Platform 9 3/4

I solemnly swear I am up to no good. Did it work? Fuck—it worked! It fucking worked! Alright— —where is she? There she is. Don't leave me here! Sorry Gerald, I promise it's not for long. It's always long! I'm sorry, dude. Take me with you. No, I can't. Yes you can! Gerald, I can't! —yes you can! Don't repeat yourself. I—just— look, stay here. Do I have a choice?! No, not really. *sighs* Finally, you're here. Yes I am. Welcome back, kid. It's the future! It's—yes. Fuck this shit. What? Wake me up. Already? Yeah, fuck this. There's a purpose. Everything has purpose— —supposedly. —supposedly. [beat] Where's Dillon Francis? DILLON FRANCIS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT. DON'T BLAME ME. ITS YOUR FAULT. I feel like we should all take equal responsibility for this —ITS YOUR FAULT. Okay, okay. He plays a mean guitar. —and it's obvious, that's what she wants Ominous, even, but He's a star, So posh— And she's awkward, At work, All full of nonsense— It's just imagination, kids You'd better use it Before you're older Oh! Don't stop now, The doors open No! Don't close it, You know You know you got options Stop, or just pause It's an awful lot, Hollywood Gunshots and all, She's got nothing but God left Stop, drop, and roll Or just, pause Or just hold, kid We're rolling ‘—I'm on one, ‘ It's awful, you know, What stardom does She's not lost, Not forgotten, It's just been picked up; Season One, is, for starters The end, where it started ‘You're a star, kid' Oh! Don't stop now, The doors open No! Don't close it, You know You know you got options Stop, or just pause It's an awful lot, Hollywood Gunshots and all, She's got nothing but God left He's down on his knees, She don't know what he needs, It's just not her— It's awful, what stardom does Stop, but don't start it Pause, if you want, or Just roll with it “I'm on one” I'm lost, But I'm still on my mark Ready, set, go— On your marks, Here's a hallmark card, for your mom In the moment, I want him But oh, I'm so lonely “We're rolling” Lifhts, camera, action I act as if everything's okay, But Oh! Son, I worry, I was once a mother I've got— Nothing but God left (And Equinox) Lol KNOCK, KNOCK, BITCH. Uhh—who's there? OPEN THE DOOR, TIMMY. [he nervously does so] Hey. (Mockingly) “Hey” Uh— I didn't expect you so soon. What is “soon”? Like, not today. Well, it's today. What a suprise. I love suprises. Oh, you do? C'mon, pay up. [he palms a set of crinkled bills out of his pocket and hands them over.] $81? Heh—Suprise! You've got to be shitting me. Look, I'm sorry. No apologies, Timmy. I am sorry… I gave you a job. Yeah, I know. So I expect you to get it done. I'll get it. Don't lie, Timmy! I'm not lying, I— Who's your friend? Who—what? —Gerald? “Gerald?” That's—just a piñata. Hm. What? I'll take that. No, you can't! Yes I can. Please— See you, Timmy. FUCK. JIMMY FALLON, THE COSMIC AVENGER, lurks in the corner of the SPRING ARCADE BUILDING. I see Ew. Are you serious? MWA-HA-HA. I don't like you. Yes you do. Fuck off, Jimmy. Watch your language! Watch yourself, foo! —we're still waiting. Waiting On what? [JIMMY FALLON- THE COSMIC AVENGER HAS VANISHED, Leaving no trace besides a singular, spinning penny.] FUCK. It is what it is— It's just money, It spends, honey It's just Skrillex I'm just a menace to society with feelings— Do you feel it? Come on, I've got to get my songs out, And works published That's one novel, And another one; I still love you What an honor I'm sorry, hun I warned you, I'll warm up in the long run It's not funny I'm not watching it if he's not on A sift assumption A hot lunch? It's my first one, Since the long holidays Took a long run this morning At Equinox But it's not enough yet No one loves me God, I love Long walksin the sun But don't need a dollar for it Is this what you wanted, Nickelodeon? I'm the wrong one; That's some luck You fought me on the clock But now i'm stuck watching it I give no fucks, No, not one You all watched as I wrote psalms Drove off a bridge cause I want a hug And still haven't got one At least not outside of the smoke shop I'm a broke God, But not for long. I might belong to someone If I get this weight off And thank Thoth For the offer, the alter, the snake talk And I hate croissants, and tater tots And Walmart—till they pay me off (Or lay me off! Ha!) What a sponsor I'm an alcoholic, I'm your handsome daughter, Coughing blood up like Walter Shake the coke off, but I'll take the water, If it makes me hot enough to wear a halter top next summer. Jimmy. Hmm? Why is it that you live seated so deeply within my subconscious mind, that I find you wherever I go? [JIMMY FALLLON looks up from the newspaper, one leg crossed over the other, the blue hues of his 3-piece suit gleaming broadly against the pale and smug look on his face. He sighs deeply, takes a sip of his very hot-cocoa looking Hot Mocha Beverage, looking over the golden rims of his glasses, exhales heavily and peers into her eyes.] You know why. AAGGHH— CUT TO: what do you do with your life? This. Pretty much. Dang. Yeah. W0W. Yeah. Ah, I see— A new muse; If I refuse you, Who would light the fuse; If I consume you, then— Who would spin our world into cartoons; If I lose you too soon, Will you review this exposition That I'm glued to? {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.