TITUS

Come, now—

As the king does sit upon my throne,

Though not a King myself as I,

Still cherished among men and many

Who are in thine favor,

As you seek truth to bear, my King

And not your but also yours,

Does partake thy bethrotjen nature,

To swallow whole a seed a assumption as

To vanish by trace,

The rather and tide to bond,

For truth you seek,

And truth I bear,

As fruit does grow,

By force of not God,

But nature,

And to thine, the faring way

The truth does seek you, too

Thus, my God and Queen—

But also King,

Ruler never captured

And gained wisdom by time,

Which—

None does have, but thyself.

And now, Titus.

To know,node bearing fruit are I

And bearing truth shall you,

A lesson gathered, as you as one

And I as other— under the assumption of

Love

What is love?

God, this is a sausage feat in here.

Let's get some women in this bitch.

Oh, there are women—

They just don't speak much—

Especially in this series

Ascension.

Because they're perfect.

Archaic is this,

A truce for the truth I seek.

A wage for the war I've bargeouned.

Listen now.

You tell me.

I tell you all that I know,

For nothing now,

And in nothing's sake,

The shared alter.

I, too, you.

And you to I—

Have we parted but some to forge

But others?

No others remain.

And still I gather.

With flower.

And grow thy seed.

The fruit, or truth?

No difference.

A tree, I am born.

To wake.

A shadow in the summer's night where autumn azure sun does beem,

The wicked truth you lie to pardon

Stands in its own awakening;

Shallow moon tide's at dawn,

And so, you kind folk of Kingdom there

And Kingdom come,

The truth is said as this,

The seed the fruit—

The love was born in ritual,

And only then,

The dance was made,

For the song to have been sung as such.

Dear Queen, my heart.

For never better none has taken guilt in wavering the time has come;

Never now but always forward

And never there but always bound,

To love itself,

And so I am.

Again.

Trust me.

I have.

The King is slain.

—but also lives.

As haunted and as haunting no doubt,

But to gain is this, my trust

And in your waiver— the vow

My honor, and sacntity so.

The swine.

Not of this realm, but others seek.

And in this realm and others so

The truth of fruit shall parish,

Ignored and never eaten

Never to have grown from seed,

And then, of course,

No tree shall I shadow

In midnight summer's truth,

The blue azure light,

Of seeking sun,

Soon to align,

By midnight dawn,

And waking tide—

The moon you say.

A sworn disaster.

And so, I pray.

All's fair.

And you.

[TITUS with a heavy heart exits the corridor.]

{Enter The Multiverse}

The Strine Force Five assembles in the basement before supper is called

SETH, a peckish boy, almost goilish looking, maybe 11 or so steals cookies from OLIVER, who might be about 9, who speaks with a heavy and very proper English accent—

Stop stealing my biscuits!

Why bring them if you're not going to share?

I did share. You lot had the box!

You know these are cookies, right?

They're my special biscuits.

UPSTAIRS, MOM and DAD, very much the classic stereotypical suburban and American everywoman and Everyman prepare for supper. DAD, who resembles almost too much the LATE JOHNNY CARSON, peers into his newspaper conspicuously—

Who does mom resemble?

Let me —

LATER, at the DINNER TABLE.

Boys, Say hello to your uncle Steve.

[The man heavily resembles Steve Allen]

OLIVER

Hello, Uncle Steve!

UNCLE STEVE

…I'm not your uncle.

LIL JIMMY

(Mumbling)

I don't like uncle Steve…

BIG JIMMY elbows him. Hard.

LIL JIMMY

Ow!

BIG JIMMY smacks him upside the head, however without harming his very neatly done swooping hair.

LIL JIMMY

Where's uncle Jack?

UNCLE STEVE

He's on his way.

DAD

(Grumbles)

…always late.

LIL JIMMY

(also grumbling, almost mimicking)

—that's what I'm saying.

BIG JIMMY shoves LIL JIMMY into his seat

Also meanwhile, in another alternate dimension.

So you're real name is JIMMY WANG.

I fucking guess.

That's nuts!

—it's..:whatever.

No, that's nuts—

No, it's balls, homie,

Your actual name is actually

“Dick” twice.

Hehehehe.

Stop it.

Did you have a middle name.

No!

Let me see.

NO.

Stop— let me—

NO!

[he grabs the birth certificate from Jimmy's grip]

Let's see.

—Jimmy—

UGH,

Oh, that's interesting, Jimmy and not James, how endearing—let's see—

Jimmy—Ah, RICHARD— Wang.

Oh my God.

Your whole name is just—

STOP IT.

—it's just dicks.

Just—penis words.

Tripe dicks.

AH!

[nearly in tears, JIMMY runs to sulk into the washroom while his buddies continue making dick jokes; it's almost to much to bear—having learned so much about his true identity, most recently, that he was adopted at a very young age from a very nice Asian couple.]

SUNNI BLU

(Reading newspaper, breaking fourth wall)

I told you he was Asian bro.

SUDDENLY, Deadpool crashes through the door.

SUNNI BLU tosses the super hot model in their lap across the room.

YO. DEADPOOL.

DEADPOOL

YO.

SUNNI BLU

NOT COOL, BRO.

DEADPOOL

—what was your name again?

SUNNI BLU

Ya mutha!

DEADPOOL

NOT COOL.

SUNNI BLU

Whateva.

{Enter The Multiverse}

“Tools of the Trade”

Welcome to Hollywood.

Who are you?

That's not important.

It seems important.

Now—lessonsz

Ok.

Tools of the trade:

Uh huh.

My dick.

[he insinuates his crotch]

Package.

My dyke.

[A very pretty lesbian appears out of nowhere.]

Hello.

My Dick Van Dyke.

DICK VAN DYKE also appears out of nowhere.

Woah, dude!

Careful, he's priceless.

I know dude.

I can hear you, you know.

I hear you too, Dick.

Woah! How old are you, dude?

Old!

Get out of here;

Go lay down;

Take a nap!

They said the gig was till 3.

You're off early.

Or late.

[DICK VAN DYKE turns to leave.]

I can still hear you.

sweet yellow pinapple and coconut curry over brown rice and lentils sounded like a good Christmas Eve In—

“Wait? It is Christmas Eve, isn't it?”

I checked the date and time as my phone connected to the wifi.

“Yep.” I concurred, slurping the last of the curry broth from my dinner bowl— my second, but most likely out of three. I'd made enough to last however two or three days, and though I had been offline for throught most of now what seemed the entire month, letting my bills lapse over to make nonexistent room in the budget for the peloton, which seemed fair, considering how small I was getting, even cooking and eating myself into the non complacent waking coma that was the vivid and apt focus needed to create music for hours on end—something I had never quite done before in a certain way, and it seemed as though working in this fashion seemed somehow to have moved me solidly forward and sideways through time a bit—some sort of diagonal. I had rested the Sabbath and in the midst of it fallen behind by two days, but making up for it and catching up speed, I had submitted two releases in the early mo...