OWSLA CONFIDENTIAL, LTD.The infinite Skrillifiles: Next Generation— Quantum Force

Lil bitz So I'm watching this is it I love Michael Jackson, So I have this movie queued up for a couple days And I finally get to watching it, And it's been a quiet few days So I'm watching this movie in like silence. And it's so eerie to watch Michael Jackson rehearse in this like full stadium for nobody at all— Almost like, telling of the actuality of him impending death— but I'm watching this, and I'm like, really into it, you know, paying attention to all the details, and it gets to the part, one of my favorite songs: And it's showing him rehearsing like Jam, and you know, it's one of my favorite songs so I know all the words, and he's dancing— going like 110% in rehearsal. I trained in dancing for a little bit— most people don't do that. In rehearsal it's usually conserving your energy and just about the mechanics of everything, you know, the rehearsals leading up are like “75-80%” you know the drill, you get it down, but you conserve your energy for the big rehearsals— the dress rehearsals and the opening nights and the entirety of the tour— you don't want to burn our. But not Michael Jackson. This dude is going 400% at rehearsal, everytime you see him, which is why he's the absolute catalyst of professionalism for performance. But I'm watching him rehearse this at full, max-level energy, and he's aiming “Jam! Jam!” And I'm thinking about how literally this is just before he died, and he's really going all-in singing “Jam! It ain't too much for me!” And I can't help thinking about the irony of this, is that… ‘Like, actually, it is.” Like it was too much for him… because he did this— And then died shortly after. So the irony, to me, was like “It ain't too much for me!” I'm like “Yes it is.” It was too much for him. I couldn't help but notice the irony. “It ain't too much for me!” “Yes it is Michael! Sit the fuck down” Or better yet, dawg— Lay down….(mwahaha) Said, Conrad. “Let's take a nap, shall we?” Too soon? Okay, I get that his death was ruled a homicide: But here's my reverse conspiracy theory. I don't think he was murdered. I think he was ‘exited' No, not executed, “exited” Like, after all that, Michael was just like “ok , i'm getting off here. that's…that's enough.” Or like, we already knew he was immortal and wasn't gonna die anyway, of like, just natural causes. “Might as well make it a spectacle.” “This is it!” (lol that joke still works 15 years later, I guess. The movie is on youtube for free right now so, it's relevant. Its relevant.) {Enter The Multiverse} Every time I stick my hand in the middle of a papaya I wish I had a dick so I could warm it up and fuck it. Top Ten Best Fruits of All Time to be fair, I wrote the papaya joke before continuing my obsession with michael jackson in the monumental comic atrocity. Fair. You'd have to warm it up, though. He said, “Don't say shit” To this day it still don't make sense She didn't give a whisper, Slick tongue, six-nine Try dialogue but nothing she could try to find in time, And so, he counts from one to five and with the lies had come down to talk With the conclusion that after all, She couldn't do this And the story once to be told Now was none I dream in beforehand Secrets and premonitions Now you don't need me, I seek to bleed, sequence Ten seconds, initiated in the heartfire Words now? None I never thought of Before now, Now come. lol remember when Skrillex followed me to Brooklyn? Lol. Didn't I hide in a closet? I don't remember. Did I hide in the closet? What made me look that up? Curiosity killed the cat. Where the fuck is my cat, anyway? Atticus Catticus? The truth is, I think Skrillex might just be one cold hard murderer; I think Sonny hides behind his good looks and non subtle genius— I think I hide my eyes, cause I can't find them; The original pair went into the air, With The Rock And The Kite, And with all the despair in the world I like peaches and pears, After all, This is no random circumstances That you might have canned them, Then a penny for a power Just to recind how I did spend My last hour. Don't worry about that! I don't! Don't look and don't touch! I didn't! Don't gawk and don't talk back; I can't. I never quite abandoned anything so quite as badly As my own Cuban sandwhich Back in the cabbana, BRIAN CRANSTON Howdy partner! Goddammit, not right now! BRIAN CRANSTON If not now— WHEN? I don't know when!! Okay?! BRIAN CRANSTON No, not okay! I'm not okay! Well, why? What? BRIAN CRANSTON I'm not okay! BRIAN CRANSTON is not okay . AHHHHJJJJ!!!'nnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!'nnn Why is this map still open?! I don't know! The moderators won't close it. ANNE HATHAWAY harpoons a large subway rat. Guh! Fuck New York! I'm so over this? Don't you like trademark love New York?! Well not if I'm poor! Ah shit. We're back on the timeline where all the celebrities are poor?! SOME OF US NEVER LEFT. ALRIGHT, WHERE'S BIEBER? Let's just be honest about this unforgiving all out brawl between JUSTIN BIEBER and DEADMAU5 (JOEL ZIMMERMAN) being the trailer park trash event of the century. Oh by what fate have these circumstances foreseen us in such a miserable and yet alluring place To that which these two Canadians, Throughout time and dust marked one another as arch rivals, To have become Neighbors to one another In this, a barren swamp land. lol so from what I'm understanding Uh huh . Justin Bieber and like this deadmau5 guy are like—rivals, right— All time rivals— But in this parallel they actually Oh no, they live next door to each other in the trailer park. WHAT? Yeah. Those two guys. A SHOTGUN rings out through the bayou. Oh. That's— Yeah . This will be easy to do with cut-takes. Cause I think they actually don't get along. Who knows though? A SECOND SHOT seems to have connected with something unseen with great devastation. [The Festival Project ™] TMZ APPARENTLY THE ENTIRE BEEF WAS STAGED. SUNNI I what— ? MORGAN. [morgan does not respond] MORGAN! MORGAN arrives looking tired. MORGAN …yes? SUNNI WE NEED TO TALK. MORGAN …We are talking. SUNNI Why didn't you come before!? MORGAN When you called me by my name I thought it was a joke. SUNNI IT IS. A JOKE , MORGAN What. SUNNI THE BEEF. [ references TMZ, then entirely destroys television] MORGAN Oh, come on— SUNNI It was STAGED. MORGAN (exhausted) I don't know what you're saying. {Enter The Multiverse} I like when you sit on my head; I love with you standard my mark, And I know when you bring in the world, Like a tag to a pond, Or the war come undone I just love when you number (Rumble) My world (There were forests) The total— When you, Ford her, For it Never, Gaping, Tapped and Unlocked, I've been craving— Bacon and eggs, I bought bacon and eggs And then back to the store And my backache this morning was Horrible, How's yours? For thr eleflowing mercy Or all the wars we fought, our Never showing conduct And yet waking in the crossfire There were others, aching Less and less I am enchantments There I'm sacred, planking Four to oars, our Known to knank, three, For to out fire There's no Safety Hours devour, I Wait, Snake, three, Stakes, Five, Four, Done, Sin fire Cease Can I go now? Free fellows For fliers So marks show Hardwire learning Ten fauxes Ten hoaxes So shelf life Won number Take it to courage For are you waiting for no one Colors Courage Oops. Shots fired. Girl, those are rockstars Girl, those are rockstars Girl, those are rockstars Show hosts with hot wives. Girl, those are rockstars, Girl, those are rockstars, Girl , those are rockstars Show hosts with high marks And hot wives And nine cars worth of Hard work Hard work Hard work Girl, those are rockstars, Show hosts with hot wives. Settle down umpire; Great service with hot knives And tourin, tourin— Tune in, tune in. The show's almost over We're covered in You're in, Year in and year out by and year one And don't call cause Girl, those are rockstars, Showstoppers,, Hard acts to follow And show hosts with hot wives. Girl, those are Rick stars, Showstoppers, Headhunters, Headliners, show closers, Hard acts to follow Show hosts with hot wives, Hit shows, High marks. Why, what's your offer? I call. 9 lives. The Legend of Atticus Catticus It's best just not to talk about it; Of course, better not to talk at all– Now, take a look, his demonstrating excellence, Mathematics and precision, yes, You might as well just know it all But measure it all in low doses, short gallops, Heart open, no scallops and Medallions on scallions for the movements meant to move them —Errors. The artist reserves all rights to intellectual property maintained and produced by any and all publications of this series and is thereby protected under any applicable copyright law and/or trademark. All fictionalizations of persons living or dead are meant to be perceived as characterized and/or fictional (fan-fiction) are for entertainment purposes only, and are not to be perceived as real re-enactments, dramatizations of events past or present, media dialogues or agendas, or factual exchanges pertaining to and surrounding real-life circumstances. The dialogues and entires expressed in this project are in no way liable for any action, expression, disagreements, entitlements held by the reader at his or her/ their own discretion. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} -Ū.

I was told specifically not to go to that grocery store anymore— but they had the rice noodles I liked. The thing was, actually, this time, they didn't— and so I knew my time was again coming to a close. I knew it would be the last time before I left, and regardless that I was going to leave anyway, but it felt like the last time— there were no rice noodles at all, and with my arms full of essentials, I figure listening to the voice in my head that told me not to do these things was probably for the best.'I can hear that.' But I was beginning to be rebellious in my actions and endeavors, because I simply wasn't making money, and this was making me not just sad, but actually very angry. {Enter The Multiverse} Professor Tannenbaum. Sir. Yikes. I'm sure I'm shown up at the Equinox Just for [someone] to torture me Cause for what? I'm dead broke, and not a [] blonde I'm on another trial Been tryin, but been a while It's too bad I'm too tired to run a mile I been Up all night It ain't right I hate New York I'm so sick of being broke But I still cannot find a job, I'm so certain that it's hell that I'm l surprised It's not on fire, But maybe all hell is for real l Is a cold heart world With no love in it Where you stop being inspired It's murder for hire with motorcycles And corrupt politicians So if I look a little older I'm smart to sue em So y'op wanna walk toward And cut me off Tryna get noticed by a God But I been only in New York So I'm humbled, mumble like i'm nobody But the no ones try to follow me I swallow all my humble cards I want to pick them up But just for once , I leave my garbage on the floor All these skanks Look like Hillary swank Come to thinking they slick tryna take the energy I make They all look like snakes Lazy But never cease to amaze me Walking up in the world I made Still tryna hate me. Thankfully, it's just a think tank to me and when the balance beam turns the tables on em I'm he back in my temple home; Now it's your turn to be homeless, Ya boneless serpent This is just a bonus l Cause I took a wrong turn But it was the right one Cause I got some rhymes done. Ya'll get off of my nuts Look, I got nine Trump cards Welcome to my dump, lards You're non recyclable! What can I say Besides, That I'm always correct Look at the thing that coughs she's gross and she don't have the touch The flight of love. The touch of god, The twist of the hand Or knowing from before But she benefits off of the blood The coughs The sign of the demons and dark ones It was already a done deal. I knew it was sort of a scam, or maybe even sometimes that rich white peoples had the worst demons of all— My fears had been confirmed the moment I walked in, someone coughing in that same disgusting way as I had been used to as soon as I approached the desk to activate my pass— but I knew as soon as I walked in that it was worth it; I would save everything that I had and sell my outdated DJ gear I wasn't using anyway, and I would take advantage of the offer to reinstate my membership; this would serve me so much more than my equipment was anyway. I wasn't getting along in the DJ world, and in fact after the cancellation of REQUISITE, the disrespect at [redacted] , and the techno Jew telling me my clothes and looks made me worthless in the industry, I considered he might have been right; I would be better off back where I started, at Equinox and broke but at least amongst the clean and quiet elite— this would raise my vibration and clear my headspace for something greater, eventually…even if it was just a job in luxury retail–going back to school or figuring out how to get behind the scene. My DJ days seemed to be over; I needed security and longevity, and I needed the opportunity to come back at the price with a one month advance desperately. Perhaps six weeks of training could jumpstart something better; I didn't know. But selling my equipment was worth it, because being a DJ was getting me nowhere but a quickly depleting supply of coconut water. Man wheezy for real And I don't even feel the pain Came a long way to Wayne I took the 2 train, Fell out of the truth Still trying to find 2 chainz But I went the wrong way I been up all day Somethings wrong, I should probably go to a hospital A long time ago I'm hoping that this tissue mass is cancer And it's fatal tho Fee like I'm inflatable Ain't no man is faithful yo I'll probably smoke a big ol bowl When I get back to heaven, man With a rebel yell, she cried: omg, a leg press. Feeling like, a little bit friendless Should probably get a wet wipe Should probably get some leg lifts in Should probably get the leg press in It's been a late one Should probably get some press ons Probably get my press kits done Should probably call it in But then again Don't got a home much longer Do I! Parallels, This shit is real I get it in for a second then Case dismissed I kept it innocent I went to equinox to reinvent myself A second Take a second thought, And then forgot— I'm at the wrong plaza Nooo? Noooo not [The Rock And The Kite, Part ☠️] The diabolical plan worked The motorcycles weakened the [trigger] bad, We really had her, Out on Brooklyn queens border She looks ten year older Her hair is so out of order Her nails is l chipping in polish Got her caught up in the moment She probably can't even afford it But that is just not out problem! Haha Fuck, I forgot how to do this. Uh. Forgot all my gym etiquette I got a running album on But the track closed For the free trial Imma eat out And by that I mean Freestyle I be out side When I get midtown I ain't been down Since I came out The train station Screens, screens screens Someone please please please Fix me Seem to be Splitting at the seams seams seams I could scream, scream, scream Yes, I see me in the media I need, need, need Something to Ease ease ease me Like an easel Or Julius ceaser Jesus. There's no time I contemplate more On how strange the humanity is Then when working out Intensively. No longer really even interested In sexual relations as it ascertains I may just be the opposite of Satan And I just don't have the patience Or the taste for any sort of Romanticism or fantasies In a trance, I guess But I've been living in the trash, I guess Well, that was depressing. Yes, going all the way uptown And to equinox in the same day Is very often A lot. UPTOWN Yo. Wtf this place is gross. Eeeeeeeehh— GROSS. Uptown is quieter than my hood But full of dead things, I just dread these realizations, But to spread the disease is easy I'm in the red and queasy Meaning to get elevated But I made a play today What was I saying Lil bitz Bro I'm vegan but just got a cat And I did not realize shopping for cat food Would be a conflict of interest . Like, I know cats are carnivorous, I'm not dumb. But I'm discussing this with my AI assistant like, Trying to find a natural cruelty free brand, And she's like “Oh, here's some vegan cat food.” I was like, “Enough, white people!” I love white people— The good ones, you know. Not the *coughs heavily* Like, Those are obviously bad but like Mostly they're alright— Mostly cause of things like this: Vegan cat food! I'm a vegan! But imm like “Don't be dumb.” That's dumb. Cats are meat eaters. That's just vicious! And it's overpriced! I could see if you were cutting corners and skipping prices by like, Forgetting the meat, And this was like a nutritious, half priced alternative But no, Like most things that are vegan, It's double-priced. I'm like “Ahem, I was looking for cruelty-free brands! This by the price point alone is cruel! But I did not realize shopping for this on Amazon Would be such an entire conflict of interest, I'm like “Eughh!” “Gravy swirl” I'm like, “Gross.” And then I'm looking at the flavors like, Are people actually shopping for cat food, Like they're shopping for themselves? They're like “Oh bone-broth infused” That sounds good! “Chicken beef swirled flavor” I'm like “Eugh.” Like it is obnoxious and nasty, I must admit, I've been a Whole Foods shopper for too long I'm like “Hmm. How about sweet potato… like, pumpkin-cod?” No? Ah, here we are “Brown rice and fillet…” Classy. The Legend of Atticus Catticus Tales of a Superstar DJ LEGENDS: ICONS Ascension Deathwish Whatever Else On [The Festival Project ™ ] The Complex Collective © Copyright 2019 All Rights Reserved -Ū.

We're running out of time . We're Always running out of times. Haven't eaten; Kesha—Birkin— Sorry, Conan, Haven't pondered (Fight!) There you are; Equinox mornings Getting lost (Fun) Doesn't shove Croissants down the throat As long as I'm on the island (What?) Long day; Never money Haven't got a (Cat!) Sanctuary (doves) Jimmy Fallon? Never found him (What?) Pools of blood, Nevermind that. I was so sick the night before, Even in my sleep that I thought to call out. But no, “I don't skip freaky friday.” I hadn't yet, and so my streak was valid, but I felt like shit, and despite my sponsorship I didn't feel I had any interest in DJing at all. The apertment was a mess, and though I'd spent the day before for hours cleaning in all the crevices the cat found that I hadn't, it still wasn't perfect— then, why would I try to make it perfect on the brink of eviction with the dread and depression that came with the noise? I wanted to fucking die, and the long hours not spent sorting through my hard drives were instead spent watching Saturday night live and funneling popped corn into my mouth, because indeed— I was actually, finally, chrnically depressed. It could be written off as some coincidence or extreme city noise, but I knew in my heart it was instead asassination, the apartment was a trap and I'd been set up to be weakened enough to eventually either kill myself, or back to homelessness to die. The least thing I was interested in was music, and apparently, though I'd had thousands of dollars somewhere in unclaimed royalties , I couldn't seem to find my EIN— the business tax ID I needed to file papers, because I didn't use it often enough; I didn't file taxes, because I wasn't making money. (At least, I'd thought I hadn't.) I couldn't even remember which subway stop was the correct one; and I knew with this I must have been coming to the end of my time in New York; everything seemed strange and faraway, as if I were in a dream. L E G E N D S: ICONS {Enter The Multiverse} He's heaven But i'm probably his headache What's a medical assessment to lemon merengue And I wish to that same heaven that we're all as sick As what's disturbed to be described by Highest our physicians can abide Just the though of him, The whispers of prolific; Just the sight, I get to writing thoughts As if the words were mine, But still, The caves of wells kept secret, Pure and water like the thoughts, Are just the parallels od subtle secrets Kept inside a box This could be mine, Dammit, a glimpse— Who are I? Caught in a wince with the glimpse of a notion And putting out fires— Who are I? You call? In the midsts of a morning, Worlds over, Neglected, No former recognition, but Who are you for? Not mine, But still a world of sure For art mines Copyright 2019 © The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] All Rights Reserved -Ū.

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

Eyes, eyes— who's got eyes?! Here, I have eyes. I don't want yours. What? Why not?! Eyes, eyes, buys and trades—! The day I met Atticus catticus, I by some strange coincidence also discovered “Toonces” …and however startling it was that they looked just alike, the cat himself had other strangenesses about him that I couldn't seem to shake. The other adjustments were yet to have taken place, but the cat did seem to be armed with a certain spirit, that did indeed show me immidiately things I might have otherwise missed. Still, it was true that this weirdness might have been misinterpreted, but however shallow my aspirations remained to the theatre world, or the world at large, it seems as though there was just stil some kind of strange connection with Saturday Night Live I couldn't shake. Almost like it followed me everywhere. BIG JIMMY runs SIN CENTRE at SIN CITY, an exclusive bar and restaurant in Las Vegas. You don't know about Sin Centre at Sin City?' No. It's the premier underground boutique for all of what happens in Vegas— or, what didn't, if you know what I'm saying. I'm sure I don't z I'm sure I don't either *winks* I need magnesium; Creep level fantastic, I wreak of havoc I wreck the fanflick Fanfiction? Now i'm fired, Give up! I'm a channel Back to the hard part Look at me! I'm getting Eleven miles an hour Isn't it strange how Just this morning In the kitchen I was thinking How I just love Sarah Silverman And how The chemistry with Kimmel is – Creep level: fantastic THen, If this is episodic, I'm not the only one who feels this way about it I might be a bad guy I like the darkness I might be the bad type, I like, Flirt with darkness Jp Did you write this?! I–i think i did. You think? I have forgetfulness syndrome! Why is everybody falling in love? But i”m alone Maybe I'm not supposed to have love So i'm alone But Too many talks to tell, I can't want, But i'm alone, And still Everybody wants to have love And i'm alone I have this weird theory that to be a female And get booked on Seth Meyers Not only should you be kind of almost probably famous But definitely under 120 pounds. Lil Bitz I'm telling you! he's Slytherin! Do you watch the show? Watch the show! Every female he interviews has anorexia! Not a joke! Watch the show. He has a copy of moby dick on his desk! What's that about!? Slytherin! Slytherin! So the question is: Can i fill five minutes with this? Puh This kid. Wondering about five minutes When she really needs an hour of material And a material witness This depression is actually the worst I've been Since I escaped prison. I should have went to Princeton. I should never run for president. Amen. I told you, republican! A bold move, and the light I'm on— Tonight, I'm fowl I get a grin Tonight, I prowl I'm off again. I haven't been this incandescent Since Information on Ronald Regan Came to surface This: his Indiscretions send my regrets to lettermen I haven't had it better since. Gavel gavel gavel! And I ramble ramble ramble on The mouse that lights to gamble Likes the Kat and tattoo addicts But the fans just can't acknowledge That we're on in the apocalypse I gotta get my marks up Or a proposition predicate Or advocates on terror Where's the war you ordered Not another table Kill the waitress Heal the sparrow Right the old case in a letter Harrow, harrow Case is waiting And I've yet to make it Everything I do just makes me Faint, Like I'm exasperated and exhausted All at the same time Call out my mantras— Look, I'm a loser Out in the open Promise Provoke my promocuity once more And I'll get you all fired. Fired! Fired! Fired! You look good in a tux Good suit and tie Good at the desk, boss, Ma? She's a Hard crier I got divorces, Widowers, Window surfaces on a horcrux Hard wires, And hard times on a jarred door Oh! Yeah. It's hard coming to terms with death When your afterlife is Jay Leno on a long highway In stuck traffic And you got to think “I know that guy” But no you don't, You're far from it and still Show hosts aren't for hire In the aqueduct construction, For I? Seth Meyers, young soul! Very hard, but good to know him. Kimmel had a tough crowd, But Fear, I've bartered hard to order. Fries with that? Oh noooooooo! He stopped dying his greys He's been writing for days And he's stuck in his ways: Cheerios are too sweet honey-nutted And honey nutted my rebuttal on live broadcast I finally got comcast, I finally went all broke Ahhh, we're gonna die. I guarantee you, this is that. Tuesday— midnight. What goes on. Didn't I tell you not to talk to me?! They know everything. Don't you know by now I can't be trusted? If I try to call We'll get disconnected And this interception Has been live broadcasted– So I get the picture This is all disaster. Took a number, Run hard, I get there faster [The Festival Project ™ ] For everybody else, Life goes on But mine has not So it feels more like sickness Than just fan fiction {Enter The Multiverse} Copyright 2019 © The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] All Rights Reserved -Ū.

Once Upon A Coconut Like Nesquik out da can I think it, then I can Need a guru, I'm the man In supply I got demand Need a sample mail it to you I arrive like out the blue dude Do you influence multitudes of groups? Unusual Every day all black Just like I pull up to da funural Respect; I keep it mutual Interests and got intellect, delicable like Ecuadorian bananas in DeLorean Or waffles with some syrup on it Sir up in my stirrups: wanted Not about the gossip But it's possible I'll ponder on it Somber I got calmer on em Sub I put a collar on I pull up in the suburbs in a suburban And get my mother on, For father's sake I put the cock in peacock On my color guard I call that comical Scouts honor I don't go to comicon Unless I gotta talk about the robot that I roll up on Or Show up on the show I wrote But no this ain't no 30 Rock My references out of date And my resources out of order But for the record I sort of shudder When forced to watch that law and order show I just don't SVU Omg I don't envy you, I'd rather NV just to EDC so you could see me On TV or In the booth That would be cool —da guru. JOEL ZIMMERMAN wakes up to find three dead mice all lined up in a row; he is uneasy (despite his expression for the most part, remarkably unchanged) —as this is the sure sign of a nemesis. It may even be SKRILLEX. Immidiately he moves through the kitchen and past at least four SUPERMODELS and into the room Where he keeps his mau5 heads— Each of them have been very specifically mutilated, besides one, kept—again—remarkably— intact. It seems to have been activated by a motion censor. It relays a musical message, then explodes. ☠️ ☠️ ☠️ …yes, this was definitely Skrillex. But then— Who really is Skrillex? who really is anybody? More philosophical questions. It seems time for a long ride with some hot girls— And, maybe— A call to the old “friend” {Enter The Multiverse} DILLON FRANCIS is awaiting a very important call. He should know something about this. The phone isn't ringing yet, but it will. DEADMAU5 crashes though the entire wall in an ARMORED SUPERCAR. …or that. — then the phone rings. …it's JOEL. {Enter The Multiverse} Don't worry, I hate you. Good, Jesus Christ. I'm fucking the God version of you in my half sleep More like, Dead on straight Lovemaking Of light proportions But no problem It is all just another portion of a program, Another fierce projection of obsession— So what? I have four of 'em. (I bore them, And they all ignore me.) I woke up this morning After napping in New York On a walkway between Two okay casinos in Vegas But don't know which ones Or what it's called Somewhere between the Encore And the Fashion Show I probably should get back, you know I got a court date coming up I'm on, New York It's really what you wanted Did I leave another Jim unattended from this show Oh, of course The Jim Crow Era! Now that's relevant And scary isn't isn't it? I'm sober But I told you, bro The show is over I gotta protect my sponsorship orders of Coconut water I work under informants For Nothing under the table I'm so under toxic sonic torture I've been disabled I re-upped on all the pancake But I'm out of maple syrup So here's seven for the sixes; I'm severing all connections, I'm severely out of order And I'm running out of water, Look, Call Mr. remarkable And tell him I'm in a mark up Had a hallmark card for Dillon's mother But gave it a second thought and Sent it as a thank you card for my aunt, —The original sponsor; And I should probably hawk or pawn the rock But that would be a whole total disaster, I fucking promise I T S A N A M Y T H Y S T So— Enjoy the mix; (It's a shit one) It'll be a distant and short hiatus, But either way, I gotta make Electricity and rent Without filling it with my purpose so, I gotta cut the show off I'm toppled over at the plaza Laugh at it if you will, But only if it's real I wrote my will and posted it I live and die inside this show I came to the city to live But it's just dying in New York If you go broke and only does your art support you — there's the notice; Couldn't leave you cold Just cause my heart is. [The Festival Project ™] The Complex Collective © {Enter The Multiverse} L E G E N D S & Tales of a Superstar DJ Returns This Fall on All Platforms. thanks for listening. -Ū

Competition at the country club; I must admit I haven't had the habit yet Of psyching out the competition But I haven't even had it yet I'm simply always better and ahead (especially in blind audiences and unpaid promotion numbers) Taking out the competition Everything is tailored custom made and never miss an invitation Simple stocks and bonds You've got more toxic numbers Groms, And undercrossed fingers Simple stocks and bongs You don't belong here But you're locked in as a blonde here James bond bandit And Jennifer Anniston's antics (only water and cucumber, Never salt or carbs I'm hardly even made of carbon, You know Ha Ha Ha.) Mr. Always. Mr. Present. Mr. Precise. Mr. Heaven Mr. Rampage Mr. Me, right? Mr. Yeah Right Mr. Maybe Mr. Mistake Mr. Thank You Mr. Please Me Mr. You're late But where's Mr. Headache? But where's the Kardashian? But where's Mr. Be Straight and On Time And Unconscious? And where's Mr. These Days? And where's Mr. Keep a blade in your pocket? Cause you're one to one with the whole lot of Obstacles So there you are again Throw you off your horse? There must be a room for this Or a template. L E G E N D S That leaving you have in your feeling as a heart… Don't want to watch to go but want Want Want Lost the for you wonder don't know Younger water but I Want Want Want Dealing with my broken parts Underground and in the storage room I don't know what's left of earth But last I heard of her The world was broken I want the window the closed But it won't minimize Left the top open Might as well have been the door I used to lock them, But not anymore The whole world is stolen V.o. You know that magic trick where you're bending a spoon with your mind? BLŪ pulls a BAKING SHEET out of the OVEN with a melted plastic spoon on it. This isn't like that at all. HANZEL Yu Vere Bazically Vurking Wit Nazis. Shh! Don't Say that! HANZEL CONT'D (Shrugging dismissively) Vhat. Jew Vere. {Enter The Multiverse} I got six press kits Costs a fee to book a gig Come with me you could get ditched Come to Vegas, Could get Hitched (Real Love!) I don't wanna take your time up, Cause that be some of mine, hun N if you're tryna find fun, Should probably bring the wine Techno but need a nine? No Ten, I am a diamond Stevie, I'm a blind ya Wonder if that's a low blow But none of that's below me Know you know I ain't your homie I'm the only on who know me Not a worry, I believe you— You don't need me,I don't need you Now you See me: No you don't—Hope to see me {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™ ] -Ū.

Hi, I'm Blū (DJ Ū or simply -Ū.) (pronounced “you”) and you can access my music catalogue on YouTube at https://www.YouTube.com/@thefestival project and my new website www.iamu.guru has a little more information about my project. I am also on Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Music and Tidal as well and you can find the links to those platforms on my linktr.ee/codenameblu {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

She's possessed by the devil The bitch doesn't have a soul She needs fuel from the source of light She doesn't have her own She's consumed She's consumed She's a portal to the underworld And if you want to fuck with her Then you'll be leaving under earth She's the devil in a costume A Satan in a bad place She says she wants to help you But can't even help herself She's stalking in the corridor A next to murder horror show The whore who stole your husband; But she leave a pretty note She's tasteless, she's tasteless She's wasteful, she's hateful She's evil She's bleeding you dry at every angle Needing you for your ways She's crazy Leading you astray She's the face of the dark days; The devil in magistrate Hey; I've been Having a hard time lately Find I Can't Transmute this Skip this track or mute this music is black I feel useless Demons seem to attack Where the booth is Speaking of toothless, I'm lit fuses past two muses Oops Nothing is new Just confused it Oh well Turn off my bluetooth; Now i'm in a few spins Dinner is legumes and the blues I get consumed When the u hits Fuck it Too many matches for the Mystical Rich and famous is Just the beginning Too many of us struggle with the nothing and the lovelessness But listen Guess it just gets better With every hit record Till you make no record But you're still a whole legend: sensation Couldn't finish the new one (For the record) Cause I hate him {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

She's possessed by the devil The bitch doesn't have a soul She needs fuel from the source of light She doesn't have her own She's consumed She's consumed She's a portal to the underworld And if you want to fuck with her Then you'll be leaving under earth She's the devil in a costume A Satan in a bad place She says she wants to help you But can't even help herself She's stalking in the corridor A next to murder horror show The whore who stole your husband; But she leave a pretty note She's tasteless, she's tasteless She's wasteful, she's hateful She's evil She's bleeding you dry at every angle Needing you for your ways She's crazy Leading you astray She's the face of the dark days; The devil in magistrate Hey; I've been Having a hard time lately Find I Can't Transmute this Skip this track or mute this music is black I feel useless Demons seem to attack Where the booth is Speaking of toothless, I'm lit fuses past two muses Oops Nothing is new Just confused it Oh well Turn off my bluetooth; Now i'm in a few spins Dinner is legumes and the blues I get consumed When the u hits Fuck it Too many matches for the Mystical Rich and famous is Just the beginning Too many of us struggle with the nothing and the lovelessness But listen Guess it just gets better With every hit record Till you make no record But you're still a whole legend: sensation Couldn't finish the new one (For the record) Cause I hate him {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

I want to scream at you But even standing at my shoulder length My eye at your chest. You'd be a million miles away Look what I make of you. I have no mistakes left and still The fate of it is that, You have my gratitude, your gracious And yet they eat away At all the things I have And maybe there'll be more of me For now the morbid days are just as caving in as Any other making that we make of it Don't thank me, Just outrank them. Banking on your every moment Effervescent, tragic endings Waiting on your every scent and center Don't disintegrate just yet And now we enter impact Stand for circumstances Do work faster Horror horror Do you know the motive of her Former engines? Motive, motive Steer the plot or rear the message m Fritter fritter Audiences get disinterested So effing quickly. Would you mild or would you mold Or would you wake to fold the eggs into the bacon, Bread, and then tomato— Would you fear her message? Would you quick forget you're on her planet? Surely safe to know But know but knots And no but not again You bought it with your faux and auctions Hallmark cards And feathers fauxes Don't you know The faucet's only running water Oh you're hard predictable And chlorinated Oh the poison Dripping at your ways And wilting at your guilt The James The reckon gestures Reckon, Avery Severed by the check Or just the ever ending Never get there Message to a friend To just keep going When she ends it It is just another death You'll get on with it In the end Never friends. Never. Good I hate you Could you maybe Find me ugly? That's your money in my Every reaching corner Every angling cent And harsh presentations of Skin that's aging and Wages which haven't Coverage to front the Expenses, Crash diets Go broken Ugly cause you're course Everything fits But still empty on the inside I live in shredded Shambles of service But there's no gratitude My breath is only your own And this bread is my headache I haven't a sermon Or diamond Or unworthy Sex appeal And really only Ever off when Only ever on You're still demolishing the board You're still diminishing the severs Yet you neglected Each and every Crevice of this Never ending friendship— But did I ever mention there is a glass slipper For each and every person ever Just to wish one? Did it ever occur to you The circumstances you are under r Live for it Or get lost There's really only porridge in her oven If the gas or turning off or over Don't turn over now The resin's covered in the Corvette. Only cause I had to Sense when is it Blood sense. Get laid Don't flinch Get paid Gold finch Get reckless I call spirits north for dinner South for lunch And up for porridge at breakfast I've passed on I've been awake You're mortal girl The one you're on is Really only such a small pond That I should think To cover up With dirt. Start over. —and Skrillex is just in the corner the whole time playing video games. Worst dream ever. But why's Seth Meyer's mad at me? I'm guessing he always was! He's people are just like that All conservative, conformed— Again, it's not your fault It's just uncomfortable! Again I only ever approached it wanting to know If the l broach l fits But even Lucille Ball won't come if I call her— Probably don't even got the right number Code of arms Or helm of awe, huh. Fuck, man. When's Tonight Show in hiatus Need you off the island, off In Prague And out my anus, Don't remind me I've been Jamie Lee Curtis Just recently enough That I miss it. Ugh. I know, I resent that. Find a line to draw Or fly a kite past I'm past my reckoning Just for tonight, The suffering ends Surely not enough to past the time Before my electrolytes fly in But tonight Just tonight I want to dine in my mind Or die alone Without trying to find the light— The neighbor simply seems to follow it. (At least I got her ought to not slam the door now, Police interventions, There really are cause for those.) What is a warfare! Buy me a checkmark! My question mark seems to go off a lot All for it God, You're remarkable I gift a heart or though I out all my crystals in the Rockerfeller plaza But still held on to an amethyst for Dillon Francis? There those eyes are again; I hate to hurt you North; But I'm no mother board Or mother ship Or Mother Earth Broke my focus long enough to call you up, But sure, I'm just short of even past conscious. Nothing's safe for us, you know. One one to call; No code of conduct– No safety in numbers, or color guard No home, and no love in our times For our kind– We're all here now And the wrong time Is all time. {Enter The Multiverse} Do you see me? I don't not see you. Well. Well. I thought there'd be more having to say. There's nothing to say. Not nothing… Nothing. Huh. —unless you say it. I've nothing to say. Then say nothing. The frog croaks, The oak leafs, The custard leaves its corridors The hark leaps The oath melts, The sworn have sworn To never mark. To no remose, To no remark; The carrier, and carry her— The fierce need, For Vegabonds, For every caper read Amen. All is spoken; And all in thought also in words All is listened And all has heard not in her form Stiff. You're horrified. You're horrifying. Sure, but— Brother— Broken— Nothing that I've never heard before Capable. Half-friend. Northerner. Cape cod. Hamptons. Fair straights. Ancient. Sacred. R I T U A L S LEGENDS: R I T U A L S OH GOD. No! NO! NO! It just keeps going! Thank you! Thank God. I thought it was over. You were invoked. I was implicated. Fun fact: Here's the thing. You were murdered. Ah, gains. Why the fuck do I never get to just choose when this happens? Cause you don't. This isn't fair! I watch 2 segments of— STEPHEN COLBERT enters. *shattered. Shithead. STEPHEN COLBERT enters shattered. —I was shattered when I heard about it. What's that? Never you mind. I didn't— I just— asked. He finds his way to the round table in the center of the dark room. He seems twisted; it's as if he's been blindsided. Capable. And still there's nowhere In here The city we share I can go To make the sound Eager to leave my soul As how I know you. Awkward! Just wait. You've been betrayed! I— know that already. Is this your card? {Enter The Multiverse} GET OFF THE TRAIN. — Lil bitz Fool. Why every time I see you, you look guilty. Why. You never look innocent at all. If something went down — I know it was you. Hide a lie; Can't hide a lie Can't tell a tell Can't roll the ball Can't bowl the strike Can't run at all Can't fool the hare Can't skin the cat Can't dance a bit Don't row the boat Can't play the role Don't know the tune Can't trim the tree Can't hold the bowl Can't kill the fowl Don't tell the tale. Hide a lie. Run a mile Taste the bile Fill the basket Now you're moron Now you're mortal That's immoral Jimmy Fallon —that's a turtle. Tell the lie. Hide the fold. Kill the curse; Sail the ark Fill the void Hate the gap Kill the king Tell the tale Tell a lie Hide the [The Festival Project ™] knife. In for life, or what? Info wars at most. Live to tell the tale? Learn to spike the punch Learn to punch the wall Lean up on the door Learn to most of all Shut the fuck up Keep your mouth shut I love New York Give the bad news Put a smile on Oh you gotta love it I get close to nothing once a month And then come back To pull the puffer out the dragon Goddammit what you want me for I learned another lesson Don't devour her All I wanted was Just a sour odor Give the last call I go heroin blind For heroine times And by the time it all gets darker I will have pulled the plug and written on the wall in Permanent marker. ugh. Fuck you. Fuck The Doors. Fuck your chorus. Fuck your archer. Fuck, you found I. I all for her, Shoot the wombat; —But the door shuts on its own Without it getting harder, now. Don't it? Donut. i don't— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Okay. I— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I— Belt Buckle Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Belt buckle. I don't— Belt buckle— Belt buckle. Belt buckle. Can I contour? Not even one episode Or epicenter Even for a lonely I got the warning For your magnitude before So what you want It's just a test Pacific coast Or night crawler Nightmare or Nightfall You swore you won't I do desire not a lover But a hand to hold And father for my own So. Shove it up your Probably want a I don't need disaster warning What you wanted Limoncello Light waves And light gave a damn I have a dance I cave to for And there you are Just a horrible oar, Now I row the boat But you don't disaster Nor could you decide to divorce her Even if I ever worked At Art gallery Organizers God, you wore her sweater Just to make it all seem rather backwards If perchance I ran my hand just over All the soft Love in the world Are you not a dozen roses? To far my flames I gave you my heart Flower Done moving Don't moon Did you really pay the neighbor Just to hate me Haven't you heard On our earth There's turf war? So far, white doves But no lost wolves, Poor pigeons, following Of course you were hard wired I hate not once But all times the hurt Each time I struck Sure I want for California And Equinox saunas And then no more do I run the tub! But for now as I soak and the roach prowls, I get my motion under the water,

I don't want to feel you I don't want to know you I don't want to lay here By your side As you cry At night I don't want to feel you I don't want to love you I don't want to owe you a letter I don't want to decay you Don't you know That I have Already betrayed you You don't. You don't know anything Your pretty little words are just The fear in my heart [The Festival Project ™ ] Turns out, I only sing when I'm sad I feel bad when I'm in trouble Can't escape but have to smoothie it Stroke the engines But I tend to choke otherwise Nothing right now sounds better than chocolate I suppose I'll settle on Some Simple structure I suppose I'll get along With Why can't I be the girl in the songs that they sing about! Can't get it out of my head But still I sing along As if the skinny pretty Fragile porcelain things They need And sing about Could ever be me She could never be me So I'm evil But she's the straight up devil Yes I strain to smile But rarely do I sprain and ankle I've been praying for departure The city, country is just torture I should really comb my hair though I tend to cry my eyes out Then pretend I'm not But you're pretentious I can't even get a job. {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

Yesterday I jogged 3 miles watching 30 Rock. I don't know where I've gone besides deeper in my mind and somehow further from The Rock itself. Maybe I should turn my treadmill facing west. Running in the direction of Queens is bringing me extreme discomfort. This is at the level of functionality that everything seems impossible. I'm tired from the moment I wake up, and yet struggle to fall asleep, even in the earliest of morning when I know the only quiet in the day will come. Everything is upsetting, and I miss my mantras; But nothing comes but the silence of the brain When I'm not filling the void with sitcom antics and the subtle romance. Tales of a Superstar DJ The Complex Collective © Copyright 2019 [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

Lil bitz I applied for a job as a high end furniture sales person. Then they asked how much experience I had in high end furniture sales. I told them five. “I consider myself high-end furniture.” {Enter The Multiverse} ROBERT DINERO You are you very well behaved. Who'd you get. ‘Science.' Physics? No, it just says “science” Oh, I get it… What's to get. You're in the—ahem— What is it? Special class. What. Guess what. [the class sits in confused silence.] YOU are special! [they remain silent] You are all special! [nothing] You are special— You are special— Thanks, T. I owe you one. One doesn't cover it! L E G E N D S —especially you, Jimmy. Which one? The teacher looks over the roll; there are three pages of ‘Jimmy', many of whom even have the same last initial. …all of you. [The Festival Project ™] WILL FERREL has changed his do-rag, but not the attitude, or somewhat offensive cultural habits that seem to have come with it. You better come correct! I am correct! Oh god. Is this what that dream meant. Somebody's been having lucid dreams. …so let's talk about this. I would rather not. I tend to treat my podcast audience like a therapy session. That way they know I'm messed up and broken just like them— like everybody else. But somehow, that doesn't translate onstage. It's Tuesday. I know that. Turn over, Timmy! No way! Just do it! JOSH is certain “Timmy Turner” is actually his old pal DRAKE; he'll only know for sure, however, by checking that he still is branded, with the scar from “the bull riding incident Are we doing a flashback. Not yet, but maybe— I don't know if we can afford it, I said NO. Please. Negatory. {Entet the Multiverse} Scribble scribble; I love Jimmy Kimmel I just put the joker to the riddle Dribble dribble Ball like Jimmy Kimmel I just put the cat onto the fiddle I like temperature like double digits I get mentions every time I finish Had to cut my mama off Cause it don't matter Had to cut my neighbor off That's a door slammer Had to file a report That'sadult matters Cause I'm building a rapport— That a dope mansion I be keepin it dark; That I don't mention I ain't in the army But I give em my attention That's a limp biscuit I did it then I didn't Impress if I'm presenten' Depressessed if I'm regressan {Enter The Multiverse} The Complex Collective © [The Festival Project ™] -Ū.

Suddenly seeing in these sepia tones Stuck up in a glass house But I throw stones Hold up I lost something This brother says stuff like he's not done yet I'm really not the one yet Haven't gotten up yet Long ass nap Like a death coma I regret Roma Only cause I end up a New Yorker More work but yet broker Unless you corrupt Or a stock broker Believe it Thanks for dancing on my grave. That really made me take a second thought to give it another go, So you wanna be a movie star, ah? I am— already a star. But a movie star. {Enter The Multiverse} Look, this is your third wife already! Watch it! You should be behind bars! Well why aren't I, then? I was trying to be polite! Be quiet, then. Look— Food, please. There is no amount of damage control you can run on this— it's out of your control. (Eating uncontrollably, mouth full.) Nothing is out of my control. I said— Nothing! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] The Complex Collective © -Ū.

Suddenly seeing in these sepia tones Stuck up in a glass house But I throw stones Hold up I lost something This brother says stuff like he's not done yet I'm really not the one yet Haven't gotten up yet Long ass nap Like a death coma I regret Roma Only cause I end up a New Yorker More work but yet broker Unless you corrupt Or a stock broker Believe it Thanks for dancing on my grave. That really made me take a second thought to give it another go, So you wanna be a movie star, ah? I am— already a star. But a movie star. {Enter The Multiverse} Look, this is your third wife already! Watch it! You should be behind bars! Well why aren't I, then? I was trying to be polite! Be quiet, then. Look— Food, please. There is no amount of damage control you can run on this— it's out of your control. (Eating uncontrollably, mouth full.) Nothing is out of my control. I said— Nothing! {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] The Complex Collective © -Ū.

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

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

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

Did you ever get the feeling that it might be right? Cause I woke up in the shit, And then I paid attention with resentment Had this Patrick for a second amidst the witching hour For a glitch or an instance power, The list, with a mix of here and now Or here and there Whatever you rather, Dan But I guess for now you call me Hamm, Cause I will Jon' you in an hour After all the words have been said Over and over again, you just get cleverer with em Face it, This is considerable damages if by admission I have to press this red button Every time I take a dump Because of these microagressions And blatent intimidations, Racism and hatred, Cause somebody thinks it's okay To attack me when I'm naked And the justification is just that Genetically and empathetically One of us is deficit in the other— Guess which one How does it feel To feel And be real Or be realized So what's the deal With this meal And the plan To dance on the attacks Of your ancestors What's on the middle besides resentment And a clearer picture or each and every or other infinite spectrum? What's the problem with the problem with the kids today? They aren't that smart But they sure look good The problem is, They're all talk, All mouth, and no thoughts {Enter The Multiverse} Is there more? It appears so. Oh… (He takes a long and heavy drink) Its in here too, isn't it? Yes, its—everywhere, sir. All of a sudden, I'm sir to you? I feel as though there may be some impending legal action, and I'm just asserting my loyalty and respect so as to “go down with the ship.” If need be, uh… Well! …sir. You are a good page, aren't you? I hope so. Yeah. [The Festival Project ™} Ugh, I don't have time for this right now. VICKY MANSON is gross. She is a 45-year-old chain smoking trailer trash homebody who tends to menace others behind the “safety” of her computer keyboard, frequenting facebook to rage about email issues like politics and celebrity gossip, still attempting to torment Timmy Turner via trolling him using various social media outlets. She's been called to “Watch” TIMMY, serving out his house arrest sentence while his DAD leaves to attend POKER. {Enter The Multiverse) Copyright The Collective Complex © [The Festival Project, Inc. ™] © 2025 All Rights Reserved -Ū. ____ Omg. This is out of line. Agreed. Call regina. RE-GIIIIIIII-NAAAA!!! She ain't come Call again! [opening the window, yelling out into the project housing courtyard and echoing into all of existence.] REEGINAAAAAAAAAA! [The Festival Project ™] What. Damn. I was just gettin' my weave pressed…and dish soap. I love that new deli. Mm. Hmm. {Enter The Multiverse} We come from the ghetto We lived in each borough We live in every corner We live in these streets We loud in this bitch We proud in this bitch Don't come round this bitch Without a pot to piss in Taking pictures? Bitch, As God as my witness, A snitch is a snitch (but in a limited capacity, I get it, I'll help you win this, Ain't no case dismissed in this settlement This disturbance is egregious, Believe me, I've been causing a scene since 3 AM! Dayum! I might be somewhat prolific, Or even a genius, But right now I just want peace, A Peloton Ride And A peanut butter and Jelly sandwich But weight, i'm out of peanut butter My weight is getting out of hand, Don't know if that's a gangstalker, Or just another obsessive fan, Object, your honor to pardon your direct justification of this heinous hatred I'm helping the gentrification efforts and also Directly affected by them, Because i'm african american (Or half) But what is half to a racist? I take it as nothing less than hatred if each and every time I bathe Satan comes out to play And hey, Isn't it harassment if every time i'm in the bathroom The door slams, and this whore yaps Right outside my door To cause hate and bait me into Further establishing a race war, When all I wanted was a sauna, But i know i can't afford it, And I love New York, But honestly, I'm poor, So i just got bored with it. I probably should have been aborted. To this, a glitch— A wish that I could just Push my forehead into his chest, I digress, though repressed sexually and interested This sickness is just what he senses as sensual —And I'm understanding of that. —Purpose. I still have four muses, Four mouses, No heads A sad nd four robots Four hoses of cards And no forwards Just haloy endings That I can't Exactly plan yet Fuck this planet It appears someone has badly damaged it No recompenses or divorce No compared, No doors, And no cubords No, Just dead bird in a box Covered in plaster And a disasterous ride With no happy ever after exactly Just another adventure in wonderland And wonder if perhaps You ever could even Know who I am What a clever disaster For sure this serves as serious Let's just get this The the rumble or the severed train above her is still somewhat of a numbing To the other corruption under This, too then, is a lesson unless It just ends and let it simmer But remember, If it isn't in her It'll be another Fondant farewell, When the dinner gets to convection temperatures in the oven, And you're not over her The dozens of doves and boxes of chocolate don't hold nothing to the love you have and the hand you hold And the heart you touch, So don't let it turn cold Don't let it turn over and thump either Don't let it burn And don't let it lower into Where you mind goes When you consider another And another Over or rather You know? Just aim for Satan and everything's great then. Put a cap to a cape then and everything degrades, Fair wealth, good culture, good heart, And all focus It goes out the window to dance with the wolves l Like a bowl full of nothing but meal worms, Not oats Look closer over your breakfast You never know even if you can trust your own mother at four years old But good, god, thank god for the Honor roll Or else how else would the world know mid you were at all all worth it at all of four And still under par, The gold course, of course Is all you know Don't let it go now When all you have Is time in your hands Distractions are hard handed But actual damage? Now, that's hard pass You wanted a song so much Just so the wrong world would call you up For hurting our kind Without ever having known what my mother named me mor why I have to change it Or what the baby calls me From so far north in a place calls home But I'm still not not So you get your rocks Slamming the door I'm at the rock In my mind Hoping for Something better You Wasted All My Time Over What! Don't you know How hard it is To be anything in the world But a pretty white slut! What a knife in the back What a curse on the world— Just to start wars so it never works out Or at the very worst Just keeps the first one going It doesn't get awesome Until I For Real Can block out the whole world Just to upset another? No I came in peace You made me anxious Hold in my waste At the aim of your hatred I heart my hard earned But now I've got nothing more Than the scars on your over opinionated Over offended War cries for her justice But only if it out does mine, Right? Actually, Fuck it I'm over it That's all the words I'm gonna waste on this till bitch You wanted my energy, so you stole it But becareful of What follows it —you're welcome. My license is revoked I've forgotten long ago by now how to break stroke And it's just a throat scratch, A dark dive And I'm trying to try it out a bit But love's a bitch And I don't really ever speak her language I've been distant and lost in translation, and most of all Impatient with the amount of time that it's taking Cause I hate that guy, he's a fly in my space thst just doesn't seem to go away until they mate and lay eggs to replace them. Ugh. It just goes on, It's whatever the buzz It's just all full of lamb and the talk of the town Is who you are now So, how I found out? A roundabout kick to the ass And a fax to the mayor, Before I realized He seems like a complete hater, bro. I have an eight year old, But I haven't seen him since he was five And I think I'm gonna die Cause everyone's nickel and diming me And all I happened to find Is a single penny, so that— Two hours of mixing, Once cent I made— By now he definitely hates me And has been trained to think I'm crazy But these days, living paycheck to oaucheck is a thankless job And the techno snobs are responsible for the upkeep of auschwitz. It seems like a colored woman with a dream should just Get behind the scenes Or a man that sees meaning in her So this is demeaning? Is it? Am I green, or am I greenlit— l And I clean, or am I cleaning Should I Charlie, or should I Sheen it? I could admit I seen it coming but I wanted to disagree with it, It's psychic intuition but all it is is kicking my ass Like I'm inside or the telivison. What's my last name!? I'm the hat man! Are you happy? No, I'm sad man l! And quite thirsty; Is it Thursday yet Or should I should I just get to drinking anywayy I hate all this thinking anyway; I miss l LA but seen it from the scenic route; I used to sleep on the bus and the train, But what I really want is a house And just to be left alone, Some grass to mow, And some to smoke, And a tree to grow, Just like the one from Pocahontas OH SHIT YO. Why, Hello Friend! Oh, this is where that Treepeople thing was going? Yes! No. No? No. No why. Cause we went broke . Went broke what. Trying to get you to— you know— No, I don't I know. You don't know? No? I've no idea… Oh; that's right, you haven't got a clue. {enter the multiverse)} what did you do at that afterparty Stephen?! I TOLD YOU