3 DJs on a boat, sleeping. One wakes up.
Hey—! Isn't that Skrillex?
No…
—and isn't that Dillon Francis?
No.
Yes it is!
It's not..
DJ Dillon Francis.
Yah!
See!
Woah!
I told you!
What happened to ‘em?
Just sleeping. Go away.
But that's, Skrillex and Dillon Francis; and—
No, these are my dads.
What?
[later]
Wake up?
NO.
DONT KILL ME.
I hate the ocean.
Shut up.
U!
You know u?!
What is he doing here?!
Shut the fuck up/
Don't kill me again.
You're already dead, bitch.
Don't call me a bitch.
What, you're not even going to give us silverware?
What is this?
This is a...fruit salad.
Aww what? You got fruit salad?
Mines like, actual salad.
Nuh uh—
No, way trade me—!
No trades.
Why is he here?
Stop asking questions.
What's a “question?”
I am a question.
Dang dude. I don't know what this meeting's about, but it looks serious.
Dillon Francis looks rough.
Roughhhhhhh.
What, are you gonna put all this food here and then just—
—she's going to starve us to death!
Chak Chel: Why would I do that AGAIN?
WH—CHAK CHEL, HOW DO YOU DO THAT?!
I AM.
Oh, Infinitely—you little Skrilly mothetfucker you just—
You just sit.
I...Am sitting.
Silently.
They all sit in silence for a moment. Dillon Francis is confused by this strange tension.
He did the same thing too, ya know—
sonny darts eyes at Dillon, still in ‘silence'
You—did—you motherfucker!
I—what?
AHA. So you are telepathic, I KNEW IT.
...Knew what?
What the fuck.
{Enter The Multiverse}
[The Festival Project.™]
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