[005.]

For awhile I thought I wanted to be on SNL.

I really thought “maybe I could do that.”

Especially after all the 50th anniversary specials and documentaries and stuff, I was like

“This is speaking to me.” “I should do this”

“I've done stand up exactly five times!”

“I should be on SNL. Yes.”

So i started to think about it;

I got really into it, actually,

I'm like

“Yeah, i just gotta be really good st stand up, I'll climb the ladder…”

So i start watching more SNL, I'm playing along, i'm like “yeah, i'm gonna do this”,

And i start studying the history, and the people–

I get to know everybody who's ever been on the show…

And that's when I realized,

“Wait a second. I can't be

What's the short version of the joke?

Uh.

I can't be on SNL. You know why?

[Why?”

Well, I don't know– it either goes.

“Because i'm a Ravenclaw.”

“Because I'm not a Gryffendor”

I think it's that. See, almost everyone would immediately get the reference to harry potter if I said “gryffendor”

It was “I'm a hufflepuff.”

But i'm not a Hufflepuff. Jimmy Fallon is a Hufflepuff.

Sshh–that's later.

That's why I was breaking down the joke.

Ok. So how's it go?

So I start getting real familiar with all the players,

And that's when I realized,

“Wait. I can't be on SNL!”

Goddammit–I'm a Ravenclaw.

Almost everyone who's ever been on SNL is a Gryffendor!

Everyone!

Except Seth Meyers:

He's definitely a Slythern

(--and Jimmy Fallon–

He's very obviously a hufflepuff–

And they both have their own shows now so this says something.

Very obviously, almost everyone else–

Gryffendor.

[Insert Crowd Work?] –Perhaps…

You don't think so?

Watch.

You'll see.

I can't be on SNL.

I look, all I see is Gryffendor, a couple of Slytherin, and a very obvious HUfflepuff–

But no ravenclaw!

Goddammit!

Maybe we're too analytical. I don't know.

I'm not a Gryffindor.

Not a hater.

Just not a gryffendor.

It's a good house.

But i'm a ravenclaw.

Why the fuck am I writing jokes?

Cause it's Saturday.

Yo, but here's this dude–my favorite comedian of all time–and he's almost entirely improvisational.

But here I am, when I go on stage, and I just go blank. I can talk for hours to myself but suddenly i'm in front of people on a stage and I'm not myself. For whatever reason, I feel myself becoming whoever they think I am–and I can't know it–but I can feel it. So i stopped performing stand up, because most importantly, new york just simply wasn't funny to me anymore–I just didn't like it, or at least the part of it I was seeing–but maybe, the part of it that I was seeing was the only part I could see, because i was just myself. Almost as if I didn't deserve midtown–but didn't enjoy the rest of it knowing it was there.

NT. THE LIBRARY. AT DAWN.

Do you want to ride my little pink pony?

Ah, come on!

Ahem— do you want to ride my little pink pony?

-[a moment of begrudging hesitation, before he finally obliges]

Ah, yes; yes. I would like to ride your little pink pony.

Well, then.

The admiral slips the general a pink bank note, which at first glance appeera to be a 5 dollar bill.

It slips into his hand as he remains composed. Butultimately, he seems nervous, and somewhat defeated.

Later, sucka.

The admiral pumps his collar and walks away, straightening his back and giving a clever smirk as he walks away smugly— the general stands and also pops his collar a bit as his back stiffens and he stands for a moment in the center of the grand central ballroom; a luxurious dining hall, which is also still even more importantly, an wxquisite library. He turns to one of the shelves, passing by a waiter with a golden platter, who offers him o'derves; even the waiter seems a big smug, and the general, though keeping his composure, squints with a resentment, opting instead for a cocktail on the table beside him; it is clearly not his cocktail and now he is reflecting this smugness, the waiter shrugs it off and in an instant he is alone again in the shimmering opulence of the room; it's hard to believe this palace of sorts is hidden deep inside the crevices and hidden alleyways of a—

—ahem—

Sorry. You're right.

—tucked away in a secret location.

He turns to one of the shelves and runs his fingers along the grand row of books which happen to be at eye level; knowing the exact volume at which he places his index fingerc, tapping it above a blue book with a golden embodiment and a red seal; the book appears of course to be somewhat magical in nature, and he as well taps the cover three times before opening it to nearly the center, placing the l pink currency within its pages, and shutting it intently; as he does, the startling discovery ther an very smal man has been standing behind him for an undetermined amount of time… he jumps, but the smaller man does not merely even flinch.

CONSTABLE

Meow, goes the cat!

GENERAL

Agh…

And bark goes the dog.

CONSTABLE

Ahaha—

And what of the mouse?

GENERAL

The mouse calls not at all

(In unison)

Because the mouse has gone!/.

CONSTABLE

Aha!

GENERAL

Yeah, just.

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project™ ]

{Enter The Multiverse}

L E G E N D S:

ICONS

Tales of A Superstar DJ

The Secret Life of Sunnï Blū

Ascension

Deathwish

-Ū.