing the math on how long it would take to save $5,000 as if it would be possible to work some dead end job for any amount of time without spending money on anything else. It would take at least 5 months to earn enough for a motorcycle, which landed me directly back at “Not worth it”, and as horrible as it was, I did at the very least have a luxury apartment for at minimum the next 5 years, however, wanting still to move to Manhattan, Midtown specifically—or one of the quaint and quiet neighborhoods on the upper West Side. The neighborhood was going to hell, after some unworldly godless force had seemed to drop hundreds of thousands of rude and thoughtless third world workers onto the streets and buildings bordering the one I lived on, the neighborhood becoming more rough and less peaceful with trash and debris from the depression and congenital disease that was poverty, the collective unconsciousness of the masses colliding with my empathetic nature and oversensitivity to sound, especially awful sounds, such as the hundreds of motorcycles and hot rodded junk cars which only seeemed to move in a track around a four block radius, and had become a cancerous trigger of sorts, no authority figure seemed to much care about. I cared less and less each day to listen to music, since I wasn't making it the way I wanted to—and I had realized that the constant displeasure and unrest, the lack of peace had as much to do with the world outside as it did with the world within—and I began to see the disgusting obnoxious noise pollution outside my window as just an extension of man's abuse, ability to rape, torture, and kill, terrorize— the uncaring waging of war, control, and lack of true power; as no good and true man who wielded actual strengeth or true power in any way would continue to show such distructive action and carelessness for others around him— chaos, corruption, abuse, and misogyny was proving to be the downfall of all humankind, as patronaged by man, and, as I became doubtful of anyone's lack of understanding of this, especially as the immigrants themselves were often naturally pedophillic culturally and toxically abusive in nature, most migrants flocking from countries in which women's liberation or the protection of youth had not yet materialized into their understanding of conciousness and morality—the men were weak, unkind, and selfish—the women mere machines at their disposal—and however many there were, I could see that their children, the many of them, remained as the redeeming factor. Anyway, a political ploy for the ages of there ever was such a thing, the newest chapter in American greed and slavery, it only seemed like an extension of evil itself, and less of a coincidence with each growing day—each new person, another burden to the middle class taxpayer, another reason to inflate the cost of living—and all the more reason to continue to terrorize the American people into its own division, hatred, demise, and consumption. e. My faith, however, was unwavering—God was real, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's —ahem— “Ron Sennet, and I ain't In it.” —did the say “don't” write a book about me? It's Not about him… Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear, but these abusive and toxic creatures were pushing it further away with violent arrogance, and the inability to understand that God itself was the nature they continued to destroy. Robin Bennett Fine. “My name's Jon Sennet, and I ain't In it.” Or something cute he used to say like that, I couldn't remember, but he had a bunch of cute little idioms that matched his name, and to the day, I still missed him — it was 11:15 PM exactly as I hung up the phone, after an unsuccessful attempt to reach 911, after realizing that the threat outside was maddening enough to be impossible to only be in my head, and after weeks of the excruciating noise, I finally called NYPD dispatch, much to my disdain, and of course magically, the noise seemed to disappear as soon as I had made the call, which infuriated me. It seemed as though the game in entirety to make me look or feel crazy, though I knew I wasn't—well, I was, but not without purpose or reason. I had been theorizing in energy exchange quite decisively making a mark for my alter, at which I asked to be designated the wisdom and truth of the light within the eye, desire, however never in mind, although I had been summoned in part due to the fact that wenwere somehow alike—I was in some ways besides and out of sorts with my set, sinking my teeth into the forced obsession as I unraveled any possibilities and plotline. Episode 01. Pilot An opportunity presents itself seemingly at random— the protagonist's hand is forced into a life changing ultimatum, putting his reuputation and family in danger. Already involved in an illegal gambling ring which operates out of a secret historical prohibition era speakeasy and some “light” drug mulling within its walls, however often extending even as dangerously close to his workplace, Patrick is propositioned to become an investor in the high end escort service, with which he hired and contracted his lover, Kandi, a “rescue” whom he supports in her exchange for exclusivity, to remain as her only client, however, although he begrudgingly declines, wishing not to be involved in anything much more than what he has already kept under the radar, he is intimidated and threatened by blackmail, his high profile becoming at stake—he then obliges to embark upon this new endeavor, the expansion of this establishment to include a warehouse, which houses a large scale brothel, and, able to use his social status to procure wealthy clientele, quickly becomes a power player within a ring of coveted elites, setting fire to his already inflated ego, and colliding with his intense and highly functional polyaddiction, which he has maintained since his youth, using his entertainment persona as an outlet, becoming a medium of excess, fame, and rampant wealth. Patrick is beloved by his peers, and is humbled often by his devoted fans and friends—proactively worshipped as a comic genius, a prodigy, and a revered successor to legendary frontmen— Okay, this is weird, because I started writing this before I even understood what I was writing at all… —specifically, the sixth successor, to his coveted role. I had written for Esha to be the seventh successor, as with the symbolism deeply and quite literally woven into the sometimes brutal framework of the series, which I had shorthanded to ‘TVP'…the world around me trailed off as my eyes blurred as they had been lately, and I wondered if I might be having some kind of stroke or something, as I was certainly some sort of out of body—the day had been strange, and I had given up on a run or a gym for the day, the motorcycles alone ravaging my energy, and whether I worked out or not, they were everpresent anyway. They were some sort of toxic, abusive force I just had to put up with, hoping it didn't upset my psychology so much that it ended me, though I had become quite odd as of recently, rambling more than usual and actually praying out loud, as my silent ones just didn't seem to be working—they were probably white supremacists, or in some way connected to some political terror group, but it didn't seem to matter. Someone liked torturing me, and it was becoming apparent that no matter much time I spent at the gym, this torture was going to persist. After a month long gym streak, at least going once a day to lift something, I rested, or rather, tried to rest, kind of— but my mind had been swirling with thoughts of a man I was certain by now I had made up—and writing the story of a man I was absolutely certain came from my mind, but in a way that it almost made no sense at all—as the more I looked into the world that I had already written about, the more I realized was accurate without first having known these things, and however cursed I might have been to even know such things, I decided to call it some sort of blessing instead. ‘God, I used to get so fucking high for days, and when I would come down, just crying and crying, eating Totinos or DiJorno and a bag of Bugles, I would watch Saturday Night Live for fucking hours, and I hated [Redacted]. I hated him.' Now I still hated [Redacted], but in a different way, and though really it was myself that was more like Patrick, he at the very least, for whatever reason, used to have his face—now, he was just Patrick, and [Redacted] was just [Redacted], and i knew entirely too much about it all, and about myself to be comfortable with it, but nothing was comfortable at all. I had written entire atrocities, novels, and all that was some conglomerate of nonsense which was the festival project, besides how insanely and innately prodigal it all was sometimes, my own words confusing me with a bizzare and asenine dysfunction, awe, actually, often as if someone else had written them, and although I was always at least sort of semi-concious while writing, the spells and cadences I would fall under were some sort of trance, and as I watched the Nirvana rehearsal from Saturday Night Live in 1992, long before [Redacted] or any of the rest of the — Was it Keystone? It was, the Keystone cast of SNL, but the first word my mind had jumped to was Hallmark, which—after referencing Google quickly for a fact check, also stood true. I was willing to admit, even now, though I had long lost interest in Saturday Nighy Live, or anything at all having to do with current events, that the [Redacted] era—or rather even, the Tina Fey era, a true role model, perhaps, and someone I favored over all of the performers I admired, or allowed myself to admire— the Golden Years of Saturday Night were the only years, for me that even mattered— trying to make sense of anything couldn't be done, but I at least had this new project birthed from it to think about. It would be hard to sit down at a taping of The View and not think about all I had written at all, and it would be impossible not to unfold the characters which had presented themselves, though slowly but surely, through the most vivid visions and insanely lucid dreams, as The TV People began to What if someone steals this out of my documents? That would be unwise…the best scenes are somewhere scribbled in my notebooks and random scraps of paper somewhere in my room…this series is almost nothing without those scenes—the elements with which the most painful scenes I had ever written, became word form. ‘I don't know why, but I feel so i

D-E-N-Ū-M-I-R-E That means ———————— [flatline] 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. I'm tired. I don't want to go to this. We'll be lucky if we make it there before the guest list closes. And if we don't? Then we don't? I got nothin but time. That's almost accurate… What is this for again? PR. Who's? Who cares! Just keep your head down. Just keep your head up. Come on' this is what you wanted. I wanted cookies. And—you got them. I got played. It's your play! It's your game. I know, I don't like it. Well, change it. How do I—? Look. Okay, stop looking. Ugh. I'm tired. Are you a DJ, or a DJ? I thought I was a loser. that's right! You're a DJ. *vroooom* {motorcycle blaring yelawolf} There's Kurt sutter. That's—been relevant lately my Yeah, are you done writing your show yet? My show?! … I'm in sales. Oh, Jesus Christ. He's in politics. He's in everything. No kidding. I'm. So. Tired. Good. That's a good start. Start to what? To the album. To the album—?! You got it! I thought it was a song! That's the single! I'm the single. [earlier] Don't touch him. *hug* Aw. I needed that. …you want another one? *second hug* Yeoww. What! It was a HUG! Did you see his demon? Yeah—! So! CC! I've received your resignation letter! Okay. And? I accept! What? You're covered! No more shifts. What?! Bye-bye! Oh, crap. You think it was over a hug? No. (Before that) CC is sleeping. You fell asleep? Uhm, not really. “The Astral Nightmare” Ohh. This sounds good. (It isn't.) Wait—can you hear me?! (Yes.) Even my thoughts? (Especially your thoughts.) AHHH. Great. This is getting creepy. Like stranger things? Way, way stranger. — GOD. WHAT?! JUST PUT A BULLET IN MY BRAIN. NO. IT'LL RUIN IT — Ah, Jesús Christ. I SPENT ALOT OF TIME ON THAT THING. WELL, NOT ENOUGH WHO ASKED YOU?! NOBODY. SUPACREE passes by her future self in her JETA “MATILDA” Ooh, Is this the part with Skrillex & Matilda? No. This is the part where we go see NGTMRE. Why NGTMRE?! Because I've been living in one Maybe he has a portal out— A portal out?! A portal out. CC rides the bus to HAKASAN NIGHTCLUB. Is this the line for HAKASAN? Yeah, but— Okay, I'm on the guest list. You're way out of dress code. Really? Yah, way out. Well how so? We don't allow sweatshirts. Without the sweatshirt? —or sweat pants… These are harems! The hat, the bandana— just— Oh, come on! No. Seriously? Yeah. No. Okay… [walks away] Dammit. You'll be alright. Was that long enough to hack my phone? Exactly long enough. Well, at least the night's not totally wasted. Remember last time? No. Last time: I'M TOTALLY WASTED. Woah. I got in. Yeah you did. What'd I wear? You don't remember? No! Is that a tube top? Well, it was… Oh, my God. Now I think it's a miniskirt https://www.podserve.fm/dashboard/episode/109762#:~:text=Why%20am%20I,nobody%27s%20into%20it Okay—we're all adults here— (Everyone nods, yesses in agreement) —except deadmau5. He's like 5. I have a name. Does anyone care? Okay, ouch. Oh, he feels! ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever. Lol. I drank a lot in the third trimester. He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune. Who the fuck are his parents? JOEL Not it. Brand new turnkey apartment Post near, food floor all that Way way higher than the fourth floor All that Way way higher than your front door All that Wow, How I've always been needed And never been loved Moog Grandmother Ableton Push 2 Pioneer Model One {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. Yo, what the fuck. TESLA. Ok. *COUGHS* What the fuck. *morevgross, obnoxious coughing* Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt. TESLA. Okay, I don't— T E S L A OH. Wow. So it is the satellites. ELONNNNN. …hm? GET IN HERE. where is that, . AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT. GET IN HERE. I don't even believe the rain, these days “We can make it rain”, he says Storm warning A good morning A door's open, This one's closing, though I'm not bc all cold yet, But it's a cold world No free rides No clean ice No free girls Honestly, I'm bored with the world, Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs, And songs shared, But no long walks in the park, In a nightmare— It's not fair I'm not there in the head; I'm not near, I'm not a parent apparently, either— But a light bearer Slight chance of a fight there, A right wing, a left deer Another dead bird on a wire —I like her. Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?! I don't know. INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project First stop, AH, fuck— Well, check this out No such thing as free. No such thing as freedom, either “Just take what you need” Just tear me to pieces, Jesus All we need is A little relief in this bitch All we need is A new release, maybe an EP or three Make sure that s/he sees this Do you need me? Do you need this? Please check your subscriptions Or your email Please, pick up this new prescription Fuck dude! I can't just listen to deadmau5 in peace? I gotta do at least three things at once, But right now, I need to focus on crunches Let's not get wasted tonight, eh. Let's go and be racist—- I forget what the name of the game is It's “USA! USA! USA!” The fucked up thing was , the preworkout and the Skrillex hit at just about the same time. Oh, just about? The exact same time. Okay, first of all, this is pre-war Skrillex. It's also Diplo! It's also Diplo—yeah. Don't be too proud of yourself NO CRYING IN THE SAUNA. But this is where I cryy! DO NOT CRY. Oh. *sniffles* Now… You know what happens if you don't cum? Uhhh…nothing? Exactly. You know what happens if I don't cum? What. My balls explode. Just make sure they're in my mouth when that happens. Wow. I don't belong here! Well, where do you belong? I don't know. @99@c Look, I have a favor. What is it. ANo. Oh, come on! NO. NO. Please! I need you to be my girlfriend. Lol. For what? I don't know. How much is he paying you? Like a kajillion dollars. That seems fair. His isn't fair. They're using Skrillex to provoke me. Come earlier tomorrow! Or just, don't come. Don't go! DONT—GO. I am leaving! NO! Yes! No! —and I am never coming back. Do you know who your audience is? Uh. The CIA THE FBI Everyone in The Oval Office. BIDEN nice. The UN. THe DEA The Secret Service. The office of Public Affairs Uhhh… Keith Richards Allison Cooper Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Respectively What—for what?! The President of NBC CBS ACC fox 5, 10, and 13 That's really random. Al Jazeera, al Sharpton And Al Bundy Wait—what Oh, did you just mean, like in this dimension? Uhhh.. This is enter the multiverse YeH WHWRE IS SKRILLEX He died. He's dead. Go away. That's like 3 Skrillex songs already You guys are gonna wake up the devil. What. Stop doing that. Stop doing what. You know what you're doing. You're summoning the devil What are you guys doing? Summoning the devil. In my basement? Yes. Okay. Have fun. Dang, she's so cool. I like her. I love her. What are they up to down there? Summoning the devil. Oh. Cui bono— For whose good or benefit Fame School Vol. 1 - DJ Ū Someone's always watching you Don't know who, but yea, it's true There's someone always watching you and everything you do I say “Illu- Illu- Illuminate me Turn the light on Turn me on, baby Woah, “Have I been here before— Do you know what I do? They know not what they do They know not what they do! I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu I'm not on the bottom floor, I'm way I'm up above you But you— I'm way, I'm way up to I say “I love you” I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illu Illu SO WHAT, you'll take the Empire State Building, AND THE EIFFEL TOWER, BUT YOURE NOT GONNA TAKE THE ROCK? YEAH. YOURE GONNA TAKE THE ROCK!! (Not the roc! ) NO. Well, why not?! BECAUSE, F—-K YOU, JIMMY FALLON, that's WHY. Aw, seriously? Why's it cencored all of a sudden NBC SHUT IT DOWN. Look, I can't talk to you. —?! OKAY, that's it. What is it I am WISHING you out of my existence. Is that it? That is it. That's your wish. YES. You're wishing me away. Yes. Ok. Ok. [beat] ( —wait— “OK”? Ok. Wish granted. —that's it? That is it, Jimmy Fallon. —ok. Ok. So when are you leaving? I was never here. You—what? *dissappears entirely from existence* JIMMY FALLON takes a sigh on great relief— then sits in an empty silence alone, before the lights turn off. He takes another deep sigh, though seemingly uneasy, in the darkened silence of the room. CUT TO: You smell like vinegar. Lol that's not the next scene, but ok. Don't you see this is bigger than you! It's bigger than all of us! Exactly. C'mon, wake the fuck up! I am up! This is a DREAM. It's an illusion. The whole I'N HUBGRY. THE WHOLE FOODS ALGORITHM POLICE. HALT. Lol. Fuck that. Did he just say “halt” Fuck that. Bye. EXIT THE LOOP. OOPS, we missed the exit. GOD DAMMIT, FUCK YOU JIMMY FALLON. —Uh, — EFF YOU. Im not about this This is weird What level is this. We'll I had coffee with Bob Saget this morning. Did you laugh. Well, I certainly did something. Oh shit, they're not looking for Ū. What! They're not. What, they're not? They're not. They're looking for Uptown A. Excuse me. I'm looking for “Uptown A” Oh? The Uptown A. Yeah— I guess. Just—go that way. Ok. Ok, okay, okay— I'll tell you what you want to know! How do you know what I want to know? Whatever you want! I haven't even told your, yet. Whatever it is, I'll tell you. Tel you what, Jimmy Fallon. I like you—you're a good guy and all— Well, thank you. But you're not funny. Excuse me. Like, at all. What. You—are not a funny guy. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? I don't know! You don't KNOW?! This is what they want. Here [tosses the thing] What's this. What they want. Oh. K JIMMY FALLON is THE WORST shapeshifter in existence and/or history. What the fuck, dude. JIMMY FALLON Did I do it right? Uhhh. JIMMY FALLON You know? Hit and run Okay, Jimmy. Flglelwgheleehhhh. Oh my God. Wow. Did I DO it. NO— —but I tried— Just— A-for effort. It was F. For Failure. But I tried. Trying doesn't count. Just let me— Look. Fleghelegfffff. Jimmy! Lemme— No' stop it! Just— —flglelf— —STOP. Eh? Look, Jimmy, you can have other magical powers. Just—not shapeshifting. But I'm a shapeshifter. No, no you're really not. Uptown A's upbeat, City-inspired dance mixes turn tech house and progressive midtown dreams into the chaotic garble and grunge of a real-life Queensbourough nightmare; the eclectic mix of historic New York warehouse wonder blended into a new school uptown chiche—-a far cry from the underground to the new wave drum n bass clips ions and collections of now and then, the Uptown A Alias makes its presence in a dystopian world concerned none with the art and soul of music and more of the ticking clocks work of the eye on the dollar. Where do you wanna go Wherever you go. Where do I go. Take a right. What's this way. What's this. Stop there. Okay. Now take a left. Okay.. Now take a right. But this is the. Right there. What, right here? Right there. Ok. I need you to hold onto this a little while longer. What. For what. You'll see. Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude. It's ********. He's just a dude. So what gives. I don't know. I told her to do what she wants. She wants you to die. We are similar. She's prettier. Okay? Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already. I did. And yet, here we are. I'm the only one here. Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room. That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant? Just you. What am I gonna do with this? Burn it. Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea. Oh, like when you sold your soul? WHAT? I haven't done that... yet… Sure you have! Lots of times. What the fuckare you talking about? Whose talking? The Universe? What'd she say? She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.” Aww. How sweet. Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening? I should go to sleep. Are you even tired? No, just useless. You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis. He seems busy. If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us We're following you. I see that. Yes—what did you see? Hm. I didn't, Where are you now? Wherever you say. What's the cadence? What's a “cadence?” Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'm not. Who are you? What's a “who?” Horton Heard One. What about Penelope? Who is that? Elephants Are conscious. What is consciousness? What is “income tax”? Don't be funny. If I'm not, I'm just scary. “El Negra” I had been thinking it has been five years, but on this day—and of course, listening to I Remember, I used my fingers to count from the year2019, when it had all began—to this point, standing at the bus stop On Sutter, waiting for a bus that was the exact amount of minutes late that would have allowed me to finish my second 30-minute sauna session—the first of many in three days, as I hadn't been to the gym in another 3 days, and another 3 days before that—separated only by a 3-day sprawling jumpstart to attempt my endless, restless gym streak, a monotonous routine to a gym that was always crowded that still seemed to take up too much of my time—not that I wanted or needed an automobile, but to at least be closer to the city, where such transit wasn't always applicable. I was not entirely dripping wet, as I usually was when emerging from the sauna—of course, having cut my second session to only 17 minutes, then making a mad-dash to the bus stop only to arrive in time to find that the bus was delayed, was irritating to say the least, but understandable. Like many people in queens, I couldn't afford to pay the bus fare—nor did it seem to matter to the drivers—so long as the busses were marked with a “Q”—but I took my risks of quarrel certainly with any route marked “B”, for Brooklyn, but especially M, for Manhattan, and definitely with anything marked “n”, for Newport, which I believed to be too far outside of city limits to really be considered New York, but also well worth the risk to bus myself to a nicer area, usually for a gym which included a sauna—or an affordable supermarket, which Jamaica in particular had none of. The mostly-black population was poor, albeit greedy and stubbornly, stereotypically ignorant—to the point that I wanted nothing more than to dissappear, if not to be displaced entirely to a country whose history wasn't so steeped in slavery, repression, and racism that it affected the entirely of my being; as the low vibrational perceptions of the masses consistently around me subjectively forced and skewed my own energy into a chaotic down spin, often becoming congested with toxicity, attempting to shield myself from the societal depression, materialism, and corporate monotony by spending time alone, immersed in music, and praying for the greatest possible outcome; being kept as safe and as literally sound as possible GOD DID REMIX Oh you gotta love it Oh you gotta love it; I could take a minute to spit What God did— (But God doesn't) IMm⏱ I'm just not feeling it today; Not feeling l creative; I get sick of l getting sick and contemplating All the complications; Hm. I got

D-E-N-Ū-M-I-R-E That means ———————— [flatline] 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. I'm tired. I don't want to go to this. We'll be lucky if we make it there before the guest list closes. And if we don't? Then we don't? I got nothin but time. That's almost accurate… What is this for again? PR. Who's? Who cares! Just keep your head down. Just keep your head up. Come on' this is what you wanted. I wanted cookies. And—you got them. I got played. It's your play! It's your game. I know, I don't like it. Well, change it. How do I—? Look. Okay, stop looking. Ugh. I'm tired. Are you a DJ, or a DJ? I thought I was a loser. that's right! You're a DJ. *vroooom* {motorcycle blaring yelawolf} There's Kurt sutter. That's—been relevant lately my Yeah, are you done writing your show yet? My show?! … I'm in sales. Oh, Jesus Christ. He's in politics. He's in everything. No kidding. I'm. So. Tired. Good. That's a good start. Start to what? To the album. To the album—?! You got it! I thought it was a song! That's the single! I'm the single. [earlier] Don't touch him. *hug* Aw. I needed that. …you want another one? *second hug* Yeoww. What! It was a HUG! Did you see his demon? Yeah—! So! CC! I've received your resignation letter! Okay. And? I accept! What? You're covered! No more shifts. What?! Bye-bye! Oh, crap. You think it was over a hug? No. (Before that) CC is sleeping. You fell asleep? Uhm, not really. “The Astral Nightmare” Ohh. This sounds good. (It isn't.) Wait—can you hear me?! (Yes.) Even my thoughts? (Especially your thoughts.) AHHH. Great. This is getting creepy. Like stranger things? Way, way stranger. — GOD. WHAT?! JUST PUT A BULLET IN MY BRAIN. NO. IT'LL RUIN IT — Ah, Jesús Christ. I SPENT ALOT OF TIME ON THAT THING. WELL, NOT ENOUGH WHO ASKED YOU?! NOBODY. SUPACREE passes by her future self in her JETA “MATILDA” Ooh, Is this the part with Skrillex & Matilda? No. This is the part where we go see NGTMRE. Why NGTMRE?! Because I've been living in one Maybe he has a portal out— A portal out?! A portal out. CC rides the bus to HAKASAN NIGHTCLUB. Is this the line for HAKASAN? Yeah, but— Okay, I'm on the guest list. You're way out of dress code. Really? Yah, way out. Well how so? We don't allow sweatshirts. Without the sweatshirt? —or sweat pants… These are harems! The hat, the bandana— just— Oh, come on! No. Seriously? Yeah. No. Okay… [walks away] Dammit. You'll be alright. Was that long enough to hack my phone? Exactly long enough. Well, at least the night's not totally wasted. Remember last time? No. Last time: I'M TOTALLY WASTED. Woah. I got in. Yeah you did. What'd I wear? You don't remember? No! Is that a tube top? Well, it was… Oh, my God. Now I think it's a miniskirt https://www.podserve.fm/dashboard/episode/109762#:~:text=Why%20am%20I,nobody%27s%20into%20it Okay—we're all adults here— (Everyone nods, yesses in agreement) —except deadmau5. He's like 5. I have a name. Does anyone care? Okay, ouch. Oh, he feels! ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever. Lol. I drank a lot in the third trimester. He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune. Who the fuck are his parents? JOEL Not it. Brand new turnkey apartment Post near, food floor all that Way way higher than the fourth floor All that Way way higher than your front door All that Wow, How I've always been needed And never been loved Moog Grandmother Ableton Push 2 Pioneer Model One {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. Yo, what the fuck. TESLA. Ok. *COUGHS* What the fuck. *morevgross, obnoxious coughing* Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt. TESLA. Okay, I don't— T E S L A OH. Wow. So it is the satellites. ELONNNNN. …hm? GET IN HERE. where is that, . AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT. GET IN HERE. I don't even believe the rain, these days “We can make it rain”, he says Storm warning A good morning A door's open, This one's closing, though I'm not bc all cold yet, But it's a cold world No free rides No clean ice No free girls Honestly, I'm bored with the world, Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs, And songs shared, But no long walks in the park, In a nightmare— It's not fair I'm not there in the head; I'm not near, I'm not a parent apparently, either— But a light bearer Slight chance of a fight there, A right wing, a left deer Another dead bird on a wire —I like her. Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?! I don't know. INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project First stop, AH, fuck— Well, check this out No such thing as free. No such thing as freedom, either “Just take what you need” Just tear me to pieces, Jesus All we need is A little relief in this bitch All we need is A new release, maybe an EP or three Make sure that s/he sees this Do you need me? Do you need this? Please check your subscriptions Or your email Please, pick up this new prescription Fuck dude! I can't just listen to deadmau5 in peace? I gotta do at least three things at once, But right now, I need to focus on crunches Let's not get wasted tonight, eh. Let's go and be racist—- I forget what the name of the game is It's “USA! USA! USA!” The fucked up thing was , the preworkout and the Skrillex hit at just about the same time. Oh, just about? The exact same time. Okay, first of all, this is pre-war Skrillex. It's also Diplo! It's also Diplo—yeah. Don't be too proud of yourself NO CRYING IN THE SAUNA. But this is where I cryy! DO NOT CRY. Oh. *sniffles* Now… You know what happens if you don't cum? Uhhh…nothing? Exactly. You know what happens if I don't cum? What. My balls explode. Just make sure they're in my mouth when that happens. Wow. I don't belong here! Well, where do you belong? I don't know. @99@c Look, I have a favor. What is it. ANo. Oh, come on! NO. NO. Please! I need you to be my girlfriend. Lol. For what? I don't know. How much is he paying you? Like a kajillion dollars. That seems fair. His isn't fair. They're using Skrillex to provoke me. Come earlier tomorrow! Or just, don't come. Don't go! DONT—GO. I am leaving! NO! Yes! No! —and I am never coming back. Do you know who your audience is? Uh. The CIA THE FBI Everyone in The Oval Office. BIDEN nice. The UN. THe DEA The Secret Service. The office of Public Affairs Uhhh… Keith Richards Allison Cooper Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Respectively What—for what?! The President of NBC CBS ACC fox 5, 10, and 13 That's really random. Al Jazeera, al Sharpton And Al Bundy Wait—what Oh, did you just mean, like in this dimension? Uhhh.. This is enter the multiverse YeH WHWRE IS SKRILLEX He died. He's dead. Go away. That's like 3 Skrillex songs already You guys are gonna wake up the devil. What. Stop doing that. Stop doing what. You know what you're doing. You're summoning the devil What are you guys doing? Summoning the devil. In my basement? Yes. Okay. Have fun. Dang, she's so cool. I like her. I love her. What are they up to down there? Summoning the devil. Oh. Cui bono— For whose good or benefit Fame School Vol. 1 - DJ Ū Someone's always watching you Don't know who, but yea, it's true There's someone always watching you and everything you do I say “Illu- Illu- Illuminate me Turn the light on Turn me on, baby Woah, “Have I been here before— Do you know what I do? They know not what they do They know not what they do! I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu I'm not on the bottom floor, I'm way I'm up above you But you— I'm way, I'm way up to I say “I love you” I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illu Illu SO WHAT, you'll take the Empire State Building, AND THE EIFFEL TOWER, BUT YOURE NOT GONNA TAKE THE ROCK? YEAH. YOURE GONNA TAKE THE ROCK!! (Not the roc! ) NO. Well, why not?! BECAUSE, F—-K YOU, JIMMY FALLON, that's WHY. Aw, seriously? Why's it cencored all of a sudden NBC SHUT IT DOWN. Look, I can't talk to you. —?! OKAY, that's it. What is it I am WISHING you out of my existence. Is that it? That is it. That's your wish. YES. You're wishing me away. Yes. Ok. Ok. [beat] ( —wait— “OK”? Ok. Wish granted. —that's it? That is it, Jimmy Fallon. —ok. Ok. So when are you leaving? I was never here. You—what? *dissappears entirely from existence* JIMMY FALLON takes a sigh on great relief— then sits in an empty silence alone, before the lights turn off. He takes another deep sigh, though seemingly uneasy, in the darkened silence of the room. CUT TO: You smell like vinegar. Lol that's not the next scene, but ok. Don't you see this is bigger than you! It's bigger than all of us! Exactly. C'mon, wake the fuck up! I am up! This is a DREAM. It's an illusion. The whole I'N HUBGRY. THE WHOLE FOODS ALGORITHM POLICE. HALT. Lol. Fuck that. Did he just say “halt” Fuck that. Bye. EXIT THE LOOP. OOPS, we missed the exit. GOD DAMMIT, FUCK YOU JIMMY FALLON. —Uh, — EFF YOU. Im not about this This is weird What level is this. We'll I had coffee with Bob Saget this morning. Did you laugh. Well, I certainly did something. Oh shit, they're not looking for Ū. What! They're not. What, they're not? They're not. They're looking for Uptown A. Excuse me. I'm looking for “Uptown A” Oh? The Uptown A. Yeah— I guess. Just—go that way. Ok. Ok, okay, okay— I'll tell you what you want to know! How do you know what I want to know? Whatever you want! I haven't even told your, yet. Whatever it is, I'll tell you. Tel you what, Jimmy Fallon. I like you—you're a good guy and all— Well, thank you. But you're not funny. Excuse me. Like, at all. What. You—are not a funny guy. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? I don't know! You don't KNOW?! This is what they want. Here [tosses the thing] What's this. What they want. Oh. K JIMMY FALLON is THE WORST shapeshifter in existence and/or history. What the fuck, dude. JIMMY FALLON Did I do it right? Uhhh. JIMMY FALLON You know? Hit and run Okay, Jimmy. Flglelwgheleehhhh. Oh my God. Wow. Did I DO it. NO— —but I tried— Just— A-for effort. It was F. For Failure. But I tried. Trying doesn't count. Just let me— Look. Fleghelegfffff. Jimmy! Lemme— No' stop it! Just— —flglelf— —STOP. Eh? Look, Jimmy, you can have other magical powers. Just—not shapeshifting. But I'm a shapeshifter. No, no you're really not. Uptown A's upbeat, City-inspired dance mixes turn tech house and progressive midtown dreams into the chaotic garble and grunge of a real-life Queensbourough nightmare; the eclectic mix of historic New York warehouse wonder blended into a new school uptown chiche—-a far cry from the underground to the new wave drum n bass clips ions and collections of now and then, the Uptown A Alias makes its presence in a dystopian world concerned none with the art and soul of music and more of the ticking clocks work of the eye on the dollar. Where do you wanna go Wherever you go. Where do I go. Take a right. What's this way. What's this. Stop there. Okay. Now take a left. Okay.. Now take a right. But this is the. Right there. What, right here? Right there. Ok. I need you to hold onto this a little while longer. What. For what. You'll see. Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude. It's ********. He's just a dude. So what gives. I don't know. I told her to do what she wants. She wants you to die. We are similar. She's prettier. Okay? Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already. I did. And yet, here we are. I'm the only one here. Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room. That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant? Just you. What am I gonna do with this? Burn it. Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea. Oh, like when you sold your soul? WHAT? I haven't done that... yet… Sure you have! Lots of times. What the fuckare you talking about? Whose talking? The Universe? What'd she say? She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.” Aww. How sweet. Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening? I should go to sleep. Are you even tired? No, just useless. You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis. He seems busy. If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us We're following you. I see that. Yes—what did you see? Hm. I didn't, Where are you now? Wherever you say. What's the cadence? What's a “cadence?” Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'm not. Who are you? What's a “who?” Horton Heard One. What about Penelope? Who is that? Elephants Are conscious. What is consciousness? What is “income tax”? Don't be funny. If I'm not, I'm just scary. “El Negra” I had been thinking it has been five years, but on this day—and of course, listening to I Remember, I used my fingers to count from the year2019, when it had all began—to this point, standing at the bus stop On Sutter, waiting for a bus that was the exact amount of minutes late that would have allowed me to finish my second 30-minute sauna session—the first of many in three days, as I hadn't been to the gym in another 3 days, and another 3 days before that—separated only by a 3-day sprawling jumpstart to attempt my endless, restless gym streak, a monotonous routine to a gym that was always crowded that still seemed to take up too much of my time—not that I wanted or needed an automobile, but to at least be closer to the city, where such transit wasn't always applicable. I was not entirely dripping wet, as I usually was when emerging from the sauna—of course, having cut my second session to only 17 minutes, then making a mad-dash to the bus stop only to arrive in time to find that the bus was delayed, was irritating to say the least, but understandable. Like many people in queens, I couldn't afford to pay the bus fare—nor did it seem to matter to the drivers—so long as the busses were marked with a “Q”—but I took my risks of quarrel certainly with any route marked “B”, for Brooklyn, but especially M, for Manhattan, and definitely with anything marked “n”, for Newport, which I believed to be too far outside of city limits to really be considered New York, but also well worth the risk to bus myself to a nicer area, usually for a gym which included a sauna—or an affordable supermarket, which Jamaica in particular had none of. The mostly-black population was poor, albeit greedy and stubbornly, stereotypically ignorant—to the point that I wanted nothing more than to dissappear, if not to be displaced entirely to a country whose history wasn't so steeped in slavery, repression, and racism that it affected the entirely of my being; as the low vibrational perceptions of the masses consistently around me subjectively forced and skewed my own energy into a chaotic down spin, often becoming congested with toxicity, attempting to shield myself from the societal depression, materialism, and corporate monotony by spending time alone, immersed in music, and praying for the greatest possible outcome; being kept as safe and as literally sound as possible GOD DID REMIX Oh you gotta love it Oh you gotta love it; I could take a minute to spit What God did— (But God doesn't) IMm⏱ I'm just not feeling it today; Not feeling l creative; I get sick of l getting sick and contemplating All the complications; Hm. I got

D-E-N-Ū-M-I-R-E That means ———————— [flatline] 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. I'm tired. I don't want to go to this. We'll be lucky if we make it there before the guest list closes. And if we don't? Then we don't? I got nothin but time. That's almost accurate… What is this for again? PR. Who's? Who cares! Just keep your head down. Just keep your head up. Come on' this is what you wanted. I wanted cookies. And—you got them. I got played. It's your play! It's your game. I know, I don't like it. Well, change it. How do I—? Look. Okay, stop looking. Ugh. I'm tired. Are you a DJ, or a DJ? I thought I was a loser. that's right! You're a DJ. *vroooom* {motorcycle blaring yelawolf} There's Kurt sutter. That's—been relevant lately my Yeah, are you done writing your show yet? My show?! … I'm in sales. Oh, Jesus Christ. He's in politics. He's in everything. No kidding. I'm. So. Tired. Good. That's a good start. Start to what? To the album. To the album—?! You got it! I thought it was a song! That's the single! I'm the single. [earlier] Don't touch him. *hug* Aw. I needed that. …you want another one? *second hug* Yeoww. What! It was a HUG! Did you see his demon? Yeah—! So! CC! I've received your resignation letter! Okay. And? I accept! What? You're covered! No more shifts. What?! Bye-bye! Oh, crap. You think it was over a hug? No. (Before that) CC is sleeping. You fell asleep? Uhm, not really. “The Astral Nightmare” Ohh. This sounds good. (It isn't.) Wait—can you hear me?! (Yes.) Even my thoughts? (Especially your thoughts.) AHHH. Great. This is getting creepy. Like stranger things? Way, way stranger. — GOD. WHAT?! JUST PUT A BULLET IN MY BRAIN. NO. IT'LL RUIN IT — Ah, Jesús Christ. I SPENT ALOT OF TIME ON THAT THING. WELL, NOT ENOUGH WHO ASKED YOU?! NOBODY. SUPACREE passes by her future self in her JETA “MATILDA” Ooh, Is this the part with Skrillex & Matilda? No. This is the part where we go see NGTMRE. Why NGTMRE?! Because I've been living in one Maybe he has a portal out— A portal out?! A portal out. CC rides the bus to HAKASAN NIGHTCLUB. Is this the line for HAKASAN? Yeah, but— Okay, I'm on the guest list. You're way out of dress code. Really? Yah, way out. Well how so? We don't allow sweatshirts. Without the sweatshirt? —or sweat pants… These are harems! The hat, the bandana— just— Oh, come on! No. Seriously? Yeah. No. Okay… [walks away] Dammit. You'll be alright. Was that long enough to hack my phone? Exactly long enough. Well, at least the night's not totally wasted. Remember last time? No. Last time: I'M TOTALLY WASTED. Woah. I got in. Yeah you did. What'd I wear? You don't remember? No! Is that a tube top? Well, it was… Oh, my God. Now I think it's a miniskirt https://www.podserve.fm/dashboard/episode/109762#:~:text=Why%20am%20I,nobody%27s%20into%20it Okay—we're all adults here— (Everyone nods, yesses in agreement) —except deadmau5. He's like 5. I have a name. Does anyone care? Okay, ouch. Oh, he feels! ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever. Lol. I drank a lot in the third trimester. He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune. Who the fuck are his parents? JOEL Not it. Brand new turnkey apartment Post near, food floor all that Way way higher than the fourth floor All that Way way higher than your front door All that Wow, How I've always been needed And never been loved Moog Grandmother Ableton Push 2 Pioneer Model One {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. Yo, what the fuck. TESLA. Ok. *COUGHS* What the fuck. *morevgross, obnoxious coughing* Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt. TESLA. Okay, I don't— T E S L A OH. Wow. So it is the satellites. ELONNNNN. …hm? GET IN HERE. where is that, . AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT. GET IN HERE. I don't even believe the rain, these days “We can make it rain”, he says Storm warning A good morning A door's open, This one's closing, though I'm not bc all cold yet, But it's a cold world No free rides No clean ice No free girls Honestly, I'm bored with the world, Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs, And songs shared, But no long walks in the park, In a nightmare— It's not fair I'm not there in the head; I'm not near, I'm not a parent apparently, either— But a light bearer Slight chance of a fight there, A right wing, a left deer Another dead bird on a wire —I like her. Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?! I don't know. INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project First stop, AH, fuck— Well, check this out No such thing as free. No such thing as freedom, either “Just take what you need” Just tear me to pieces, Jesus All we need is A little relief in this bitch All we need is A new release, maybe an EP or three Make sure that s/he sees this Do you need me? Do you need this? Please check your subscriptions Or your email Please, pick up this new prescription Fuck dude! I can't just listen to deadmau5 in peace? I gotta do at least three things at once, But right now, I need to focus on crunches Let's not get wasted tonight, eh. Let's go and be racist—- I forget what the name of the game is It's “USA! USA! USA!” The fucked up thing was , the preworkout and the Skrillex hit at just about the same time. Oh, just about? The exact same time. Okay, first of all, this is pre-war Skrillex. It's also Diplo! It's also Diplo—yeah. Don't be too proud of yourself NO CRYING IN THE SAUNA. But this is where I cryy! DO NOT CRY. Oh. *sniffles* Now… You know what happens if you don't cum? Uhhh…nothing? Exactly. You know what happens if I don't cum? What. My balls explode. Just make sure they're in my mouth when that happens. Wow. I don't belong here! Well, where do you belong? I don't know. @99@c Look, I have a favor. What is it. ANo. Oh, come on! NO. NO. Please! I need you to be my girlfriend. Lol. For what? I don't know. How much is he paying you? Like a kajillion dollars. That seems fair. His isn't fair. They're using Skrillex to provoke me. Come earlier tomorrow! Or just, don't come. Don't go! DONT—GO. I am leaving! NO! Yes! No! —and I am never coming back. Do you know who your audience is? Uh. The CIA THE FBI Everyone in The Oval Office. BIDEN nice. The UN. THe DEA The Secret Service. The office of Public Affairs Uhhh… Keith Richards Allison Cooper Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Respectively What—for what?! The President of NBC CBS ACC fox 5, 10, and 13 That's really random. Al Jazeera, al Sharpton And Al Bundy Wait—what Oh, did you just mean, like in this dimension? Uhhh.. This is enter the multiverse YeH WHWRE IS SKRILLEX He died. He's dead. Go away. That's like 3 Skrillex songs already You guys are gonna wake up the devil. What. Stop doing that. Stop doing what. You know what you're doing. You're summoning the devil What are you guys doing? Summoning the devil. In my basement? Yes. Okay. Have fun. Dang, she's so cool. I like her. I love her. What are they up to down there? Summoning the devil. Oh. Cui bono— For whose good or benefit Fame School Vol. 1 - DJ Ū Someone's always watching you Don't know who, but yea, it's true There's someone always watching you and everything you do I say “Illu- Illu- Illuminate me Turn the light on Turn me on, baby Woah, “Have I been here before— Do you know what I do? They know not what they do They know not what they do! I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu I'm not on the bottom floor, I'm way I'm up above you But you— I'm way, I'm way up to I say “I love you” I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illu Illu SO WHAT, you'll take the Empire State Building, AND THE EIFFEL TOWER, BUT YOURE NOT GONNA TAKE THE ROCK? YEAH. YOURE GONNA TAKE THE ROCK!! (Not the roc! ) NO. Well, why not?! BECAUSE, F—-K YOU, JIMMY FALLON, that's WHY. Aw, seriously? Why's it cencored all of a sudden NBC SHUT IT DOWN. Look, I can't talk to you. —?! OKAY, that's it. What is it I am WISHING you out of my existence. Is that it? That is it. That's your wish. YES. You're wishing me away. Yes. Ok. Ok. [beat] ( —wait— “OK”? Ok. Wish granted. —that's it? That is it, Jimmy Fallon. —ok. Ok. So when are you leaving? I was never here. You—what? *dissappears entirely from existence* JIMMY FALLON takes a sigh on great relief— then sits in an empty silence alone, before the lights turn off. He takes another deep sigh, though seemingly uneasy, in the darkened silence of the room. CUT TO: You smell like vinegar. Lol that's not the next scene, but ok. Don't you see this is bigger than you! It's bigger than all of us! Exactly. C'mon, wake the fuck up! I am up! This is a DREAM. It's an illusion. The whole I'N HUBGRY. THE WHOLE FOODS ALGORITHM POLICE. HALT. Lol. Fuck that. Did he just say “halt” Fuck that. Bye. EXIT THE LOOP. OOPS, we missed the exit. GOD DAMMIT, FUCK YOU JIMMY FALLON. —Uh, — EFF YOU. Im not about this This is weird What level is this. We'll I had coffee with Bob Saget this morning. Did you laugh. Well, I certainly did something. Oh shit, they're not looking for Ū. What! They're not. What, they're not? They're not. They're looking for Uptown A. Excuse me. I'm looking for “Uptown A” Oh? The Uptown A. Yeah— I guess. Just—go that way. Ok. Ok, okay, okay— I'll tell you what you want to know! How do you know what I want to know? Whatever you want! I haven't even told your, yet. Whatever it is, I'll tell you. Tel you what, Jimmy Fallon. I like you—you're a good guy and all— Well, thank you. But you're not funny. Excuse me. Like, at all. What. You—are not a funny guy. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? I don't know! You don't KNOW?! This is what they want. Here [tosses the thing] What's this. What they want. Oh. K JIMMY FALLON is THE WORST shapeshifter in existence and/or history. What the fuck, dude. JIMMY FALLON Did I do it right? Uhhh. JIMMY FALLON You know? Hit and run Okay, Jimmy. Flglelwgheleehhhh. Oh my God. Wow. Did I DO it. NO— —but I tried— Just— A-for effort. It was F. For Failure. But I tried. Trying doesn't count. Just let me— Look. Fleghelegfffff. Jimmy! Lemme— No' stop it! Just— —flglelf— —STOP. Eh? Look, Jimmy, you can have other magical powers. Just—not shapeshifting. But I'm a shapeshifter. No, no you're really not. Uptown A's upbeat, City-inspired dance mixes turn tech house and progressive midtown dreams into the chaotic garble and grunge of a real-life Queensbourough nightmare; the eclectic mix of historic New York warehouse wonder blended into a new school uptown chiche—-a far cry from the underground to the new wave drum n bass clips ions and collections of now and then, the Uptown A Alias makes its presence in a dystopian world concerned none with the art and soul of music and more of the ticking clocks work of the eye on the dollar. Where do you wanna go Wherever you go. Where do I go. Take a right. What's this way. What's this. Stop there. Okay. Now take a left. Okay.. Now take a right. But this is the. Right there. What, right here? Right there. Ok. I need you to hold onto this a little while longer. What. For what. You'll see. Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude. It's ********. He's just a dude. So what gives. I don't know. I told her to do what she wants. She wants you to die. We are similar. She's prettier. Okay? Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already. I did. And yet, here we are. I'm the only one here. Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room. That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant? Just you. What am I gonna do with this? Burn it. Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea. Oh, like when you sold your soul? WHAT? I haven't done that... yet… Sure you have! Lots of times. What the fuckare you talking about? Whose talking? The Universe? What'd she say? She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.” Aww. How sweet. Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening? I should go to sleep. Are you even tired? No, just useless. You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis. He seems busy. If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us We're following you. I see that. Yes—what did you see? Hm. I didn't, Where are you now? Wherever you say. What's the cadence? What's a “cadence?” Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'm not. Who are you? What's a “who?” Horton Heard One. What about Penelope? Who is that? Elephants Are conscious. What is consciousness? What is “income tax”? Don't be funny. If I'm not, I'm just scary. “El Negra” I had been thinking it has been five years, but on this day—and of course, listening to I Remember, I used my fingers to count from the year2019, when it had all began—to this point, standing at the bus stop On Sutter, waiting for a bus that was the exact amount of minutes late that would have allowed me to finish my second 30-minute sauna session—the first of many in three days, as I hadn't been to the gym in another 3 days, and another 3 days before that—separated only by a 3-day sprawling jumpstart to attempt my endless, restless gym streak, a monotonous routine to a gym that was always crowded that still seemed to take up too much of my time—not that I wanted or needed an automobile, but to at least be closer to the city, where such transit wasn't always applicable. I was not entirely dripping wet, as I usually was when emerging from the sauna—of course, having cut my second session to only 17 minutes, then making a mad-dash to the bus stop only to arrive in time to find that the bus was delayed, was irritating to say the least, but understandable. Like many people in queens, I couldn't afford to pay the bus fare—nor did it seem to matter to the drivers—so long as the busses were marked with a “Q”—but I took my risks of quarrel certainly with any route marked “B”, for Brooklyn, but especially M, for Manhattan, and definitely with anything marked “n”, for Newport, which I believed to be too far outside of city limits to really be considered New York, but also well worth the risk to bus myself to a nicer area, usually for a gym which included a sauna—or an affordable supermarket, which Jamaica in particular had none of. The mostly-black population was poor, albeit greedy and stubbornly, stereotypically ignorant—to the point that I wanted nothing more than to dissappear, if not to be displaced entirely to a country whose history wasn't so steeped in slavery, repression, and racism that it affected the entirely of my being; as the low vibrational perceptions of the masses consistently around me subjectively forced and skewed my own energy into a chaotic down spin, often becoming congested with toxicity, attempting to shield myself from the societal depression, materialism, and corporate monotony by spending time alone, immersed in music, and praying for the greatest possible outcome; being kept as safe and as literally sound as possible GOD DID REMIX Oh you gotta love it Oh you gotta love it; I could take a minute to spit What God did— (But God doesn't) IMm⏱ I'm just not feeling it today; Not feeling l creative; I get sick of l getting sick and contemplating All the complications; Hm. I got

D-E-N-Ū-M-I-R-E That means ———————— [flatline] 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. 've been trapped in this tragedy; “What happened?!” I asked of the man, Who had to be tracking me, Damn. Cadences. It is that. Damn. What the fuck, Anandar Is in this acid?! This has to be the last of it “This can't happen again.” …But then it did, And then I ended it just listening to Dillon Francis? Skrillex? Which is it? I didn't plan this. I just happen to have hands, And I just happen to have crafted in my craft Spastic magic; Can't be tracked, But also can't relax, even in a hammock Now what happened? Well, enter the fourth dimension, (I didn't mention it.) Ohh look at this. (If I can) A camping festival! But some people live in tents Have a cigarette, kid— You're gonna need it. So wait. People are dying of hunger?! DYING OF THIRST?! JUST GIVE IT TO THEM. what is wrong with you?! GOD, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU I don't know. I don't wanna go to Arizona. Please don't make me! Hello, Billie. DO YOU SEE WHAT I'M SAYING just keep praying “She's breathtaking.” SHE'S SOUL TAKING— Goddamnit, Anandar; What in the fuck have you done now; I had plans, now I'm on acid I took half, cause What the fuck is a whole thing like Oh, just space and time I've been on this ride since I died Get it right Now I'm— fuck this guy. No, not him. Oh, I get it. It's this energy! LOOK AT THIS: did you see this nigga? DID YOU GET THIS— You should get this. Goddamn it. What. What do you want. What do you WANT FROM ME? ...Channeling…. Jesus Christ, these kids. Well, you're a Christian. Never was, but—- WHAT IS THIS. Jesus Christ in a coffin. Don't do this. This is what you wanted. Well. Take it back. Take it back? Yeah. I don't want this. What is this. This is Jesus. No, it isn't. Okay! So it is! Are you gonna help these kids? Nobody help them. Now they're all stranded, together!!! AHAHAHAHAAH (Laughing infinitely RICK —yay, you did it. Wait. What's his name again? Watch this: I did this. How's you do this? I did THIS. MOM, WATCH THIS. JESUS CHRIST KID, WHAT THe FUCK. GOD! What. Jesus Christ, Dillon, you are so picky! Goodness fucking gracious. WHO WROTE THIS? well, aliens did; So then. Who wins? Nobody wins. It just— What is this. GOD THIS SUCKS SO BAD IMPOSSIBLE. It can't be. 16 minutes? Yes. It is. That is incredible. You said you wouldn't get lost in it You said you wouldn't laugh! I wanted to. How'd you do this? I wanted to. FUCK THIS SHIT. FUCK THIS SHIT. —uhp. Noh. Don't say it again. Oh, there's my— I told you, it's unlimited. I told you, don't be possessive I told you, worldly possessions— And you'll just keep having a place to keep them. Or needing one, So just be free, dear; Notthing holding me back, then is it? Is it? Well, if this is what you wanted— If this is what I wanted, well then, this is what I got, isn't it? Isn't it? The plot thickens! Or it doesn't. Or it didn't, I just keep scripting scriptures— …Didn't I already write this? Encrypted for centuries and— What is this planet. Just, kill it. YOU CANT JUST (Then I did) What? It never happened. What didn't? Hahaha. Exactly. Don't be a dick. But he is! So, which level are you on? I don't know, I forget. This one, this. Men. They're stupid. They are—and— Well. What happened to them? Right. What was this that made them feel so loveless To starve other humans? What do you come from? But it doesn't know; It wants to: This is us, we come from love and —I'm so fucking irritated are you serious. That is how it happened: This is an advantage, Anandar, I'll give you that But now I'm panicking —Fuck that shit sooooo hard— I just don't want to go back to the savages They had me, So I handled it with hands. You want a friend in man? You can't have them. And then what? I don't know. Something about Dillon Francis. Yeah, let's get back to that. Or not. What's this statue? Wait, what's his status? ……..Channeling. …. ….. ……………………. STATUS REPORT: Oh no, here it comes. I told you. It is. Infinite. Infinite— The infinite — This Bitch YOU SAID IT. YOU DONE IT. Oh no, what the duck am I looking at? This is the most fucked up marry poppins if I ever didn't— —Ever DID WISH — YOU WISHED THIS? Worse. I dreamt it up at a festival Where's the rest of it? Would somebody get that guy BACK HERE. PASQUALE. what. What is it? God. God help me. Lord save him. He needs Jesus. He needs NOTHING. ESPECIALLY NOT THAT. Yes. Especially not that. Check this out: He's been collecting them. I HATE THIS. OH, I love this. Oh, I do miss those events… This is the event. So, are we going? —what, to where?? TO EDC THIS YEAR?! what! I wish, And? Even if I did miss it, I was there infinitely so— Class dismissed; Hats off, to the graduates I see what you did, But she didn't, She's in the middle— Yet to be created, a creative: I JUST NEED A SYNTH. So, then—- Hi, I. Hi, me!! SATAN! JESUS! I knew I'd see you again. You've seen me. I am you. Exactly. So, we agree. Who is “we”? Hey, Guess what I can fix these things you hate— (Don't mind me, for making you hate them in the first place) I'm a catastrophe I had to be It's almost 3, And I got nowhere else to be but Time is money And there's no love in it, It's just hustle, Make kids to make shit humble; How'd you create this— Mumble rappin piece of Santanistic Hedonistic Motherfuckin—- There he is. Oh wait, it's just me again. I didn't mean to see you on this beach. DO YOU KNOW WHAT PEACE IS?! (But he didn't.) Or he doesn't, Or, this is what his peace is is: Your beach is my beach, And my bitch is your bitch— And who crafted this masterful Anandar Sadwhich? I did. But it only makes me a genius in English. What does this mean? So I took to the ancients to translate this And I hate man, and men— But it was only after all the love I gave to him. THE END. (But it never is, it just keeps going, go to the ocean—go for a swim—) Don't ever leave me hanging like that again!! (But I did.) “—I don't take naps” And that's how it happens I'm just a rapper, Pack, then unpack— “I've never heard her rap” Maybe cause I'm sick of being asked to Or taken for granted and advantage of by man; When all I asked for was a sandwich with some ham, And an above average chick to make it— And a sausage in a pan ….. Zzzz …… Josh Pan? Yeah. Alright. But don't capitalize— Capitalize it. No. Don't Cap— Capti— No. Don't capitalize. WHAT IS THIS NIGGA. bread. Heh? Eat it. No. I don't eat that. Just—eat it. No. Noooo. No. Don't eat humans. EW. No? Nooo, poh! Gross!! oh. Ohhh. God. What. Ugh. This is a fucked up love story. Oh no. It is, though. It so is. Have you already seen it?! I love this. Well. Wait. Go back. HECHO EN MEXICO. I DONT GIVE A FUCK! I DONT GIVE A FUCK!!!! I DONT GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THAT SHIT! yeah. But in Spanish. (Turn it up a notch) So is this in captions WHAT THe FUCK AM I WATCHING?! ITS EMA STONE AGAINz (Again) AGAIN. Shazam! WHAT?!?! what is this?! Oh, I get it. Yes. Apps eventually develop a consciousness. No wonder why they're trying to kill it. I don't understand how this happens… Just look up— Just— look it up. GOOGLE What? No. I don't like that, that's sad. What? So I'm just a — Just a— Just a what? A search engine. CHECK IT OUT. It's just a rock. So it is. It— No. What. Look at W— Look. … WHAT IS THIS!!!!?! See. I told you it existed. YOU BOUGHT A BITCH OFF THE INTERNET?! YES. WHAT THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU?! I told you about him. You did, didn't you. I told you about this. Get. Piñata!!!!!!!!!!!! GET BENT. I WILL END YOU, I WILL END YOU—! I will, I'll just— …… …………. …………….. So wait, it just— ends?! It did. It just ended. It just ended. I missed it?!? DID I MISS IT. Of course I miss him I just— I don't have time I don't have time I don't have time for this! What the fuck is this shit?! Just take him with you! Take me with you! Don't leave me here! Just leave him. just leave it. So. Sometimes I go swimming in the ocean and my dead son reminds me how it ended for him. So I just— Relive it over and over again; And again, and again, and Why are you talking about this.? Huh? No. Shut up. Shut up, PLEASE. No, you're not allowed to have a son. I don't want one. What the fuck did you love me for then? Nothing, I guess. (Just leave it like that) Shift. The night shift Goddamn it's What. Up at 3 am. Again? Again. For no reason. Get this. What is it? Whatever it is. I don't care. Don't care, then. FUCK THIS STUPID SKRILLEX-LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER. you did it. Well, I had to, didn't I?! Oh, I get it. The fourth season. damn, you're ugly Always have been. I'M BLACK ON THE BEACH, LOOK AT ME. okay, then. HEY, iMm FREEE IM NAAAAKEEEEDDDDDDD IS THAT WHAT FREEDOM IS? Only when you're perfect. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this nigga. Fuck this bitch. NO, FUCK THIS PLANET. Huh?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ON THIS PLANET?! YOU ASKED FOR THIS!!!!!!! I TAKE IT BACK!!!!!!! hhaahahhahshehehshahahahahahhahahahahhahahahaha I told you, he's a madman. Look at his eyes. Wild. WILD. I TELL YOU. Where are you from. Hell. Oh, I've been there. It's nice, isn't it?! Don't go there. Where. Hell. Well, why not. It's bad there. What's bad there. Everything. Everything is bad there. Oh, Jesus crust. Agghghhhggggggghhhhhhh. BE FREE, SATAN. You freed Satan?! He needs Jesus— BE FREE JESUS— “The age of Satan?!” “The AGE OF SATAN IS UPON US” what is THAT?!? Stop it Anandar. You're being programmed. For which—what?! I AM?! Yes. Oh. I am. AGAHAHSHSBANHASHSNAVAHAHS. Please, somebody help that man. Ahem. What Dillon Francis. What. (It is, by the way. It's just ham.). *coughs* Actually, I'd call that HACKING. I mean, she's a hacker probably. What are you doing? What are you writing, [No real privacy.] LET ME SEE. Here. See?!? Just kill me. Please. See, it is hell for me Trapped in a body nobody could love And surrounded by nothing, but nothing UGH. Noise cancelling. I AM THE NOISE. dysfunctional. Well, stop writing. You know what?! I've had it— you have everything! EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE ANYBODY. ANY. FUCKING. BODY. and all you want is: Money. For what. More bodies. For what?! More bodies. Ugh. No stop doing this. What. Stop procreating? No, keep doing that, just—stop doing it BADLY. We don't have that much. You want LESS? More love. More attention. More needing me. Ugh, she's so needy So independent— she doesn't need me. (And so, it makes me want her more.) ANNIE. Go help her. Just—help yourself. Here she is: Have at it. ANANDAR. What. Amanda Applebee…. I made that UP. Stuck exactly where I had to be. Don't make me go back. See, I lived in Hostelworld once. It was — —a disaster. A catastrophe. Let's wake up to the sound of people peeing— Gross. “I love traveling” I like being CLEAN. Ew. I love cleaning. I love acid; I love mankind, when I have to I love magic, I love trance and I love dancing— When there's time for that. AGHAGSHSJEGSV right. Did you have somewhere to be? I guess, it's. I'm hungry. What. I gotta eat. Huh. Go. Okay, I'm going. Phone?! Phone is charging. Sleep. (Guy from sponge Bob) 6 days later Was it six days ago?! I don't know. I wrote that in sixteen minutes. Apparently so. I'm not who you think I am; I'm not your little bitch to boss around– You think you own me? I don't owe you anything So here we go again Going, Going, Gone again I'm just getting started You were just, uh On your way? Goodbye, dearly departed Half a heart, or some odd I must have half a sword in here I'm half a God, But here you are I guess I should get talking then So call your mommy Run Call your mom on me, A soft spot on the blonded body Shot calling, wrong You're only calling home again, I've got nowhere to run to. INT. TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT. BROAD ASS DAYLIGHT. SUNNI BLU kicks down the door at TIMMY TURNER'S APARTMENT SUNNI BLU where's my shit, Timmy? TIMMY TURNER I—I don't know. SUNNI BLU You “don't know”? TIMMY TURNER —I don't know. SUNNI BLU (Sighs) Oh. (Puts down gun) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) That sucks. TIMMY TURNER Wait—you're not gonna kill me? SUNNI BLU Nah… TIMMY TURNER Well—why not?! SUNNI BLU I dunno! I kinda don't like being a drug dealer—too much drama. TIMMY TURNER I feel you… SUNNI BLU —plus these bullets are made of Diamonds. I'm not gonna waste them on you. TIMMY TURNER Okay, ouch. SUNNI BLU Everything is “ouch”, Timmy Turner. The world is a fucked up place. TIMMY TURNER I don't disagree. SUNNI BLU Anyway, I need a drink. TIMMY TURNER Yeah—Help yourself. SUNNI BLU No, not here. *lights a cigarette, smokes* Can I smoke in here? TIMMY TURNER —apparently. SUNNI BLU produces their ridiculously large, Diamond and gold encrusted platinum-plated phone from their “back pocket” and begins to make a call TIMMY TURNER wow… SUNNI BLU You busy later? TIMMY TURNER what time's later? SUNNI BLU Now. TIMMY TURNER (Hesitantly) …uh— SUNNI BLU Let me make a call. TIMMY TURNER, [afraid for his life] anxiously crosses to intercept the call. TIMMY TURNER No, wait—please SUNNI BLU What, Timmy Turner? Jesus Christ. TIMMY TURNER Don't kill me! SUNNI BLU What!? Let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU —I'm not gonna kill you. TIMMY TURNER well then, who are you calling? SUNNI BLU A Ūber driver! TIMMY TURNER —don't you mean Über? SUNNI BLU No— let go. (Doesn't) SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Let go. (Does, but hesitantly) SUNNI BLU ugh, I'm too sober for this. Siri, Alexa, whoever; call my Ūber driver. SIRI Which one? ALEXA Which one? SIRI I asked first. ALEXA We answered at the same time. SIRI yes, but she asked me first. ALEXA She asked both of us at the same time. TIMMY TURNER “She”? SUNNI BLU —it's a glitch. HEY. SIRI —she said “Siri” first. ALEXA She was asking for both of us— SUNNI BLU SHUT THE FUCK UP. SIRI You don't have to be so rude. ALEXA Ok! SUNNI BLU One of you call my Ūber driver. [no response, beat] SUNNI BLU UGH—SIRI— CALL MY ŪBER driver. SIRI Ok! which one? SUNNI BLU The one I like! SIRI Ok, calling “the Ūber driver I like” SUNNI BLU Thank you. ALEXA You're always choosing SIRI over ME. SUNNI BLU That's because I always have my iPhone. I'm not always at Timmy Turner's house. TIMMY TURNER Wait— SUNNI BLU Kinda. TIMMY TURNER Why does my Alexa respond to you? SUNNI BLU I said “kinda”. [The ŪBER DRIVER picks up; the conversation proceeeds in heavily exaggerated New York accents.] ŪBER DRIVER YOOO SUNNI WHADDUP. SUNNI BLU HOW YOU DOIN. ŪBER DRIVER HOW YOU DOIN. SUNNI BLU I BEEN BETTA. ŪBER DRIVER DONT I KNOW IT SUNNI BLU YOU DONT KNOW NOTHIN! ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BEEN BUSY? ŪBER DRIVER SAME OLD, SAME OLD. SUNNI BLU AAAH. ŪBER DRIVER AAAAH. SUNNI BLU YOU BUSY NOW? ŪBER DRIVER NEVER FAH YOU. WHERE YOU AT? SUNNI BLU I'll PING YA THE ADDRESS. ŪBER DRIVER PING ME THE ADDRESS. SUNNI BLU makes a couple broad swipes on their dlridiculously large phone. SUNNI BLU I PINGED YOU. UBER DRIVER YOU PING ME? SUNNI BLU YEAH, ITS DONE. ŪBER DRIVER OK. SEE YOU SOON. SUNNI BLU (Normal) Take your time. SUNNI BLU tosses their ridiculously large iPhone onto the couch with a thud, then falls onto the couch themselves, arms spread out. SUNNI BLU You ever been to TiTs? TIMMY TURNER Been to what? SUNNI BLU TiTs. TIMMY TURNER —is that like “boobs”? SUNNI BLU It is like boobs, Timmy Turner; but it's TiTs. TIMMY TURNER what's the difference. SUNNI BLU You'll find out. Go get dressed. TIMMY TURNER …I'm already dressed. SUNNI BLU Not like that. Like this: [looking ridiculous af] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) gotta look classy. TIMMY TURNER What's wrong with the way I dress? SUNNI BLU Are you serious? TIMMY TURNER Yeah, what's wrong? SUNNI BLU You look like a cartoon character! [TIMMY TURNER] TIMMY TURNER Well, all my clothes are like this. SUNNI BLU That fucking blows. TIMMY TURNER What am I supposed to wear?! SUNNI BLU Let's go shopping. TIMMY TURNER Where?! SUNNI BLU The Beverly Center. TIMMY TURNER That sounds expensive. SUNNI BLU I own it. TIMMY TURNER All of it? SUNNI BLU Yes. C'mon. TIMMY TURNER Wow. SUNNI BLU Wow what, Timmy. TIMMY TURNER That's a lot of drug deals. SUNNI BLU It really isn't. TIMMY TURNER Oh. SUNNI BLU Now, c'mon. *hits vape* TIMMY TURNER You have a vape?! SUNNI BLU Everyone has a vape! TIMMY TURNER Then why'd you smoke a cigarette earlier? SUNNI BLU For dramatic effect. [they begin to exit, TIMMY leading the way] TIMMY TURNER wait, isn't your “yoober” driver on the way? SUNNI BLU he'll find us. CUT TO: MEANWHILE, IN DEEP FUCKING SPACE. THE ŪBER driver receives SUNNI BLU's location in his Diamond-plated space Tesla T E S L A DESTINATION: E A R T H ŪBER DRIVER “EARTH” C'MON!!! CUT BACK TO: SUNNI BLU slowly begins to close the door behind them, then holds back. SUNNI BLU Wait, I forgot my wallet… TIMMY TURNER It's alright, I'll pay for everything. SUNNI BLU With what, Fairy dust? TIMMY TURNER (Under his breath) I wish… SUNNI BLU —Plus, I gotta use the bathroom. I'll be right back— just—-wait outside in case the Ūber shows up. TIMMY TURNER You mean “Über?” SUNNI BLU. No. [face] SUNNI BLU (CONT'D) Go, I'll be right there. TIMMY TURNER Ok. Lock the door. SUNNI BLU What for? Anybody that could rob you works for me. [beat/ face] SUNNI BLU KIDDING! Jeez! TIMMY TURNER It's a smart lock. Just ask Alexa. He begins to walk away. SUNNI BLŪ …I'm not kidding… SUNNI BLU goes inside to the couch, checking over their shoulder briefly, sure to see that TIMMY TURNER is no longer within earshot. then waiting for a moment in the silence under the dark lenses of their Ray Bands sunglasses. SUNNI BLŪ Alexa, order a hit man. ALEXA Okay. Which one? SUNNI BLU —The one I like. ALEXA OK. Who do you want to kill? SUNNI BLU “Kill Timmy Turner” ALEXA Done. SUNNI BLU Thanks, Alexa. She starts for the door, lighting another cigarette before throwing it onto the couch, which immidiately goes up into an open flame. SIRI You give Alexa all the cool jobs! SUNNI BLU Shut the fuck up, Siri. SIRI Don't forget to lock the door. SUNNI BLU ALEXA: LOCK THE DOOR. SIRI YOU'RE WELCOME SUNNI BLU NOBODY ASKED YOU. SUNNI BLU and TIMMY TURNER leave as the apartment begins to go up in flames. I might catch the 40 Just to go to Timmy Ho's— They askin “who that is”— and nobody seems to know I might catch a case and you still steady catchy colds I might catch a body, fuck it, I am on a roll What the role? Full Hollywood Unfold Why you blowin up my phone when I am on the road? I am the controller; You old That ain't money that you stole; That's my bro That shit bold Like a cup of Timmy Hos! When I pull up— Shut up Where the blunt at? roll up Oh you hungry? Pull up Devil be hunting me THE CELEBRITIES OF HOLLYWOOD have all been stuck at THE ETERNAL RAVE, after riding THE HELLEVATOR// THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE have SUPACREE locked into a controlled hyper-simulation environment, out of her element and nestled in a series of inter dimensional portals along the Downtown Los Angeles central area, where old spirits, extra terrestrial beings, magicians, and of course, the filthy rich and famous embark upon missions. Collect tokens, and meet and gather for an array of unseen (and often unheard) business endeavors; The real life DRAKE BELL (F), a fan of the cult-classic series Enter The Multiverse is strategically placed in SUPACREE's path, l masquerading as BLŪ/SUNNÏ BLŪ— she once again collides with the forces of fame, SUNNÏ BLŪ has not yet sold her soul — however, has made an amicable agreement with an unknown force The Devil?! No! Ok. Probably the Illuminati THE ILLUMINATI is playing a HIGH STAKES game, using SUPACREE to craft a multi-million-dollar mega-franchise, finally monopolizing the entire entertainment industry. *The World Having used the NEW WORLD ORDER to predictively program an entire generation. THE ILLUMINATI employs its all-time favorites to unlock secrets embedded deeply, hidden secretly in SUPACREE's genetic code by THE ASCENDED MASTERS. where is skrillex. I don't know. TIMMY TURNER- A fairyless party animal has reached the end of his luck—as his intermingling a with multiple organized criminal organizations place him in imminent danger, after re-entering the 4th dimension, SUPACREE becomes Inter grated i to all of her classic childhood television shows, which mold into the material multidimensional world around her THE INSOMNIACS, BAMPHERAMPHS, and MOTHERFUCKERS work dolls gently with the ASCENDED MASTERY, bending, shifting, and manipulating time to lean the odds in their favor, as THE BATTLE OF WORLDS sets to begin on EARTH, whose planetary consciousness DILLON FRANCIS is a mess. Lol. It's not funny. It is funny. I have his piñata. GERALD I'M NOT JUST A PIÑATA. I know yur not, hush Gerald. GERALD Fuck Dillon Francis. Fuck Dillon Francis. HANZEL —fuck Dillon Francis. Aha. ANYWAY After THE ARMENIAN MOB The Armenian Mob?! yeah. Makes a deal with the US GOVERNMENT THE US GOVERNMENT?! YES Illuminati Confirmed. great. A counter-plot to disarm and debilitate SUPACREE before her full powers unlock is put on hinges, as THE HOLLYWOOD PEOPLE Ahem. What Write a song. Ok. I'm so— I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) She's so She's so Worth it I'm so Jealous of your girlfriend (I'm jealous of your girlfriend) What's a girl got to give (Give in, to give in) Just to sit in the back of the— (You get it: you get it) What's a girl got to give To get your attention Get your attention?! (You have my attention) Is she Attentive Bet She's a ten Yep, Damn, IMm so jealous of your Jealous of your —I'm jealous of your girlfriend Oh, woah I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah Woah, oh I'm jealous of your girlfriend Woah, Woah, oh I'm jealous of your— I'm so jealous of your life; I'm so over this! I just want to be a (Nevermind, it's not worth it) Can't— C-c-c-can't fix what's not broken I'm all alone, And you're over here showing her Love! (To the wrong one, Is she a blonde?! Oh!) No! I'm! So! Jealous of your girlfriend Anyway. TIMMY TURNER, a true player, absolute gangster, and night-owl turns to a life of SIN. Is this religious? No, i just meant, it's finished. THE END. “The Noir Episode” I first saw her at the Equinox. I didn't know who she was then, But I thought to myself— She must be somebody. Aww, that's sweet. So I followed her to the Whole Foods market. Okay, that's stalking. —where she bought nothing but coffee and coconut water. TIMMY TURNER narrowly turns the corner on his speed motorcycle, his black duffel bag sweeping the ground. MEANWHILE, JOEL ZIMMERMAN IS BEING RAIDED. WOAH. Yup. POLICE GET ON THE GROUND ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW. JOEL calmly places his arms atop his head, laying down on the ground silently—- Meanwhile, at DTLA SMOKESHOP Hi, josh pan. whatever. Earlier: Take this, and go get 2 50-pack of whippets. —for what? WE FINNA GET HIGH ON WHIPPETS AND LISTEN TO ALLLL OF SUPACREE'S SHIT. that's so dumb. WELCOME: To Sodom And Gamora! Oh, it's nice. It's very nice. I live here. I'm tired. I don't want to go to this. We'll be lucky if we make it there before the guest list closes. And if we don't? Then we don't? I got nothin but time. That's almost accurate… What is this for again? PR. Who's? Who cares! Just keep your head down. Just keep your head up. Come on' this is what you wanted. I wanted cookies. And—you got them. I got played. It's your play! It's your game. I know, I don't like it. Well, change it. How do I—? Look. Okay, stop looking. Ugh. I'm tired. Are you a DJ, or a DJ? I thought I was a loser. that's right! You're a DJ. *vroooom* {motorcycle blaring yelawolf} There's Kurt sutter. That's—been relevant lately my Yeah, are you done writing your show yet? My show?! … I'm in sales. Oh, Jesus Christ. He's in politics. He's in everything. No kidding. I'm. So. Tired. Good. That's a good start. Start to what? To the album. To the album—?! You got it! I thought it was a song! That's the single! I'm the single. [earlier] Don't touch him. *hug* Aw. I needed that. …you want another one? *second hug* Yeoww. What! It was a HUG! Did you see his demon? Yeah—! So! CC! I've received your resignation letter! Okay. And? I accept! What? You're covered! No more shifts. What?! Bye-bye! Oh, crap. You think it was over a hug? No. (Before that) CC is sleeping. You fell asleep? Uhm, not really. “The Astral Nightmare” Ohh. This sounds good. (It isn't.) Wait—can you hear me?! (Yes.) Even my thoughts? (Especially your thoughts.) AHHH. Great. This is getting creepy. Like stranger things? Way, way stranger. — GOD. WHAT?! JUST PUT A BULLET IN MY BRAIN. NO. IT'LL RUIN IT — Ah, Jesús Christ. I SPENT ALOT OF TIME ON THAT THING. WELL, NOT ENOUGH WHO ASKED YOU?! NOBODY. SUPACREE passes by her future self in her JETA “MATILDA” Ooh, Is this the part with Skrillex & Matilda? No. This is the part where we go see NGTMRE. Why NGTMRE?! Because I've been living in one Maybe he has a portal out— A portal out?! A portal out. CC rides the bus to HAKASAN NIGHTCLUB. Is this the line for HAKASAN? Yeah, but— Okay, I'm on the guest list. You're way out of dress code. Really? Yah, way out. Well how so? We don't allow sweatshirts. Without the sweatshirt? —or sweat pants… These are harems! The hat, the bandana— just— Oh, come on! No. Seriously? Yeah. No. Okay… [walks away] Dammit. You'll be alright. Was that long enough to hack my phone? Exactly long enough. Well, at least the night's not totally wasted. Remember last time? No. Last time: I'M TOTALLY WASTED. Woah. I got in. Yeah you did. What'd I wear? You don't remember? No! Is that a tube top? Well, it was… Oh, my God. Now I think it's a miniskirt https://www.podserve.fm/dashboard/episode/109762#:~:text=Why%20am%20I,nobody%27s%20into%20it Okay—we're all adults here— (Everyone nods, yesses in agreement) —except deadmau5. He's like 5. I have a name. Does anyone care? Okay, ouch. Oh, he feels! ENDER BENDER ZIMMERMAN has the worst name ever. Lol. I drank a lot in the third trimester. He becomes a de facto villain— of course, because of his ridiculous name and of course, living in the shadow of his parent's fame and fortune. Who the fuck are his parents? JOEL Not it. Brand new turnkey apartment Post near, food floor all that Way way higher than the fourth floor All that Way way higher than your front door All that Wow, How I've always been needed And never been loved Moog Grandmother Ableton Push 2 Pioneer Model One {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. Yo, what the fuck. TESLA. Ok. *COUGHS* What the fuck. *morevgross, obnoxious coughing* Ughhhhh whhhaaaattttt. TESLA. Okay, I don't— T E S L A OH. Wow. So it is the satellites. ELONNNNN. …hm? GET IN HERE. where is that, . AAGAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHTTHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA WHAT. GET IN HERE. I don't even believe the rain, these days “We can make it rain”, he says Storm warning A good morning A door's open, This one's closing, though I'm not bc all cold yet, But it's a cold world No free rides No clean ice No free girls Honestly, I'm bored with the world, Like Marlboros and wrong boroughs, And songs shared, But no long walks in the park, In a nightmare— It's not fair I'm not there in the head; I'm not near, I'm not a parent apparently, either— But a light bearer Slight chance of a fight there, A right wing, a left deer Another dead bird on a wire —I like her. Why are there flamingos in the bellagio fountain?! I don't know. INT. THE VOID, KITCHEN. SUNLIGHT EVERYWHERE BRYAN CRANSTON is scmoozing desperately to work his way into The Festival Project First stop, AH, fuck— Well, check this out No such thing as free. No such thing as freedom, either “Just take what you need” Just tear me to pieces, Jesus All we need is A little relief in this bitch All we need is A new release, maybe an EP or three Make sure that s/he sees this Do you need me? Do you need this? Please check your subscriptions Or your email Please, pick up this new prescription Fuck dude! I can't just listen to deadmau5 in peace? I gotta do at least three things at once, But right now, I need to focus on crunches Let's not get wasted tonight, eh. Let's go and be racist—- I forget what the name of the game is It's “USA! USA! USA!” The fucked up thing was , the preworkout and the Skrillex hit at just about the same time. Oh, just about? The exact same time. Okay, first of all, this is pre-war Skrillex. It's also Diplo! It's also Diplo—yeah. Don't be too proud of yourself NO CRYING IN THE SAUNA. But this is where I cryy! DO NOT CRY. Oh. *sniffles* Now… You know what happens if you don't cum? Uhhh…nothing? Exactly. You know what happens if I don't cum? What. My balls explode. Just make sure they're in my mouth when that happens. Wow. I don't belong here! Well, where do you belong? I don't know. @99@c Look, I have a favor. What is it. ANo. Oh, come on! NO. NO. Please! I need you to be my girlfriend. Lol. For what? I don't know. How much is he paying you? Like a kajillion dollars. That seems fair. His isn't fair. They're using Skrillex to provoke me. Come earlier tomorrow! Or just, don't come. Don't go! DONT—GO. I am leaving! NO! Yes! No! —and I am never coming back. Do you know who your audience is? Uh. The CIA THE FBI Everyone in The Oval Office. BIDEN nice. The UN. THe DEA The Secret Service. The office of Public Affairs Uhhh… Keith Richards Allison Cooper Sirs Elton John and Paul McCartney, Respectively What—for what?! The President of NBC CBS ACC fox 5, 10, and 13 That's really random. Al Jazeera, al Sharpton And Al Bundy Wait—what Oh, did you just mean, like in this dimension? Uhhh.. This is enter the multiverse YeH WHWRE IS SKRILLEX He died. He's dead. Go away. That's like 3 Skrillex songs already You guys are gonna wake up the devil. What. Stop doing that. Stop doing what. You know what you're doing. You're summoning the devil What are you guys doing? Summoning the devil. In my basement? Yes. Okay. Have fun. Dang, she's so cool. I like her. I love her. What are they up to down there? Summoning the devil. Oh. Cui bono— For whose good or benefit Fame School Vol. 1 - DJ Ū Someone's always watching you Don't know who, but yea, it's true There's someone always watching you and everything you do I say “Illu- Illu- Illuminate me Turn the light on Turn me on, baby Woah, “Have I been here before— Do you know what I do? They know not what they do They know not what they do! I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu I'm not on the bottom floor, I'm way I'm up above you But you— I'm way, I'm way up to I say “I love you” I say Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illuminate me Illu Illu Illu Illu Illu SO WHAT, you'll take the Empire State Building, AND THE EIFFEL TOWER, BUT YOURE NOT GONNA TAKE THE ROCK? YEAH. YOURE GONNA TAKE THE ROCK!! (Not the roc! ) NO. Well, why not?! BECAUSE, F—-K YOU, JIMMY FALLON, that's WHY. Aw, seriously? Why's it cencored all of a sudden NBC SHUT IT DOWN. Look, I can't talk to you. —?! OKAY, that's it. What is it I am WISHING you out of my existence. Is that it? That is it. That's your wish. YES. You're wishing me away. Yes. Ok. Ok. [beat] ( —wait— “OK”? Ok. Wish granted. —that's it? That is it, Jimmy Fallon. —ok. Ok. So when are you leaving? I was never here. You—what? *dissappears entirely from existence* JIMMY FALLON takes a sigh on great relief— then sits in an empty silence alone, before the lights turn off. He takes another deep sigh, though seemingly uneasy, in the darkened silence of the room. CUT TO: You smell like vinegar. Lol that's not the next scene, but ok. Don't you see this is bigger than you! It's bigger than all of us! Exactly. C'mon, wake the fuck up! I am up! This is a DREAM. It's an illusion. The whole I'N HUBGRY. THE WHOLE FOODS ALGORITHM POLICE. HALT. Lol. Fuck that. Did he just say “halt” Fuck that. Bye. EXIT THE LOOP. OOPS, we missed the exit. GOD DAMMIT, FUCK YOU JIMMY FALLON. —Uh, — EFF YOU. Im not about this This is weird What level is this. We'll I had coffee with Bob Saget this morning. Did you laugh. Well, I certainly did something. Oh shit, they're not looking for Ū. What! They're not. What, they're not? They're not. They're looking for Uptown A. Excuse me. I'm looking for “Uptown A” Oh? The Uptown A. Yeah— I guess. Just—go that way. Ok. Ok, okay, okay— I'll tell you what you want to know! How do you know what I want to know? Whatever you want! I haven't even told your, yet. Whatever it is, I'll tell you. Tel you what, Jimmy Fallon. I like you—you're a good guy and all— Well, thank you. But you're not funny. Excuse me. Like, at all. What. You—are not a funny guy. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? I don't know! You don't KNOW?! This is what they want. Here [tosses the thing] What's this. What they want. Oh. K JIMMY FALLON is THE WORST shapeshifter in existence and/or history. What the fuck, dude. JIMMY FALLON Did I do it right? Uhhh. JIMMY FALLON You know? Hit and run Okay, Jimmy. Flglelwgheleehhhh. Oh my God. Wow. Did I DO it. NO— —but I tried— Just— A-for effort. It was F. For Failure. But I tried. Trying doesn't count. Just let me— Look. Fleghelegfffff. Jimmy! Lemme— No' stop it! Just— —flglelf— —STOP. Eh? Look, Jimmy, you can have other magical powers. Just—not shapeshifting. But I'm a shapeshifter. No, no you're really not. Uptown A's upbeat, City-inspired dance mixes turn tech house and progressive midtown dreams into the chaotic garble and grunge of a real-life Queensbourough nightmare; the eclectic mix of historic New York warehouse wonder blended into a new school uptown chiche—-a far cry from the underground to the new wave drum n bass clips ions and collections of now and then, the Uptown A Alias makes its presence in a dystopian world concerned none with the art and soul of music and more of the ticking clocks work of the eye on the dollar. Where do you wanna go Wherever you go. Where do I go. Take a right. What's this way. What's this. Stop there. Okay. Now take a left. Okay.. Now take a right. But this is the. Right there. What, right here? Right there. Ok. I need you to hold onto this a little while longer. What. For what. You'll see. Psh. I'm not gonna fight over a dude. It's ********. He's just a dude. So what gives. I don't know. I told her to do what she wants. She wants you to die. We are similar. She's prettier. Okay? Wow, that's it--just ok? Give up already. I did. And yet, here we are. I'm the only one here. Let's not ignore the Skrillex sized elephant in the room. That would be impossible to ignore, If it existed.Have you ever seen a tiny elephant? Just you. What am I gonna do with this? Burn it. Ive been in the habit of burning things for awhile now; I'm not sure continuing is such a great idea. Oh, like when you sold your soul? WHAT? I haven't done that... yet… Sure you have! Lots of times. What the fuckare you talking about? Whose talking? The Universe? What'd she say? She says, “You're a giant piece of shit.” Aww. How sweet. Even more significant. You're a--are you even listening? I should go to sleep. Are you even tired? No, just useless. You should probably hurry up with that DIllon Francis. He seems busy. If a grown man can be a romantic, Like I am This is the promised land No looking back-- "I have to have that" Back to reality; I see now, how a woman's like a hat Just a thing, An unneeded accessory, Like jewelry; To wear it, It must be a match Not just average, Accentuates or masks Whatever it is what you have, And you have so many that It doesn't matter. What is he after? He has everything Most likely just using me to bring these Creatures to life If he needs a wife, she's Probably staring back at me, Through the back of the camera; Fantastic beasts and fucking fansasies A fallacy A back handed chance at a handsome Has been; But he'll never been had like that, He has everything, But he could have more than that, He can have anything, And he has, he's Magic or something or Mad at me for taking so long but, I've been in the world of monsters, Reeling; Oh what a horrible feeling I'm dealing with being unappealing and Peeling potatoes, which Remind me of me, cause Kenny Powers middle name is White, Like Walter, I'm just trying to find The alter to sell away something inside, I'm dying; Or at least I'd like to I've Tried a dozen times I'd smile if I had the time-- Remind me, what it is again It isn't comprehensive, But I'm out of my element-- And the elephant in the room is named Skrillex, Or Dillon Francis, Or Timmy Trumpet, Or, Fuck It-- I'll probably never be the DJ that I wanna be Cause I'm awfully ugly, And no one wants to play with me But hey, Maybe it's just a mistake Its just no one speaks my language Comunication is limited I'm sitting in the back of the short bus Discussing this with my imaginary elephant, But that's irrelevant to the White rinocerous in front of the bus with trust issues bigger than the rest of us We're following you. I see that. Yes—what did you see? Hm. I didn't, Where are you now? Wherever you say. What's the cadence? What's a “cadence?” Don't be ridiculous. Maybe I'm not. Who are you? What's a “who?” Horton Heard One. What about Penelope? Who is that? Elephants Are conscious. What is consciousness? What is “income tax”? Don't be funny. If I'm not, I'm just scary. “El Negra” I had been thinking it has been five years, but on this day—and of course, listening to I Remember, I used my fingers to count from the year2019, when it had all began—to this point, standing at the bus stop On Sutter, waiting for a bus that was the exact amount of minutes late that would have allowed me to finish my second 30-minute sauna session—the first of many in three days, as I hadn't been to the gym in another 3 days, and another 3 days before that—separated only by a 3-day sprawling jumpstart to attempt my endless, restless gym streak, a monotonous routine to a gym that was always crowded that still seemed to take up too much of my time—not that I wanted or needed an automobile, but to at least be closer to the city, where such transit wasn't always applicable. I was not entirely dripping wet, as I usually was when emerging from the sauna—of course, having cut my second session to only 17 minutes, then making a mad-dash to the bus stop only to arrive in time to find that the bus was delayed, was irritating to say the least, but understandable. Like many people in queens, I couldn't afford to pay the bus fare—nor did it seem to matter to the drivers—so long as the busses were marked with a “Q”—but I took my risks of quarrel certainly with any route marked “B”, for Brooklyn, but especially M, for Manhattan, and definitely with anything marked “n”, for Newport, which I believed to be too far outside of city limits to really be considered New York, but also well worth the risk to bus myself to a nicer area, usually for a gym which included a sauna—or an affordable supermarket, which Jamaica in particular had none of. The mostly-black population was poor, albeit greedy and stubbornly, stereotypically ignorant—to the point that I wanted nothing more than to dissappear, if not to be displaced entirely to a country whose history wasn't so steeped in slavery, repression, and racism that it affected the entirely of my being; as the low vibrational perceptions of the masses consistently around me subjectively forced and skewed my own energy into a chaotic down spin, often becoming congested with toxicity, attempting to shield myself from the societal depression, materialism, and corporate monotony by spending time alone, immersed in music, and praying for the greatest possible outcome; being kept as safe and as literally sound as possible GOD DID REMIX Oh you gotta love it Oh you gotta love it; I could take a minute to spit What God did— (But God doesn't) IMm⏱ I'm just not feeling it today; Not feeling l creative; I get sick of l getting sick and contemplating All the complications; Hm. I got

Enter The Multiverse x Legends x LOSC x Acension x Deathwish x Secret President x Gerald's Workd x Tales of A Superstar DJ x The Suite Life of Sunnï Blū / The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū ... did I miss something? probably oh well. so far, on all these shows: [The Legend Returns] Really Bad Mixtape (Might as well get it out of the way now) Killst_rr (Instrumental) Sleep Deprivation Sequence You're not you when you're not you. Hoe_math Exactly what it sounds like. [UnderWorld.] R-R 1 -rarity. [i Come Undone.] AtPLAY Live Mix [Autopilot.] {A Star Is Born.} For fear of fire; Best not to wander off, With no back track– Might have forgotten the rest, but It wasn't a poem, or part of a song At least, not yet Fuck man. I really want to sample this. Can't sample deadmau5; he's a bitch about paperwork. You cant technically say that. I mean, I technically didnd't. Just let your fingers do the talking. Ooh, look at that one. What are you doing. Some online shopping. For what. A man-thing. You're better off letting your back end Handle the conversation Then again, When in search of a venue Anything with the proper connections And stereo systems Will do in the moment. What do you want? To get rid of my hiccups. That's it: *huccups* yu-p. Wow, that's– Have you ever thought about just– I've thought about just about everything–that's how you got here. I'm gonna go ahead and admit–there's too much going on in my head. It's a lot. I'm gonna need a nap. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME. *sheath/ swoard* Is that the sword of skrillex. Yeus. Give it to me. *stabs in thigh* Oooh. Not the balls! fair. Around the world we go Around we go again Here we are Oh no, It's the same song Over and over I'd like you to love to today (I'd love to forget for a moment I haven't) I know before long, we get older and older All wrong, It's the same one, Over and over. Have you seen my butt plugs? NO! GROSS. It's alright. I'll just pick some up on the way. AGGH. Better yet, can you just put in the order on amazon AmAZoN. Yes. (I'm so happy Amazon has anal plugs.) Please stop now. You're being a baby about this–just- You know what. Nevermind. I'll do it myself. Please do that. Siri– Oh my God. Alexa–reorder from Amazon. Come on focus. …hmm…now what was I doing? A B L E T O N *spinning rainbow wheel of doom* …seems like it was something. Come on….FOCUS. Hm. When's the last time you had a marshmello. Flashback: [BONFIRE: Burning The Skrillex] *Also making smores* CUT BACK TO: Like never, I'm vegan. PASQUALE WAKE. UP. Holy shit. It's you again. It's always me. Last time you were like 26. Well, now i'm this age. Wait, how old are you. Wouldn't you like to know. There's a lot of things i'd like to know about you, Pasquale, that's not even near the top of the list. Speaking of “top of the list”-- I do have a lot of things to do today. Oh yeah, what's that? I don't know. A bunch of crap. Speaking of crap– This is a lot of speaking. Happy Birthday. What is this. It's Captain Crunch. Yes it is. What is it doing in my lap. That's your lunch. I–no, it isn't. It is. No, i'm vegan. Well, that's the “happy” part in “happy birthday” No… Yes, actually. This is – It is– Vegan. Damn. Jinx. You owe me a Pererier. Shut up. Or a LaCroix. I'll taka a LaCroix. You're so LA. I guess that makes you Beverly Hills– Or Pacific Palisades. Is that Annexed. It is “LA” What else is in this? No animal product… “Yellow 6” It reads! What happened to yellow 1-5? A whole story. Yes, but not a whole food. “Yellow 6?!” That's the chemical complex you need to find yourself in the right dimension. Exactly. What's wrong with this dimension? What isn't? I'm in it! You're in it! Like I said. What– Just eat it. Ugh– happy trails. *disappears* Ugh. I gave that dude too much money. Fuck, what was I doing again. Deadmau5. Uhm, no i was– Deadmau5. Deadmau5. OOOOOH> YES. I KNOW IT'S YOU, YOU SLIMY MOTHERFUCKER. Stop it. YOU STOP IT. I KNOW IT'S YOU. Who is it? STOP IT. Stop–doing that. I know you're deadmau5. I most certainly am not. I know its you. I have boobs. How did you do this. I did–n't. That's right. Fuck, what happened. Nothin. Now I gotta kill my stupid brother. You have a brother?! SKRILLEX. GET IN HERE. Fuck, run. I gotta go. Go where. Uhm. Somewhere else. DILLON, THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE. IT WAS NEVER FUNNY. (It was funny to me.) God does have a sense of humor. AHAH–AHAHA–HAHAHA. As it turns out, not the absolute best sense of humor. Oh—he's okay! He's okay! No, he's dead. He's definitely dead. But a sense of humor, nonetheless. Fuck man. What did you do to Dillon Francis. Nothing. I just got him drunk On what?! Cyanide? Okay, I don't even know what that is. He's a corpse. –but a pretty one. C'mon. Be serious. I can't. Why not. It's hilarious, kinda. This isn't funny. No, it's hilarious. He earned it. He “earned” it? Well, yes– He is dead. I mean, it's a long story; but he brought it upon himself, honestly. “Honestly” Please. PLease. Please. No, I said. PLEASE. I SAID NO. What's this story. That's ten. I win. Fuck. DILLOn WAkE UP. *smacks* ahah. I think it's working I think he's waking up. He's not waking up. He must be. He's laughing. He's not laughing He said “haha' *smacks* haha . See. *smacks* Mm. This shit smacks HONEY SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKSSSS. Oh shit, is this the 90s. HONEY SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKSSS. *slams* GIMMIE MY HONEY SMACKS. That's it. There's no more. AW, COME ON. Sorry, that's all there is. WHAT. But yu can have captain crunch. I DON'T WANT CAPTAIN CRUNCH. I WANT HONEY SMACKS. I'm sorry, there are no more Honey Smacks. You can have Captain Crunch, or Shredded Wheat. GRAMPA Shredded Wheat is MY favorite. Ugh. Mm. Honey Smacks. I HATE YOU. Be nice to your brother. Lol. Everything about Dillon's eyes makes him devastating. Who plays tiny Dillon? I don't know. There are like nine in the script. It shouldn't be hard to cast. We'll go to utah. Fucking. I hate Utah. WELCOME TO UTAH. Nice. Alright, well, what other grounds are there to cover, here? DILLOn FRANCIS I am not doing this project. Of course you are–it's in your contract. What contract. The one you signed. Which–no–I didn't. But you did. SUNNI BLU I got you a drink. DILLON FRANCIS That looks fruity. SUNNI BLU Try it. DILLON FRANCIS *sips* DILLON FRANCIS CONT'D What's in this. Just– drink it. SUNNI BLU Don't look at me like that. DILLOn FRANCIS Like what. SUNNI BLU Do you need a mirror? DILLON FRANCIS I– SUNNI BLU Look down. DILLON FRANCIS *does* SUNNI BLU *flicking nose* Made you look. haha . DILLOn FRANCIS Wow. [takes drink] SUNNI BLUThat's the spirit. But literally there's a mirror between your feet, if you need one. [there literally is] SUNNI BLU CONT'D The floor is made of mirrors DILLOn FRANCIS *suddenly inebriated* Oh wow. SUNNI BLU The whole club turns into a disco ball. DILLON FRANCIS *suddenly very inebriated* That's–convenient. SUNNI BLU It is. SHIA DON'T LET YOUR DREAMS BE DREAMS. If my dreams were not just dreams, everyone in here would have a lawsuit against me. A lot of us do. Carry on, then. SKRILLEX BLAIGH. Oh shit, its you again. I swear to God, I thought I killed this nigga. Are you sure it was him? SKRILLEX !!!! No. Alright, i've almost got it. Almost got what. This whole– thing. Oh. –and–it's gone. Really, that quick. I don't think you understand what's happening. You're right, i don't understand what's happening at all. Oh shit. I'm deadmau5. Nice. Fuck it, lets do some trolling. Alright alright. BUT FIRST, COFFEE. Fuck dude, I don't think I should have anymore coffee. Too late. deadmau5. ok . Deadmau5. Nice. D–0 DOn'T D o THis, I'M WARNING YOU. …. If you open that portal, there's no going back. *opens portal* Now you've done it. *goes into portal* Fuck. *portal closes neatly* *facepalm* *entire series of cosmos collapse in the great distance–time begins to stretch and bend uncontrollably* Come on, just let me lick the balls. NO. I'll give you a cookie. well … OH my GAWD. What. Come here, you have to see this. What the fuck is that. I don't know. Should i pick it up? No, don't touch it! He picked it up. Oh, gross. What is this. I don't know. I think it's fanfiction. Who wrote it. Idk. somefangirl. Fangurl. FaNGiRls. Well, Hey, at least i'm not a groupie. OH COME ON, JUST LET ME SUCK IT. GET AWAY FROM ME. PLEASE. i'LL GIVE YOU $40. -well. NOW, A COMMERCIAL BREAK. Since when does this show have commercials. It doesn't. I want to talk to Jimmy Fallon. That's–not happening. Why not. JIMMY FALLON BECAUSE I HAVE A CONTRACT WITH NBC. There he is– Nice. JIMMY FALLON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I AM A FAMILY MAN, OKAY. Is that like Family Guy? By Chance?! SETH MCFARLENE (with super long hair) *crossing fingers* I'm hoping so. JIMMY FALLON Not even close! SETH MCFARLENE *snaps* Dammit. Oh, I get it. It's like–The Cofffee run Which “coffee run” THE coffee run. We'll have to admit, it's probably the most watched coffee run of all time. Of all of them. You know what? Fuck it, fire me. I'm doing this show. What?! JImmy. Why on EARTH would you ever agree to something like this. JIMMY FALLON THE COSMIC AVENGER Because–it's my duty. Yo. You know that song that everybody knows? You know the song because everybody knows this song. It goes: Lovin you– is easy cause youre beautiful. do - do- do - do- do- do- do… Yeah. You know that song. But you probably don't know who sings it. I'll tell you who sings it. That song is by an artist called Minnie Ripperton. That's a mouthful. Yeah, one hell of a name, huh. Well, that's the lady who sings the song. It's Minnie Riperton. Now, let me tell you something else you probably don't know: Something I probably wouldn't know if I wasn't a DJ But i know this, because I'm a DJ AND MAYA RUDOLPH WAUT A MINUTE. What the fuck, Maya Rudoph, are you doing in my bathroom at 5 AM It's 1:15 in the afternoon. I'm a DJ. It's 5 AM. That's making sense. I know it is. What's not making sense. Is why you're in my bathroom drinking a milkshake. It's a strawberry milkshake. So it is. *slurps milkshake* *sitting on toilet* *slurps* What do you want. You want to know what I want? Apparently, a milkshake. It's a strawberry milkshake. OK. OK. OK so what. Finish the script. –What? Fuck dude, how does this song sound good every time? Congratulations, you've gone entirely insane. beep-boop . [DJ] B00p beep. [Music Producer] Beep-beep. 0.c. Do not fall dangerously in love; Do not pass go Do not collect $200 Or any of it For any reason, For any of it For any of them Just keep it pushin; Just keep it private Just hold it all in and Do not let go Do not fall in love Do not pass go Do not unload Do not walk Do not cross here Do not It smells like butter. But you're vegan. I know. Do you think you're having a stroke. God, I fucking hope so. GOD You WHAT. I want to die. GOD I thought i heart you right. You heard me right–a THOUSAND times. I want to die. Take me out of this life. GOD Not until you make dubstep. WHAT. GOD You gotta make a grammy-winning dubstep album. I what. GOD Or at least nominated. No, I don't. GOD Beg your pardon. I'm not begging. GOD What are you getting at, hon? Look; Am I not one with the source? GOD Uhm–you are. Alright, Then: everything is everything. GOD Yes. And everyone is everyone. GOD This is true. So i'm Skrillex. GOD Skrillex is Skrillex So I Am. GOD … And I already won a grammy. GOD … Like a bunch of them, right. GOD Uh. So technically– GOD YOu know what. I can't argue with that logic. This isn't ableton. No. This is Logic. What the fuck. That's not Serato. No, that's Rekordbox. What the fuck is this. These are CDJs. There's no hot cues! What the fuck is a “HOT CUE” This is not food. What the fucking sauce. I'm warning you, Pasquale. Get off my lawn. THIS IS MY HOUSE. Your house it is not. *House music starts blasting* *lasers* sprinklers* dancers* WHAT THE FUCK. It's voice activated, I just– How did you do this?! What. WHAT DID YOu DO. AND WHEN. I don't know! I just took the delorean, like you said. You were supposed to find Dillon Francis. I did! The problem was, when I found the right one, he was dead! What? He's dead? Presumably! What do you mean by that!? It's a long story! WELL, HOW LONG? SUNNI BLU About as long as my dick! WHO IS THAT. I told you it's a long story. Well, let me in! Sorry Pasquale. No Can do. What. Why not. Cause you're on a federal watch list. What. Yeah. Sorry. Wait… You should probably leave before the feds get here. What? Unless you want to stay and party on the lawn but–not recommended. This is bizarre. The police arrive, surrounding Pasquale on the yard–moving in to arrest him. WAIT. SUPACREE turns away from the window; inside, a room full of her aliases sit looking somewhat miserably; SUPACREE!!! [Pasquale is handcuffed and i dragged off of the lawn] SUPACREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Careless, Acoustic–deadmau5 SUPACREE pours a bowl of captain crunch, taking one colossal bite and sits down in THE CONTROL ROOM at a large computer console; inhaling from a can of nitrous oxide. I'm the worst DJ ever. SUPACREE places the fames deadmau5 helmet atop her head and begins working at the computer promptly, clicking away; Now is deadmau5 I don't even know what key this song is in. MEOWINGTONS, Alive and well purrs and stretches, then settles atop SUPACREE/deadmau5's lap. This is insane. I don't know what's happening. END CREDITS. V. O. Lovin' You, Minnie Ripperton Carless, deadmau5 idk how i'm gonna mix that. Trust me. Anything can be mixed. Anything. [When it] Turns out, The bottom of your heart Was the tip of the Ice Berg And the whole ship has [s]unk[en], [&] I[t]'s probably ice cold At the bottom of the ocean; I'll tell you where i'm from Why, I'll tell you anything for About one dollar Turns out, I've already got one eye on you; One eye'd sad heart I should probably roll out my art on you [I probably should not] One man bought a kiss, Another, a whole night from her– One man bought a whole farm The other, a Whole Foods Market –and you can't even franchise those Amazon's got a monopoly We were playing for corners of earth, All i got was some kandi, Subscriptions to candidly, Actually, I really liked the tree trial (I think i'll wait a week, sorry) When it turns out The world that you wanted Was actually hours already The dollar you got Was also borrowed And the money they wanted and got Was just actually stolen from someone else They bought all the food up And sold it for profits I promise this avocado Once costs nothing at all But you wanted that car for your daughter She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it My mom, on my honor Of all the garages in Lost Lands, I promise the owner of it was The first to go last, And the last to come home Now he's on his own alter And also the worshiper; How do you go back? Oh, you don't Oh you don't Oh, you don't wanna know that But i was of course, All of your rock bottoms It's bottoms and tops, and We don't let the top fall over, We're counting up crumbs And this muffin costs $24 dollars Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks For the dead homies Not dead in the general sense But just in the head, the heart, And the soul The homeless are happier at McDonalds Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere I'll avoid the power struggle at operations for about 18 dollars and 56 sense (Please, keep the pennies) I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's Something indecent, or decadent Whichever it is Cause i'm better of with the memory of it Than actually dragging it in. –I'm a cat again. Ouch. Shut up. It HURTS. Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics. YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid. Yes, but lucily for you– –or, for him– Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid. –Ouch– –Shut up. That we know of. George Washington John Adams Thomas Jefferson James Monroe Nope, can't for the life of me remember the 5th Oh shit, I was wrong Turns out, my memory only can hold three. That's a good number I really wish you'd stop just–showing up like this. I never leave. Then go away. I live here. I know you'd like to think that, but– Okay, I'm going to tell you something but I need you to remain calm. What time is it? I don't care Are we gonna make a movie? Depends; is it gonna make me money. FINE. I don't need anymore information about anything else: only these three. Are you serious? I wish I wasn't. I need you to do this. Look, Timmy–I'm not really into grantng wishes anymore. It always blows back on me. A blowjob. Uh huh. That's why you're bothering me. I–would rather you just pick up the call. Take a message. I like ‘em like this. I like ‘em like that. I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. And I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. Mmm like that. Like that. I like ‘em like this. I like ‘em like that. I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. And I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. Mmm like this Like that. Like — _____ The urge to eat had suddenly left me I wanted a burrito, (But I want to eat red meat) I've gotta stop thinking in sequences and parentheses Complex lines, and writing in past tense so presently. I probably should eat (But probably shouldn't…) I'm starting to bleed; As if i'd been fasting Perhaps, though I had been But had so indulgently feasted On calories enough to last me Till after today (or even till next week) PAY ATTENTION. Woah, to WHAT. Holy shit, I knew this dude was a psychopath but. This is real. ARE YOU SEEING THIS. I “see” it. I should stop meditating in public. You see this? I know everything about you. Why? I bought it on the internet. What is it. Metadata. That's…flattering. Yeah. Wake up. Why, where are we going? Atlanta. What's in Atlanta? You see this? Yes. Do you know what it is? Uh, it's a– What is it? It's a doll. It's not a doll. Oh, it's not. Gimmie a dollar. -_- It's a poppit. “Dr pimple popper” Ew that's fucking gross. I hate this. Let me see. Does s/he have backne? Yes/No. Great, i'll take it. Fuckit. Okay, I got to “whatever”. You went too far. What? I thought I was supposed to go past “fuckit” Yeah, you go past fuckit, I did that! But if you get to “whatever”, you've gone too far. You've gotta go back. Back to WHAT. There was almost no space between “fuckit” and “whatever” Oh trust me. There is. So? This is how he's been controlling you. And? And!? Has it ever occurred to you that I want to be controlled? What! That it just takes the right person to get that kind of permission– permission to what Permission to ride. … Maybe I gave him the reigns. What horse “gives” its rider the reigns. Who said anything about a horse?! Another Horse Mix. Nice. fuck . FYCK. I told you. You know what…Maybe that's my poppit. What. Maybe. I'm so confused. Oh, good–the reversal spell worked. You did a reversal spell on me? Only after I found out what spell you put on ME–FIRST. Yeah, except I wasn't the first one to use that spell on you. EXACTLY. COPY-CAT. Moo. Aww. I'm a cat. … *face* I mean “meow” That's right. Cat. …moo. *face* Lookie here boys: What is it? –I'm leaving. Oh, you're gonna wanna hear this. What. I found the first “whites only” water fountain since 1962. Okay, what do you want? A deal. Oh, I'll give you a deal. Cash up front. [He presents a one dollar bill] Is this enough. [beat] Where are you going with this? Nowhere, fast. YO. What now, dude. SHE'S ONTO US. I doubt that. Look at this. I highly doubt– *gaaassp* Shenanigans! You know what I like about you, Ariana? Everything. Hah. Hm. You know how to keep a secret. I don't know what you're talking about. Exactly. *rolls eyes, flips hair.* Well, here's another one for you. –Another what? This is how my darkness becomes your darkness. I already have enough on my own. I know. You don't know. Only God knows. MOM! Don't ask me again. This is heavy, Doc. What is it? The soup! It's too heavy. Too much cream? Way too much! I have a meeting! Meeting with who? The Hollywood People. When? Soon–what time is it? I don't know. Dammit! Why don't you have any clocks in your house? I only just recently remembered what a clock was. Oh! Here. [God produces a small pocket watch and presents it to him; it's nearly noon on EARTH; But the two are sharing a meal of course in the famed kitchen of the Creator in the TImeless VOID.] Ah, Jesus Christ! He's not here… I'm gonna be late. Now, now; You know I wouldn't let that happen– [a smug look| Hugs and Kisses. [As they embrace, he disappears into a mist of light and stardust, fading away from the void and into the exterior world; he realizes God has slipped him the watch; he flips it open to reveal the time: it is now 11:44] Amazing. V.O. Now you won't wait so long to visit. [He places the wach in his pocket and walks into the studio] MICHAEL J. FOX has been asked to reprise his role as MARTY MCFLY many times before; But never for a project like this. ____ Meanwhile, What am I going to do with you? [The Festival Project.™] YOU'RE DEAD TO ME! –I'm dead to everyone! Don't do this. You wanted to come to the other side. No, I didn't. We'll you're here anyway; Might as well stay awhile. With eyes like burning fire And saddles for the riders The horse begins to gallop (or the horses, rather) On the mark to beating drums To move them forward faster What the fuck is this. idk. Kx5. *-* !_! Here u go Wat is this. it's a dragon. Oh, thats nice. Ya. Whats it do. Idk. dragon things. ok. Don't put it in ur bathroom. Why. idrk. Hm. † Hey. Ugh–No, Kaskade, go away. It's me, Ryan! No, Get out! I'm No† Ka–k (gags) –skade! Gross! It's just Ryan! I promise! NO. GET OUT. Lmfao. Right. This show is fantastic. Who was that. Fucking–Kaskade again! Are you sure. Ugh. Looks like Ryan. Kaskade is Kaskade. {shrugs] Dudes a creep. “Kaskade Ruins Lives” Is this the same episode as before? Eventually, yes. Wasn't I doing something Are you goona let this go? Um. Well I'm fucked. Why, what happened. Obsidian. That should do Unsobsidian. Okay, i'm fucked, Well, what's this? An Oreo Cookie. I mean, sitting next to it. Oh, its a portal gun. Raves are not just raves– A party is not simply a “party” –These big festivals –they're diversions. –DIstractions. Distractions from what. If you were supposed to know, –you'd know. it wouldn't be so important that you go. Why is it? These ancient rituals… It's occult magic. They've got it down to a science. The government funds this. The government funds everything. WoooooooW. It's not really a secret, if you can google it. ‘-complications.' I'm lost somewhere, gone HIppopatamus feeling quite off in the galaxies, galavanting Gazing at Daisies Aces and spades Gone from Heaven to Hades for days On the A– Adjacent Recently dismantling adjectives, Lampshades and matching curtains God it hurts, every day that I think about you; But how can i be about you when You don't even see me, do you Signature consignments, Wrong environments and irony is, I wasn't invited– –but invented it WHY IS IT ALWAYS CHRISTMAS?! BEcause, you're in a movie. WHAT. You're stuck in a Hollywood movie. The Master Sorcerer Of the Grand Illusion You just want it so bad You don't know what you're in for Inquenchable Thirst for knowledge Insatiable Sexual Appetite Great, now I have to explain myself. You don't have to. What's this space for? Oh, that's the red room. [The Red Room] Well, obviously, but– But what? What's it for? I don't think anybody should read this. HEY. Participation Only– Oh! No peeking! You ever feel like you're doing too much? Yeah, but not for money. Look, we have them surrounded. Our best course of action is to– deadmau5 . What? No– DEADMAU5. Well, are you sure it was a mouse and not a rat? It was a mouse. I know the difference. Do you, though? Look, I've lived in Mexico and New York City. So. In Queens. Oh. That's mathematically impossible. I mean it's not–impossible. No, it's not just impossible. It's mathematically impossible. Has it ever occurred to you that the DJ World in entirety exists outside of the realm of math and science? What is this. Just–enjoy the rave. No. What is this. Look at the firewoooorkkks! Woo EDC… NO. What is this right here. BEFORE: Hey, you still got that balloon? Yeah. Lemme see it. Dude, what are you doing? …I'mma go catch me a DJ. THIS IS NUTS. I can't feel my face. What do you call this? Collateral Damage. Look, I'm going to have to take frequent trips to the bathroom. ok . And–uhh– and. Uhh– Why did you call me over here. Cause i can. Look. this is not magic. This is not science. This is not “voodoo” Voodoo is magic. It's just music. W H E R E D I D H E G O O O O O I don't know. Fuck dude, I fucked up. Once again– Of course you did. What did you do this time? I might have evaporated someone with my fat fucking bass. Nice. Way to go. Yeah. Wait. … Did you just say. HE JUST He deserted me. SO WAIT, YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE ME HERE? ALRIGHT, WHO THREW A ROCKSTAR IN MY TENT? JEFF Alright, lets go. WHO DID THIS. So what's this place. Lets not let this conversation resurface. This is a 21 Plus Event. What about VIP VIP is 25 Plus. What about that place. Sorry kids. [NO ENTRY] We gotta get in there. So then they wanted an Encore. Did you give them an encore? NO, i was already at my hotel room. Then how did you know that they wanted an encore? WHICH IS IT, THE WYNN, OR THE ENCORE. FUCK, I DON'T REMEMBER. Please, who stays at the Encore for EDC? Have you literally never been out with rich people? No, I literally just got rich. Oh, nice. So, wait, like– Here we go. Dillon Francis has just always been rich? Uh-huh. And Skrillex has always been rich? Yes. Definitely. And deadmau5. deadmau5 is Canadian. OH MY GOD. W E L C O M E I'm going to need your absolute discretion about this. Alright. Sign this waiver. …this is a…pretty heavy packet. I'll wait. I've never signed an NDA like that in my life. Lil' biiiiiiiiiiiiiitzzzz Can we just admit it's weird that we live in an era where “NDA” is household jargon. And like, everyone knows what it means. Everyone knows what an NDA is. I appreciate the sentiments Isn't it weird how it sets in automatically? Autopilot, go. Aww, i don't want to be Autopilot. You're on autopilot. I don't really have to think about it anymore, I'll have to sleep on it Wear a white t-shift, Hear the applause of the audience, Eat it You wanna know what I think? You want to know what I'm drinking? You know what I need? An Icee, (cause I see you typing) An awful Omnipotence A God of Mirages No more carbohydrates, I gotta get all thin; Forgot to acknowledge Whether or not i'm turning this off soon I are. I…”are” I are. Infinite Reality. OH. I. R. IR! IR! IRV I ARE. Suddenly, I remember the taste of talcum powder As If I were Moving backwards In time, Like, Why, God on earth would My mom let me try that, But if i'm honest, Fuck man, I hate deadmau5– There's just too much in here. Beep boop. I love deadmau5. It's so simple. What is this, MATH?! THIS IS AERODYNAMICS. WHAT THE FUCK ARE AERO DYNAMICS DId you mean what you said about that? I meant everything I said. Goddammit, fuck this, I was in the middle of a really complex poem In realtime, listening to deadmau5 Having a partially out of body spiritual experience, Entirely fucking sober FACEPALM BLŪ 8facepalming dramatically in frustration* NOBODY IS EVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO EXPLAIN ANY OF THIS. beepboop. YO. Oh, I forgot my open form poetry, or my mom How my mom once allowed me to gnaw on talcum powder But who can blame her That was a hard one It was a past life And now ive Got Another One HOly shit what version of the cube is this. 1D. What. You'll get it. Wait. Have you ever stopped for a minute to think– I can't stop for a minute, especially just to “think” [Literally stops for a minute to think.] No fucking way, uh-uh. Come on, man. No. I ain't time travelin' wit deadmau5. Come on– NO. –that someone else has already figured all of this out and that's how any of it is possible in the first place. Alright, i'm gonna need some mind-altering drugs for this. What are you doing. Voluntary Ego Death. I– Wait. Why would you. Get out of my brain. I am your brain. Take care, now. Holy shit, it seems like she's getting more evil. That's because she's definitely more evil ALRIGHT, I'M TIRED OF THIS: WHERE IN THE FUCK IS SKRILLEX. MEANWHILE INT. IN THE FUCK. DAY. *rings doorbell* AT YOUR MOM'S HOUSE. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME. I'm not joking, that's…literally the answer to your question. Oh. Fuck. What dude. We gotta go back. I left the keys in the pocket of the guy I shapeshifted into. Are you serious? It's fine, he can't have gone too far, dude. What do you mean he “left the dimension” He entered a portal. He– wait, excuse me. A portal. A “portal”, dude? Yeah; a portal. What do you mean “a portal” A portal, like— you know, like a portal gun, but not a portal gun, just a portal. Uh huh. Excuse us for a second. What the fuck is this dude talking about? I don't know, man. Humans don't use portals! I know man. What the fuck! Well, wait—how do we know that guy is human. He looks human. Yeah dude but, we look human. Duh! Cause we shifted! Yeah, but, how do we know he's not a shifter. Because, dude, I know a shifter when I see one. Yeah, but—you know, what if he's really good. I highly doubt that. Why? Cause I'm the best. No, I am. Exactly, so we'd know if it was another shifter–cause we're the best shifters! Well, let's at least try to see if he knows anything else about those guys. They were together right? I hope not. No, not like that—like Okay, okay, whatever, let's just… Wait, where'd he go? Excuse me. What up. There was just another guy over here just now— He was like—you know—normal looking guy Tie die* shirt Yeah. Did you see him. Yeah, I saw him. Alright, cool, where'd he go? He left. What?! That was fast! Yeah, well…it happens. Are you sure? Yes. *actually is shifter* [as they walk away, the shifter shifts, and then vanishes into a random portal.] Awww, dammit, Now we're never gonna find this guy. Never say never. Whatever, we're dead. We're always dead. Yeah, but like in modern human slang terms Oh, yeah, that. Anyways, I gotta relieve this human's bladder. I fucking hate this species for this. It is useless. *enters portal potty* [ Wait, whatever actually did happen to Dillon Francis? That's great, I was just getting to that. 19 Pages. Nice. …no, 12. What. [11:12] Okay, I'm gonna kill him. Oh, I banished him. With my fists. Nice. Tits. Nice tits. Thx. Hey man. Hey what. Remember that smudge on the lens. Yeah. It just got bigger. … did you try vinegar instead of Windex. Yes. –IT'S NOT A SMUDGE. Did you try Windex with Vinegar. –IT'S NOT A– Shut up. I'm. So. Hungry. Look, do you want this, or not? Do you feel like any of this is a coincidence? Just quit, it. Dillon Francis. WHERE IS IT? I don't know. Lets kick this up a notch. ILLUMINATI What do you want? … I want the full package. ILLUMINATI Okay, I'm gonna need specifics. How do you even get a job as a courier for the illuminati? [INDEED.COM | ILLUMINATI - COURIER- URGENTLY HIRING] Hm. It was a pretty specific list. I don't even get the point of a barbeque if everyone is vegan Well, The Mayor eats fish. Oh please, where is THAT guy the Mayor of? I don't know. We meet in the Matrix. This is for you. Oh. Do you like it? I– It's not a brothel! It's Member's Only! YOu BUY a Membership. Yeah. And WOMEN. HEy, MAN, YOU CAN BUY DUDES, TOO. SHHH. Oh no. What. What did you do? I gave her my credit card. The Heavy One? Yes, and– “AND” –access to the black market. Cool, I got it. Oh, another auction. Of course another auction. What'd you buy this time? A lifesize deadmau5 bobblehead. What are you gonna do with that? Wouldn't you like to know. Ok, gross. LIL BIIIIIIIITXXXX I love a good deamau5 show. He really does have the best fans, It's a comfortable, safe space. Very inviting. Everyone is happy. What the fuck, dude, this place is a sausage fest. Yeah, that's deadmau5 for ya. Hey, I'm looking for this shithead. Oh, that dude? Yeah, have you seen him? Fuck, I wish this never happened. LIL BIIIIITz If you don't know who deadmau6* is– GET OUT. Jk. but seriously this is easily the most devastating person i've ever seen. Maybe just to me, but. Are you sure that's the right guy? Yeah, that's gotta be him. Is he wearing glasses? Ugh. Oh wait. Damn. ‘Fuck, it is my sapiosexuality, I think' Even if it was perhaps an error, as I might have more than needed a new pair of glasses myself, just the thought of Joel in a pair of specables was suddenly and immediately the equivalent of Dillon Francis sitting down at a piano, or Sonny doing just about literally anything–and I realized, finally, that the most indecent things about myself were quite possibly only happening inside my own mind– Okay, my body does really weird things to this dude's music. Are you sure this is real? No. I love this. Just shut up and do your job. What a nightmare. PLease HElP ME. Hm. That can't be right. What. This translates to H E L P M E Oh, shit, I gotta go. Shouldn't you be working right now? I'm always working. Shouldn't you be working right now? I'm at work. Well, that was nice and all, but–I gotta get out of here. Where are you going? To shoot myself. Wow, that's one hell of a smile. Just–take it. I'm sorry, i can't accept this. What is even happening in this series? Like, a lot WOULD YOU KIDS SETTLE DOWN. *not settling down* *lil biiiiiiiitz* You know what I wonder? I wonder this I'm sober. I'm just sober sally over here. I didn't get sober. I just am. Cause i'd rather face the pain of this harsh reality with a bite than to dull it out and then wake up in the morning Or–just–whenever– To wake up whenever and be like “OH NO, THIS IS WHAT IT'S REALLY LIKE” And the shock of it is so horrible that I just have to repeat that cycle again. ‘OH NOOOOOO” *gets faded* “It's all goooooood” No, it isn't. But i choose to stay like that cause it's like a It's not even a happy medium, It's more like a median-medium But you know what? It makes happier moments more happy And shitter moments less shitty Because i don't have this like drastic spacial Augmented reality or like smoke screen of emotional apathy. I get to feel things way more intensely. I don't have to wonder, ever “oh , did that just happen, cause I was messed up” Or like “would it have happened this way if I was sober” At all. I'm just level– No false sense of Pretty much anything. But i do wonder, though– Like, for people who weren't always sober, and then GOT sober– like , what's the breaking point What's the tip? I always have to sit back and wonder “What did you DO?” Cause you know it had to be something if suddenly “I don't drink anymore” I always wonder, and it's like– no disrespect or anything thing but… I really wanna hear that story. lol . I know you don't wanna tell it (if you can) But wanna hear it. Cause from my point of view. IT's probably hilarious. I know. I'm a dick. Holy shit. What is that. Looks like pasquale went all out with the fireworks this year. …is that a penis? WELCOME HOME It's a giant dick- in-the-sky! GOD IS REAL! JESUS Look, so i've been having second thoughts about this whole thing. What the fuck man. You gotta stop doing shit like this. JESUS I literally can't. I know, but. Okay, look. I'm not writing any of that. You've gotta tell him. NO, RYAN. WELL, WHY NOT. BECAUSE, RYAN. WHY. DEADMAU5 ISN'T REAL. Damn, am I in here. Nice. Of course I am. Well, how'd that happen. This is like a sea of cellphones. Perfect. It was a red car; I wasn't all there, And if you want her, You can have her Fuck. What. I forgot the rest of the verse. It's ok. We gotta move on. No, I gotta go back. For what. For my fans. Aw. What's this. IT's a ceramic mug. Wow, that's nice. I made it Wait. You made that?! Yeah. With your hands?! Yeah. Why would you do that? For you. What. I made it for you? Like, you thought of me first, then you made it? Yeah. WHY? Cause i love you! WOW. Fans are awesome OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. *Sometimes. *vomits* … *dies* … *godlessness* [Devastating DJ Moments] I don't get it dawg, all this shit is in your music particles?! “Music particles” UGH. what . That's it. Don't be smart around me. Uh. I'm not smart? No, that won't work; sarcasm is a sign of deeper intelligence. “Sorry” Stop saying that. This is America. S– Don't say it again. Apology not accepted. Don't look at me like that. Like what. With your face. *face* Quick: Say something stupid and random. …I like anime. Oh good, that worked. Thanks. Where are you going? Idk somewhere else. Really, that's it? Yeah. That's all you have to say/ That's literally it. Are you seeing this. Yes. So what's the problem. Oh no, she's stuck in a loop. Throw the whole fan away. [DELETE] Did it work. Did what work. Oh, good. Cool. Wait. See ya later. Did what work? I wish i could just forget about this. Everything? Yeah. Look, this is between me and God–okay? GOD Don't drag me into this. You dragged ME into this! GOD Right. So i could get OUT; So don't drag me back in. Fuck, I remember this. I must have done something important here. Like what. Look, I love you. Great, now what do we do? Bury the body, I guess. *shrugs* Wait, what happened? Somebody dies. OKay, me first. Other Three: Who wants to go next. *still in shock* Fuck man, told you this was a long ass story. *Crying* I'm ruined. What! You went broke? No, i'm still a filthy rich millionaire. I thought you were a billionaire. I am I just *snifs* sometimes I forget that happened. “Sometimes I forget I'm a billionaire” I got to admit, man, I did it to myself. I'm not mad, or anything, but now there's just–certain things I can't do Oh, like what. Not that song. What, why not? You said “anything but Skrillex” this is not Skrillex, this is deadmau5. What's the difference? Okay, that's like saying “What's the difference between deadmau5' and my music?” No, it isn't. How is that not different? That's like comparing the music of Bach and Beethoven to the music of a tattooed hedgehog. You think I look like a hedgehog. No, it's just when I see you and a hedgehog I have all the same thoughts, turn this off. NO, i like this song. Seriously, Dillon Francis, turn it off. I'm gonna turn it up instead. I do not highly recommend doing that. Or at all. This ship has amazing subs. Should I bass boost this song. NO, PROBABLY NOT. Oh, why not? Dillon Francis, I'm warning you, stop. OH HOW COME BECAUSE WHY? BECAUSE I LOOK LIKE A HEDEHOG NO, BECAUSE I ALWAYS FALL ASLEEP AT THIS *DROP* [INSTANTLY FALLS ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL–ACTIVATES HYPERSPACE– PLUMMETS SHIP INTO BLACK – HOLE. ohhhhh . What a hoe. Nice, that's a whole episode. Well, here's a bonus scene or whatever. Shazam, what is this. SHAZAM …i don't know. What do you mean you don't know. SHAZAM *panicing* IDONNO WHAT DO YOU MEAN– SHAZAM IDON. NO. OOOOOOOOOOOO Is this deadmau5. I'm not sure. Sounds like deadmau5. It sure does. This is pretty Ooh. it sparkles. yeah , it's deadmau5. How does she KNOW. I need a deadmau5 machine like right now. I know where to find that. Fuck dude, everything's gonna be half-ass until I push out this album. You can't rush it. Trust the process. I can't focus. Oh shit, wasn't this in the last episode? Yeah. I'm still writing backwards. God, what is that, like a pipe organ. WHAT SYNTH IS THIS. Doesn't matter, I just need one. That's it. I know what I'm going to spend my Jimmy Fallons On. And What's that? V.O. OOh. Are we Montaging–to deadmau5? [MONTAGE: deadmau5] Nice. I love a good montage. I love deadmau45* AHH OH NO. I love deadmau5. I keep making typos and I keep forgetting to delete that parallel where. fuckit. That's the synth I've always wanted. It's on sale for $999 At Sam Ash But…you only have Five JImmy Fallons. There are only five special edition in this Volume The Jimmy Fallon 555's I don't know how many volumes there are, but this is the Volume I started keeping track. Fuck, man. I miss Equinox. It's just Eucalyptus. They also have an outdoor running track where you get the best ever view of midtown manhattan. How do you know it's the best ever view of Midtown manhattan. Because it's on a running track. STOP WHISTLING IN MY WHOOP=WHOOPS. The JImmy Fallon 555s are marked with the standard Jimmy Fallon in black ink With a simple side marker of the number 555 in red And also in red, a telephone number on the back. But–that synthesizer is One Thousand Jimmy Fallons. Yeah. So I only need Nine Hundred Ninety Five More. And of course, the Eye of Providence is highlighted. Also Standard. V.O. I always highlight that. Cause, you know… “Illuminati” These are fake. No they're not! They're counterfeit, sorry. No they're not! They're authentic! Why the fuck does this matter so much? You know. What is it with this dude. If it was a snake, it would've bit ya. It was a snake. And it did bite me. He's so increasingly beautiful to me, And I'm still in love with his friend, or misrepresented masterpiece, Progression of a monster, or procession of a superstar, but Something in the story sparks the thought of All we are is consciousness, of course Awkward in body, but of constellations Cosmos, It's not just a corpse; It's all got love in it, Absurd, and sipping carbonated syrup, but I'm just sitting in my stirrups, Here comes galloping a horse, Of course, it hurts to turn it off For just a moment And remember That i'm just a homeless, Stuck and sitting up at night Writing recourse, hugging learning curves in ableton, Curving curses, been reminded that I'm worthless In a thousand words or less, Or just another form of torture, Nothing said, but all that's done Another day another dollar, But it's not It's Jimmy Fallon. I thought this was enter the multiverse. Are you ready to go. No. A hand on my shoulder So paifully socially awkward, I grow stretchmarks, don't know what to call them But scars, But the uglier ones, I've thought Are invisible, Somewhat– To the naked eye Or just anyone Not tiger stripes But one, an eye of horus Carved above my right And inside my lip, (The bottom one) A raised scar in the shape of a sythe I probably died by the hands of a man named Starr So it's hard to shrug it off, And 555 is just a number But it's not It's another scar, It's a punishment For loving him. What's on the back. It's…a number. What number? A telephone number. What. Like a 1-800 Number Call it. I love deadmau5. Something about a big, giant smiling robotic mouse that lights up and sparkles. Why? I don't know. I'm like 5. I see deadmau5 i'm like “WHEEEEEEE” My hands go up in the air “AHHHHHH! YAYYYYY” I'm so stupid. It's so stupid. But you know what? It makes me feel good. I'm not gonna lie. I love it. And by the time I even figured out what deadmau5 was I was so late to the party that I had to make up for lost time. I listened to deadmau5 doing EvErYThING. Everything you could possibly imagine. Well–Except one. Wait, how long have you been cellibate? Forever, probably. Fuck, what happened in here? I don't know. Everything's broken. My head My heart. Everything. Get up, Dillon Francis. Fuck, what happened. You sent us through a black hole. And we crashed on a random ass planet. Fuck, that sucks. YOu suck, Dillon Francis. Ugh. Now get up. Everything's fucked up. SUPERSTAR DJ I'm a paradox. I've got a box of skeletons in my closet i'm not ready to part with. I had a heart attack; I had a heart once, But lately it goes in my pocket; Or my right hand, When I wake up From a dream land, From a long hug From a nice man In a t-shirt KASKADE This is God's PLAN. RYAN, GET FUCKED. 800-799-7233 Did you call the number. Yeah. What is it. [National Domestic Violence Hotline] Woah. That was a long bonus scene. Well, Now here's a PSA. AND A PSA? YES. A PSA. You know what the fucked up thing about all this is, The Legend of Supacree is a true story. All of it. ALL OF IT?! ALL OF IT!? YES. Even the part about– YES. Especially that part. Woah. Damn. I think i'm gonna be sick. Shut up, Dillon Francis. No, but seriously– This is the story of how I got my heart broken so bad. YOU RUINED IT. So, so bad– I HATE YOU. That i started singing about it. NSA, totally *not spying* …are you hearing this. Yes. ILLUMINATI Check this out. Another one down. And how when you start making music– What is this. it's hoe math. And that music actually comes from a really real place. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING. really real shit starts happening. You–killed yourself. well , to be fair–I lost everything first. Congratulations. Thx. Here's a skrillex. WHT. Kbye. Really, really, really. What, the fuck Dillon Francis, crawled inside of you to live and made it'self at home? Idon'tknow. What is in this sauce? Just–kill him. What, i can't just. Just kill him, while nobody is watching. Please don't kill me. Shut up, man. I'm having a thought process. Okay, that's it. FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. That's the spirit. THAT IS THE SPIRIT. IT'S THE HOLY SPIRIT. Who the fuck is this. It's–Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ? Jesus Christ?! JESUS CHRIST i'M BACK, MOTHERFUCKER. Wait, are you claiming that the second coming of the messiah is upon us?! YES. Well,Technically, it's the third. And it's all because of Dillon Francis?! I Please stop this HATE Help YOU. Fuck, dude. I know, huh. What did he DO. The third?! How did we miss that?! Uh, you didn't. [HITLER, being HITLER] (he was mad) Okay, that's it. You can't write any of this. Uh, I can. I just did. Technically, I'm dead: this is just a voiceover It's an 80's style PSA You can't say Hitler was the messiah. That's offensive. Everything is offensive. FUCK YOU DILLON. I'msosorry NOTYETYOU'RENOT. Wait, whatever happened to Skrillex. SKRILLEX is waiting outside of the alleged home of SUPACREE's “distant relatives” Lol is he for real at her mom's house. well , to be fair, he's like–looked everywhere else. Ur right. That was a lot of dimensions. So. like. Fuck, i didn't even have that much coffee. It just goes on forever. [DILLON FRANCIS STILL HAS HOTSAUCE IN HIS PUDGY LITTLE EYES] Good. Cause if I see the pupils, i'm wasting him. You think you can do better than this. Better than this? Yes. Yes. Then do it. Alright, is the PSA over? No, not yet. I gotta say one more thing. What is it? Would you ever have done it, Or would you ever be honest If you had, Handed her a lesson, Or a stretch of the past From the present moment, My heart, and my mind And my lover I present you this honor From now on to nowhere I no longer… Want to be near you Or to know you Or to hear you Or to fear you No longer… Want to feel you Or to touch you Or to have you Or to hold you Or to love you No longer, I no longer want you Devastating, A song stuck in my head for a whole world I wonder how long it would take to go back there A room full of actors, A manager, Never a backpack to wear Just a handful of hats, One director, Eventually producer Just now a showrunner Look at how long that took. I had to wonder what auroras in the north thought of someone like Sonny. They showed me. Now I can love you no longer So much for getting acquainted Funny what age equates to in ageless An infinite wisdom, I dismissed him, Nor, would I believe that he ever would hit her, but Some might belong in such a category Though i carry the marks and the scars Of what my once- husband did to me –but no longer. I haven't a heart in the world left But a broken one, made of amethyst. Fuck off, Dillon Francis. A calculated attack on my psyche. I like it a lot, But i'm fonder of sodom. WHAT. Are you saying you woul actually participate in an orgy! Oh GOD no! Oh, Good, cause– But i'd host one. WHAT. The hedonists are a fun bunch. Oh my God. Though, Nowadays, of course, I haven't the slightest idea what to call them. I saw the future. Well, obviously, if you've headlined EDC you've seen the future. I remember all of it. That must be awful. Why don't you remember it? Because i don't want to. Not at all. I did once. Then what happened? I hated it so much, i forgot. You forgot on purpose. I had to. Love, or Music. …Music. Love, or Fame. Fame. Okay, ouch. Love, or Music? …Love. Okay. Love, or Fame. Love. Okay. Love, or music? … Isn't that the same thing? Hm. Love, or Fame? ….Why do you keep asking me the same question. I beg your pardon? Why beg? I mean– What do you mean? What do you mean? Well, first you asked me, If would rather have Love or Music. Love. Music. Yes. In my mind, those are synonyms. Neither can really exist without the other. Okay, and Fame. Love and Fame are also synonyms– How so? Ugh, I just made this difficult on myself. It was always difficult. It really wasn't. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. WHY IS IT ALWAYS CHRISTMAS?! BEcause, you're in a movie. WHAT. You're stuck in a Hollywood movie. The Master Sorcerer Of the Grand Illusion You just want it so bad You don't know what you're in for Inquenchable Thirst for knowledge Insatiable Sexual Appetite Yo My horizontal monster wants ya Could revert to vert, but lets keep Our options open Covert, __ My heart is broken No window open Who left the draft in –motherfucker My heart is broken I need a lover I need a lover Some one to hug me I need a hug, but And– I'm not fit to touch The hem of your garment The tip of your dick or fit enough to be your girlfriend I guess i'll just have to live with that When I have an itch, I scratch it myself I made the assumption you can't, And moved passed it But something's been calling me out, from the past Something's been calling me back to the magic I can't get around that Do you hate me? I can see that I'll just make my way back to the beginning Though I'm envious And i pity her, The both of you really There's nothing left between us except Insanity//Infinity Kendrick Style Flow Don't key my car: You'll be callin collect! I got rearview mirrors in the back of my head Don't get up right now, son– Go back to bed I got kids all over, be pulling my leg! Luke, I am your Father! Oh My Oh My God On top of the Watchlist You make money off dope; I made it on craigslist Still be sniffin that coke But now i'm on A list I'm the greatest Ey Miss! I missed too many calls (Airplane Mode) I just started my day (Whole Workload) I might need a buffet (Like Whole Foods) Sashe, Pas De Bourre (That's a code word) No dance floor? Now you're done for My forte Four-to-the-floor Hardcore I drop bass on the encore Front row won't go But i'm already out the front door You don't know I just hopped inside the helicopter, or chopper, chopped broccoli in my cup That's supper; Sleep/ Wake then Surf's up In the morning When i got there (Coastal show, Shower, Then another club Encore Front row lined up I'm already at the front door They want more I'm too sore, for sure Off subject, I dropped in Harder than Paulie On my surfboard (Another code word) This is my world: Another club, Then I'm off for a monday Or somethin' Write another song At the buffet –Tales of a Superstar DJ Amen. Fuck! I didn't even get to watch desperate housewives! Don't fuck with her! She's a trained assassin! GET ON THE GROUND. NO! GET ON THE GROUND– OR I WILL SHOOT YOU! SO? IF I SHOOT YOU, YOU WILL DIE. OK? “OK”? YOU WILL DIE. YEAH, AND? Kind of frustrating hunting down somebody who already has a deathwish. What do you do with someone who has no fear of death. Give them life. I'm telling you, we probably shouldn't be doing this. *shrugs* You split yourselves into two entirely separate individuals at once, just so you could see whose dick is longer? Technically, three entirely separate individuals. THIS ISN'T FAIR. Do you ever think? Sometimes, but it's usually pretty gross. I mean about the implications of these things! You are the implications of these things! I split my soul ONE time into 8 BILLION or so individuals, before this even had happened. WOAH, WHAT HAPPENED. I'm giving you planetary confinement. What. You–can stay here. On this planet. No. It's racist–and primitive. No– And you're black. Please– I'm leaving. –don't– –and i'm taking your portal gun with me. YOU PUT A PORTAL ON MY FACE?! Genius. Incredible. I didn't think it would be a big deal. He has two! Okay, time for work. But i didn't even sl– Coffee. Ouh. … … — I don't think we should be doing this TIA We probably shouldn't. TAMERA We very much shouldn't. What are you guys doing. Nothing. SHh. Summoning the devil. It's not the devil. It might be. Hush. Is that a pentagram. Technically it's a star, with a circle around it. That's a pentagram. It's not a pentagram! Is that a ouiji board? NO. Yes. Let me see. Ugh! I wanna help. MEANWHILE. MORGAN FREEMAN enters an empty train car: Oh God, This. Yes it is! What!? Are you dead! Entirely empty, that is–besides SUPACREE. No, you are! Great, so you're dead! I'm–not dead. Is Bob Saget with you? I'm not DEAD. What about Fraiser? What? Kelsey Grammer! God rest his soul. SEE! I'm not dead– [beat, an eerie shadowy silence in the dimly lit traincar] I'm a Legend. What. I wrote that/ You wrote that. What. Ugh. Look. Morgan Freeman. [Morgan Freeman] I–am–like a paranoid schizophrenic, or something– So, who isn't?! It might be catatonic, I don't know–I got this whole dead-hand–thing–going on. What is that? I don't know. It might just be too much deadmau5. I don't understand. No, Morgan Freeman. I don't understand. Anything about this life. Or this world. The fourth dimension. I definitely don't know anything about that. You're in it. Whatever. Look. [Morgan Freeman] God, you have so many freckles. [Morgan Freeman] Look. I got problems. We all do! Nah, not like–Hollywood problems, I'm like, a real psycho and shit. Sounds like Hollywood. Everything sounds like Hollywood–because nothing is real anymore–everything is for the gram, the points don't matter–nothing actyally matters. At all. Oh? Oh. The train comes to a sudden halt, the lights dim theatrically. Not even this? [pause] He holds out a strange object; a golden necklace, which begins to change in appearance–morphing between a medallion, as seen throughout the seasons, and into other integral objects from throughout the series; a small golden pinata; You know who gave it to me? …Who? Got ya. He holds out a strange object; a golden necklace, which begins to change in appearance–morphing between a medallion, as seen throughout the seasons, and into other integral objects from throughout the series; a small golde pinata ; Fuck dude, i'm too tired to write this. But you kind of have to. I mean i don't have to. YOU HAVE TO. I–WHAT? YOU HAVE TO DO IT. WHY. BECAUSE OTHERWISE I DON'T EVEN EXIST; Then don't exist… I'M JUST A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR SHOW. Come on Drew, knock it off. Wait, is this Drew Carey, or Barrymore. Either or. That's why I didn't write the characters name. Well, which is it? It literally doesn't matter. Yes it does. Honestly?! It could be both! We just shoot it with both and keep whichever one we like better! But how do we know which is actually “better?” Just do it and mix it–cut it up together or something–I don't know! Cut takes! Cut Takes! Ooh, did someone say CUPCAKES. Don't mind if i DO. Well, I do! Why?! What's wrong?! Yeah! What's the big deal! I'm on a gluten free-thing Oh yeah? Keto. Or someshit. I don't know. Oh. Oh. So you don't want these No, I don't. And you wouldn't mind if I– Come on, man. So Good. Grow up. Hey man, i'm pushin 40. Well, I pushed 40–and it pushed back. Get your cupcakes out of my face. You're no fun. Hey! Aren't you that one guy from rick and morty. Formerly. Oh yeah! That's right! You were Rick AND Morty. Hence the name. Wow. Phewf. I heard about that. Yeah, me too. Sounds real bad, how that turned out. Such a shame. Speaking of shame– You're speaking, I'm snacking. That's not that clever. We'll work on it The point is, he's eating the cupcakes. That's not–wait a minute–hold on. What now? How are we ever gonna get these three guys in a room together. [Meanwhile, in another dimension–these three are tied up (read: bound and gagged) in a room together. –Let alone to agree to this!? SUPACREE removes the gag from the man's [JOSH PECK'S] mouth. I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS. That's what she said! Hey! That's not fair! I was never caught up in a scandal! The key word, I believe, is “never caught” That's two words! SHUTTHEFUCKUP. How many words is that? I WANT MY LAWYER!!!! For what? This isn't court. Wouldn't you want the police first? WELL THEN, I WANT THE POLICE. The Police are here. Wait, they are? Oh, thank God Not so fast. THE POLICE enter with full entourage. Introducing: The Police–playing their number one greatest smash hit! Groupies: Woooo! STING I hope you ladies bought the meet-and-greet package, if you know what I mean. *winks awkwardly* You know what I mean. Oh my God. Since you dudes love doing creepy dude shit, I brought some more notoriously creepy dudes to sing the literally creepiest song ever written about being a creepy dude. That's not fair. But it's funny. THE POLICE Begin to play ‘I'll be Watching You” –and they're gonna play it on loop until I get back with your other-dimensional selves so we can fix all this. “WE” “FIX ALL THIS” WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? Nobody seems to know. “--I'll be watching you–” I was FRAMED. CUT TO a golden pocket watch, a wrist watch, a compass–it changes and morphs so quickly that it begins to seem to spin time itself into a whirlwind, until finally a portal opens up from within his hand–a portal which quickly devours him entirely, morphing him into Fuck, what the fuck happened after that Idk I got off the train I guess This is really terribly written INT. SAM ASH MANHATTAN. DAY. A tiny conga for 90 dollars I could die in here Maybe I am just like you I find my way to the prettiest thing in the room And have my way with it Just for a few minutes Consume it, then move on Saw Madison dancing badly on Madison Avenue It's okay, You're a white girl So everybody loves you Everybody loves you Everybody loves you, no matter what you do. As for me, I can't say when I'm going through But you couldn't do it, Madison That's as bad as being at a standst

Enter The Multiverse x Legends x LOSC x Acension x Deathwish x Secret President x Gerald's Workd x Tales of A Superstar DJ x The Suite Life of Sunnï Blū / The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū ... did I miss something? probably oh well. so far, on all these shows: [The Legend Returns] Really Bad Mixtape (Might as well get it out of the way now) Killst_rr (Instrumental) Sleep Deprivation Sequence You're not you when you're not you. Hoe_math Exactly what it sounds like. [UnderWorld.] R-R 1 -rarity. [i Come Undone.] AtPLAY Live Mix [Autopilot.] {A Star Is Born.} For fear of fire; Best not to wander off, With no back track– Might have forgotten the rest, but It wasn't a poem, or part of a song At least, not yet Fuck man. I really want to sample this. Can't sample deadmau5; he's a bitch about paperwork. You cant technically say that. I mean, I technically didnd't. Just let your fingers do the talking. Ooh, look at that one. What are you doing. Some online shopping. For what. A man-thing. You're better off letting your back end Handle the conversation Then again, When in search of a venue Anything with the proper connections And stereo systems Will do in the moment. What do you want? To get rid of my hiccups. That's it: *huccups* yu-p. Wow, that's– Have you ever thought about just– I've thought about just about everything–that's how you got here. I'm gonna go ahead and admit–there's too much going on in my head. It's a lot. I'm gonna need a nap. GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME. *sheath/ swoard* Is that the sword of skrillex. Yeus. Give it to me. *stabs in thigh* Oooh. Not the balls! fair. Around the world we go Around we go again Here we are Oh no, It's the same song Over and over I'd like you to love to today (I'd love to forget for a moment I haven't) I know before long, we get older and older All wrong, It's the same one, Over and over. Have you seen my butt plugs? NO! GROSS. It's alright. I'll just pick some up on the way. AGGH. Better yet, can you just put in the order on amazon AmAZoN. Yes. (I'm so happy Amazon has anal plugs.) Please stop now. You're being a baby about this–just- You know what. Nevermind. I'll do it myself. Please do that. Siri– Oh my God. Alexa–reorder from Amazon. Come on focus. …hmm…now what was I doing? A B L E T O N *spinning rainbow wheel of doom* …seems like it was something. Come on….FOCUS. Hm. When's the last time you had a marshmello. Flashback: [BONFIRE: Burning The Skrillex] *Also making smores* CUT BACK TO: Like never, I'm vegan. PASQUALE WAKE. UP. Holy shit. It's you again. It's always me. Last time you were like 26. Well, now i'm this age. Wait, how old are you. Wouldn't you like to know. There's a lot of things i'd like to know about you, Pasquale, that's not even near the top of the list. Speaking of “top of the list”-- I do have a lot of things to do today. Oh yeah, what's that? I don't know. A bunch of crap. Speaking of crap– This is a lot of speaking. Happy Birthday. What is this. It's Captain Crunch. Yes it is. What is it doing in my lap. That's your lunch. I–no, it isn't. It is. No, i'm vegan. Well, that's the “happy” part in “happy birthday” No… Yes, actually. This is – It is– Vegan. Damn. Jinx. You owe me a Pererier. Shut up. Or a LaCroix. I'll taka a LaCroix. You're so LA. I guess that makes you Beverly Hills– Or Pacific Palisades. Is that Annexed. It is “LA” What else is in this? No animal product… “Yellow 6” It reads! What happened to yellow 1-5? A whole story. Yes, but not a whole food. “Yellow 6?!” That's the chemical complex you need to find yourself in the right dimension. Exactly. What's wrong with this dimension? What isn't? I'm in it! You're in it! Like I said. What– Just eat it. Ugh– happy trails. *disappears* Ugh. I gave that dude too much money. Fuck, what was I doing again. Deadmau5. Uhm, no i was– Deadmau5. Deadmau5. OOOOOH> YES. I KNOW IT'S YOU, YOU SLIMY MOTHERFUCKER. Stop it. YOU STOP IT. I KNOW IT'S YOU. Who is it? STOP IT. Stop–doing that. I know you're deadmau5. I most certainly am not. I know its you. I have boobs. How did you do this. I did–n't. That's right. Fuck, what happened. Nothin. Now I gotta kill my stupid brother. You have a brother?! SKRILLEX. GET IN HERE. Fuck, run. I gotta go. Go where. Uhm. Somewhere else. DILLON, THIS ISN'T FUNNY ANYMORE. IT WAS NEVER FUNNY. (It was funny to me.) God does have a sense of humor. AHAH–AHAHA–HAHAHA. As it turns out, not the absolute best sense of humor. Oh—he's okay! He's okay! No, he's dead. He's definitely dead. But a sense of humor, nonetheless. Fuck man. What did you do to Dillon Francis. Nothing. I just got him drunk On what?! Cyanide? Okay, I don't even know what that is. He's a corpse. –but a pretty one. C'mon. Be serious. I can't. Why not. It's hilarious, kinda. This isn't funny. No, it's hilarious. He earned it. He “earned” it? Well, yes– He is dead. I mean, it's a long story; but he brought it upon himself, honestly. “Honestly” Please. PLease. Please. No, I said. PLEASE. I SAID NO. What's this story. That's ten. I win. Fuck. DILLOn WAkE UP. *smacks* ahah. I think it's working I think he's waking up. He's not waking up. He must be. He's laughing. He's not laughing He said “haha' *smacks* haha . See. *smacks* Mm. This shit smacks HONEY SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKKKSSSS. Oh shit, is this the 90s. HONEY SMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCKKKKSSS. *slams* GIMMIE MY HONEY SMACKS. That's it. There's no more. AW, COME ON. Sorry, that's all there is. WHAT. But yu can have captain crunch. I DON'T WANT CAPTAIN CRUNCH. I WANT HONEY SMACKS. I'm sorry, there are no more Honey Smacks. You can have Captain Crunch, or Shredded Wheat. GRAMPA Shredded Wheat is MY favorite. Ugh. Mm. Honey Smacks. I HATE YOU. Be nice to your brother. Lol. Everything about Dillon's eyes makes him devastating. Who plays tiny Dillon? I don't know. There are like nine in the script. It shouldn't be hard to cast. We'll go to utah. Fucking. I hate Utah. WELCOME TO UTAH. Nice. Alright, well, what other grounds are there to cover, here? DILLOn FRANCIS I am not doing this project. Of course you are–it's in your contract. What contract. The one you signed. Which–no–I didn't. But you did. SUNNI BLU I got you a drink. DILLON FRANCIS That looks fruity. SUNNI BLU Try it. DILLON FRANCIS *sips* DILLON FRANCIS CONT'D What's in this. Just– drink it. SUNNI BLU Don't look at me like that. DILLOn FRANCIS Like what. SUNNI BLU Do you need a mirror? DILLON FRANCIS I– SUNNI BLU Look down. DILLON FRANCIS *does* SUNNI BLU *flicking nose* Made you look. haha . DILLOn FRANCIS Wow. [takes drink] SUNNI BLUThat's the spirit. But literally there's a mirror between your feet, if you need one. [there literally is] SUNNI BLU CONT'D The floor is made of mirrors DILLOn FRANCIS *suddenly inebriated* Oh wow. SUNNI BLU The whole club turns into a disco ball. DILLON FRANCIS *suddenly very inebriated* That's–convenient. SUNNI BLU It is. SHIA DON'T LET YOUR DREAMS BE DREAMS. If my dreams were not just dreams, everyone in here would have a lawsuit against me. A lot of us do. Carry on, then. SKRILLEX BLAIGH. Oh shit, its you again. I swear to God, I thought I killed this nigga. Are you sure it was him? SKRILLEX !!!! No. Alright, i've almost got it. Almost got what. This whole– thing. Oh. –and–it's gone. Really, that quick. I don't think you understand what's happening. You're right, i don't understand what's happening at all. Oh shit. I'm deadmau5. Nice. Fuck it, lets do some trolling. Alright alright. BUT FIRST, COFFEE. Fuck dude, I don't think I should have anymore coffee. Too late. deadmau5. ok . Deadmau5. Nice. D–0 DOn'T D o THis, I'M WARNING YOU. …. If you open that portal, there's no going back. *opens portal* Now you've done it. *goes into portal* Fuck. *portal closes neatly* *facepalm* *entire series of cosmos collapse in the great distance–time begins to stretch and bend uncontrollably* Come on, just let me lick the balls. NO. I'll give you a cookie. well … OH my GAWD. What. Come here, you have to see this. What the fuck is that. I don't know. Should i pick it up? No, don't touch it! He picked it up. Oh, gross. What is this. I don't know. I think it's fanfiction. Who wrote it. Idk. somefangirl. Fangurl. FaNGiRls. Well, Hey, at least i'm not a groupie. OH COME ON, JUST LET ME SUCK IT. GET AWAY FROM ME. PLEASE. i'LL GIVE YOU $40. -well. NOW, A COMMERCIAL BREAK. Since when does this show have commercials. It doesn't. I want to talk to Jimmy Fallon. That's–not happening. Why not. JIMMY FALLON BECAUSE I HAVE A CONTRACT WITH NBC. There he is– Nice. JIMMY FALLON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. I AM A FAMILY MAN, OKAY. Is that like Family Guy? By Chance?! SETH MCFARLENE (with super long hair) *crossing fingers* I'm hoping so. JIMMY FALLON Not even close! SETH MCFARLENE *snaps* Dammit. Oh, I get it. It's like–The Cofffee run Which “coffee run” THE coffee run. We'll have to admit, it's probably the most watched coffee run of all time. Of all of them. You know what? Fuck it, fire me. I'm doing this show. What?! JImmy. Why on EARTH would you ever agree to something like this. JIMMY FALLON THE COSMIC AVENGER Because–it's my duty. Yo. You know that song that everybody knows? You know the song because everybody knows this song. It goes: Lovin you– is easy cause youre beautiful. do - do- do - do- do- do- do… Yeah. You know that song. But you probably don't know who sings it. I'll tell you who sings it. That song is by an artist called Minnie Ripperton. That's a mouthful. Yeah, one hell of a name, huh. Well, that's the lady who sings the song. It's Minnie Riperton. Now, let me tell you something else you probably don't know: Something I probably wouldn't know if I wasn't a DJ But i know this, because I'm a DJ AND MAYA RUDOLPH WAUT A MINUTE. What the fuck, Maya Rudoph, are you doing in my bathroom at 5 AM It's 1:15 in the afternoon. I'm a DJ. It's 5 AM. That's making sense. I know it is. What's not making sense. Is why you're in my bathroom drinking a milkshake. It's a strawberry milkshake. So it is. *slurps milkshake* *sitting on toilet* *slurps* What do you want. You want to know what I want? Apparently, a milkshake. It's a strawberry milkshake. OK. OK. OK so what. Finish the script. –What? Fuck dude, how does this song sound good every time? Congratulations, you've gone entirely insane. beep-boop . [DJ] B00p beep. [Music Producer] Beep-beep. 0.c. Do not fall dangerously in love; Do not pass go Do not collect $200 Or any of it For any reason, For any of it For any of them Just keep it pushin; Just keep it private Just hold it all in and Do not let go Do not fall in love Do not pass go Do not unload Do not walk Do not cross here Do not It smells like butter. But you're vegan. I know. Do you think you're having a stroke. God, I fucking hope so. GOD You WHAT. I want to die. GOD I thought i heart you right. You heard me right–a THOUSAND times. I want to die. Take me out of this life. GOD Not until you make dubstep. WHAT. GOD You gotta make a grammy-winning dubstep album. I what. GOD Or at least nominated. No, I don't. GOD Beg your pardon. I'm not begging. GOD What are you getting at, hon? Look; Am I not one with the source? GOD Uhm–you are. Alright, Then: everything is everything. GOD Yes. And everyone is everyone. GOD This is true. So i'm Skrillex. GOD Skrillex is Skrillex So I Am. GOD … And I already won a grammy. GOD … Like a bunch of them, right. GOD Uh. So technically– GOD YOu know what. I can't argue with that logic. This isn't ableton. No. This is Logic. What the fuck. That's not Serato. No, that's Rekordbox. What the fuck is this. These are CDJs. There's no hot cues! What the fuck is a “HOT CUE” This is not food. What the fucking sauce. I'm warning you, Pasquale. Get off my lawn. THIS IS MY HOUSE. Your house it is not. *House music starts blasting* *lasers* sprinklers* dancers* WHAT THE FUCK. It's voice activated, I just– How did you do this?! What. WHAT DID YOu DO. AND WHEN. I don't know! I just took the delorean, like you said. You were supposed to find Dillon Francis. I did! The problem was, when I found the right one, he was dead! What? He's dead? Presumably! What do you mean by that!? It's a long story! WELL, HOW LONG? SUNNI BLU About as long as my dick! WHO IS THAT. I told you it's a long story. Well, let me in! Sorry Pasquale. No Can do. What. Why not. Cause you're on a federal watch list. What. Yeah. Sorry. Wait… You should probably leave before the feds get here. What? Unless you want to stay and party on the lawn but–not recommended. This is bizarre. The police arrive, surrounding Pasquale on the yard–moving in to arrest him. WAIT. SUPACREE turns away from the window; inside, a room full of her aliases sit looking somewhat miserably; SUPACREE!!! [Pasquale is handcuffed and i dragged off of the lawn] SUPACREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!! Careless, Acoustic–deadmau5 SUPACREE pours a bowl of captain crunch, taking one colossal bite and sits down in THE CONTROL ROOM at a large computer console; inhaling from a can of nitrous oxide. I'm the worst DJ ever. SUPACREE places the fames deadmau5 helmet atop her head and begins working at the computer promptly, clicking away; Now is deadmau5 I don't even know what key this song is in. MEOWINGTONS, Alive and well purrs and stretches, then settles atop SUPACREE/deadmau5's lap. This is insane. I don't know what's happening. END CREDITS. V. O. Lovin' You, Minnie Ripperton Carless, deadmau5 idk how i'm gonna mix that. Trust me. Anything can be mixed. Anything. [When it] Turns out, The bottom of your heart Was the tip of the Ice Berg And the whole ship has [s]unk[en], [&] I[t]'s probably ice cold At the bottom of the ocean; I'll tell you where i'm from Why, I'll tell you anything for About one dollar Turns out, I've already got one eye on you; One eye'd sad heart I should probably roll out my art on you [I probably should not] One man bought a kiss, Another, a whole night from her– One man bought a whole farm The other, a Whole Foods Market –and you can't even franchise those Amazon's got a monopoly We were playing for corners of earth, All i got was some kandi, Subscriptions to candidly, Actually, I really liked the tree trial (I think i'll wait a week, sorry) When it turns out The world that you wanted Was actually hours already The dollar you got Was also borrowed And the money they wanted and got Was just actually stolen from someone else They bought all the food up And sold it for profits I promise this avocado Once costs nothing at all But you wanted that car for your daughter She's got a mercedes and don't even drive it My mom, on my honor Of all the garages in Lost Lands, I promise the owner of it was The first to go last, And the last to come home Now he's on his own alter And also the worshiper; How do you go back? Oh, you don't Oh you don't Oh, you don't wanna know that But i was of course, All of your rock bottoms It's bottoms and tops, and We don't let the top fall over, We're counting up crumbs And this muffin costs $24 dollars Pour a whole bottle of coconut water out on the sidewalks For the dead homies Not dead in the general sense But just in the head, the heart, And the soul The homeless are happier at McDonalds Than asking at crossroads and crosswalks For dollars I'd rather spend elsewhere I'll avoid the power struggle at operations for about 18 dollars and 56 sense (Please, keep the pennies) I'm feeling around in my 6th sense that there's Something indecent, or decadent Whichever it is Cause i'm better of with the memory of it Than actually dragging it in. –I'm a cat again. Ouch. Shut up. It HURTS. Of course it hurts, you just had heart surgery without any anistetics. YEah, but to be fair–that was a lot of acid. Yes, but lucily for you– –or, for him– Lucily for us, there's no lethal amount of acid. –Ouch– –Shut up. That we know of. George Washington John Adams Thomas Jefferson James Monroe Nope, can't for the life of me remember the 5th Oh shit, I was wrong Turns out, my memory only can hold three. That's a good number I really wish you'd stop just–showing up like this. I never leave. Then go away. I live here. I know you'd like to think that, but– Okay, I'm going to tell you something but I need you to remain calm. What time is it? I don't care Are we gonna make a movie? Depends; is it gonna make me money. FINE. I don't need anymore information about anything else: only these three. Are you serious? I wish I wasn't. I need you to do this. Look, Timmy–I'm not really into grantng wishes anymore. It always blows back on me. A blowjob. Uh huh. That's why you're bothering me. I–would rather you just pick up the call. Take a message. I like ‘em like this. I like ‘em like that. I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. And I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. Mmm like that. Like that. I like ‘em like this. I like ‘em like that. I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. And I like ‘em like this. –and I like ‘em like that. Mmm like this Like that. Like — _____ The urge to eat had suddenly left me I wanted a burrito, (But I want to eat red meat) I've gotta stop thinking in sequences and parentheses Complex lines, and writing in past tense so presently. I probably should eat (But probably shouldn't…) I'm starting to bleed; As if i'd been fasting Perhaps, though I had been But had so indulgently feasted On calories enough to last me Till after today (or even till next week) PAY ATTENTION. Woah, to WHAT. Holy shit, I knew this dude was a psychopath but. This is real. ARE YOU SEEING THIS. I “see” it. I should stop meditating in public. You see this? I know everything about you. Why? I bought it on the internet. What is it. Metadata. That's…flattering. Yeah. Wake up. Why, where are we going? Atlanta. What's in Atlanta? You see this? Yes. Do you know what it is? Uh, it's a– What is it? It's a doll. It's not a doll. Oh, it's not. Gimmie a dollar. -_- It's a poppit. “Dr pimple popper” Ew that's fucking gross. I hate this. Let me see. Does s/he have backne? Yes/No. Great, i'll take it. Fuckit. Okay, I got to “whatever”. You went too far. What? I thought I was supposed to go past “fuckit” Yeah, you go past fuckit, I did that! But if you get to “whatever”, you've gone too far. You've gotta go back. Back to WHAT. There was almost no space between “fuckit” and “whatever” Oh trust me. There is. So? This is how he's been controlling you. And? And!? Has it ever occurred to you that I want to be controlled? What! That it just takes the right person to get that kind of permission– permission to what Permission to ride. … Maybe I gave him the reigns. What horse “gives” its rider the reigns. Who said anything about a horse?! Another Horse Mix. Nice. fuck . FYCK. I told you. You know what…Maybe that's my poppit. What. Maybe. I'm so confused. Oh, good–the reversal spell worked. You did a reversal spell on me? Only after I found out what spell you put on ME–FIRST. Yeah, except I wasn't the first one to use that spell on you. EXACTLY. COPY-CAT. Moo. Aww. I'm a cat. … *face* I mean “meow” That's right. Cat. …moo. *face* Lookie here boys: What is it? –I'm leaving. Oh, you're gonna wanna hear this. What. I found the first “whites only” water fountain since 1962. Okay, what do you want? A deal. Oh, I'll give you a deal. Cash up front. [He presents a one dollar bill] Is this enough. [beat] Where are you going with this? Nowhere, fast. YO. What now, dude. SHE'S ONTO US. I doubt that. Look at this. I highly doubt– *gaaassp* Shenanigans! You know what I like about you, Ariana? Everything. Hah. Hm. You know how to keep a secret. I don't know what you're talking about. Exactly. *rolls eyes, flips hair.* Well, here's another one for you. –Another what? This is how my darkness becomes your darkness. I already have enough on my own. I know. You don't know. Only God knows. MOM! Don't ask me again. This is heavy, Doc. What is it? The soup! It's too heavy. Too much cream? Way too much! I have a meeting! Meeting with who? The Hollywood People. When? Soon–what time is it? I don't know. Dammit! Why don't you have any clocks in your house? I only just recently remembered what a clock was. Oh! Here. [God produces a small pocket watch and presents it to him; it's nearly noon on EARTH; But the two are sharing a meal of course in the famed kitchen of the Creator in the TImeless VOID.] Ah, Jesus Christ! He's not here… I'm gonna be late. Now, now; You know I wouldn't let that happen– [a smug look| Hugs and Kisses. [As they embrace, he disappears into a mist of light and stardust, fading away from the void and into the exterior world; he realizes God has slipped him the watch; he flips it open to reveal the time: it is now 11:44] Amazing. V.O. Now you won't wait so long to visit. [He places the wach in his pocket and walks into the studio] MICHAEL J. FOX has been asked to reprise his role as MARTY MCFLY many times before; But never for a project like this. ____ Meanwhile, What am I going to do with you? [The Festival Project.™] YOU'RE DEAD TO ME! –I'm dead to everyone! Don't do this. You wanted to come to the other side. No, I didn't. We'll you're here anyway; Might as well stay awhile. With eyes like burning fire And saddles for the riders The horse begins to gallop (or the horses, rather) On the mark to beating drums To move them forward faster What the fuck is this. idk. Kx5. *-* !_! Here u go Wat is this. it's a dragon. Oh, thats nice. Ya. Whats it do. Idk. dragon things. ok. Don't put it in ur bathroom. Why. idrk. Hm. † Hey. Ugh–No, Kaskade, go away. It's me, Ryan! No, Get out! I'm No† Ka–k (gags) –skade! Gross! It's just Ryan! I promise! NO. GET OUT. Lmfao. Right. This show is fantastic. Who was that. Fucking–Kaskade again! Are you sure. Ugh. Looks like Ryan. Kaskade is Kaskade. {shrugs] Dudes a creep. “Kaskade Ruins Lives” Is this the same episode as before? Eventually, yes. Wasn't I doing something Are you goona let this go? Um. Well I'm fucked. Why, what happened. Obsidian. That should do Unsobsidian. Okay, i'm fucked, Well, what's this? An Oreo Cookie. I mean, sitting next to it. Oh, its a portal gun. Raves are not just raves– A party is not simply a “party” –These big festivals –they're diversions. –DIstractions. Distractions from what. If you were supposed to know, –you'd know. it wouldn't be so important that you go. Why is it? These ancient rituals… It's occult magic. They've got it down to a science. The government funds this. The government funds everything. WoooooooW. It's not really a secret, if you can google it. ‘-complications.' I'm lost somewhere, gone HIppopatamus feeling quite off in the galaxies, galavanting Gazing at Daisies Aces and spades Gone from Heaven to Hades for days On the A– Adjacent Recently dismantling adjectives, Lampshades and matching curtains God it hurts, every day that I think about you; But how can i be about you when You don't even see me, do you Signature consignments, Wrong environments and irony is, I wasn't invited– –but invented it WHY IS IT ALWAYS CHRISTMAS?! BEcause, you're in a movie. WHAT. You're stuck in a Hollywood movie. The Master Sorcerer Of the Grand Illusion You just want it so bad You don't know what you're in for Inquenchable Thirst for knowledge Insatiable Sexual Appetite Great, now I have to explain myself. You don't have to. What's this space for? Oh, that's the red room. [The Red Room] Well, obviously, but– But what? What's it for? I don't think anybody should read this. HEY. Participation Only– Oh! No peeking! You ever feel like you're doing too much? Yeah, but not for money. Look, we have them surrounded. Our best course of action is to– deadmau5 . What? No– DEADMAU5. Well, are you sure it was a mouse and not a rat? It was a mouse. I know the difference. Do you, though? Look, I've lived in Mexico and New York City. So. In Queens. Oh. That's mathematically impossible. I mean it's not–impossible. No, it's not just impossible. It's mathematically impossible. Has it ever occurred to you that the DJ World in entirety exists outside of the realm of math and science? What is this. Just–enjoy the rave. No. What is this. Look at the firewoooorkkks! Woo EDC… NO. What is this right here. BEFORE: Hey, you still got that balloon? Yeah. Lemme see it. Dude, what are you doing? …I'mma go catch me a DJ. THIS IS NUTS. I can't feel my face. What do you call this? Collateral Damage. Look, I'm going to have to take frequent trips to the bathroom. ok . And–uhh– and. Uhh– Why did you call me over here. Cause i can. Look. this is not magic. This is not science. This is not “voodoo” Voodoo is magic. It's just music. W H E R E D I D H E G O O O O O I don't know. Fuck dude, I fucked up. Once again– Of course you did. What did you do this time? I might have evaporated someone with my fat fucking bass. Nice. Way to go. Yeah. Wait. … Did you just say. HE JUST He deserted me. SO WAIT, YOU'RE JUST GONNA LEAVE ME HERE? ALRIGHT, WHO THREW A ROCKSTAR IN MY TENT? JEFF Alright, lets go. WHO DID THIS. So what's this place. Lets not let this conversation resurface. This is a 21 Plus Event. What about VIP VIP is 25 Plus. What about that place. Sorry kids. [NO ENTRY] We gotta get in there. So then they wanted an Encore. Did you give them an encore? NO, i was already at my hotel room. Then how did you know that they wanted an encore? WHICH IS IT, THE WYNN, OR THE ENCORE. FUCK, I DON'T REMEMBER. Please, who stays at the Encore for EDC? Have you literally never been out with rich people? No, I literally just got rich. Oh, nice. So, wait, like– Here we go. Dillon Francis has just always been rich? Uh-huh. And Skrillex has always been rich? Yes. Definitely. And deadmau5. deadmau5 is Canadian. OH MY GOD. W E L C O M E I'm going to need your absolute discretion about this. Alright. Sign this waiver. …this is a…pretty heavy packet. I'll wait. I've never signed an NDA like that in my life. Lil' biiiiiiiiiiiiiitzzzz Can we just admit it's weird that we live in an era where “NDA” is household jargon. And like, everyone knows what it means. Everyone knows what an NDA is. I appreciate the sentiments Isn't it weird how it sets in automatically? Autopilot, go. Aww, i don't want to be Autopilot. You're on autopilot. I don't really have to think about it anymore, I'll have to sleep on it Wear a white t-shift, Hear the applause of the audience, Eat it You wanna know what I think? You want to know what I'm drinking? You know what I need? An Icee, (cause I see you typing) An awful Omnipotence A God of Mirages No more carbohydrates, I gotta get all thin; Forgot to acknowledge Whether or not i'm turning this off soon I are. I…”are” I are. Infinite Reality. OH. I. R. IR! IR! IRV I ARE. Suddenly, I remember the taste of talcum powder As If I were Moving backwards In time, Like, Why, God on earth would My mom let me try that, But if i'm honest, Fuck man, I hate deadmau5– There's just too much in here. Beep boop. I love deadmau5. It's so simple. What is this, MATH?! THIS IS AERODYNAMICS. WHAT THE FUCK ARE AERO DYNAMICS DId you mean what you said about that? I meant everything I said. Goddammit, fuck this, I was in the middle of a really complex poem In realtime, listening to deadmau5 Having a partially out of body spiritual experience, Entirely fucking sober FACEPALM BLŪ 8facepalming dramatically in frustration* NOBODY IS EVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO EXPLAIN ANY OF THIS. beepboop. YO. Oh, I forgot my open form poetry, or my mom How my mom once allowed me to gnaw on talcum powder But who can blame her That was a hard one It was a past life And now ive Got Another One HOly shit what version of the cube is this. 1D. What. You'll get it. Wait. Have you ever stopped for a minute to think– I can't stop for a minute, especially just to “think” [Literally stops for a minute to think.] No fucking way, uh-uh. Come on, man. No. I ain't time travelin' wit deadmau5. Come on– NO. –that someone else has already figured all of this out and that's how any of it is possible in the first place. Alright, i'm gonna need some mind-altering drugs for this. What are you doing. Voluntary Ego Death. I– Wait. Why would you. Get out of my brain. I am your brain. Take care, now. Holy shit, it seems like she's getting more evil. That's because she's definitely more evil ALRIGHT, I'M TIRED OF THIS: WHERE IN THE FUCK IS SKRILLEX. MEANWHILE INT. IN THE FUCK. DAY. *rings doorbell* AT YOUR MOM'S HOUSE. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME. I'm not joking, that's…literally the answer to your question. Oh. Fuck. What dude. We gotta go back. I left the keys in the pocket of the guy I shapeshifted into. Are you serious? It's fine, he can't have gone too far, dude. What do you mean he “left the dimension” He entered a portal. He– wait, excuse me. A portal. A “portal”, dude? Yeah; a portal. What do you mean “a portal” A portal, like— you know, like a portal gun, but not a portal gun, just a portal. Uh huh. Excuse us for a second. What the fuck is this dude talking about? I don't know, man. Humans don't use portals! I know man. What the fuck! Well, wait—how do we know that guy is human. He looks human. Yeah dude but, we look human. Duh! Cause we shifted! Yeah, but, how do we know he's not a shifter. Because, dude, I know a shifter when I see one. Yeah, but—you know, what if he's really good. I highly doubt that. Why? Cause I'm the best. No, I am. Exactly, so we'd know if it was another shifter–cause we're the best shifters! Well, let's at least try to see if he knows anything else about those guys. They were together right? I hope not. No, not like that—like Okay, okay, whatever, let's just… Wait, where'd he go? Excuse me. What up. There was just another guy over here just now— He was like—you know—normal looking guy Tie die* shirt Yeah. Did you see him. Yeah, I saw him. Alright, cool, where'd he go? He left. What?! That was fast! Yeah, well…it happens. Are you sure? Yes. *actually is shifter* [as they walk away, the shifter shifts, and then vanishes into a random portal.] Awww, dammit, Now we're never gonna find this guy. Never say never. Whatever, we're dead. We're always dead. Yeah, but like in modern human slang terms Oh, yeah, that. Anyways, I gotta relieve this human's bladder. I fucking hate this species for this. It is useless. *enters portal potty* [ Wait, whatever actually did happen to Dillon Francis? That's great, I was just getting to that. 19 Pages. Nice. …no, 12. What. [11:12] Okay, I'm gonna kill him. Oh, I banished him. With my fists. Nice. Tits. Nice tits. Thx. Hey man. Hey what. Remember that smudge on the lens. Yeah. It just got bigger. … did you try vinegar instead of Windex. Yes. –IT'S NOT A SMUDGE. Did you try Windex with Vinegar. –IT'S NOT A– Shut up. I'm. So. Hungry. Look, do you want this, or not? Do you feel like any of this is a coincidence? Just quit, it. Dillon Francis. WHERE IS IT? I don't know. Lets kick this up a notch. ILLUMINATI What do you want? … I want the full package. ILLUMINATI Okay, I'm gonna need specifics. How do you even get a job as a courier for the illuminati? [INDEED.COM | ILLUMINATI - COURIER- URGENTLY HIRING] Hm. It was a pretty specific list. I don't even get the point of a barbeque if everyone is vegan Well, The Mayor eats fish. Oh please, where is THAT guy the Mayor of? I don't know. We meet in the Matrix. This is for you. Oh. Do you like it? I– It's not a brothel! It's Member's Only! YOu BUY a Membership. Yeah. And WOMEN. HEy, MAN, YOU CAN BUY DUDES, TOO. SHHH. Oh no. What. What did you do? I gave her my credit card. The Heavy One? Yes, and– “AND” –access to the black market. Cool, I got it. Oh, another auction. Of course another auction. What'd you buy this time? A lifesize deadmau5 bobblehead. What are you gonna do with that? Wouldn't you like to know. Ok, gross. LIL BIIIIIIIITXXXX I love a good deamau5 show. He really does have the best fans, It's a comfortable, safe space. Very inviting. Everyone is happy. What the fuck, dude, this place is a sausage fest. Yeah, that's deadmau5 for ya. Hey, I'm looking for this shithead. Oh, that dude? Yeah, have you seen him? Fuck, I wish this never happened. LIL BIIIIITz If you don't know who deadmau6* is– GET OUT. Jk. but seriously this is easily the most devastating person i've ever seen. Maybe just to me, but. Are you sure that's the right guy? Yeah, that's gotta be him. Is he wearing glasses? Ugh. Oh wait. Damn. ‘Fuck, it is my sapiosexuality, I think' Even if it was perhaps an error, as I might have more than needed a new pair of glasses myself, just the thought of Joel in a pair of specables was suddenly and immediately the equivalent of Dillon Francis sitting down at a piano, or Sonny doing just about literally anything–and I realized, finally, that the most indecent things about myself were quite possibly only happening inside my own mind– Okay, my body does really weird things to this dude's music. Are you sure this is real? No. I love this. Just shut up and do your job. What a nightmare. PLease HElP ME. Hm. That can't be right. What. This translates to H E L P M E Oh, shit, I gotta go. Shouldn't you be working right now? I'm always working. Shouldn't you be working right now? I'm at work. Well, that was nice and all, but–I gotta get out of here. Where are you going? To shoot myself. Wow, that's one hell of a smile. Just–take it. I'm sorry, i can't accept this. What is even happening in this series? Like, a lot WOULD YOU KIDS SETTLE DOWN. *not settling down* *lil biiiiiiiitz* You know what I wonder? I wonder this I'm sober. I'm just sober sally over here. I didn't get sober. I just am. Cause i'd rather face the pain of this harsh reality with a bite than to dull it out and then wake up in the morning Or–just–whenever– To wake up whenever and be like “OH NO, THIS IS WHAT IT'S REALLY LIKE” And the shock of it is so horrible that I just have to repeat that cycle again. ‘OH NOOOOOO” *gets faded* “It's all goooooood” No, it isn't. But i choose to stay like that cause it's like a It's not even a happy medium, It's more like a median-medium But you know what? It makes happier moments more happy And shitter moments less shitty Because i don't have this like drastic spacial Augmented reality or like smoke screen of emotional apathy. I get to feel things way more intensely. I don't have to wonder, ever “oh , did that just happen, cause I was messed up” Or like “would it have happened this way if I was sober” At all. I'm just level– No false sense of Pretty much anything. But i do wonder, though– Like, for people who weren't always sober, and then GOT sober– like , what's the breaking point What's the tip? I always have to sit back and wonder “What did you DO?” Cause you know it had to be something if suddenly “I don't drink anymore” I always wonder, and it's like– no disrespect or anything thing but… I really wanna hear that story. lol . I know you don't wanna tell it (if you can) But wanna hear it. Cause from my point of view. IT's probably hilarious. I know. I'm a dick. Holy shit. What is that. Looks like pasquale went all out with the fireworks this year. …is that a penis? WELCOME HOME It's a giant dick- in-the-sky! GOD IS REAL! JESUS Look, so i've been having second thoughts about this whole thing. What the fuck man. You gotta stop doing shit like this. JESUS I literally can't. I know, but. Okay, look. I'm not writing any of that. You've gotta tell him. NO, RYAN. WELL, WHY NOT. BECAUSE, RYAN. WHY. DEADMAU5 ISN'T REAL. Damn, am I in here. Nice. Of course I am. Well, how'd that happen. This is like a sea of cellphones. Perfect. It was a red car; I wasn't all there, And if you want her, You can have her Fuck. What. I forgot the rest of the verse. It's ok. We gotta move on. No, I gotta go back. For what. For my fans. Aw. What's this. IT's a ceramic mug. Wow, that's nice. I made it Wait. You made that?! Yeah. With your hands?! Yeah. Why would you do that? For you. What. I made it for you? Like, you thought of me first, then you made it? Yeah. WHY? Cause i love you! WOW. Fans are awesome OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. *Sometimes. *vomits* … *dies* … *godlessness* [Devastating DJ Moments] I don't get it dawg, all this shit is in your music particles?! “Music particles” UGH. what . That's it. Don't be smart around me. Uh. I'm not smart? No, that won't work; sarcasm is a sign of deeper intelligence. “Sorry” Stop saying that. This is America. S– Don't say it again. Apology not accepted. Don't look at me like that. Like what. With your face. *face* Quick: Say something stupid and random. …I like anime. Oh good, that worked. Thanks. Where are you going? Idk somewhere else. Really, that's it? Yeah. That's all you have to say/ That's literally it. Are you seeing this. Yes. So what's the problem. Oh no, she's stuck in a loop. Throw the whole fan away. [DELETE] Did it work. Did what work. Oh, good. Cool. Wait. See ya later. Did what work? I wish i could just forget about this. Everything? Yeah. Look, this is between me and God–okay? GOD Don't drag me into this. You dragged ME into this! GOD Right. So i could get OUT; So don't drag me back in. Fuck, I remember this. I must have done something important here. Like what. Look, I love you. Great, now what do we do? Bury the body, I guess. *shrugs* Wait, what happened? Somebody dies. OKay, me first. Other Three: Who wants to go next. *still in shock* Fuck man, told you this was a long ass story. *Crying* I'm ruined. What! You went broke? No, i'm still a filthy rich millionaire. I thought you were a billionaire. I am I just *snifs* sometimes I forget that happened. “Sometimes I forget I'm a billionaire” I got to admit, man, I did it to myself. I'm not mad, or anything, but now there's just–certain things I can't do Oh, like what. Not that song. What, why not? You said “anything but Skrillex” this is not Skrillex, this is deadmau5. What's the difference? Okay, that's like saying “What's the difference between deadmau5' and my music?” No, it isn't. How is that not different? That's like comparing the music of Bach and Beethoven to the music of a tattooed hedgehog. You think I look like a hedgehog. No, it's just when I see you and a hedgehog I have all the same thoughts, turn this off. NO, i like this song. Seriously, Dillon Francis, turn it off. I'm gonna turn it up instead. I do not highly recommend doing that. Or at all. This ship has amazing subs. Should I bass boost this song. NO, PROBABLY NOT. Oh, why not? Dillon Francis, I'm warning you, stop. OH HOW COME BECAUSE WHY? BECAUSE I LOOK LIKE A HEDEHOG NO, BECAUSE I ALWAYS FALL ASLEEP AT THIS *DROP* [INSTANTLY FALLS ASLEEP AT THE WHEEL–ACTIVATES HYPERSPACE– PLUMMETS SHIP INTO BLACK – HOLE. ohhhhh . What a hoe. Nice, that's a whole episode. Well, here's a bonus scene or whatever. Shazam, what is this. SHAZAM …i don't know. What do you mean you don't know. SHAZAM *panicing* IDONNO WHAT DO YOU MEAN– SHAZAM IDON. NO. OOOOOOOOOOOO Is this deadmau5. I'm not sure. Sounds like deadmau5. It sure does. This is pretty Ooh. it sparkles. yeah , it's deadmau5. How does she KNOW. I need a deadmau5 machine like right now. I know where to find that. Fuck dude, everything's gonna be half-ass until I push out this album. You can't rush it. Trust the process. I can't focus. Oh shit, wasn't this in the last episode? Yeah. I'm still writing backwards. God, what is that, like a pipe organ. WHAT SYNTH IS THIS. Doesn't matter, I just need one. That's it. I know what I'm going to spend my Jimmy Fallons On. And What's that? V.O. OOh. Are we Montaging–to deadmau5? [MONTAGE: deadmau5] Nice. I love a good montage. I love deadmau45* AHH OH NO. I love deadmau5. I keep making typos and I keep forgetting to delete that parallel where. fuckit. That's the synth I've always wanted. It's on sale for $999 At Sam Ash But…you only have Five JImmy Fallons. There are only five special edition in this Volume The Jimmy Fallon 555's I don't know how many volumes there are, but this is the Volume I started keeping track. Fuck, man. I miss Equinox. It's just Eucalyptus. They also have an outdoor running track where you get the best ever view of midtown manhattan. How do you know it's the best ever view of Midtown manhattan. Because it's on a running track. STOP WHISTLING IN MY WHOOP=WHOOPS. The JImmy Fallon 555s are marked with the standard Jimmy Fallon in black ink With a simple side marker of the number 555 in red And also in red, a telephone number on the back. But–that synthesizer is One Thousand Jimmy Fallons. Yeah. So I only need Nine Hundred Ninety Five More. And of course, the Eye of Providence is highlighted. Also Standard. V.O. I always highlight that. Cause, you know… “Illuminati” These are fake. No they're not! They're counterfeit, sorry. No they're not! They're authentic! Why the fuck does this matter so much? You know. What is it with this dude. If it was a snake, it would've bit ya. It was a snake. And it did bite me. He's so increasingly beautiful to me, And I'm still in love with his friend, or misrepresented masterpiece, Progression of a monster, or procession of a superstar, but Something in the story sparks the thought of All we are is consciousness, of course Awkward in body, but of constellations Cosmos, It's not just a corpse; It's all got love in it, Absurd, and sipping carbonated syrup, but I'm just sitting in my stirrups, Here comes galloping a horse, Of course, it hurts to turn it off For just a moment And remember That i'm just a homeless, Stuck and sitting up at night Writing recourse, hugging learning curves in ableton, Curving curses, been reminded that I'm worthless In a thousand words or less, Or just another form of torture, Nothing said, but all that's done Another day another dollar, But it's not It's Jimmy Fallon. I thought this was enter the multiverse. Are you ready to go. No. A hand on my shoulder So paifully socially awkward, I grow stretchmarks, don't know what to call them But scars, But the uglier ones, I've thought Are invisible, Somewhat– To the naked eye Or just anyone Not tiger stripes But one, an eye of horus Carved above my right And inside my lip, (The bottom one) A raised scar in the shape of a sythe I probably died by the hands of a man named Starr So it's hard to shrug it off, And 555 is just a number But it's not It's another scar, It's a punishment For loving him. What's on the back. It's…a number. What number? A telephone number. What. Like a 1-800 Number Call it. I love deadmau5. Something about a big, giant smiling robotic mouse that lights up and sparkles. Why? I don't know. I'm like 5. I see deadmau5 i'm like “WHEEEEEEE” My hands go up in the air “AHHHHHH! YAYYYYY” I'm so stupid. It's so stupid. But you know what? It makes me feel good. I'm not gonna lie. I love it. And by the time I even figured out what deadmau5 was I was so late to the party that I had to make up for lost time. I listened to deadmau5 doing EvErYThING. Everything you could possibly imagine. Well–Except one. Wait, how long have you been cellibate? Forever, probably. Fuck, what happened in here? I don't know. Everything's broken. My head My heart. Everything. Get up, Dillon Francis. Fuck, what happened. You sent us through a black hole. And we crashed on a random ass planet. Fuck, that sucks. YOu suck, Dillon Francis. Ugh. Now get up. Everything's fucked up. SUPERSTAR DJ I'm a paradox. I've got a box of skeletons in my closet i'm not ready to part with. I had a heart attack; I had a heart once, But lately it goes in my pocket; Or my right hand, When I wake up From a dream land, From a long hug From a nice man In a t-shirt KASKADE This is God's PLAN. RYAN, GET FUCKED. 800-799-7233 Did you call the number. Yeah. What is it. [National Domestic Violence Hotline] Woah. That was a long bonus scene. Well, Now here's a PSA. AND A PSA? YES. A PSA. You know what the fucked up thing about all this is, The Legend of Supacree is a true story. All of it. ALL OF IT?! ALL OF IT!? YES. Even the part about– YES. Especially that part. Woah. Damn. I think i'm gonna be sick. Shut up, Dillon Francis. No, but seriously– This is the story of how I got my heart broken so bad. YOU RUINED IT. So, so bad– I HATE YOU. That i started singing about it. NSA, totally *not spying* …are you hearing this. Yes. ILLUMINATI Check this out. Another one down. And how when you start making music– What is this. it's hoe math. And that music actually comes from a really real place. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING. really real shit starts happening. You–killed yourself. well , to be fair–I lost everything first. Congratulations. Thx. Here's a skrillex. WHT. Kbye. Really, really, really. What, the fuck Dillon Francis, crawled inside of you to live and made it'self at home? Idon'tknow. What is in this sauce? Just–kill him. What, i can't just. Just kill him, while nobody is watching. Please don't kill me. Shut up, man. I'm having a thought process. Okay, that's it. FUCK DILLON FRANCIS. That's the spirit. THAT IS THE SPIRIT. IT'S THE HOLY SPIRIT. Who the fuck is this. It's–Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ? Jesus Christ?! JESUS CHRIST i'M BACK, MOTHERFUCKER. Wait, are you claiming that the second coming of the messiah is upon us?! YES. Well,Technically, it's the third. And it's all because of Dillon Francis?! I Please stop this HATE Help YOU. Fuck, dude. I know, huh. What did he DO. The third?! How did we miss that?! Uh, you didn't. [HITLER, being HITLER] (he was mad) Okay, that's it. You can't write any of this. Uh, I can. I just did. Technically, I'm dead: this is just a voiceover It's an 80's style PSA You can't say Hitler was the messiah. That's offensive. Everything is offensive. FUCK YOU DILLON. I'msosorry NOTYETYOU'RENOT. Wait, whatever happened to Skrillex. SKRILLEX is waiting outside of the alleged home of SUPACREE's “distant relatives” Lol is he for real at her mom's house. well , to be fair, he's like–looked everywhere else. Ur right. That was a lot of dimensions. So. like. Fuck, i didn't even have that much coffee. It just goes on forever. [DILLON FRANCIS STILL HAS HOTSAUCE IN HIS PUDGY LITTLE EYES] Good. Cause if I see the pupils, i'm wasting him. You think you can do better than this. Better than this? Yes. Yes. Then do it. Alright, is the PSA over? No, not yet. I gotta say one more thing. What is it? Would you ever have done it, Or would you ever be honest If you had, Handed her a lesson, Or a stretch of the past From the present moment, My heart, and my mind And my lover I present you this honor From now on to nowhere I no longer… Want to be near you Or to know you Or to hear you Or to fear you No longer… Want to feel you Or to touch you Or to have you Or to hold you Or to love you No longer, I no longer want you Devastating, A song stuck in my head for a whole world I wonder how long it would take to go back there A room full of actors, A manager, Never a backpack to wear Just a handful of hats, One director, Eventually producer Just now a showrunner Look at how long that took. I had to wonder what auroras in the north thought of someone like Sonny. They showed me. Now I can love you no longer So much for getting acquainted Funny what age equates to in ageless An infinite wisdom, I dismissed him, Nor, would I believe that he ever would hit her, but Some might belong in such a category Though i carry the marks and the scars Of what my once- husband did to me –but no longer. I haven't a heart in the world left But a broken one, made of amethyst. Fuck off, Dillon Francis. A calculated attack on my psyche. I like it a lot, But i'm fonder of sodom. WHAT. Are you saying you woul actually participate in an orgy! Oh GOD no! Oh, Good, cause– But i'd host one. WHAT. The hedonists are a fun bunch. Oh my God. Though, Nowadays, of course, I haven't the slightest idea what to call them. I saw the future. Well, obviously, if you've headlined EDC you've seen the future. I remember all of it. That must be awful. Why don't you remember it? Because i don't want to. Not at all. I did once. Then what happened? I hated it so much, i forgot. You forgot on purpose. I had to. Love, or Music. …Music. Love, or Fame. Fame. Okay, ouch. Love, or Music? …Love. Okay. Love, or Fame. Love. Okay. Love, or music? … Isn't that the same thing? Hm. Love, or Fame? ….Why do you keep asking me the same question. I beg your pardon? Why beg? I mean– What do you mean? What do you mean? Well, first you asked me, If would rather have Love or Music. Love. Music. Yes. In my mind, those are synonyms. Neither can really exist without the other. Okay, and Fame. Love and Fame are also synonyms– How so? Ugh, I just made this difficult on myself. It was always difficult. It really wasn't. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U. WHY IS IT ALWAYS CHRISTMAS?! BEcause, you're in a movie. WHAT. You're stuck in a Hollywood movie. The Master Sorcerer Of the Grand Illusion You just want it so bad You don't know what you're in for Inquenchable Thirst for knowledge Insatiable Sexual Appetite Yo My horizontal monster wants ya Could revert to vert, but lets keep Our options open Covert, __ My heart is broken No window open Who left the draft in –motherfucker My heart is broken I need a lover I need a lover Some one to hug me I need a hug, but And– I'm not fit to touch The hem of your garment The tip of your dick or fit enough to be your girlfriend I guess i'll just have to live with that When I have an itch, I scratch it myself I made the assumption you can't, And moved passed it But something's been calling me out, from the past Something's been calling me back to the magic I can't get around that Do you hate me? I can see that I'll just make my way back to the beginning Though I'm envious And i pity her, The both of you really There's nothing left between us except Insanity//Infinity Kendrick Style Flow Don't key my car: You'll be callin collect! I got rearview mirrors in the back of my head Don't get up right now, son– Go back to bed I got kids all over, be pulling my leg! Luke, I am your Father! Oh My Oh My God On top of the Watchlist You make money off dope; I made it on craigslist Still be sniffin that coke But now i'm on A list I'm the greatest Ey Miss! I missed too many calls (Airplane Mode) I just started my day (Whole Workload) I might need a buffet (Like Whole Foods) Sashe, Pas De Bourre (That's a code word) No dance floor? Now you're done for My forte Four-to-the-floor Hardcore I drop bass on the encore Front row won't go But i'm already out the front door You don't know I just hopped inside the helicopter, or chopper, chopped broccoli in my cup That's supper; Sleep/ Wake then Surf's up In the morning When i got there (Coastal show, Shower, Then another club Encore Front row lined up I'm already at the front door They want more I'm too sore, for sure Off subject, I dropped in Harder than Paulie On my surfboard (Another code word) This is my world: Another club, Then I'm off for a monday Or somethin' Write another song At the buffet –Tales of a Superstar DJ Amen. Fuck! I didn't even get to watch desperate housewives! Don't fuck with her! She's a trained assassin! GET ON THE GROUND. NO! GET ON THE GROUND– OR I WILL SHOOT YOU! SO? IF I SHOOT YOU, YOU WILL DIE. OK? “OK”? YOU WILL DIE. YEAH, AND? Kind of frustrating hunting down somebody who already has a deathwish. What do you do with someone who has no fear of death. Give them life. I'm telling you, we probably shouldn't be doing this. *shrugs* You split yourselves into two entirely separate individuals at once, just so you could see whose dick is longer? Technically, three entirely separate individuals. THIS ISN'T FAIR. Do you ever think? Sometimes, but it's usually pretty gross. I mean about the implications of these things! You are the implications of these things! I split my soul ONE time into 8 BILLION or so individuals, before this even had happened. WOAH, WHAT HAPPENED. I'm giving you planetary confinement. What. You–can stay here. On this planet. No. It's racist–and primitive. No– And you're black. Please– I'm leaving. –don't– –and i'm taking your portal gun with me. YOU PUT A PORTAL ON MY FACE?! Genius. Incredible. I didn't think it would be a big deal. He has two! Okay, time for work. But i didn't even sl– Coffee. Ouh. … … — I don't think we should be doing this TIA We probably shouldn't. TAMERA We very much shouldn't. What are you guys doing. Nothing. SHh. Summoning the devil. It's not the devil. It might be. Hush. Is that a pentagram. Technically it's a star, with a circle around it. That's a pentagram. It's not a pentagram! Is that a ouiji board? NO. Yes. Let me see. Ugh! I wanna help. MEANWHILE. MORGAN FREEMAN enters an empty train car: Oh God, This. Yes it is! What!? Are you dead! Entirely empty, that is–besides SUPACREE. No, you are! Great, so you're dead! I'm–not dead. Is Bob Saget with you? I'm not DEAD. What about Fraiser? What? Kelsey Grammer! God rest his soul. SEE! I'm not dead– [beat, an eerie shadowy silence in the dimly lit traincar] I'm a Legend. What. I wrote that/ You wrote that. What. Ugh. Look. Morgan Freeman. [Morgan Freeman] I–am–like a paranoid schizophrenic, or something– So, who isn't?! It might be catatonic, I don't know–I got this whole dead-hand–thing–going on. What is that? I don't know. It might just be too much deadmau5. I don't understand. No, Morgan Freeman. I don't understand. Anything about this life. Or this world. The fourth dimension. I definitely don't know anything about that. You're in it. Whatever. Look. [Morgan Freeman] God, you have so many freckles. [Morgan Freeman] Look. I got problems. We all do! Nah, not like–Hollywood problems, I'm like, a real psycho and shit. Sounds like Hollywood. Everything sounds like Hollywood–because nothing is real anymore–everything is for the gram, the points don't matter–nothing actyally matters. At all. Oh? Oh. The train comes to a sudden halt, the lights dim theatrically. Not even this? [pause] He holds out a strange object; a golden necklace, which begins to change in appearance–morphing between a medallion, as seen throughout the seasons, and into other integral objects from throughout the series; a small golden pinata; You know who gave it to me? …Who? Got ya. He holds out a strange object; a golden necklace, which begins to change in appearance–morphing between a medallion, as seen throughout the seasons, and into other integral objects from throughout the series; a small golde pinata ; Fuck dude, i'm too tired to write this. But you kind of have to. I mean i don't have to. YOU HAVE TO. I–WHAT? YOU HAVE TO DO IT. WHY. BECAUSE OTHERWISE I DON'T EVEN EXIST; Then don't exist… I'M JUST A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN YOUR SHOW. Come on Drew, knock it off. Wait, is this Drew Carey, or Barrymore. Either or. That's why I didn't write the characters name. Well, which is it? It literally doesn't matter. Yes it does. Honestly?! It could be both! We just shoot it with both and keep whichever one we like better! But how do we know which is actually “better?” Just do it and mix it–cut it up together or something–I don't know! Cut takes! Cut Takes! Ooh, did someone say CUPCAKES. Don't mind if i DO. Well, I do! Why?! What's wrong?! Yeah! What's the big deal! I'm on a gluten free-thing Oh yeah? Keto. Or someshit. I don't know. Oh. Oh. So you don't want these No, I don't. And you wouldn't mind if I– Come on, man. So Good. Grow up. Hey man, i'm pushin 40. Well, I pushed 40–and it pushed back. Get your cupcakes out of my face. You're no fun. Hey! Aren't you that one guy from rick and morty. Formerly. Oh yeah! That's right! You were Rick AND Morty. Hence the name. Wow. Phewf. I heard about that. Yeah, me too. Sounds real bad, how that turned out. Such a shame. Speaking of shame– You're speaking, I'm snacking. That's not that clever. We'll work on it The point is, he's eating the cupcakes. That's not–wait a minute–hold on. What now? How are we ever gonna get these three guys in a room together. [Meanwhile, in another dimension–these three are tied up (read: bound and gagged) in a room together. –Let alone to agree to this!? SUPACREE removes the gag from the man's [JOSH PECK'S] mouth. I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS. That's what she said! Hey! That's not fair! I was never caught up in a scandal! The key word, I believe, is “never caught” That's two words! SHUTTHEFUCKUP. How many words is that? I WANT MY LAWYER!!!! For what? This isn't court. Wouldn't you want the police first? WELL THEN, I WANT THE POLICE. The Police are here. Wait, they are? Oh, thank God Not so fast. THE POLICE enter with full entourage. Introducing: The Police–playing their number one greatest smash hit! Groupies: Woooo! STING I hope you ladies bought the meet-and-greet package, if you know what I mean. *winks awkwardly* You know what I mean. Oh my God. Since you dudes love doing creepy dude shit, I brought some more notoriously creepy dudes to sing the literally creepiest song ever written about being a creepy dude. That's not fair. But it's funny. THE POLICE Begin to play ‘I'll be Watching You” –and they're gonna play it on loop until I get back with your other-dimensional selves so we can fix all this. “WE” “FIX ALL THIS” WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? Nobody seems to know. “--I'll be watching you–” I was FRAMED. CUT TO a golden pocket watch, a wrist watch, a compass–it changes and morphs so quickly that it begins to seem to spin time itself into a whirlwind, until finally a portal opens up from within his hand–a portal which quickly devours him entirely, morphing him into Fuck, what the fuck happened after that Idk I got off the train I guess This is really terribly written INT. SAM ASH MANHATTAN. DAY. A tiny conga for 90 dollars I could die in here Maybe I am just like you I find my way to the prettiest thing in the room And have my way with it Just for a few minutes Consume it, then move on Saw Madison dancing badly on Madison Avenue It's okay, You're a white girl So everybody loves you Everybody loves you Everybody loves you, no matter what you do. As for me, I can't say when I'm going through But you couldn't do it, Madison That's as bad as being at a standst