30 Я 0 C K.


30 Я 0 C K.


She's trapped in a fat black trash can

She makes friends at wasteland

She takes tabs that taste bad

DAMN.

Half an acid after ASAP crapped on the map,

Back to the BASSPOD for some awful crap

She tried to dance to,

She's trying—she's trying, but can't

Thinks about camp, and the wristband she grabbed as a sample

But the black man, her first fan, is holding her hand

His first rave ever was at the promised land

She left with a plan, panicked in Alaska, then ran

Went manic with Uncle Sam, damaged;

A sacrifice, like a lamb

They call for Christ, and she wants to answer but hasn't;

Advice from dad—

“Humankind has gone mad.”

The Day Met The Night

She had to miss the man in the hat; but was glad

The act she caught was by an artist that's also black

Bass music lacks much, in fact;

Every since Skrillex did it,

Everyone else just does that

Now they're programmed and mathematical,

Dubstep is had,

Everybody loves Excision and forgot how to dance;

No offense to Jeff,

It's just his fans are the worst—

She was still in the hearse, but witness to the dress rehearsal.

Till Death Do Us Part,

So she did; but Rest In Peace, she didn't—

She was almost asleep, then here comes

The Nigga, Skrillex.

The Aliens Did it.

NO WE DIDNT. THE GODS DID.

Call it Divine Intervention

Right on Time for Dentention

He wreaked of all the sadness and Liquor

The Poor Thing, he needed attention she couldn't give it, just wished she didn't exist

She was shook, and just booked it out of the

Soul Kitchen

The whole mission was meant to be a means of prevention; A rockstar musician and a mystic's intuition

At Intermission, she interviews with Inside Edition—

When he makes his entrance,

She breaks away just to kiss him

But Listen:

In this dimension, the Media Captures the passion

She had for the man on camera, a scandal happens!

His girlfriend's mad, his fans all hate this random fat black actress, or rapper— whatever she is, she woke up famous, and the FanGirls attack

They all love Sonny; Fight over him in forums like vultures;

It's part of the culture, she knows because she studies producers—

But this one is different, there's only one Skrillex—

A loser;

Money talks and bullshit walks, and that's an evil doer;

She just calmly walked away, she couldn't do him the favor

He just came into her life, and then he came back never;

Now she just wonders what would have happened, had she acted on impulse;

His hands were right between her thighs, but then he acted repulsed, as his fingertips brushed the skin of her belly—

The Curse of her body: reality's depiction of gluttony;

We all need love.

Perhaps what Sonny needed was hugs,

But Ugly she was, and had been cracked like a nut;

A scar on her lip,

A scar on her eye,

The Sun God marked “Mine”

Blinded by the light, polite tidings, moonlit nights fighting the right side— look at the bright side;

We are alike, right?

We like white.

Fine.

What is a pawn to a Knight?

What's a King to a Queen?

A Lion to a Lioness might seem to be priority;

In reality it's just another misogyny

She knows she needs;

He needs nothing.

Rafiki, believe me—

I did see Simba under a Tree,

With a Hog and a Meerkat, I think

Take it easy on the DMT,

Before Disney reads this catastrophe.

Well, that's random.

Well, so is Skrillex in your tent.

Is he for sale, or for rent?

Is she no more than a friend?

I'm offended, but get it—

That's just how it is, with a rich kid;

I lost 200 pounds, but she's posing for “fitness”,

Basic.

Forget this shit.

At the core, I resent it;

I fell in a horrible instant

Aplorable, isn't it?

Now I just want to prevent;

I saw through dimensions,

Prayed for him,

I went and I fasted

Attracted spirits out of crypts with magic

I flew the black flag, ship wrecked on an island and died again,

All my friends and Family in heaven keep mentioning him

I don't know what he did,

But I'm just trying to save—

Shh. What did Tim say?

He tried to warn me about Garrett before I even knew his name;

It's fucking crazy,

But I lost it when he passed away—

I remembered the day I called

“A Long Drive, With You, Friends”

Cause I was stuck in the Skrillex attemtpting to decipher the message;

Ran down the mountain pouting about Dillon Francis,

But when I got back to town, I found out what the past is;

Los Angeles was smaller, but still back to back traffic—

I looked down from Elysian Park at all of the Classics;

It had to be about the 60's, it was a nightmare—

Time Travel would be fun, if I had chosen to go there,

But no!

A flash went off as I was leaving the mountain,

I didn't even feel the phototelepoertation,

It was instant.

I'm a crackhead,

I'm a mental health case—

Five years ago, I said I'd run for President someday

I knew as the words came out; it was a fatal mistake

I became #1 Enemy of the State

The USA was under a brand new administration,

We went Global, White Supremacy Funds Corporations

Now it doesn't matter what I say or do;

On paper, I've been documented as…

Doesn't matter.

The worst of it was,

They gave me Sonny's head on a platter

“Invest In Water”

Telepathy is easy for me;

But gnashing of teeth?

I listen to Skrillex, the secrets I keep

Now I'm starting to weep,

Take it easy—

He's probably busy.

I'm standing in line at the showers, he's disappearing

I can't believe it;

His name wasn't on the roster

An imposter, impossible;

I already saw him

His mom worries, a lot—

But I don't know which one,

She begged and pleaded for me to save her son

And the West was won,

Annie went and got her gun

She's ugly, but she's skinny and she's also a slut;

A DJs just a squirrel with a nut—

Always looking for another with some tits and a butt

Looks young? So what?

ID says Connecticut, just turned 21

But she's sucking her thumb

Dumb DJ wants to have fun

Now thunder has struck;

At least this time I'm in luck—

I don't know what he's done,

But Space Jesus is giving everyone a good in for their money,

Here bassnectar comes;

My assumption was—you've seen one, it applies to all of them.

Apparently not, my previous favorite

Previous, I say, because I think someone paid him

As years pass by, I see what I've written—it's clearly a given, perhaps this is the reason I've risen;

This is a prison.

I don't want to listen to Skrillex.

I'm so sick of Dillon Francis,

And being a black chick

I'm so sick of fitness models

And Instagram fitness

I'm so sick of Sonny Moore and this aryan woman.

According to the Book or Mormon,

I'm rather important,

But neither myself or they would admit it—

Untraceably ancient, they have questions of our Family's origins

I'm like,

Just ask Skrillex. That dudes way more a force than I—not adopted, but unwanted, and unaborted.

Now I'm imported, an immortal now with African heritage—

Not African, but they have to call me African American or black like, statistically—

Thats seeming racist again, I think.,

I'm also indigenous—but white people see me as black;

Blacks know that I'm half, they laugh and turn their back,

As if.

The Black Cat in the hat sat and splashed blood on his mask; he had to attack the bampheramph master, acting as captain

He can't stand him, now he's trapped in a mansion with Dillon Francis and a Masked Banana,

Happy with Hammocks for batting practice.

[Skrillex is resting in a hammock. The masked banana Approaches.]

WHAT THE FUCK.

CUT TO:

Here he is.

is he dead?

No, he's Skrillex.

Don't be stupid.

That's a shiner.

It's a doozy…








...This Nigga.

This Nigga.

This NIGGA.

Uh oh.

Where is Skrillex?

I found him.

He's over there.

He's over WHERE?

You should go.

[shrugs] I should stay.

Now you're playing.

It's your game.

I'll kill you.

I doubt that.

Don't tempt me.

Or you'll what?

No, no, no!

Dillon Francis?!!

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

<

GO AWAY DUDE, I GOT THIS.

NO, OKAY?! NO.

Ay, no! Vamos!

JUST STOP IT.

What is he doing here?

What are you doing here?

I'm on the lineup.

(Like, 6 people)

HOW?

Ask My Management.

>< Man, fuck your management.

GERALD: Hey, fuck you!

Gerald?! S'that you?

GERALD: Yes, ‘tis I!

You look good!

Back at cha!

...is that your piñata?

Previously, kind of.

What the fuck.

Dillon.

Heh.

Oh, what—he's “Dillon” now?

I've always been “Dillon” that's my name

You're “Dillon Francis”

DJ Dillon Francis.

You wish you were a DJ.

Why would I waste a wish—?

[they bicker, as S Ū P A C R E E silently prepares for battle. As she sharpens The Battle Axe, Skrillex takes notice and moves quickly towards her.]

Hey—where'd you get that?!

Oh, what, this?

The Battle Axe?

Yeah, it is!

What the fuck!

I thought you had that.

[Skrillex, startled, checks his pockets; which is ridiculous, because he's wearing Skinny jeans.]

I thought he was wearing shorts.

We like shorts.

The Skrillex Shorts

(Angrily)

What did you DO?

What did YOU do? Satan won't tell me unless I give him my sOuL

Oh, goodness…

Jesus Christ! What?

Don't.

((Jesus: GODDAMMIT I TOLD YOU, I'M ON VACATION.))

Why with Satan?

I am Satan.

What the fuck!

He's just kidding.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

Stop calling on Jesus, he's not coming.

((I ALREADY TOLD YOU, CALL CREE))

[Up, at Jesus]

DONT CALL ME BY MY SLAVE NAME, JESUS—I FUCKING TOLD YOU.

You know what—?

[Jesus Appears.]

Dillon Francis: *gasps* JESUS.

What, Dillon Francis? What? Do we not spend enough time talking? What?

Dillon Francis:

Jesus: Just—practice patience, you'll get your fuckin shit—just. Ugh. And, YOU!

Skrillex: Me?

Jesus: Nah, dog. You're straight.

Skrillex: Nice.

Dillon Francis: WHAT? The FUCK.

Jesus: hey—out of sight, out of mind; unlike your dumb ass—am I right?

Dillon Francis: You know him?

Jesus: We're booed up.

Wait, you're fuckin' Jesus?

Not with that inflection.

Jesus: Oh what, jealous?

Dillon Francis: This is awful.

Jesus: It's God Awful.

Dillon Francis: That's not punny.

Jesus, Skrillex, and SupaCree: YES IT IS.

Dillon Francis: Oh, My God.

Jesus: Dont call God—

SupaCree: No, she is not—

—she's probably busy—

—she's not available—

Dillon Francis: What is happening.

Gerald: How do you know Jesus?

He's a Distant relative—Look.

I don't have time for this; I'm on vacation.

You've been on vacation since The Bush Administration!

Wait, Which One?

Dude, why bother?

It's current events!

This entire existence is a current event!

Would you just forget about Heaven? Look, you're not getting back in again until you finish this—not without your little friends.

Skrillex: I'm not her friend.

Supacree: Skrillex isn't my friend.

Dillon Francis: She's not my friend.

GERALD: I'm your friend.

Yeah you are!

Yeah I am!

Love You Gerald!

...Did you fuck?

What's with you!?

Jesus: She's not your friend.

Skrillex: Hell nah!

Jesus: I'm not talking to you, I know she's not your friend—

Skrillex: Damn straight.

Jesus: —You have no friends.

Oooh.

Goddamn.

Christ's Sake.

Jesus: Money is the root of all evil.

Dillon Francis: Hey— I said that; I said Money Sucks, Friends Rule!

[super serious]

Jesus: No.

Dillon Francis: ...No?

Jesus: You—asked for a friend. I sent you a friend! Why isn't she your friend?!

Dillon Francis: [makes a face] ...that was the friend you sent?

Jesus: YES.

Dillon Francis: ...that I asked for?

Jesus: YES. What's wrong?

Dillon Francis : I just…

Adjust.

[Jesus receives the Alien communication signal telepathically.]

Jesus: Adjust? Fuck me.

Supacree: Is that them?

Skrillex: Mmmmm….

Dillon Francis: Oh, my God!

Jesus: Oh, guess what? Now she's coming.

Are they close?

Seems like it.

Dillon Francis: What the fuck!

Fuck, alright then.

“Fuck, alright then.”

Shutthefuckup—

Why don't you shutthefuckup—

Jesus: Both of you shutthefuckup.

Shut The Fuck Up, And Listen

Oh, shit—fuck—there's still a battle?

Uh, yeah, there's still a battle; God loves these things.

Dillon Francis: Wait, wait, wait—

Jesus: wait, wait what? Dude, just shut up go get your...what's your rave weapon again?

Supacree: white privilege?

Dillon: (at Skrillex) no, that's his.

Jesus: oh please, it's basically everyone's—except hers.

Yikes.

Skrillex: [squints]

Jesus: yeah, yikes. Now take a hike so I can talk with these two immortal morons without your face in my face.

My face isn't in your face…

Your face is in my face! Now get lost! Prepare to Save The Rave!

...this is strange.

[to side, cut scene

Gerald: what is your rave weapon, anyway?

Dillon Francis: it's a secret.




Jesus: Alright—

[as they prepare, she each scan the skyline for a sign of advanced life.]

Skrillex: not another flyby.

Supacree: Jesus fucking Christ.

Jesus: Where is it?

Supacree: He has it.

Skrillex: She has it.

Both: no, I don't.

Both: yes, you do!

Jesus: Are you serious?

Skrillex: What is your life?

Supacree: I'm not alive, I just died!

Skrillex: Oh yeah, right?

Jesus: oh yeah, right.

Skrillex: psh. That's bullshit.

Jesus: you don't have to believe it.

Skrillex: I don't, that's—

Supacree: We get it, you're a satanist.

Jesus l: why! Satan can't do shit.

Supacree: I know, right?

Skrillex: I'm not “Satanist”

Skrillex: We're just binded.

Supacree: Stupid Ass Skrillex.

Skrillex: Nobody called you!

Supacree: My phone died! That's how I got stuck with you on the last flyby!

Skrillex: It wasn't me!

Jesus: Yes it was.

Supacree: I don't care.

Jesus. You do care.

Skrillex: more than cares!

Supacree: less. Way less.

Skrillex: she's obsessed—

Supacree: I am obsessive.

Jesus: this is impressive.

Skrillex: Gee, thanks ref.

Supacree: save your breath—

Jesus: You're both miserable.

Skrillex: I'm not miserable, I'm rich,

Supacree: he's not miserable, he's rich.

See?

Okay—first of all— you're both rich.

SupaCree: wait, I am?

Skrillex: wait, she is?

Jesus: YES.

Supacree: when is this?

Jesus: that's on you. And him.

Supacree and Skrillex: what? How?!

Jesus: Well, do you Wield the Sword of Skrillex?

Skrillex: ...The What?

Supacree: …oh yeah, huh.

Jesus: there you go.

Supacree: Huh.

Skrillex: what the fuck!?

Jesus: Yeaaah...anyway, we're way off subject, and we're arguably moments away from this dimension being ripped open; Half the family's in transit—

Half? Oh, Goddamn.

This is bad.

Gimmie my sword.

It's my sword!

Technically, it's his.

But it isn't.

I mean, just because you Weilded it in Skrillex—

When was this?!

DUDE, QUIT DRINKING.

Finally someone said it.

Someone had to.

*gasp*

SUPER WHITE GURL:

SKRILLEX HAS A DRINKING PROBLEM?

No.

What? You just said—

This is fictional, Becky—a total-what if.

My name Rebecca.

My Name is Skrillex.

No it isn't—

—what is it—-?

It's—

—What's My Name?

—its—

—-?!?!

——?????!!!

—it's Skrillex, Becky—

—rebbeca—

—SIT DOWN BECKY.

(She sits.)

Goddamn.

Oh, she will.

She's nothing like Rebbeka, Rebekah was beautiful.

So you do have my memory.

Nails in hands.

You felt that?

Shove it, Boomer!

What are you?

I TOLD you already.

Jesus: She told you.

Are you eating?

I get hungry.

Skrillex: UGHHHHGGGHHH.

Supacree: AGGGHGHGHGH!!!!

This is intense.

Oh, like camping!

It wasn't me!!!

(Like, Everyone)

Yes it was.

This nigga doe.

I know, huh.

This nigga serious.

He hella serious.

He aint remember—

—he ain't remember—

—Nothin!

Who the fuck are you?

Creative Affirmative Action.

What?

There's not enough black people in this movie, so.

What you mean?

Skrillex is black.

[Skrillex]

No—

Sure he is—

—look at him—

[Skrillex]

Ugh, he's gonna sue me.

For what?! Ridiculous.

Exactly, yeah that.

Skrillex is ridiculous.

Yes, but si is this:

The Nigga, Skrillex

As not to be confused with

Skrillex, The Nigga

(He's a Rapper!)

Of course he is.

And, while we're at it—might as well go ahead and introduce—

The Nigga Skrillex

Not a rapper?

Oh no, he does rap. It just doesn't matter.

Because he's black.

*gasp*

Black Skrillex?!

No, The Nigga Skrillex.

What's the difference?!

Well…

Black Skrillex: Yes, Good afternoon—could I please get, $20 on pump 8 please? Thank you.

Okay, so whats the—

[As Black Skrillex exits, The Nigga Skrillex enters the same inconvinece store, looking shady.]

[Actual Skrillex Makes a Face]

Mmm—just wait, it gets better.

Cut Back To:

The Nigga Skrillex makes a menacing face at the cashier, whose hand hovers over the panic button.

Its hella shady.

cashier: can I help you?

The Nigga Skrillex: Nah, prolly not.

[beat]

he turns towards the cooler and palms a 40 oz.

the tension rises. he plops it on the counter and stares coldly at the attendant.

you know what?

…?

Let me get a….$20 on the lotto, and some berry backwoods.

okay.

wait—how much is that?




…$1.99 a pack.

Goddam!... can i just get one?

...yeah.












LETS GET READY TO RUMBLE.

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