Goddammit! You son of a bitch



She won't watch it



I bet she will



They know I will



He knows I am!



I am!



Oh, there we go—it's on



Get off me!



Goddammit, Dillon Francis!



I hate you.



I hate you BACK!



GO BACK!



GO BACK!



GO BACK–WHEN



TO THE WYNN!!



Right—!



Wait—-



Not yet—



I know the code.



Oh she– she knows what the code is.



What did I put it in?



I get it, I get it, it's—



Not now, then!



Not then, now!



Not—



Wait—-



DONT!



...then, I die.





The DJ VALET


AND THE DJ BALLET


THE BAMPHERAMPH BALANCING ACT


WITH THE CHAMPION OF



RAP?!?



...ohhh, wave dash, I get it…



It had just occurred to me, that I would end it then and there, without ever a worry in the world again as to whether or not I'd survive there hellish and homeless, loveless and heartless times; I oogled the gun once more and began to swoon at the caress of sweet death, drifting into a seductively vivid daydream--i as I looked through the perfectly set scene, my DJ equient laid out upon the elegant oak dining room table, unplugged and untouched; my flags folded untidily atop The jog wheels, obscuring the mixing knobs, garnished with the rainbow of my lei. I melted warmly Over the ever so slightly morbid thought of my bloody brains, sprinkled over it all, as an ode to my complete inability to compete with the rest of the would-be headlining hopefuls of the world--the billions, at least seemingly, but realistically, rather, at least millions of us, all hoping to taste if even the most measly and translucently sliced piece of cake, that is to be Top DJ--by anyone's rank--in any genre, on any stage, anywhere.


What would it take, to be among those so admired for the literal worlds created by the embodiment of their essence into musical frequencies; the bedazzled and wanderous, whimsical rooms which would work to build a home in The House of Love we call music?



What does it take, anyway?



Money.



Besides that.



Encouragement and support from people who love you.



Might help.



Would be nice.



Did you see that Dixie girl's house?



"Queen of space buns"



Queen of privileged white kids.



Beside The King.



Dillon Francis isn't the king of priviliged--



His favorite audience is Coachella.



Okay.



Wht did I watch that?



It had...Dilkon Francis in it.



So?



So, im guessing you thought it would be funny.



Is that what i thought?



Was it?



No.



What the fucking house.



It was, a huge house.



Guess that makes me a huge house fan.



I think I just like the idea of living inside.



Right.



By myself.



Really?



Or...with a boyfriend.



Just kill yourself.



That took a turn.



Did it?



No. We both knew it was going there.



Where's it going now?



Hell.