[As his girlfriend begins giving him a sensual and passionate fellacio, the man senses something isn't right.]

…baby.

Mm-hmm?

Um…

—whafths wrng?

Uh—nothing it's just—

—wht—

—that—just—

Uh huh?

What did you do earlier?

Before this?

Yeah.

I hada massage—

—before that—

—before that?

Yeah.

Hot ones.

WHAT?

Yeah—what?! I had a hot ones interview!

THATS WHY MY DICK IS ON FIRE?!

YOUR DICK IS FIRE—

—nah, wait— your dick is on fire?!

WHAT THE FUCK! YO.

Oh. That makes sense.

WHAT THE FUCK!

[he begins furiously rinsing his crotch with cool water]

Did you not think to brush your teeth!?!

I did brush my teeth!

With toothpaste!?

AND FLOSS.

Oh, really.

AND mouthwash!

I don't believe you!

Believe me! They gave me a whole gift basket after the interview—that's where I got the coupon for the massage!

FLASHBACK:

Sean Evan's gifts [Sunnï Blū] a gift basket full of hot ones essentials; DA BathBOMB, hot sauce body oils, first we feast (then we brush) toothpaste, all scoville scale inspired goods and products;

LATER:

Sean Evan's is taking a jacuzzi bath in a tub full of steamy red boiling hot sauce, when (the man) enters furiously and red faced, aiming for Sean Evans' neck; he stands up calmly and wraps himself in a towel, which looks like bacon.

Ah.

I've been expecting you.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]