ACTION!

'ACTION!' Collection II - 'antithesis.' Track 09. ‘ACTION!' Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū Previously on (Whatever, I Give up. ) HALLE BERRY is that how you spell it It is for now. Fuck going online “That ain't part of my day” Shut up Drake, not now. You'll thank me later “If You're Reading This, It's Too Late” [HALLE BERRY is taking A VERY PAINFUL SHIT, clutching her *favorite OSCAR award-- Which one's her favorite? CUT TO: BEFORE HALLE BERRY looks over her OSCARS in the display cabinet, carefully scanning them, with a New York Times paper tucked under her left arm, sipping from the coffee cup in her right hand.] —I like this guy. The other OSCARS groan; they are often overlooked during this process. Come on! This guy! AGAIN!? UGH. CUT BACK TO: [HALLE BERRY clenches painfully, sweating audaciously—at the worst possible moment, her cellphone rings. ] WHAT THE—COME ON I THOUGHT I WAS IN AIRPLANE MODE. (I just found out The Illuminati can still make calls go through in airplane mode Or without cell service at all) wtf my phone is ringing. That's weird. You don't even— —I don't even have a phone. Right. (Seriously, my phone is disconnected. I didn't even pay my bill.) The fuck. [it's JIMMY FALLON] Damn. This dude has the worst possible timing ever. Like fucking ever. Always shows up at the worst —THE WORST MOMENT. [HALLE BERRY rejects the call. It rings again] WHAT THE— [She ignores the second call. A moment of subtly relaxed silence, until— [JIMMY FALLON appears in the ceiling window of the bathroom. HALLE BERRY SCREAMS, still fluting her OSCAR.] (Calmly, kind of) Hey, WHAT THE FUCK, JIMMY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? I called first! I KNOW THAT— Went to voicemail. YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE. Just—calm down. NO. Look. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! I'm not in your house, I'm outside your house. Technically. —yeah, but your FACE is in my house— —I hear that's the best part. —What?! Listen— Get out— No, look, listen— I need to borrow your Oscar. What?! For what?! That's not important. Oh really?! Yeah. It seems important. It's not that important Just—- What! Give it to me! [He snatches the OSCAR and tosses her his GRAMMY.] Just—trade me. What! What for?! Just—trust me— I do not— Just trust me—! WHAT! Congratulations. As you were. Kind of. WHAT—JIMMY— [She realizes the ridiculousness of her calling after him. She sits awkwardly with the Grammy in her lap, sighing] —he was my favorite… [SUDDENLY, though the other window Why does this bitch have so many windows in her bathroom that are this penetrate? For the sake of the joke, but probably not something any celebrity should have, are windows where anyone can enter your house from the outside. Fans are weird. CUT TO: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH. I LOVE YOU. CUT TO: What's this place. It's my house, Where are the windows? They don't exist. CUT BACK TO [DANE COOK appears through the opposite window.] YO. WHAT THE FUCK! Chill, Halle Berry. WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?! I'm the guy who wrote this. You should have called first! Who do I look like, Jimmy Fallon?! NO. I LIKE HIS face. Huh. Is that what it is… I GUESS I DONT KNOW. —who are YOU—?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE— I am not in, technically— I DONT CARE! Ooh— Is that a Grammy award?! I didn't know you had a Grammy! Gimmie! [he snatches the Grammy] HEY! Is—what is this, for COMEDY?! FOR COMEDY?! WHY WASN'T I MADE AWARE THAT THIS IS A THING?! I DON'T KNOW, WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? WHAT THE FUCK. It's not important. What. Anyway, thanks. Toodeloo. ‘The equilateral triangle should always be centered.' —use that vocal trick from compli—sometimes things get whatever // What's he reading? Architecture? ‘Oh; that dude's fancy.' Interior design? Classy. He's sexy. That dude's fancy. lol wtf is in my Amazon cart right now? Uh— Some yoga mats Kettlebells A record player that looks like a gramaphone A Pilates machine A peloton Uhm Frozen berries. When did you become a ghost? —I guess— I always was one. This is wrong. There must be a mistake. You and I both know, There are no mistakes Made by us. This is dangerous. That, you are correct about, dear boy. However, The only one here mistaken, Is you. Oh God, If I fall back into this dream again Who knows how long it might be Until I come out. —or if you come out at all. The pressure points Besides my veins, Or arteries, For scientific purposes Targets for thumb marks, Thimbles and razorblazes Misfortune to have found Such a pain only grows, Out of homeless, And then once housed, A lack of love from others I've an entire cast of antiques In the back of my mind, Behind me, Manhattan The coffee has cooled And yet nothing such starts Until I've gone and bulleted All the sins of the father {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. That thing that you wanted is waiting. Which thing? Love? Money? Fame? Power? Protection? Safety? Wealth? …Cream of Wheat? Cream of wheat? …it's probably cream of wheat. {Enter The Multiverse} …did you mean to do this? Nobody ever really means to do this. [The Festival Project ™ ]