The Legend of S Ū P ∆ C Я E E ‪™‬ deadmau5

Now my days are shattered
My heart is scattered
Around down,
Fowl feathers of the night owl
Dancing in my head
In given nightgowns
Right now
Put the candle out
Put the light on
Every night,
I'm gone
Wandering around
In the eye of the camera,
My orb
Falcon turned to black panther
I prance around in a dance robe
Like a disaster
Put it out there,
Just so I can't go back
Pass the cake
Pass the butter
Pass the late night hatred
Pass away the day praying
For the faithless
And their fake friends, but
I digress
Once the cameras are rolling
A job's to be done
For the funny men of us
Are undercover
Dressing up the dead
And most disgusting sinister
The winded wonder bread apostles
I am a robot god
I am born again in acid rain
Something changed me
Here's to the late night

I hope he hates me
—I hope I'm right, at least

I hate being right—
But I'm always right.
Right hand over my bathroom counter
Stacked up attacks on the Muslims
But I love em
Or I want to
Hot tub
The doctor

Don't worry, loser
Viewerships down to two downloads
According to the numbers

My demographic is faggots and players of forenig

I have a habit for magic
Addiction to alphas,
You know?
I'm a God
I'm a robot
I was washed in the acid rain

—-

Take the back of my neck like an animal
Yes sir
Put my hair in your hands
Pull me back,
Like an animal
Up the ante
Up in the air is my ass
In a past life
I had to have you
Now I stand I higher grounds
I'm higher now

Coming up next
A deeper addiction
Coming up next
A deeper dicking
John Wiccan
Coming up next
Change the channel, coming over
Move em up
The winners circle
Then move over.

I lit a candle for another lover
A real one ,
With a body and mind
The tide of my soul wants to know you
Behold, way below deck
Deep dick
Imm in deep shit now
Way below the belt

Blow all my hole on the dope fiend
Do you want to know me
A piñata full of chocolate
Ive got a new list
And you're not on it

Aagain with this
Again with the
What's in my head
It's a letter said
Never forget this
Forget this
Forget this

Tell me how to be like this
To get a man like that
To get a real deep dick
That's way below deck

I should settle for less
Just to get my head better
Some medical man
Or some meth
Just to finish this project

I could protect a protector with holes in his pockets,
The proctor
The trophy,
Two daughters
And another one
Here's goes the show

I'm way too old for this
I just need one good Fred Again
Who knows how to hide he's a man
But conspired
Admirers,
You know what it is?
A deep dick, man
Way, below deck
Way below the belt
Get ahold of him
Ring the phone again
I been calling on Collin
Coleen is more polished
It's brother sister sameness,
Same mess for the colonizer
White on white is
Right on right
I'm just behind you
Way under the bridge
Belt around my head to make it better

I'll see you in heaven
Out of Manhattan
Where trash is the precipice
Never better
Bodies in perfection
Where it went
And where it goes again
I'll see you then

So apparently—
Shh
Wrong document

great! Now we gotta figure out why apparently—

[JENNIFER ANNISTON has a vendetta against JIMMY FALLON]

What. For WHAT?!

Idk, what did you do to this bitch?

What did I say?!

What did you do?!

JENNIFER ANNISTON
I'm not finished with you, yet!

WHAT?

I don't know.

Apparently,

Goddammit.

Wait.
What.

So he's a genius, right?

Yeah, I guess.

Which means he's like—socially inept in some kind of way….

Yeah!

Yeah.

Yeah.

Oh yeah.

Flashback:

Like: the 90's, or whatever.

…are you turning me down?

Wait. So I just shapeshifted into J-Lo

Before.

Hello.

hello:

Yeah. We could have done it.

Ew.

But we didn't.



Ew.

I mean:

Cut back to:

Nobody turns me down! Not even me!

Alright.

There's something off about that dude.

Maybe he's gay

The invisible man, in Manhattan
The sunglasses matches her madness
The cloud cover looks just like Texas
The suns going down
And it's getting colder
As the winds blows…

03. JIMMY FALLON

All ya'll are all worth bout a dollar;
I am a cyclone, watch me holler
I lived my whole life underwater
I got a dollar;
Jimmy Fallon

All ya'll are only bout a dollar
I work so hard, I guess for nothin
I am not worried bout a dollar
I got a dollar;
Jimmy Fallon

I guess I'll do it on my own (Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Fallon)
I had to do it all alone (Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Fallon
I made some soup, all out of stones (I don't know, You do not know)
I am the only one I know
(I'm Jimmy Fallon)

I am not worried bout the sauce
I am so famous, (I'm the boss)
got a stalker
I am so famous
Can't go no where
I got a dollar,
Jimmy Fallon

I'm at the office,
Not my home
No collab I work alone
Opened a business, got a loan
I got a hundred of them passwords

I went frontwards
—I went backwards.
(Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Fallon)

Went to Manhattan, took a walk
Went to the rock and dropped a rock
Now put your money where your mouth is
I got a thousand Jimmy Fallons

(What's that)

(I'm the host)

What's that, what's that

I work alone

What's that what's that

I dropped a rock into the rock

What's that what's that

I'm the host, I'm Jimmy Fallon.

I'm Jimmy—

KIMMEL!?

AHAHAHAHAH

KIMMEL GET BACK HERE!

{Enter The Multiverse}

Story/ music video

Moderately famous household television Jimmy Fallon suddenly begins appearing everywhere—that is—
on every possible TV screen imaginable—
The Protagonist, in confusion, can't seem to escape, and also amusingly begins finding Pennies in very strange and seemingly random places—
these Pennies then begin opening up portals, breaking the fourth wall and opening worlds to other dimensions—

Have you seen this?

Uhh, hmwhat is it?
Mits m

“Two dumb Jews”, starring Seth Rogen, and some other dude—

Who's the other dude—?

—some Jew, but it's got Adam Sandler in it.

Oh, so three dumb Jews.

So, no, then?

I'd watch the shit out of that, though, tbh.
Why's the synopsis?

Uhh.

[Two Jewish musicians struggling to make it in new York's congested underground music scene hit it off in comedy by complete accident, after being booked as a duo for a comedy club they mistook for a bar.]

Heh. Okay, who does Adam Sandler play?

“The Bookkeeper”

What. Who the fuck is “the book keeper?”

We'll see, I guess.

No?
Okay, what about

“Two Broke hoes”

It's like two broke girls, but actually funny.

What, be nice .

Okay.

“Two Broke Ghosts”

That's better—

—
And marketable.

Are you pale, or just—
No, I'm dead.
I'm dead.

X.X

Be NICE.

Now our musical guests, SWAGGARBOMB.

What in the f**k kind of music is that

It's called

“Dorkstep”

[the doorbell rings]
Great, who the f**k is

I got a train car of your body count
I got way far out to far rock away/Rockaway,
way out
Stop to talk to me, or don't,
Kill your culture
You need some?
I got u—
Probiotics, yo
The truth hurts
Your shit stinks
Must be a mirror over herer
Cause that's me
I'm your hero.

Esha I think McGuiennes?
Or McGregor, after Ewab, maybe

ESHA MCGUINESS

New York wants me to kill myself
Maybe eventually
New York is full of the devil
The devil is money
And everyone wants it
The root of all evil,
Is getting even
The root of all evil
Is people
Beside myself,
But besides that
The ones hurting me,
are soon to be where I am
That's just karma

The gangstalkers are soon to be stalked
Coughed, and shot at
The neighbors are soon to be eaten by their own demons
When I don't clean them
The root of all evil is evil,
And that's all I see here

White power wants me to kill my self
The Caucasians get crazy when the race war is waging
The elections are coming up
And they see us coming

02. WAFFLES.

Level one
Level up:
Go

Brooklyn has a surf club
(Where am I supposed to surf in Brooklyn—
Coney Island?

How am I supposed to surf in Coney Island
There's a hydroponic needle in my hot dog
That's gross

(2 chainz style)
If you grew up in The projects
I'm sorry;
You should run for governor
Or the Oval Office—
I would trust you to protect us
-31

I'mma change the words up
I want Roscoe
Waffles with some syrup—
Serve holdup;
Guess I'm on the wrong coast
On a greyhound bus, now
Just to go to Roscoe's

Waffles and Shrup
[chicken and waffles
Chicken and waffles
Chicken and waffles
Chicken and waffles] -Sunni Blū

You expect me to go surfing in the projects
F**k is Coney Island? (Nonsense!)
All the trash– (trash) and tug boats (toot toot)
I can't get my surf on!
I am on the wrong coast!

Oh shit, it really was originally
I took a flixbus just to go to…
I fly Spirit Airlines,

Just go to go Roscoe's
Been a long time since I been in it
Do my dance and trance I'm spinnin
Cameras flash
And I look different
I make dubstep
Bitch I'm
[NO!]

—that's like yoncè x

Yoncè crosses NOTHING
Got it.
I don't care
I got flair
I'm from LA
They love my hair
They always stare
And glaring
Imm aware of them
Imm Karen under
All these shades I wear

Chicken and some waffles
Guess I'm on the wrong coast

(nicki style)
None of these n****z can't rap like me;
I am present; under the tree
Can't lock me up,
My love is free
Killing this bEA
Arthur
T-e-a
(I got a secret)

Bitch I'm the best
Bitch I'm bless
Bitch you call me a bitch
I will dismiss you
Listen, kids
I'm dead!

Not regrets
Butter, bread
Suck my twists
Or braid my hat

But your verse sound like murder

Deadmau5 forges an appearance o—

Is it the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon or is it

—late nights with Jimmy Fallon?

I don't know.
I don't care:

Just— look me UP.

NO, Jimmy Fallon!

WHYNOT.

BECAUSE, SIR, YOU ARE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION, and therefore DONOTEXIST..

NO, YOU DONT EXIST!
Not yet, anyway,..
*dissappears*

Oh, the irony…

[Ū/SUPACREE is invisible, and has therefore made this man—

“JIMMY FALLON”

“Presumably”

“Presumably”

We don't know!

— look crazy, which isn't a good look for him, considering…]

JIMMY FALLON stops short, realizing everyone has stopped shopping to stare at him.

—he is famous.]

TMZ
(But is the dude from Lilo and stich with a camera)

(Snaps photo)

JIMMY FALLON
[expletive]

After his appearance on the talk show as Deadmau5, “JOEL ZIMMERMAN, an extraterrestrial secret agent and top level hacker, entraps THE COSMIC AVENGER, aka “JIMMY FALLON” in an inescapable void beyond the interdimensional jurisdictions, imprisoning him in an undetectable and inescapable time hol; a synthetic VOID.

What. What is this.

I don't know yet, what to call it actually.

You look like a T-Rex.

You look like


….like what? What do I look like?

I don't have time for banter, Fallon. I'm a mastermind.

Put me back.

Can't do that.

You're gonna pay for this!

(Shrugs, texting in a slide out keyboard device]
I'm sure I can afford it. Bye.

[the device opens a portal, into which TESTPILOT disappears]

So wait, why is he DEADMAU5, then JOEL, then TESTPILOT.

Cause, that's just now it goes.

I told you, stay away from this guy.

I did! but then—

HEEEEEEEYYYYYY.

What.

HEY,

What, Jimmy Fallon?

Oh, so that's what he did.

TINA FEY
That's it, I'm gonna kill him.
I'm gonna kill—

*gasp*
…Tina?
WHAT.

Can you see me?

Barely!
Who are you?!

WHAT.
Okay, but—
Don't be so angry.

(Angrily)
I'M NOT ANGRY.
I'M JUST STRESSED.

Well, don't be.

DONT TELL ME TO
(She pops her stress ball—)
My stress ball!!

Don't worry—!

(Worriedly)
I'm not worried! I'm STRESSED!
(Almost crying)

It's okay. Don't cry

*almost very ugly crying*
No.
Don

Track 01. OXYGEN

Music VIdeo: The Leveling Up from Hotel Concierge to Superstar Sensation

I'mma just like–
Take one of those luggage carts and prolly dance with it,
Like i used to.

That shit is not gonna work. You were like

It'll work.

You were like mad fat, back then.

SO.
So it; luggage carts shouldn't spin like that;
They don't just move like that.

It's just centrifugal force.
Watch.

Alright, if you say so.
Watch.

Lol Runaway luggage cart.
Fine. That's the video.

All ya'll bitches gossiping
I just can't do nothing right
I should put some vocals in
Channel surf from side to side

I just got another job
Concierge from 9-5
I just need some oxygen
Channel surf side to side

I get paid to go to work
This shit hurts from 9-5

This shit hurts from 9-5

I just got another job—

Concierge from 9-5

I get paid to go to work
This shit hurt from

Out of sight and out of mind;
You are nothing but a problem

I'm a prophet
I'm a God
Channel surf and then I prosper

You just talk and gossip Photoshop and scrolling on your socials
Mind my business, do my job, but
On those eggshells I am walkin

I get paid to go to work
Paperwork from 9-5
I just need some oxygen
-channel surf from 9-5

I been making profit
Turning hours into dollars
Went no drama
I'm on oxygen
While all you do is gossip

You just clocked in— but my shift is fucking over
Peace!

All y'all bitches gossiping
I m in another life
Making money count it up
Paperwork from 9-5

I just need some oxygen
I just can't do nothin right
I just need some oxygen
Channel surf from side to side

All ya'll bitches gossipin,
I am not about that life!
Now I'm doing vocals in the studio
From 9-5
Package came from Amazon
Guess I'm doing something right
Now I'm in the studio,
MTV from 9-5

Mind my business, do my job

My shift done, but,
You just clocked in

K no non N—-

Katt.

What up Snoop .

Ahh,
Look what the pimp limped in.

You think you're clever.

You think you're at least 5 foot—but you're 4 foot 9

I'm STILL
WINNING

CHARLIE SHEEN relapses on the dance floor

Oh shit. Relapses to which habit?

All of them!

10-4

CALL RUSSEL BRAND.

Csnt.

Why not.

He's blacked out.

What? Another relapse?!

No, he just— passed out

KABLAM.

“The Cockney Thug”

He's just like that now.

God

What is it.

Can I have ham in my spam samwhiches.

—you want ham in your spam sandwhich.
Yes.

Roasted cantaloupe with

Put your notebook
On my throat-Scrotum
I like your poems
So I wrote you this one

Oh. That's.

Welcome—to the' creepy shit fans have done for u's backlogs.

“Backlogs”

Well, I have millions of fans,
It would take me years to look at all this.

[the festival project]

Woah.

Woah.
Ok.

Yo.

Have you seen this.
What is it.

I don't know.
Hm.
Look.
Woah:

Yeah, it's—
Wow

Ok.

It just goes on like this—

For how long—

For like
GOH GOH
GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[Tales of a Superstar DJ]

Six hours should have been enough sleep, but now I was feeling strange, almost as if I had woken up into a world where I didn't belong—not that I had ever felt I belonged anywhere before so much, but this world seemed strange and twisted,

I woke up in a cold sweat, and although I had been struggling with a full bladder for sometime, at least semi- conscious enough to point my foot in the direction of the door, still dressed—or rather, almost dressed— well, dressed, by skinny girl standards, in shorts I wore as underwear, but smaller girls would wear for running, the only acceptable crop top I ever owned, a white top with black Chinese dragons, and athletic compression socks—best yet, I still had on my DJ hat, and things had been so outrageous lately that I always felt like I needed some kind of head covering, anyway—it was atrang how suddenly I noticed the difference with and without, but lately anyway

HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ZE RULEZ!

ZE ONLY RULEZ AH ZHAT ZERE ARE NO RULZ!

ZAT IS CORRECT! YOU ARE RIGHT.

ZHET IS BECAUSEI EM ALWAYS VRIGHT

GASPING FRENCHLY, BUT STILL GERMAN

YOUR ACCENT! IT HAS RETURNED.

MY ACCENT ALWAYS RETURNS AS I AM STRESSED AND UNDER ZE PREZZUR!

YES! ZE PRESSURE IS BUILDING! ZE TENSION IS RISING!

ZE TENSION IS ALWAYS RIZING! ZE PLOT THICKENS!

ALSO YES ZE PLOT THICKENS! KISS ME!

(Without her accent, regular)
Don't be gross, dude. We already know we're like, cousins or something.

CUT TO:

YOU ARE ZE BROZAR AND SISTER, ACTUALLY, YES.

…ew , gross, that's even worse.

Why does everyone from Hell have a German Accent?

[POST HOLOCAUST. ]

(Previously like, mostly british, or something)

It's getting kind of crowded in here.

Do SAY.

They're not british. They're like—

Where the f**k is like, the vampire dude from?

Which vampire

DRACULA
I'm Romainian.

Right.

Meanwhile…

Remember when TOTO blessed the rains down in africa…?

Uh, yeah?

TYLA
I GOT THE

Shut up.

Ok.

I'm a dog,
I'm a he, baby
A he, baby
I guarantee you,
My celibacy and attraction to light skinned misters
Is confusing everything
And making me miserable
motorcycles, circling like buzzards I must be dead somewhere in the desert
I see vultures circling
(she's cute, but braids look awful on her)
Suddenly it's on trend
Cause some blonde rocks it
But before that it was
Dysfunctional
And that's the world i'm stuck in

SUNNI BLU
I ripped
I ripper off like a bandaid
Thats all u get
U on medicaid
Bitch that put paint in my koolaid
That was not like a cool aid
Fool
I'm cool herc (ooo!)
You finna get fired cause you late
Right place Right time
Wrong day
You in the wrong lane
All day
See the sign:
It say (GOD)
WRONG WAY
I'm Yonce
Fresh with the lemonade
Now make the bass talk
Yeah
That's the breakdown

Well
Oh well
Lol o
Well I
End up out in Brooklyn
Quite as often as you might just think
Subway car
I'm all alone
I might just dance
I might just sing
I'm in a trance
I can't stop thinking bout
Old what's his name
I lost my mind
I lost my head
I lost my money
Lost thing game
So f**k this game!!!

[a guy in a goth band who has to pretend to be a country-music star.]

lol find him.

k

CHEVY CHASE

DICK CAVETT

AND

JOHNNY CARSON

Walk into

[The Festival Project™]

MEANWHILE

[Fallon is announced as the successor to O'Brien's Late Night]

TINA FEY
WHY.

am·biv·a·lent
/amˈbiv(ə)lənt/

adjective


having mixed feelings or contradictory ideas about something or someone.



Yep.
CUT TO:

HEY. LET ME OUT.
NO, little man! you'll stay in there, until i'n finished deciding what it is exactly you are—

I knew I was in deep shit when I woke up guided by Judy Garland

“More Ghosts N Stuff”

JUDY GARLAND
Good Morning, dear.

BLŪ/CC
I thought I asked for Audrey–

JUDY GARLAND
It was me first, you know.

…
I know.

So, how's this?

Wonderful, Ms. Garland.
You're just–wonderful.

Perfect, she's perfect.

ah GOD.

WHAT

I LOVE HER.

I –you know what? I thought that.

What! The fuck! Is This!

AMMENDMANTS!

There are no amendments…

CUT TO:

]

PATRICK
Where are my notes?

ASSISTANT
I don't know, sir…

They were just on my desk this morning.

I don't know.

GET UP.

NO. I'm sleeping!

[PATRICK kicks VICTOR, his eyes now wide open, however, winded]

Sorry. Did that hurt.

[beat]

He thinks for a moment, and then lets out a heap of breath.

It should have, but, it didn't.

It's Good stuff.

[He removes the dart from his upper arm/shoulder, squinting]

What's in this?

I just told you. Come on.

Where–what?

Hurry up, I gotta get wasted.

[He sleepily rubs his eyes and stretches, looking about the office as if he is almost strikingly alert with clarity]

You–look–you are wasted.

More wasted.

(He shrugs, dismissively, seeming to be quite h

I am conflicted, constricted
Ostracized for my addictions…

‘A married muse— very nice.”

It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful day, but there was work to be done, and things approaching, things moving as they squally did around me, but today with more relax—I had taken a my first day off from the gym in weeks, and was feeling rejuvenated, but ready to hit the pavement
—my new workout equipment on its way, as not to say, there were other things I had been focused on working out, internal and otherwise—and I found it almost curious to continue to ponder on what one much sort of think as taboo, but for some reason, wasn't, I was safeguarded. For the first time in years, my muse, not chosen, however more bestowed upon me, was a married man—which meant, my falling in love with him was baseless, if unremarkably atoned, and temporary as it should have been, and yet, all the more plentiful. I still had added to my portfolio as I had with my other men in forms of songs, further words, and poems, though bemused as I was and finding it all the more appalling— it was all for the sake of the art, I needed none more than the facts I had been faced with—the fame— the soul that danced inside a handsome body, and of course— the thing it was that called to my own, a God in a sense of sorts, for in the years that had come I had learned from my love, I could draw infinite art—though what with it to do, I knew not.

Finally, it didn't matter— there was no chance in the world of the love to be born in the physical world, and for that I was safe and protected— to dream, and to fantasize at will, and unlike some others, I knew myself never to harm or wish to harm one other's well being— I would not dare to be such that marriage didn't matter; I was, in my heart and somewhere in my seeking soul, a good woman. Or at least—good enough to know better, and for now, no better was good, than to write, and to dream, sifting songs and sonnets in my oil soul as it was, a lover's fantasy; and a fantastical one at best.

To new adventures, with a younger man.

Much younger than I, however older than once thought, it was almost an honor had struck, another magician, and master of art.

Take it slow take it all in
On a long walk
Smell the roses,
Don't slip,
Don't choke
Don't talk about it
Hide your love

Piss them all off
Walk the dog
Slit your wrists
When the whole world
Is all him,
The man who hit you
And the justice system
Trusts him
And his light skin
The right color
In the trump era
Now that's a Cold War
son's coming up,
Time to run
411
The 555
Is done for
A parked car
With no gasoline at all

Just remember
I control the gangstalkers
The dumb blondes
The hot Caucasians
The dog walkers
And the ones wearing stars
For the counter curse
Here's a curve ball
Serve your punishment
For wanting it
What was it before?
Love

What is it now?
God

Mirrors at an angle
Can't see myself
So I'm finally invisible

Is it Psy or Sai

I'm depressed because I don't know how to publish anything and I can't stop writing;
I don't know what to do with anything I've written,
And I'm always,
Constantly stressed about money
The things I need,
And feel I should be working
As if I haven't written more than what some writers with notoriety and fame have or had written in their lifetimes
And now, to think, the fame and notoriety seem so small to me;
I really just want the money and to be able to go away
To some place quiet and peaceful,
And to hold my son again.

Shout out to the bass pod
That's probably why my minds gone
Shout out to the old God
Your lady is a robot
I am the programmer
Might need a controller
Take it all apart
Put it back together
I ain't in the ghetto
Certified, it's gentrified

Ah, dag.

What.

I missed the helipads

AH DAG?! We're about to die, and all you can say is “ AH DAG”

THERES MY INVISIBLE MOTORCYCLE.
SHHH.

Sorry.

Unh.O