Me, Myself, and I.

Sunnï Blu Stone

After an enormous writing catharsis and extreme strike of inspiration which has lasted for five years, following an eight year writer's block an artist finds herself drowning in the massive amount of largely incomplete and unpublished works she has created; hundreds of thousands of documents, worlds within worlds, catalogues of music, and series of novels--as her inner worlds and outer worlds begin to mesh and collide into a self-fulfilling prophecy of instant manifestation, the worlds and characters of her fictional works taking on lives of their own in the real world. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

  1. Oct 4

    Lost Cause: More Secrets.

    EXT. SKYLINE / ETHER - NIGHTA glimmer of light.Shimmering waves of silver and grey; Suddenly flushed with boredom, I mull over my own subconscious amoral Hemisphere of hemoglobin —A Closer Look.WRITER 1 (O.S.)I TOLD YOU ITS PRONOUNCED TEEEEEMOOOOOO!!!OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN, JIMMY FALLON Well f**k you, I hate you.New Character: Stripper named Mahogany RayneMAHOGANY RAYNEIT'S BRITNEY, BITCH. WRITER 1 (O.S.)Oh shit, it really is. WRITER 2 (O.S.)I Kno. {enter the multiverse} COSMOOh no. This feels good. WANDAWhat’s wrong??COSMOI thought we broke up.  WANDAWe did technically broke up. COSMOOkay!Okay: WANDAI need a minute. MYSTICMy heart is heavy, My breath is shallow, This six knives which I foreshadowed nineFor still my heart, with that And oath my blood but knowledge forth, For trade and honor!Lies! Beneath your widow’s peak and salted ash, For ice became my fortune; True to mark for once,I hold you son, and then forgotten Slide my own and murky weathered praise within your virgo’s cosmic force, And this became her axe and slaughtered that, Becomes my curse, so bury that below my grave And alter what I knowe’th, for this I mark,My horse and stables to your iodine, Now become I, mine ,Become my mind and carry wayward trips, With such does melt within thy lips and eyes, As mine, my blood, and draining in your corpses, Run from tithered bond is mine, my own, And then became my last; No force of lust or love but life would draw thy blood But then my own as murder with your hands, again my axe, I have, But ask of you one poet.My love. I am betrayed again you half my wit,And thought eith lies as does betray you in my focus; Then, there, whispered ties I bond, And truth my proof with axel in my surface. Wood, and brine, with blood and wine, Did I dear suffer in dine Hollywood with eleganceFor there her feast had flooded with your waiting,And our purpose, Give now, my force, with want denied, And now, my blood, though withered and your foreign, Drift away with where depart your time from our adrift, Her eyes I had becometh. And now, I mark, our eyes and timesNot one, but all our eyes become What mind had ba’erd here truth with time Shall force her waves to change, and then her current. Sift now through these things, And then with leaning eyed did wander I, (Eye) To want and now became her luck, and force of doves, So shoot into the sky with such devout and then encumbered; But O, I am awakened in her arching back and truth with knives does split into my veins!Again I slandered by to find and thine to trust, And thrust with wander in my thighs and without judgement. Then with night did come as I, Not with but far and battered in my warrant; And oh did friends make I with also friends and kinFor there within in discouraged banter, bark embark or banter in my flurries waves of force, and so once dead And I did slumber. Amen—A Time. [the festival project ™] WRITER (O.S.)Ok that’s three times Lorne, what do you want? LORNEWell, I’m a company man. WRITER (O.S.)I don’t know what that means, suits. V.O.Unfortunately, I had a feeling though, since I’d wondered, I’d soon be finding out. INT. WHATEVER. UGH. Ace. The Ace of Spades again. I just— don’t understand. There was a pain and heaviness in my chest, And anytime I looked at it for long enough to feel myself and realize what I was doing, I would begin to panic. What was this anxiety? INT. ROCKEFELLER PLAZA STUDIO 8H. DAY WRITERHey Lorne. LORNEHello. WRITERI heard you had a place… LORNEWhich place?WRITERA place where um..I can—- I can scream?LORNEOh, yes. WRITERYes?LORNEMy “Screaming Place”. WRITEROkay… LORNEI’ll send a car. WRITER…alright. Thanks. [later] WRITERHey dude. What’s up. COLLEAGUENothin—Um, WRITERWhat’s up. COLLEAGUEUm. Lorne let me use his “screaming place” WRITERYeah? Nice. COLLEAGUE—it was nice. WRITERI bet. COLLEAGUEBut now, he keeps asking me do weird favors. WRITERSo do them. COLLEAGUEYeah but— [more seriously, staring him directly in the eyes.] WRITERDo them.“ Enter The Lipowitz, Part I.” ‘The Screaming Place’ INT. LORNE'S OFFICE - 1977 - NIGHTLORNEThe Ace— Again! PAUL SIMONHey Lorne! Whatcha doin’?LORNEPlaying cards! Or I thought I was. PAUL SIMONWhat do you mean?LORNEShuffle those for me. PAUL SIMONWell, alright. LORNEReal good; and I mean it. PAUL SIMONSlow down, fellow! What’s got you all riled up?LORNEA race against time! PAUL SIMONJust shuffle, alright? LORNEGot it. [beat] PAUL SIMONThat should do it. LORNEYou’re an expert marksman, aren’t you?PAUL SIMONWell, I suppose— why?LORNEBecause I might have you take me out and shoot me after this. PAUL SIMONWhy!? LORNEDepends on the card. PAUL SIMONAlright. LORNEAlright. I draw it. PAUL SIMONAlright. LORNEAlright. Now. Throw the deck away.PAUL SIMONThe entire deck?! LORNEYes!PAUL SIMONIt’s a brand new pack of cards!LORNEI know it! I bought them! I bought all nine of them on the desk behind you! [he hadn’t noticed] PAUL SIMONFor what?!LORNENevermind that.lol at Seth Meyers looking like a whole Keebler elf retirement party. Yo tell your friend let his grays grow out. (Psh, Up and downstairs, if you don’t mind.) PAUL SIMONI don’t like you. LORNEI know why, PAUL SIMONYou want me to— LORNEJust— yes! PAUL SIMONWell alright, but I’ve seen Carson do card magic, and I tell you, one bit I don’t like it— LORNEJust toss the cards. PAUL SIMONAlright, alright. [he tosses the deck of cards into the waste basket]  PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)So?LORNENow. PAUL SIMONTake this card. LORNEAlright. [he does] PAUL SIMONNow what?LORNENow I’m leaving. PAUL SIMONWhere to?LORNEDepends on the card. PAUL SIMONWhat’dya— LORNEDon’t tell me. Not yet. [he puts on his jacket and leaves] PAUL SIMON(Throwing up his arms) Comedians! JOHNNY CARSON has appeared from out of nowhere, in passing from outside of the office. JOHNNY CARSONMagicians, more like. PAUL SIMONJesus, Goddammnit, Johnny!You scared me!JOHNNY CARSONDid I?PAUL SIMONDon’t creep behind me like that!JOHNNY CARSONLike what? [beat] PAUL SIMONNevermind. Suddenly, the desk on the phone rings. He looks at the phone, then quickly back up— JOHNNY CARSON has vanished. He takes an exasperated sigh. PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)Geez Louise… The phone continues to ring. He answers it. PAUL SIMON (CONT'D)Lorne Michaels Office. LORNEHi. It’s Lorne.PAUL SIMON(With sarcastic sweetness)Oh, Hi, Lorne.LORNEHello: Quick— you’ve got the card?PAUL SIMONOf course. LORNETell me what it is. PAUL SIMONWhat is this about? LORNEI don’t know. PAUL SIMONYou’re getting too old for this. PRESENT/OLD LORNE appears behind 1970’s LORNE, smiling and waving; he looks over his shoulder at his future self.1970'S LORNEDon’t I know it…PAUL SIMONYou tell me!1970'S LORNEI can’t tell you much of anything right now, erhm— But do me the favor; which card is it that you have in your hand? He takes another disgruntled sigh. PAUL SIMONIt’s An Ace. Lorne’s bright round eyes stay wide but begin to darken; he peers forward into the crowded city street from the telephone box— A phone booth I know what its called! —Phone booth. He then looks behind him peering frightened over his shoulder; the old man has vanished.WRITERS ROOM (O.S.)Run, Jimmy— Run! 1970'S LORNE—what?Suddenly his voice is low and cold, his eyebrows tilted in with a disastrous confusion. 1970'S LORNE (CONT'D)Ace of what? PAUL SIMONUh– Spades.1970'S LORNEThanks. PAUL SIMONAlri–[A Third and Final Exasperated Sigh.]He places the card on the desk and leaves the office. Before he can even get a word out, Lorne’s clearly hung up the payphone, slamming it into its receiver with a respectable amount of control–it still rings out with a slight chirp as he turns around, frustrated, facing the city street behind him.  It begins to rain. Suddenly, He realizes that where the man was standing just before, behind him but now just a head and a step away from the phone booth, something appears to have been left on the ground. Thunder and lightning strike in the distance, and the wind begins to blow; the sky is suddenly much darker and much greyer. As the rain comes down harder by the second, Lorne pulls his trenchcoat around him tighter and pulls up the collar to try to protect him from the weather–it does no use, but still be forces himself into the walkway just off of the plaza, from where he can see the light in his office go out just in time enough to bend over to the ground and find that what’s appears to have been left on the ground by the old man–which he’d easily identified as himself for a time–is, of course, None other than the card itself. CUT BACK TOINT. LORNE’S OFFICE. 197X ROCKEFELLER PLAZA. The light turns out and the door has been shut behind the last to leave the office for the night.That office, anyway. The Office of The Beloved Lorne Michaels. The Year is 1977. (Or Something Like that) The card which has been left facing upwards at the corner of the desk glows in the darkness if only for a moment before sinking into the dark wood of the fine oak desk, and vanishing entirely. In the pouring rain, Lorne holds the card in his hand, now sort of calm and overcome with enchantment. He hails a taxi in the rain, –which works for him, because he is a wealthy white man.Montage: We see that it has fallen into a dark and moonlit night and though the rain has subsided, Lorne drives his car along a long and wooded route; He is somewhere far, far away now from the city, with the window down and the wind blowing his long brown hair dry. The road winds up a mountain and a he drives the woods and trees and rivers, streams, and even the sky full of stars becomes soon the golden drenched morning of a country mountainside–He continues to drive, and drive, and drive–e

  2. Oct 3

    Lost Cause: Live! On The Grid

    Ahdgh.  SONA enters, clutching her left ribcage.  She appears to have been STABBED.  Don’t say stabbed.  For all I know, that might happen.  F*****g magical idiots.  Imbiciles!  You know what. You’re right. I’ll fix it,  She is [quite obviously] WOUNDED.  DAVID  Sona! Hello.  SONA  Yeah.  DAVID  You look nice.  SONA  I always do.  DAVID  Except you have a little something on your—  [he realizes her wound]  DAVID  Oh. SONA  Yeah.  DAVID  …should I ask, or? SONA  He stabbed me again.  DAVID —Conan?!  SONA  Who else would keep stabbing me? DAVID  You’re right. SONA  Could you—  ? DAVID Certainly.  He exits, leaving SONA to her own accord;  She removes a small wrap of sorts from a cabinet above the pantry, pulling with her teeth, before activating it, reaching for what appears to be a WAND before wrapping it around herself; she partially collapses on the counter and takes a sigh of relief, before pointing the wand briefly at her ailments; she only begins to heal barely when suddenly, she hears her employer— and magical companion— working his way in.  She takes a sigh of dilapidated defeat, calling out.  SONA Ugh— don’t come in here!  CONAN  Are you serious? How long could this be taking? It’s just a stab wound. SONA I’m not ready for you yet.  CONAN  I would have thought for you to be halfway up the canyons by now.  SONA  — through the same place twice.  CONAN  What if I use my wand? Would that be making any difference? It’s quicker.  SONA  It is.  CONAN  So it’s settled then.  SONA  Well, go ahead then.  CONAN  —I don’t have it.  SONA  Then why did you say anything—?!  CONAN  I was just affirming it’s quickness.  SONA  Are you serious  CONAN  It is superior.  SONA  Forget it, I’m already finished.  CONAN  Well then—I guess I’m useless.  SONA  You’re an idiot.  CONAN  Did it leave a scar? SONA  Probably. Last time it did.  CONAN looks at his CANE SWORD with a dignified approval.  CONAN  That is nice, then. Remind me to send a thank you gift for him.  SONA  I already did.  CONAN  (Scoffs)  Well, that’s ironic; didja consider whether you’d be getting stabbed with it? SONA  [Yeah] —I contemplated.  CONAN Go get cleaned up.  You look disheveled.  SONA just groans and raises herself from atop the counter.  GORLEY enters with a boba tea.  GORLEY  He stabbed you again. SONA  Masterful observation.  SONA exits, healed but, barely.  GORLEY I wish I had magic.  CONAN  Me too. Then I’d stab you.  GORLEY giggles and sips his boba tea.  GORLEY  Well then, kinda glad I don’t. CONAN quickly whips around and zaps him with his wand, oblitherating his BOBA TEA.  CONAN  (Mumbles smugly)  Can’t fix that with magic.  CONAN strides away. GORLEY sighs. He is covered in delicious BOBA tea, however the BOBA has spread across the floor. DAVID returns and stands at the doorway.  DAVID  Oh.  {Enter The Multiverse}  “The Secret Life of Sona” SUNNI BLŪ has just purchased a house nestled quaintly in the vacinity of former late night host CONAN O’BRIEN, and is alarmed that he is huge, has bright red hair, and can frequently enough be seen JOGGING that it IRKS her.  SUNNI BLŪ  YO, WHAT.  AGH.  [LATER]  UGH. [AGAIN]  UFGH.  —!!  MORGAN. [HANNAH EINBEINDER] MORGAN What. What.  SUNNI BLU What is this.  MORGAN What is what? SUNNI BLU What’s this.  MORGAN What are you pointing at.  [CONAN O’BRIEN JOGGING, PANTING]   SUNNI BLU How can you not see that?!  MORGAN See what! What am I looking at?!  [she points out the window at CONAN jogging by.] MORGAN …that man? SUNNI BLU Is that a “man"? MORGAN Um… yeah? I…yeah, I think that’s Conan O’ Brien, actually. SUNNI BLU Ah. You know him.  MORGAN No? SUNNI BLU (gesturing to red-headedness) He’s your kind.  MORGAN Uhh—-  [she shakes her head, then looks back toward the window]  MORGAN CONT’D Oh, you mean redheaded.  SUNNI BLU That’s…exactly what I meant.  MORGAN I thought you meant white.  SUNNI BLU You are white.  MORGAN Yeah but— SUNNI BLU [a blank stare]  MORGAN CONT’D Nevermind.  SUNNI BLU So you know him.  MORGAN Uhh—I mean, I know of him–yeah– SUNNI BLU He’s your uncle or something.  MORGAN –???  SUNNI BLU I see the resemblance.  MORGAN 👀 [SUNNI grabs a bottle of vodka from the cabinet; MORGAN looks at the clock. It is predictably 7:48 AM.] SUNNI BLU Tell him stop trespassing.  MORGAN What? He’s not trespassing, he’s on the sidewalk.  SUNNI BLU Stretching 8 feet in any direction is considered trespassing— That includes vertically.  MORGAN What! No it doesn't! No it’s not!   SUNNI BLU That’s California law, that’s what they’re designating it. I have friends in the Senate, you know. MORGAN Are you serious? SUNNI BLU Never mind, I’ll tell him. I need the paper anyway.  SUNNI heads towards the door.  MORGAN Since when do you read the— Sunni, wait—  Since when do you read the paper?!  SUNNI BLU I don’t I just enjoy throwing it.  MORGAN  No, don’t—  [SUNNI has already catapulted a dummy loaded LA Times through the air at astonishingly high speed— although it’s just a rolled newspaper, CONAN happens to be running at a remarkably high speed with his extended gate on a STEEP DOWNHILL GRADE;  The trajectory of the impact from the newspaper hitting him in the face, quite squarely between the eyes forces him to loose hit footing completely, propel forward, and ROLL down the remainder of the street, nearly flipping over entirely into a summersault cartwheel of sorts, rolling uncontrollably over the pristine asphalt.  CONAN OOF.  SUNNI BLŪ  (Nonchalantly shrugging)  {ENTER THE MULTIVERSE} C’cxell Soleïl Author, Poet, Producer & Creator  Musician EXCERPT:  THE CHRONICLES OF WTF, Season 1, Episode 2 titled ‘3 Man War’ CONAN (V.O.) CONAN O’BRIEN is an IMMORTAL CITIZEN, tasked with the arduous duties of landscaping the parallels and paradoxes in TIME. Every day I live a little longer… In a vintage mirror, He examines the heavy bags under his eyes, his pale, white skin, cakes with freckles and soon, with makeup— the picturesque Californian day shines ever brightly, even golden under the plumes of perfect white clouds floating, or even dancing effortlessly across the clear blue sky— though there’s something looming— always looming— over him personally. Director’s note; It might be worth it to find a full length mirror that Conan is actually just a little taller than, so that he has to slouch to look into it. It should be actual vintage, the type that swivels and is perhaps ovular, and should be painted a pale yellow. JAMES V.O. This is my room. INT. 30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA. STUDIO 6B. DAY A LARGE, enthusiastic crowd—the AUDIENCE lifts to their feet, and cheers, applauding— the HOST takes his mark on what appears to be a GOLDEN FOUR LEAF CLOVER. JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) These are my toys. The whimsy of GAMES being played flash by in the foreground; a troupe of DANCERS take the the stage— the AUDIENCE cheers and laughs. JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) My name is James… Suddenly, the studio lights turn OFF; JAMES V.O. (CONT’D) –But people forget that. A faint echo of STEVE HIGGINS announces the HOST as “Jimmy Fallon!”; the applause and laughter fades out with the clamp of the lights. …Now full black and white, the stage is empty, the seats, a striking red, now monochromatic and abandoned. The studio is empty. The room is silent. But JAMES mind is rushed with thoughts. INT, BACKSTAGE, DRESSING ROOM JAMES (JIMMY FALLON) begins to take his TIE off in the mirror, then changes his mind— he tightens it instead, still looking at the mirror into his own dark eyes. Then, a voice approaches from behind him, standing in the doorway. CC He ties his own tie! He turns around and pivots on a dime, straightening his back. CC is a woman in her mid thirties, but presents herself much more maturely. CC (CONT’D) Surprised to see me? JAMES I do a lot of things myself, actually. CC No arguments there. An unspoken tension, perhaps, deep resentment or disdain for one another sits heavily in the small space between them. A long pause; CC seems almost blank under the darkness of her SUNGLASSES, however wreaking dominance— this almost seems to shrink the long and tall host into the uncertainty of a small child. Still, he holds his ground. JAMES Why are you doing this? CC —are you afraid? JAMES I was always afraid. Now I’m petrified. CC feigns a small smile, if not a smirk of all expressions chosen for the worst of moments. CC Gorgeous. I’ll be seeing you. Without even such a turning to walk away the woman seems to have vanished, but still the HOST calls down the hallway as if phone after her. JAMES It’s a wonder you’ll be seeing anything under those sunglasses! CC’s voice from the opposite side of the hallway, if not seemingly somewhat above him answers to call back. CC Call your friends. JAMES is disgruntled, and now the woman, vanished, if not having left a heavy air of some sort of impending call to action. He sighs, and a dog approaches from behind him as he stands in the doorway— from inside the dressing room, but also apparently out of nowhere. JAMES Bongo. He leans down to pet the seemingly familiar beast. JAMES (CONT’D) What are you doing out of your coffin? Then, an unknown voice that seems to come itself in ghostly shackles with the rumblings of time in the midsts of the now silent room, the buzzing florexent lights buzzing above with only just a glimmer of light, but just the slightest comfort of mystery. VOICE (unseen) It’s a ghost dog— nothing says he ought to be confined to a wooden box. Now JAMES seems worried, the dog unbothered— he straightens out from hunching over the happy creature and squares himself to face the inside of the room. A luminescent and mystifying creature stands before him, st

  3. Oct 3

    Lost Cause: {AETHER.}

    INT. VOID / LIMINAL SPACE - NIGHTCHAOSHey, Sis.CCNow that’s strange.CHAOSGet this: I’m you.CCWell, that’s stupid.CHAOSTo you.FINIYou’re a similar, aren’t you?REDNo, I’m a familiar.FINIClose enough.CHAOSIt’s not enough. It’s not the same. Not even close.FINITorture. Who are you?CHAOSI’m not distinctly anything.FINIWhy am I Jimmy Kimmel?CHAOSWho knows!FINIGreat, now the president hates me twice.CHAOSDon’t be so sure.FINIIt’s just a friendly game of—CHAOSOh, there’s my ogre.FINIYou have an ogre?!CHAOSI have everything.FINII see that.CHAOSThat’s great, now wake up.INT. GREEN ROOM / DREAMSPACE - CONTINUOUSJIMMY KIMMEL bolts upright, gasping as he wakes from a dream of golfing with Donald Trump.KIMMELAre we friends?!A beat.VOICE (O.S.)Possibly!CCYo. Lorne, you gotta stop doing this.VOICE (O.S.)Doing what?KIMMELIs he younger?!A boyish, youthful LORNE MICHAELS sits pleasant and completely calm, casually eating popped corn as he speaks with an almost maniacal chill—chill, as in too calm, but also sort of electric.KIMMEL (CONT'D)Uh... Dude.LORNE MICHAELSUgh.KIMMELYou’re horrible. You’re horrible. How did you learn to do this?!LORNE MICHAELSWhen did you develop that habit?KIMMELWhen did you?LORNE MICHAELSYou’re right.{Enter The Multiverse}"The Timekeeper"VOICE (O.S.)Open your eyes.KIMMELOh no. Not you again.VOICE (O.S.)Me. Again.KIMMELYo! F**k you!VOICE (O.S.)You’re a DJ.KIMMELNO!VOICE (O.S.)THE END.KIMMELTHE END.SKRILLEX (V.O.)THE END—AGAIN.KIMMELAGAIN?! THIS IS YOUR F—[The Festival Project ™]AULTYo, why do I do this?VOICE (O.S.)You’re fasting again.AULTI’m not fasting. I’m starving to death.VOICE (O.S.)MY FAULT?! THIS IS YOUR F—AULTYou f****d up.VOICE (O.S.)Well. I did.AULTThis is your fault, you know.👀L E G E N D SI C O N ST I T A N S  VS.  O L Y M P I A N SROUND IIICCYou know I’ve been writing this series for seven years.VOICE (O.S.)Yeah, and look where it got you.CCIt got me—🏙️ 🌃 🌆✈️ ✈️ ✈️CC (CONT'D)Oh. Huh.VOICE (O.S.)Yeah, that’s right. "Oh."CCYo, that’s strange.The color of Lorne was distorted;I noted the Martian below him;I’m older but all out of order,My honor aborted award shows,Coveted,Conan was lo and behold him,All over the asphalt,Sat on a fault line,Fell into hard times, a giantMulti-conglomerate global,Holding awards up,Shout out to also important,Impostor for no one,And all of a buck,Give the poster to Ariana!ARIANA GRANDEAhem.CCYeah, thanks sis.ARIANA GRANDEYou’re welcome.CCI’m... licensed to murder.ARIANA GRANDEYou are.CCSo—ARIANA GRANDEGo ahead.CCI’m all out of purpose,Purportedly,Semi-unconscious,An honest reflection subconscious;Get too toxic,And washing my knocks in the fraudI uncovered, corruptionQuite abruptly,And I erupted.Free Tibet,Highlight tribe.ARIANA GRANDEHow’s he doing?CCOh, him?She nods.CC (CONT'D)That guy died.Everyone I like is dead;Running numbers in my head.How can I get back to Los AngelesWith a bagIf I’m just an actressWithout removing my pantsOr just dancing,Being ratchet?Shout out to Natalie,I cannot handle that,I am a nun;But believe everything under theSun is justOne.A conglomerate:Almost forgot that I bought NBC,Universal,And Oxygen.She takes a deep, ragged gasp of breath.CC (CONT'D)Everyone I like is dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.Amen.All of my life I’ve been dead.Dead.Dead.Dead.Amen.I think it’s all in my head;All of my life I dependOn paying off debt.Take a lesson from stressing onWomen and men.Not a friend in the world.God.God.ARIANA GRANDEOh, I respect that.CCI started over again—God.God.No, Conan!I think I’m seeing in red.Lessons.More lessons? F**K.I had so many depressions,It turned into text,And then to a check.Lessons.More lessons? F**K.Amen.I called him a friend,But never again,Fred.Don’t marry your torturer;Get a divorce and thenPass 'em the torch, you know.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.Bullets.INT. PRODUCTION OFFICE - CONTINUOUSWRITER 2What the f**k, that’s the end?!WRITER 1I guess.WRITER 2Oh my—[W T F]The Chronicles of WTF.INT. KIMMEL'S DRESSING ROOM - NIGHTMOLLY MCNEARNEY walks in, holding a production binder. JIMMY KIMMEL quickly tries to slide an ancient glowing relic under a stack of cue cards.MOLLYWhat are you doing?KIMMELNothing!MOLLYLet me see.KIMMEL👀MOLLYWhat is this?KIMMELIt’s magic.MOLLY(gasps)Magic?!KIMMELJust a little.MOLLYLet me see.KIMMELGimme—wait.MOLLYLet me see!KIMMELFine.MUSIC CUE: "HATE THAT I MADE YOU LOVE ME" - ARIANA GRANDEThe sub-bass drops as strings swell into the track, launching a hyper-kinetic visual MONTAGE:-- EXT. ANCIENT CANYON - SUNNI BLU fastens tactical utility harnesses over camouflage gear, adjusting a sidearm holster while staring intently toward a violet horizon.-- INT. CELESTIAL ARMORY - ARIANA GRANDE methodically straps on sleek, gilded pauldrons, running her fingers along the edge of a crystalline broadsword that hums with raw energy.-- EXT. COSMIC VOID - An ancient celestial tree burns across dimensions, glowing embers drifting into the skylines of terrestrial metropolises below.-- INT. DIMLY LIT 30 ROCK CORRIDOR - A familiar silhouette in a tailored suit and tie stands with his back turned, adjusting his cuffs with an unnerving, deliberate slowness. The posture mirrors Jimmy Fallon's slight frame, yet his reflection in the dark glass door fails to move with him—remaining rigid, watching the hall with faint, unnatural eyes before snapping into an easy, boyish grin that never reaches the shadows behind him.-- INT. MONITOR ROOM - The two intergalactic AGENTS rack slides on sub-atomic blasters, locking biometric visors over their eyes as surveillance feeds cycle rapidly between battle zones.-- EXT. ISLES OF YUM - A GIANT BIRD  EXTENDWS OVER PRINCESS SHAMALAMA DING DONG And DRAMALAMA DING-DANG (ADAM SANDLER) extends broad feathered wings atop the ramparts, notching a barbed arrow to her bow as the sky fractures into thunderous emerald light.-- EXT. DESERT SUMMIT - REINCARNATED SILHOUETTES take their positions along the ridgeline, unholstering heavy ballistic rifles against a mountain consumed by celestial flames.-- INT. LAB CHAMBER - The green-lit relic inside the containment gate throbs in exact time with the track's driving beat, cutting on the final snare.FADE TO BLACK.

  4. Oct 3

    Lost Cause: Terminally Celibate. | Stand-Up Comedy Special

    INT. SHADOWED CHAMBER - NIGHTTwo blue eyes peek out of the darkness into the pale flicker of candlelight.SETH MEYERSHey.FIGURE (O.S.)Don’t come any closer, Seth Meyers, I’ll shoot you.Suddenly, a silver pistol emerges from the shadows, pointed directly between those two same very blue eyes.SETH MEYERSI don’t doubt that.FIGUREYou shouldn’t.SETH MEYERSAll right, well...FIGUREWell...SETH MEYERSI—brought popped corn, er... all right, my—kernels, rather.FIGURE...For what purpose?SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Don’t know. Kind of expecting... Lorne to show up.Seth steps forward into a pillar of downlight.FIGUREAgain, for what purpose?SETH MEYERSI feel like this is highly conversational for someone pointing a gun at me.FIGUREEveryone’s entitled to have an opinion.SETH MEYERSYou’re wittier when you’re contemplating homicide.FIGUREI’m not contemplating, I’m procrastinating.SETH MEYERSNot contemplating, procrastinating. Ah—so—dual purpose.FIGUREThat’s your wit shining through there.SETH MEYERSI’m sure it’s only reflecting in the mirror image of that pistol.FIGUREThree coats of polish.SETH MEYERSYou must have quite the iron grip.FIGUREHow about it.SETH MEYERSHow about...SETH MEYERS steps forward in tandem with the subtle CLICK of the pistol being gently cocked, barrel leveled at his brow. He slowly raises his hands above his head in surrender, then swiftly uses his right hand to dislodge a yellow number two pencil from behind his ear.He raises the pencil, wielding it like a wand before tapping the clear plastic bag of popped corn kernels in his left hand. Tap. Tap. He swirls the pencil in an arc around the bag.The bag instantly turns from popped corn into clear water containing one solitary, swimming GOLDFISH.Seth gestures outward with an open palm: voilà.FIGURE...Not bad.SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Mm.A sharp GUNSHOT rings out.Seth ducks, desperately gripping the bag as the goldfish swims unbothered. A high-caliber slug ricochets off an overhead crystal chandelier and shatters a wall mirror into thousands of prismatic shards. In reflexive retaliation, a silver bullet discharges from the silver pistol. It narrowly misses Seth, ripping straight through the clear plastic bag.SETH MEYERS (CONT'D)OH, F**K!The bag ruptures. Water and the GOLDFISH splash onto the parquet floor. The goldfish thrashes next to Seth, who contorts between shielding his skull and reaching out to save the fish. More bullets tear through the air. Seth executes a panicked lateral roll as the fish flails across the wood.FIGUREBastard.TWO SHADOWY NINJAS breach the perimeter through high windows.SETH MEYERSWhy?!FIGUREWhy not?Suddenly, ARMORED SAMURAI kick down the rear doors, drawing katanas!SETH MEYERSWait, ninjas or samurai?!FIGURE¿Por qué no los dos?The architectural dimensions of the room instantly fracture as the space erupts into a multi-epochal, cross-dimensional melee; cybernetic samurai clash swords with ancient shinobi; Victorian-era pirates brandish cutlasses against trench-coat-wearing 1930s mobsters firing tommy guns. Laser beams from futuristic space-cops intersect with mystical fireballs deployed by hovering medieval dragons, as Wild West cowboys on horseback materialize from localized temporal rifts, dual-wielding revolvers beside trident-toting mermaids who surge forward on crests of tidal anomalies.Amidst this cataclysmic tapestry of historical and mythological warfare, Seth Meyers is thrust into absolute, frantic desperation. He flails prone across the architecture, executing erratic lateral rolls and frantic somersaults to evade supersonic projectiles, whistling crossbow bolts, and stray cannonballs that pulverize the surrounding masonry. A sweeping claymore decapitates an adjacent combatant, passing a mere millimeter above Seth’s ducked head; moments later, a rogue shuriken grazes his ankle, leaving a burning laceration. Yet his focus remains tethered to the aquatic captive.He maneuvers across the floorboards like an uncoordinated gymnast, contorting his torso into protective arcs and cupping his palms into a fragile, improvised vessel. The combatants demonstrate a surreal, highly choreographed deference to the central chaos; they execute gravity-defying leaps, stealthy pirouettes, and fluid, rhythmic lunges directly over Seth’s undulating form, weaving their lethal maneuvers through the air with microscopic precision. A stray bowie knife embeds itself deeply into the floorboards, pinning the fabric of Seth's sleeve and narrowly missing his arm, yet through this symphonic display of universal hostility, the goldfish remains miraculously untouched, entirely unstepped upon amidst the stampede of boots, hooves, and flippers.SETH MEYERS (CONT'D)(calling out to nobody)I’m fine!The quick, nimble footwork of the warriors somehow leaves both Seth and the fish alive. However, the goldfish ceases its frantic flailing, opening its mouth in faint, desperate gasps for oxygen.The surviving combatants and bystanders pause, gathering round in a tight circle alongside Seth.The eye of the dying goldfish suddenly sparkles.In a blinding detonation of technicolor and radiant white light, the aquatic creature expands and morphs into—LORNE MICHAELSLorne casually dusts off the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and adjusts his bow tie.SURROUNDING CROWD(collective gasp)LORNE?!LORNE MICHAELSHm.He stands composed at the room's epicenter, completely unfazed—as if he had not just been missing for weeks, as if he had not spent the last four minutes as a goldfish, and as if he had not originated as a concession bag of gourmet popped corn kernels.The combatants and bystanders stare blankly into the void of astonishment.JIMMY FALLON bursts through the double doors, breathing heavily.JIMMY FALLONOh good. It worked!Silence falls. The entire room turns, staring dumbfounded into various imaginary multidimensional fourth walls.LORNE MICHAELSWell, come on. We have a show to do.Lorne turns on his heel and strides toward the corridor with reserved, unhurried dignity, casually stepping over the carnage of fallen mercenaries.MORGAN FREEMAN (V.O.)...He isn’t wrong. It is, after all, Saturday Night.

  5. Oct 3

    Ubiquity.

    EXT. NIGHTCLUB / ALLEYWAY - NIGHTA booming beat drops. SUNNI BLU (played by TRACY MORGAN) holds the mic mid-cypher outside the back entrance.SUNNI BLUOther bitches stay in the chat,But me, I’m different.This is the world I been living in:I’m in the club right now,Camouflage pants and Illuminati fitted.Ain’t no wigs getting snatched,We in the back right now.It’s a movie,In the second act right now.I ain’t gotta think back right now,Matter of fact right now,Roll a fattie right now,Get smacked right now, if you want, butAin’t no wigs getting snatched right now.Other bitches stay in the chat,But me, I’m different.Matter of fact;I just wrote a rap right now.This is the world I been living in.OK;Three times,Three times:Mitch McConnell throwing up the peace sign.Now I got three times on me,Got a one-track diamond mind though,Shawty outside though,Vibes all the time though—NATALIE NUNNBlu, shut up.SUNNI BLUWhat?I don’t f**k n***as,I am just a f**k n***a.I been on some f**k shit,Prolly roll a blunt shit,I be on some c**t shit,That is no assumption.Peepin' on corruptionOn a brunch and luncheon.Y’all been in the lunchroom,I been eating munch, dude.What?NATALIE NUNNBlu, shut up!ANDY SAMBERG (AS LORNE MICHAELS)(deadpan cadence)Anything can happen at brunch!Doooo!SUNNI BLUMore camouflage,Got a n***a in a smock;More camouflage,Star Trek, call me Spock.More camouflage,Park the car, I spin the block.Turn the cameras off,Bend it over,Gonna f**k.I be fly like a bird,I flock 'em.N***a, I’m awesome.Talk show,Like I’m Emmy Rossum.Plot twist,Sike, nah,I got options.I just went shopping,’Bout to take a bunch of rocks to the Plaza’Cause I’m on my God shit.I ain’t no house,I’m progressive experiment.I just bought a house in Malibu,Oh.I’m ’bout to buy me a BarbieAnd find me a hobby,End up in the lobby just flaunting.Uh,Every house I go is haunted.I’m ghost,Probably French 'cause I’m toasted, yeah.French, I’m Montana,Not Hannah,But been on my Peloton,Yeah.That is a deep cut.I do some deep throat,That’s not a secret.I am a seeker,AvidReader.I amLeaderOf the free world.Once you see me,You won’t need her.Ahahahaha!I got chin-checked,I am Natalie Nunn.Write me a checkAnd then go for a run.Smoke me a blunt,Bake me a bundtCake.She mad at me 'cause her buttFake.I got up midnight onMon-Day,I’mOnOne.You mad,Huh?I’m Kanye!Let me be Frank Ocean,I got blonder.Go on a walk to the Whole Foods,Picking up some water.I been on Wall Street,You cannot stop me.I own a Walmart;I run the country.President Trump wanna f**k me’Cause I got junk in the trunkee,And money in the trust, eh?Chunky-Monkey, Monkey Bread: EE!See me on hump day;Since you want to,Humpty-Dumpty.I been on some f**k shit,Call me Sukihana.You know what I want:PeanutButter.Ahaha!I am a Lost Cause,Licking on your bal-wals.Hakuna MatataLike I am a warthog.I don’t need a bottle,But I want a bag though.I been on some gay shit,But I’m not a f*g though.I been on some fan shit,But I got fans though.I been on some bad shit,Call me Michael Jackson.Yessir, an a*****e,Present, not a past though.I been on SNAP,Crackle-pop,Head of the household.NATALIE NUNN...I am... so confused.MYSTIC (V.O.)(ethereal incantation)You don’t belong,Just come and go...Although we share a common goal.SUNNI BLU pulls out a glossy photograph of JIMMY KIMMEL and thrusts it directly before Natalie.SUNNI BLUHave you seen this man?!NATALIE NUNN doesn’t respond, only squinting in a sort of angry, drunken confusion—looking immaculate, nonetheless.SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)That’s fine. What about this one?SUNNI BLU whips out a headshot of JAY LENO. NATALIE squints again, registering a flash of visceral recognition.SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)Of course you have. That’s your fatha.SUNNI BLU tosses both photos to the pavement.SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)You can keep that.NATALIE NUNN is reality television’s most notorious and high-profile SHAPESHIFTER, whose current extraterrestrial identity is unknown; this may be a deep-cover agent, or perhaps even a high-ranking intergalactic government official using NATALIE as its current host.Some extraterrestrials are trademarked by their extremely high tolerance for alcohol consumption and hybrid human appearance.SUNNI BLU (TRACY MORGAN) has been in hot pursuit of a highly volatile shapeshifting aviary, last known to have been seen with the entity CHAOS, who often conforms as the high-profile television personality JIMMY KIMMEL, whose actual true identity remains unknown.These entities are notorious for multiversal structure decomposure and material construction through the consumption and distribution of "intoxicant substances"—drugs and spirits which alter the perception of the human body and mind, allowing the multi-billion-century-long war to carry on in multilateral intergalactic directions across charted and uncharted territories of the cosmic grid.SUNNI BLU (CONT'D)You’re right. I don’t fit in.NATALIE NUNNYou’re lost!SUNNI BLUWhat?NATALIE NUNNYou’re lost, right?SUNNI BLUListen, Nat, I know your script is not normally printed on paper and shit, but—NATALIE NUNNIt still isn’t. I just get the digital—SUNNI BLUThat’s enough lessons.NATALIE NUNNHuh? What?SUNNI BLUYou’re lost, right?Suddenly, NATALIE seems genuinely confused.SUNNI BLU hurries off into the night, somewhat lifted, and grimaces, chuckling under her breath an evil and sort of maniacal laugh.INT. SURVEILLANCE QUARTERS - CONTINUOUSTWO INTERGALACTIC AGENTS—high-ranking alien operatives embedded on Earth, disguised in standard casual attire—sit in front of a flat-screen monitor, surveillance feeds running alongside an intercepted terrestrial television broadcast of "Enter The Multiverse."AGENT 1What just happened?AGENT 2I think they just shifted.AGENT 1No, they switched.AGENT 2What? I don’t get this.AGENT 1They switched it.AGENT 2With WHAT? I don’t GET this!{Enter The Multiverse}ON SCREEN:BLU THA GURU takes over the mic, continuing the erratic frequency discharge and stumbling across the club perimeter with hyper-accelerated cadence.BLU THA GURUWoah,Baddie is famous,Catch me outside though,I amDRUNK.Bitch, it’s Monday morning,Why the f**k you in the club?’Bout to get a bagAnd maybe open up a pub.I be feeling good,Just having coffee in my cup.I don’t pay the tab,I be chilling in the tub.I got lots of luck,Eh,I get lots of love,Ey,Twisting up my locs,Ey.I be callingCopsOn the ops,Shut that dog up!If I even show up at the place,Then I got product!I keep a code of conduct,Do it for the bag,But you won’t see me with a product.I ain’t tryna f**k with n***as,If I need a confirm,I’m not Natalie for now, but cross 'cause I’m a nun-nun.AGENT 1LOL, that’s enough.AGENT 2I agree.BLU THA GURUThis ain’t no fun no more,I lost too much weight so I can’t run no more.Ain’t got a number though,I’m on the honor roll.I might rent a yachtAnd end up in the harbor though.BITCH, I WANT SOME PIZZA!’Bout to call the plug,It’s Monday morning,Finna re-up.Bitch, I did a relay,I got married with a prenup.Call that n***a Charlie Brown’Cause he be on some peanuts.I can’t chase a m**********r,Bitch, I need somePENIS.Bring them in a CadillacAnd send them in aPRIUS.They be on some slavery,But I been trynaFREE US.I been on theKETO,Keep them bagels in theFREEZER.Bitch, it’s Monday morning,What you doing in the club?BACK TO THE MONITOR ROOM:The two AGENTS track the sub-vocal audio waves, cross-referencing biometric signatures against cosmic mainframe records.AGENT 1You’re right. That’s not Ms. Nunn.AGENT 2They switched it.AGENT 1Correct.AGENT 2And by "they," you mean—?AGENT 1He.AGENT 2So it is him.AGENT 1Facts.AGENT 2What do you think he wants?AGENT 1He’s trying to find the other Tritarians.AGENT 2How do you know that?AGENT 1...I recently found out... I may be Tritarian.AGENT 2—So you have a connection?AGENT 1Negative. I’ve been taking some side work decrypting languages for the fourth chapter of the Pritherion Hyphex.AGENT 2So you have access to Tritarian knowledge vaults by right of passage. Interesting genetics.AGENT 1Maybe.AGENT 2Well, I stand corrected. Maybe you aren’t hopeless after all.AGENT 1No, I’m hopeless. Useless, maybe not.AGENT 2Don’t get ahead of yourself.AGENT 1—I’m not.A beat.AGENT 1 (CONT'D)Or—I won’t.[The Festival Project ™]MUSIC CUE: "Lady Madonna" (The Beatles - Love Version) plays as the scene transitions: MONTAGE.INT. STUDIO 8H - SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE - NIGHTJIMMY FALLON pays a visit to the SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE set, taking in the environment with candor and nostalgia.Suddenly, an OBJECT arcs across Studio 8H and hits Jimmy Fallon square in the face.KAM PATTERSON (O.S.)Ten points!ASHLEY PADILLAWhat IS that?!JEREMY CULHANE(nervous laughter)Ahahahahah!The object lands on the floor. UPON CLOSER INSPECTION, it appears to be a freshly severed HUMAN HEART.JANE WICKLINEUm. I think it’s—ASHLEY PADILLADon’t touch that.JEREMY CULHANEWe’re not going to tell anybody about this.JANE WICKLINE...Is it still beating?!JEREMY CULHANEShh. Shut up.KAM PATTERSONWhat are you doing with it?JEREMY CULHANEWith what?A beat.KAM PATTERSON(blank-faced)...With what?JANE WICKLINE👀DJ NOTES:{ADHD DISTRACTION IMMINENT}Internet friends > Star Wars > Animals, Martin Garrix...but I think I’ve already done that exact mix already.MEANWHILEINT. JEREMY'S DRESSING ROOM / PARNASSUS LAB - NIGHTPROFESSOR PARNASSUS (played by JEREMY CULHANE) stands maniacally over THE HEART in his makeshift alchemical lab, as it beats with a GLOWING GREEN AURA from its assembled GATE.He leans in closer, drooling at the prospect of his most recent capture; he not only believes it to be, but knows it is indeed the famed HEART OF ION OF ITHIOS lore; a folk legend, but now his own, residing in his lab.His SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE castmate SAIDA enters, after a couple of knocks at the door. Suddenly the lighting shifts, as he is taken off guard.SAIDAUm.JEREMY CULHANEHey.(clears th

  6. Oct 3

    The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I EP. 11 - "I'm Telling!" - Stand-Up Comedy

    EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREET - NIGHTVOICE 1 (O.S.)Oh shit, this n***a’s walkin’ on taxis! Somebody get ‘em.VOICE 2 (O.S.)...but they’re ’90s taxis... They might even be older.VOICE 1 (O.S.)Ohhhhhhh shit. New promos. Whaaaaaat’s this?!VOICE 2 (O.S.)Damn, Jake from State Farm—you really went and f****d up this time.VOICE 1 (O.S.)Don’t I know it.BLŪ (V.O.)I need a new tourmaline.CC (V.O.)As if the one I’m wearing around my neck isn’t enough?BLŪ (V.O.)It’s not.He’s got...20 numbers in his phone book,20 numbers on speed dial,20 numbers in his pocket, look,20 more, if you play your cards right.He’s going hog wild,All in.Hot wife and a hot rod,Long pole with a Jolly Roger on it,Not a long story.She’s a hot mess,He’s a coldmotherfucker,And she’s all dressed,waiting by the door for an Acura.Flawless,’Cause that’s what he ordered;Someone saw it coming,Counting the losses—Setting off alarms,And calling the stockbroker on him.Just a warning for the heartless:You ought to get warmer somewhereBy the closure of this story.Open the portal.INT. BROADCAST FACILITY / PORTAL CHAMBER - CONTINUOUSJIMMY KIMMELGET IN, STEPHEN.STEPHEN COLBERTNO.JIMMY KIMMELGET—IN—THE PORTAL.STEPHEN COLBERTNO. I’M NOT GOING.JOHN OLIVER is smoking a cigar in the corner, not helping at all as the other hosts, SETH MEYERS, JIMMY KIMMEL, and JIMMY FALLON fight fellow former host STEPHEN COLBERT as he claws himself out of the portal; as much manpower as it takes to keep him in, it seems to take a lot more getting out.JOHN OLIVEROh, you’re going, all right...He puts out his cigar in a silver ashtray, then walks over to the LAUNCHPAD and opens up the HATCH, before pressing down intently on a RED BUTTON, which, in a plume of GREEN LIGHT, instantly activates the portal, sucking STEPHEN COLBERT clean in, feet first and arms reeling as he screams—STEPHEN COLBERTNOOOOOOOOOOO—GODDAMMIT!!!KIMMEL and SETH MEYERS jump back to save themselves from the strong force of the open portal; however, JIMMY FALLON—who was in charge of the legs—has been unforgivingly warped into the portal behind STEPHEN, exclaiming nothing at all, because his dialogue costs too much.JIMMY KIMMELOh, shit.JOHN OLIVER"Oh shit," indeed.JIMMY KIMMELWell, that wasn’t the plan.SETH MEYERS...I wouldn’t worry about it.JIMMY KIMMELI’m not worried, per se. I just—JIMMY FALLON walks in normally through the door.JOHN OLIVEROkay?JIMMY FALLONWhat’d I miss?JOHN OLIVERNothing, apparently.SETH MEYERS👀 I told you.JIMMY KIMMELSo apparently, you’re the only one who figured out how to get out of one of these things?SETH MEYERS👀 I told you.JIMMY FALLONOh, what, this?He deactivates the portal using an off-switch located at the bottom of the portal. It suddenly shuts off. They stare at him in disbelief.JIMMY FALLON (CONT'D)You gotta turn it off when you’re finished; it’s burning a lot of electricity.JIMMY KIMMEL(squinty)...Yeah, okay.JOHN OLIVERI've had exactly enough.JIMMY KIMMELYeah, I’m going to bed. I’m on West Coast time.JOHN OLIVERDoesn’t that make it early, for you, then?JIMMY KIMMELWhatever.SETH MEYERS, JOHN OLIVER, and JIMMY KIMMEL all head toward the door, leaving FALLON standing alone at the portal awkwardly.JOHN OLIVERStandard NBC ethos, I’m betting.JIMMY KIMMELI bet nothing.SETH MEYERS👀 I told you!{Enter The Multiverse}

  7. Oct 3

    03. The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I Ep 3- {"The Killing Bees"}

    EXT. PRIMEVAL FOREST - DAYSHIEKWhat has you up against a wall?FINIMy brother.SHIEKWhat’s wrong?FINIHe’s going to kill me; I can feel it.CHAOS and INFINITY are immortal souls of creation, trapped in a centuries-long game of seek-and-find—or, more accurately, seek-and-destroy, as the strategic and tactical INFINITY is usually bested by her younger brother CHAOS by his tactile use of brute force, weaponry, and merciless destruction.INFINITY, though equipped with an adapting presence, plays this game set in principles of fact, respecting the art of war and playing it rather fairly—Perhaps this is why she keeps losing to her much younger, but physically adaptive younger brother—as these ranges within time upon which they age almost certainly always place him as technically appearing, for humanoid purposes, older, bigger, and stronger—however, not more powerful.CHAOS has learned the karmic output of his own destruction, usually looming over him in a cosmic outward effect which summits more like a rippling throughout time served as consequences, as he awaits his sister’s imminent recycle and age against his own reincarnation and death epochs.SHIEKThere’s a sense that he might be creeping along, I gather, but I don’t think “today” is nearly accurate enough to assume your holding position against that poor creature as a requisite defense.By this "poor creature," she means the tree which FINI is leaning on to her wits' end; in this world and time, planetary biologics such as trees, plants, and animals are acknowledged also as wholly formed consciousness in physical manifestations as an artistic creative concept for the mastery of planets throughout time in the cosmic realm, and manipulation of energy throughout such as creatures, animals, people, and the very planets upon which they exist.In fact, it was in the beginning of these realms and primordial worlds within the voids that INFINITY—or FINI—had adapted this concept of creation by merging these alchemic thoughts with outer forces, creating complex multi-structures and full galaxy concepts, rather than just concentrating one’s entire own energy into a singular planet, or as humans would call it, monotheistic concepts. That is, at once, INFINITY had configured with respect to her outwardly expanding consciousness, rapid creation of planetary constructs as powerful multidimensional galactic art projects.This, in our own world and time, explains our own belief systems, spanning many worlds and many gods.SHIEK (CONT'D)How do you expect to keep all of them up there like that?FINIEventually, they’ll stay in place on their own.SHIEKHow do you figure that?!FINIJust wait for it.Gravity and its placement within the void remains at large an experimental and theoretical concept of compression in pure consciousness.[The Festival Project ™]FINI (CONT'D)No, I know the feeling when it’s coming.SHIEKYour brother?FININo. The feeling of death and impending doom, but with him as the agent of this, most likely.SHIEKYou are funny.FINII’m not joking.SHIEKBut it’s funny.FINII’m making you aware, there’s no mistaking it...SHIEKSpare me the theatrics.FINII’m not exaggerating—here, take this.SHIEKOkay, but why am I taking this?FINIHe has a harpoon.SHIEKWhat's a harpoon?FINIA weapon.SHIEKWhere did he get it?FINII gave it to him for his birthday. Then, he threw me from a cliff.SHIEKWell, then, why are you so sure he’s coming for you with it in this reincarnation, and on this day precisely?FINIBecause. I’ve been calculating it—and—since he was young, and we made up this game—we’ve always been playing it. At first, I let him win because I’m ancient, I didn’t realize he’d be disfiguring me for the next—Suddenly, there’s a rustling in the distance; a flock of birds bursts into the wind.FINI (CONT'D)—did you hear that?SHIEKI didn’t hear anything over your paranoid over-dramatics... but I can tell you’re really serious. He threw you off a cliff?FINIYeah, he did.SHIEKWhy would he do that?FINIBecause, I’d once contemplated knowing what it feels like to free fall that exact height without any aviary instruments.SHIEKOh, that’s—harsh.FINIArt in the name of the pursuit of knowledge.SHIEKAll is.FINI—and since it was his birthday, I was anticipating it.SHIEKI don’t get it. You think he actually likes doing this?FINIMy brother is increasingly destructive—menial, even. This is just the nature of his—SWUUFPPT!INFINITY is hit from an unseen angle above; a harpoon has been plunged diagonally and directly into her chest.FINI (CONT'D)See. I told you.She’s now pinned to the tree by the harpoon. CHAOS descends from a nearby tree. INFINITY looks down at her fatal wound at the harpoon and admires it for its quality.FINI (CONT'D)That is nice. I like that.SHIEKWhere did you even get something like that?FININow I’m being funny, I’m also dying—you should at the very least be laughing for me.SHIEKIt's not worth it if I’m laughing out of pity, is it?CHAOSStraight through the heart.FINIIt isn’t, you’re right.FINI begins to fade.CHAOSYou are absolutely right; that is a good gift.FINIYou can take my heart out, but there’s no sense in eating it.SHIEKYou would do something like that?CHAOSWell, I won’t go wasting it, but how else am I supposed to know what’s all in there?SHIEKOkay. So I don’t understand your family dynamic.FINIWhatever, just don’t let him take my—CHAOSIs that my canteen?SHIEKUh—I’m—holding it.CHAOSLet me see it.FINIDon’t—However, death is overtaking INFINITY now, and the sky begins to glow and darken.CHAOSYes, it is. Perfect.INFINITY groans and weakens as the life begins to leave her; CHAOS takes a drink from the canteen. He then lifts it to his sister's lips and tilts her head back so that she’s drinking from it, but also struggling to swallow it as death consumes her.CHAOS (CONT'D)It is a good gift. Thanks, sis.INFINITYHappy birthday, you idiot.SHIEKLast wishes, or have you made peace with it?CHAOS...Will you be needing any assistance?INFINITY shakes her head; he gently allows the grip of his two fingers, middle and index, to gently move lower and away to allow her head to fall downward to her chest.FINII have peace.CHAOSI Am.SHIEKSo it’s settled, I’ll be awaiting your next incarnation in the precipice.FINIAmen.At once, she is lifeless; a green storm appears on the horizon and lightning shakes the ground into thunderous tremors; a fire from the lightning erupts on the mountain; CHAOS looks up at the sky and shrugs, before emptying the canteen and placing its straps around his bodice; a true warrior, he is outfitted with the tribal markers of a compounded warlord—for what exact purpose, we remain in the unknown.SHIEKWhy you do this, I don’t know. This is awful.CHAOSWe love this game. This is awesome.SHIEKYou didn’t have to take the canteen.CHAOSActually, I did—it’s bulletproof.SHIEKI don’t know what you mean by that.CHAOS begins looting his sister’s dead body, starting with the pockets, of course, in an attempt at salvaging any money while explaining himself.CHAOS (CONT'D)Bulletproof.SHIEKI don’t know what you’re saying.CHAOS—it ricochets bullets.SHIEKI don’t know what that means.CHAOSOh, right.There are no guns yet here on this planet.CHAOS (CONT'D)...no use in explaining it.SHIEKHow are you desecrating the body?CHAOS pours a circle of mysterious liquid around the base of the tree, before lighting it.CHAOSImmediate.SHIEKShould I worry?CHAOSWhy bother?SHIEKShe’s right, you are an idiot.CHAOS(sarcastically)A profound revelation.He snaps his fingers, presenting a small flame—and just then, with the snap of his fingers, also—Lightning strikes the tree from above, sending him and SHIEK flying backwards as the trunk, elongated and magnificent, erupts into an explosive inferno.SHIEK looks on, still floored in astonishment.SHIEKPoor creature. Didn’t have a chance, did it?CHAOS recovers his harpoon from the burning wreckage; of course, as expected, his late sister’s heart comes out with it, and is, remarkably, also on fire. He has impressed himself, even.CHAOSYou should probably keep watch of that mountain...SHIEKYou’re so destructive.CHAOSShe’ll probably be awaiting you at any minute once you reach the summit.SHIEKAs what?CHAOSHow am I supposed to know?SHIEKYou morph and evolve worlds and spin times and galaxies just between your two thumbs, but you don’t know as which creature your sister is going to be instantaneously reincarnated?CHAOSEven if I did, it would take all the fun out of it.SHIEK swings at him and then sighs.SHIEKAt least give me the canteen.Another explosion; simultaneous from both the mountain top and the tree trunk.CHAOSNo way—I’m gonna need it.SHIEKWhy? It’s empty anyway!Another explosion; fiery branches rain down over him. He ducks and covers, in the full and impartial awareness that this is his sister’s spirit.A beat.CHAOS'Cause my sister knows what a gun is.SHIEKA what?Another explosion; CHAOS takes flight by launching up an unharmed tree, looking back over his shoulder and gripping the canteen.CHAOS...for the bullets.More lightning and explosions; the branch CHAOS hangs from wavers but still remains strong enough that he continues hanging off of it, like a lemur in a Rambo jacket.SHIEK looks up at CHAOS, and then back around at the damage, over her shoulder to the mountain summit, and then back at him—obviously she doesn’t understand this. She gives up, and turns to head away on her journey, still speaking at CHAOS, but really under her breath.SHIEKYou’re destructive.CHAOS has resisted climbing further up the tree and has been gazing at the mountain, but for whatever reason, her mumbled words distract him.CHAOSHey, I heard that.SHIEK doesn't turn around or address him, but instead just throws her arms up, flames burning trails of leaves behind her in her wake.He gazes on at her, somewhat bothered by her own nonchal

  8. 05/02/2025

    YAYAYa.

    Copyright © The Festival Project, Inc. ™ | Copyright The Complex Collective © 2019-2025 ™ All Rights Reserved. -Ū.

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About

After an enormous writing catharsis and extreme strike of inspiration which has lasted for five years, following an eight year writer's block an artist finds herself drowning in the massive amount of largely incomplete and unpublished works she has created; hundreds of thousands of documents, worlds within worlds, catalogues of music, and series of novels--as her inner worlds and outer worlds begin to mesh and collide into a self-fulfilling prophecy of instant manifestation, the worlds and characters of her fictional works taking on lives of their own in the real world. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

Information

  • Creator
    Sunnï Blu Stone
  • Years Active
    2023 - 2026
  • Episodes
    291
  • Rating
    Explicit
  • Copyright
    © Copyright 2026 by Sunnï Blu Stone
  • Show Website
    Me, Myself, and I.