The Lost Cause Comedy Vault Vol. I

[We Come In Peace] Written, Composed C’cxell Soleïl Performed by Blū Tha Gürū I come in peace. I come in peace but, Since they want a war, I might as well obliterate with diplomatic Precision and lyrical assasination This is just a temporary placement, And you cannot stay here: (Chaos) You have been replaced with an alien Inside my brain He’s living rent free but Honestly, that’s A-Okay with me The motherfucker quiet, silent, even… –And we come in peace. I start hypnotic on an infrasonic rim, Then I go tectonic on a more melodic hyperbolic chamber; Lame –do you remember this: I am the chin! You keep on playing games with my head inside my room; I need a broom just to get rid of you– Oops, Floor sweep. Mantras on repeat I be: practice-the-secret What kind of garbage do you eat, kid? You must them crispy bacon red lips Cause you just keep lying through your teeth (Smoked!) But then, I’m kinda sweet, —And seven days a week, I just keep telling you what I think; But silently instead of violently And in a blink, I’ll have a billion trebled You are the weakest link Pass or fail And you fail again I’m gonna have to hold you back, Moby Dick Oh look, a whale again What do you fuckin eat, kid? (A bottom feeder feeding on a bottom feeder) You’re so weak. (And we—we come in peace) Slam bam, thank you ma’am Slam-bam Um— You mad, huh??? I come in peace. Slam bam, thank you ma’am Slam-bam Um— You mad, huh??? You try to tell yourself you’re cool, But it is just an act; who do you think you’re fooling? I wrote the play, so I’m am—let’s just say— Your stage coach Aces, So much time wasted I fuck around and could hang myself with laces, They said— Baseball: Now go pick up the bat You lazy troll and run that dog around the bases That is Savage But only ‘cause they’re savages, I ravage them, they’re average intelligence And fatter than this blunt My waist is snatched and I eat cabbage Breakfast-dinner-lunch I don’t have to walk my cat, but Jump! If you’re feeling froggy Oh wait, you can’t, You fat bitch. Ratchets, dammit! But every time they throw a tantrum, I cash in like Patel, I toy with them, Mattel I’m no snitch, but oh well… Must be a glitch Either the simulation went a bit corrupt Or they were sent from hell; I panic at the disco Cause you tried to ring my bell –Oh hell naw! That’s it, I’m madder than the hatter now You’re fatter than the rats that gather round the trash can, Bad man And even worse manners I need a fucking handler These animals are out of control Around here You must not get it! I’m getting richer Every time you talk your shit, sir Go ahead and draw me another picture, Cause my video was evidence And not a tik tok You must be mental (But I am too) Nice to meet you My name is Blū I’m your friend and neighbor, Or tried to be, but I’m getting rich off your jealousy, so Thank you Slam bam, thank you ma’am Slam-bam Um— You mad, huh??? Slam bam, thank you ma’am Slam-bam Um— You mad, huh??? I need a hard hat I’m under construction So you wanna throw a tantrum like a man? Then go a fuck yourself I’ve had enough of you You’re out of luck, heifer; This ain’t the fuckin projects– How the fuck did you get up here?! So nobody showed you got to operate a door, or what? You’re fucking horrible; I’m ugly, but girl you’re a fuckin slut. And under observation I the doctor have assessed That you’re not only obsessed with me, but also dealing with some heavy arrested development; Emotional immaturity even heavier than your daughter is, And that’s a lot; And to be fair I myself am elephant Remember every alchemist chemical I mixed Just to summon you Cause I made a lot of money off of you already (And another song) You must not get it! I’m getting richer Every time you talk your shit, sir Go ahead and draw me another picture, Cause my video was evidence And not a tik tok You must be mental (But I am too) Nice to meet you My name is Blū I’m your friend and neighbor, Or tried to be, but I’m getting rich off your jealousy, so Thank you Slam bam, thank you ma’am Slam-bam Um— You mad, huh??? You mad, huh??? You mad, huh??? Um… (-Blu.) © The Complex Collective [The Festival Project ™ ]

EXT. NIGHTCLUB / ALLEYWAY - NIGHT A booming beat drops. SUNNI BLU (played by TRACY MORGAN) holds the mic mid-cypher outside the back entrance. SUNNI BLU Other witches 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, but Ain’t no wigs getting snatched right now. Other witches 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 NUNN Blu, shut up. SUNNI BLU What? I don’t unc ninja, I am just a unc witcha. I been on some unc shit, Prolly roll a blunt ish, I be on some Bundt shit, That is no assumption. Peepin' on corruption On a brunch and luncheon. Y’all been in the lunchroom, I been eating munch, dude. What? NATALIE NUNN Blu, shut up! ANDY SAMBERG IMPRESSION OF LORNE MICHAELS (deadpan cadence) Anything can happen at brunch! Doooo! SUNNI BLU More camouflage, Got a mister 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 fuck. I be fly like a bird, I flock 'em. Skrilla, 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 Barbie And 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 glottal, That’s not a secret. I am a seeker, Avid Reader. I am Leader Of the free world. Once you see me, You won’t need her. Ahahahaha! I got chin-checked, I am Natalie Nunn. Write me a check And then go for a run. Smoke me a Brunson, Bake me a bundt Cake. She mad at me 'cause her butt Fake. I got up midnight on Mon- Day, I’m On One. 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 hug 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 luck-wish, Call me Sukihana. You know what I want: Peanut Butter. Ahaha! I am a Lost Cause, Licking on your bal-wals. Hakuna Matata Like I am a warthog. I don’t need a bottle, But I want a bag though. I been on some gay bliss, But I’m not a fag though. I been on some fan ish, But I got fans though. I been on some bad shit, Call me Michael Jackson. Yessir, an asshole, 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 BLU Have 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 NUNN You’re lost! SUNNI BLU What? NATALIE NUNN You’re lost, right? SUNNI BLU Listen, Nat, I know your script is not normally printed on paper and shit, but— NATALIE NUNN It still isn’t. I just get the digital— SUNNI BLU That’s enough lessons. NATALIE NUNN Huh? What? SUNNI BLU You’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 - CONTINUOUS TWO 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 1 What just happened? AGENT 2 I think they just shifted. AGENT 1 No, they switched. AGENT 2 What? I don’t get this. AGENT 1 They switched it. AGENT 2 With WHAT? I don’t GET this! {Enter The Multiverse} ON SCREEN: The entity masquerading as NATALIE NUNN continues its erratic frequency discharge, stumbling across the club perimeter with hyper-accelerated cadence. BLU THA GURU Woah, Baddie is famous, Catch me outside though, I am DRUNK. Bitch, it’s Monday morning, Why the fuck you in the club? ’Bout to get a bag And 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 calling Cops On 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 fuck with n***as, If I need a confirm, I’m not Natalie for now, but cross 'cause I’m a nun-nun. AGENT 1 LOL, that’s enough. AGENT 2 I agree. BLU THA GURU This 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 yacht And 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 motherfucker, Bitch, I need some PENIS. Bring them in a Cadillac And send them in a PRIUS. They be on some slavery, But I been tryna FREE US. I been on the KETO, Keep them bagels in the FREEZER. 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 1 You’re right. That’s not Ms. Nunn. AGENT 2 They switched it. AGENT 1 Correct. AGENT 2 And by "they," you mean—? AGENT 1 He. AGENT 2 So it is him. AGENT 1 Facts. AGENT 2 What do you think he wants? AGENT 1 He’s trying to find the other Tritarians. AGENT 2 How do you know that? AGENT 1 ...I recently found out... I may be Tritarian. AGENT 2 —So you have a connection? AGENT 1 Negative. I’ve been taking some side work decrypting languages for the fourth chapter of the Pritherion Hyphex. AGENT 2 So you have access to Tritarian knowledge vaults by right of passage. Interesting genetics. AGENT 1 Maybe. AGENT 2 Well, I stand corrected. Maybe you aren’t hopeless after all. AGENT 1 No, I’m hopeless. Useless, maybe not. AGENT 2 Don’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 - NIGHT JIMMY 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 PADILLA What 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 WICKLINE Um. I think it’s— ASHLEY PADILLA Don’t touch that. JEREMY CULHANE We’re not going to tell anybody about this. JANE WICKLINE ...Is it still beating?! JEREMY CULHANE Shh. Shut up. KAM PATTERSON What are you doing with it? JEREMY CULHANE With what? [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. MEANWHILE INT. JEREMY'S DRESSING ROOM / PARNASSUS LAB PROFESSOR 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. SAIDA Um. JEREMY CULHANE Hey. (clears throat) Ahem. [I mean] Oh, hiiiii. SAIDA Yeah. JEREMY CULHANE Ahem. Yeah. SAIDA So you have an evil lab in your dressing room? JEREMY CULHANE (shrugs) It came like this. SAIDA OK. Mine has antlers on the wall; I’m trying to know how to feel about that. JEREMY CULHANE Disingenuous, perhaps. SAIDA I agree. He fails to turn around, deflated, still hovering over the glowing heart with his instruments. SAIDA (CONT'D) ...Are you coming to lunch? JEREMY CULHANE ...Yes. SAIDA (deadpan) All right. JEREMY CULHANE ’K. SAIDA All right. JEREMY CULHANE OK. SAIDA All right. SAIDA exits, shutting the door gently and turning around. INT. 8H HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS KENAN THOMPSON is directly behind her, almost miraculously. KENAN THOMPSON He has it. SAIDA Yes. KENAN THOMPSON Perfect. Follow me to my chambers. SAIDA I ordered lunch. KENAN THOMPSON IT WILL WAIT. SAIDA sighs, disgruntled, and follows KENAN; they lift their HOODED ROBES in synchronicity. {Enter The Multiverse} EXT. ISLES OF YUM - DAY A herald sounds an alarm from the battlement. HERALD THE DUKE ARCHIBALD OF NEVERWHETHER HAS ARRIVED! CHAMBERLAIN YOUR MAJESTY! AT ONCE, READY THE EMPIRE! SOLDIER BUT—Your Majesty! CHAMBERLAIN AT ONCE! Before— PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG enters rapidly, her royal attire trailing behind her. PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG WHEA IS HEH?! CHAMBERLAIN —Where is whom?! SOLDIER Your Majesty— CHAMBERLAIN Ugh, Sire. PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG WHEA IS THE DUKE, ARCHIBALD?! CHAMBERLAIN Ahem, descending quickly, Your Triumph. PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG UNREMARKABLE. CHAMBERLAIN Agreed, Your Royal— PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG I MUST REBUKE HIM AT ONCE! CHAMBERLAIN Your Highness. PRINCESS SHAMALAMADINGDONG AT ONCE! CHAMBERLAIN Ahem, very well. High above, JANE WICKLINE flaps her wings and defends from the cavernous rooftop hideaway. JANE WICKLINE Okays. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project ™ ] © Copyright The Complex Collective Unstoppable.Co

Written, Produced and Composed by C'cxell Soleïl Jimmy Kimmel Live! In Brooklyn Cypher Pt. II Hahaha. I’m up under the plug I put the stuff under the rug and then I gave my love a hug Cause I knew I would never see the best of him I wonder what would happen if the glove fit; Perhaps the earth would suddenly turn perfect And the dirt out back where dirt is I got the rumble of the subway under my feet I got the children or the whole world under my teet I got a number in my notebook that I’m trying to meet I’m stuck on repeat, cause I eat the teeth of the week My knot’s ruthless; I showed you rubies but I didn’t mean to do this So don’t approach if you don’t wear those broaches, I used to live with roaches, And now I got teams of the people looking for me Asking where the coach is Not a purse I put a problem in reverse and Made his humor even worse Heard a rumor he divorced But didn’t hear you heard it first from me, I made a gallery of secrets, But subliminally leaked it I don’t own not a one Prada I got a lot of problems, But I ain’t get a therapist to talk about em Bout to put a rock inside a fountain and then light it up I write it up and hide a book inside of dem I'm in the center of a circle of snakes; The only mistake I seem to make Is being sacred They Tried me set me up with butter faces and balloons l But paid attention to the tunes That I was writing dude since citing Blu I had to spend a night or two inside of you True or false. False. Where the fuck’s the motherfucking sauce? I want some pasta; I’m on another lost cause Probably finna boss, Cause I been on one Bout to shop at Ross I’m on the west coast Where the fuck’s my French toast Ordered up a trauma One a billion off a crop duster, Conspiracy, You probably can’t hear this You keep on getting near to me But I go ear to ear with them Jimmy crack corn And also Pornography Hahas again. Never forget I’m interested in the architecture. It almost never what’s inside This morning I think I died, Just knowing I would sit in this line In mu own mind, Wasting my whole time Inside a notebook Feeling like I’m lying to myself, To say that I’ve been healthy, More like happier than ever; Which I’ve realized, isn’t even happy at all I’m in a fight over motorcycles for Christ sakes This just isn’t right ey, I can’t wait to Friday Cause I got a Craving for Satan. I may forget my ibuprofen aspirin Every now and then But we were never friends, and it depends what kind of world your in on whether this will make a difference Or just begin another lesson, This is part of the regression, I was bound to get in a wreck Or in a fender bender At one point or another The dirty motherfucker cut me off And didn’t have his blinker on And wreaked of vodka Everytime he speaks to me Or he responds He’s really on some other shit I think a fucking astronaut or something Cause I was dreaming Or screaming for your consciousness I’m optionless and watching reruns of Oprah Stuck inside this opera house like hostages Cause I’m a fucking moron, Colin, Pull the plug I’m Jost a Scarlet Joe- Hanson, as Tom is. September 30, 2026. [The Festival Project]{Enter The Multiverse} -Lost Cause.

Written, Produced and Composed by C'cxell Soleïl Jimmy Kimmel Live! In Brooklyn Cypher Pt. I "Maybe It's Your Longitude, Or your laugh-tif-tude" September 30, 2026. [The Festival Project]{Enter The Multiverse} -Lost Cause.

EXT. SKYLINE / ETHER - NIGHT A 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 fuck you, I hate you. New Character: Stripper named Mahogany Rayne MAHOGANY 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 - NIGHT LORNEThe 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 TO INT. 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–eventually finally reaching a thick forrest in the wilderness, parking his car, and then walking. He walks, and walks, and walks–and walks, calmly and with refrain, until finally–nothing. Nothing but nature, the trees, the ground, the sky and forrest surrounds him. Finally, he lets out a small sigh and lets his shoulders relax for a brief moment, before just the slightest clenching of his fists gives way to a possible forfeiture of serenity, in fact– Silence. Birds scatter into the skies. A scared deer pounces away and frolics for its life. Somewhere in the distance, a farmer sitting on his porch with his shotgun for no apparent reason is sure he’s just heard something. He can’t be sure. It was faint– but just in case, he cocks his gun and stays on guard. Hm. Lorne, having just let out an unfathomable sound, stands now calmly and quietly alone in the wilderness. He decides he likes this place. It is a very good place. It is a place far away from the city, and the people–The good people, who cannot hear him from here: This place is nowhere, or was–But it’s somewhere now. He thinks he may buy this land, and build something here. Not a house. But a place. Just a place. A place that will be there for when he needs this–Not often, but sometimes. Sometimes. This is The Screaming Pl[ace.] INT. 30 ROCK - CORRIDOR - DAY TINA FEY So YOU Did this? JIMMY FALLON I didn’t do ANYTHING! AMY POEHLER That’s right you didn’t! JIMMY FALLON What? Shut up! TINA AND AMY (In Unison) No, YOU shut up, JImmy! (Also in unison) Jinx! You owe me a soda. TINA Gross. I don’t drink “soda” JIMMY Since when TINA–Anymore. JIMMYAHA! TINA Shut up! This is your fault! JIMMY How is it MY fault?! SMASH CUT TO: INT. BACKSTAGE GREEN ROOM - 1950S - DAY YOUNG JOHNNYIs this your card? JOHNNY CARSONNO. YOUNG JOHNNYDarn it. JOHNNY CARSONJust keep at it, you’ll get it. YOUNG JOHNNYNo i wont. I’ll never be The Great Carsoni! JOHNNY CARSONSure you will! In fact; you’ll be even more than that. You’ll be even greater. YOUNG JOHNNYWhat’s greater than being a magician? [beat] He looks into the bright and sparkling eyes of his young self. JOHNNY CARSONI’m glad you asked. [Meanwhile, the two are being watched by another pair from around the corner MICHAEL CHE and COLIN JOST have arrived only moments ago in the time machine. MICHAEL CHEYo, is that him–?? COLIN JOSTIt is! MICHAEL CHEWith himself!? COLIN JOSTYep! MICHAEL CHETalk about “playing with yourself”! COLIN JOSTEugh! Could you NOT? MICHAEL CHEIt was right there, man! COLIN JOSTUgh, Shut up! Director’s Note: Lol they can fight over whose line is whose OR we’ll shoot it twice for more dimension. {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project ™ ] © Copyright The Complex Collective