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FreeStyle Drama Plus :: from the Future


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The Alchemly of Earth Absorbed SOLAR Energy ::
  with The Four House Men of Future Drama...   @
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T-Minus 21:00+- Minutes Read Time / Count-Down. For those - who survive. We'll meet back at Grid 7. Good Luck. And Godspeed.
thE Techno Power Accelerated Clean NrG SaVe tHe PL@NeT Mix

Call the office.
What's the number. 202 6 88 00 1 0 .

"...Harnessing the power of technology
and policy innovation to accelerate
the clean energy transition."


Quote excerpt from : Energy Futures Initiative . Org

*** this site is NOT sanctioned/affiliated with the above. This is a freestyle - soul-refreshing outburst... on the matter / endeavor in which they work. of which I'm passionate about.***



We have orders to kidnap Angie Kaufman. AkA...
'Ak 47' Lethal Techniques to Speak... You to Death.
ie... Sifu Master of the Imperial Dragon's Fire Breath. Lowers your guard with her deceptive - still receptive... smile. Looks like 'Kim' from 8-Mile. except... she's not a blonde. Can we move on. There she is picking up trash from off of the lawn. Team 2... move in. Hold up. Who's that... that just rolled up. What are you talking about? Nobody's smoking. Pay attention. I'm talking about the lincoln towncar (with a remarkle sparkle - who's that detailer?). Hard to finish the freestyle - 17% of my pineal resources being pulled by a correlating thought - of editing this feature's future theatrical movie trailer.
Back to -

....According to this file & photo... "That's Velazquez".

First name... Sonya. Excuse me... Sonia. Looks fit like Isotonia. Maybe from Spain; Barcelonia. i dunno.

Speaking of bars...

Did i tell you (how many times) about the time i had Zinfidel wine with Jaffar - the weird goofy-azh alien
from Star Wars.

Back to bidness.

All Teams - keep your eyes/senses focused....
and locate "Moniz". Mister 'G' Particle WHiZ.

He may be accompanied by the vice-president.

The dossier indicates.... hold-up-a-sec... here it is;
that's Ambassador Madame Kenderdine.
Snatch her too.
"Commander, Commander. We got her on 'CAM'. Talking with someone - that might be her 'Boo' - what should we do? Give it 5 more minutes. If they have'nt concluded. Snatch her up anyway - along with who -as you said - might be "Pooh". Roger that. However, I actually said... 'Boo' - Just saying. Team 3. Come in Team 3. 'scrrtkciicck'... static... "Unit Omega, We're here." Hurry it up you guys.... locate Maranville. Another heart-warming grill. Still,... don't be fooled by the welcoming demeanor.
He's the analyst that added the last cubic-formulated
co-sign function to the

"Hezir-Squared Gh0st Phoenix Equation".

That's 'Montgomery'. How do you know that.
Saw her photo online. Plus, my bionic-artificial heart detected an adnormal spike and fluctuaction upon immediate visual confirmation. Something in my royal heritage : Recognizes... 'Majestic'. Is it politically in-correct - through accurate, to say... "Stunning". Our fuel cell's running at full capacity. However, apparently. My field reporting is draining alot of energy. Because of the incorrectly calibrated tone of this 'poems' reversed un-rehearsed flowology of magnified positive polarity. I know.

Could i write with more C L A R i T Y .

Less attempts at... hilarity. Could you spare me the critques - while i'm in the flux of battle. No problem - with criticism. It's just that - my knowledge of the future - has me concerned with the legislation currently in sub-committee. Plus, i'm due to rendevous with a NATO-alliance hunter-killer sub at 930. No, NOT the Club. That would really make a splash at the pub. As the waitresses bring out another round of tubs. Travelling back&fourth through time - has really magnified the essentiality for me to try and arrive early. Add to that. Hunted by enemies. Of which.... What the hell; there's goes ExxonMobile, BP and Royal Dutch Shell. Damn... "Danger, Will Robinson"... there's also Chevron.

"Cartier Santos (Overwatch)... You SEE This?!"   Transmit me a exit/escape plan lickey-quick -
like how 'Rebel X-D' aka Mark Thompson 'Spits'*.



Okay.... two blocks to Dupont Circle. Follow the gentleman wearing purple. Prince!? Rest in Peace.

[ Side Bar: I'm reeeally feeling this beat ]

the following is paramount....
We came from the near future.

We didn't come to shoot ya.

Well, some of you. The rude few crude
and cruel that tried to rule. The world.



Enslave the boys and play with the girls.
Before they're ready for those kinda
mind & body games.
I know - or should i say -

  "have been advised" to :

Stay in my lane.

Ain't it strange. Unlike the doctor.
The swirling helicopters and political optics;
cloudly a clear perspective on important topics.
His extravagant palatial yacht mooring in the simmering paradisial tropics. Hip-hip & Hop-scotch might get you Red Sea wet in these unstabilized federally-subsidized cosmopolitian urban projects.

Intervention is urgent.

My solar-powered time-machine invention
sent me to the 35th century. To a universalized governed celestial penitentiary. Where I worked on my penmanship and discarded chivarly.

My special delivery - convicted - while conflicted. Scripting lyrical mayhem for the men responsible for the May Day's Events that began the 1st wave of

The Ecological Freedom Movement ( EF- M ! ).

We already knew carbon-based burned fuel emissions contamination procedures needed radically dynamic massive improvement. Tesla's involvement - did not solve the escalating globally critically environmentally sensitive problem. 87 % of the population coughing - and it ain't Covid. 19 months. Soreness of throat - and it ain't caus we battl'in. Murder She Wrote. When she shared the Health Department's recommendations and quotes. On the tele-prompter and the clipboard she's holding with the official seal emblossened folders. Is it me - or is it getter colder inside of here.

Turn up more solar. As i cause haters to grind more molars. What else can the reporters write about.
The sexy latino's doing the weather. In retro tight flourescence lit-pink pleather. It's melting his benjamin-franklin american-flavored cheddar. There's an unexpected rise in today's temperture and unusual atmospheric conditions.

Orange snowflakes.

I'm thermo-nuclear.

Hey, some baking soda - for the odor. Pure on some borium. Please put that down you bumbling idiot. Not you MC... My assistant; Confusing the borium with thorium. It's my job - to destroy the auditorium. with my alchemy of auditory naughty. I have Madame President's Presidential Orders. Opps, let that slip. Be more careful about details of daugthers' realized visions. And future more educated political considerations when making voting decisions. Opps, again. Please, hand me another Montblanc. I bring the 'yet-to-be-patented' re-constituted amalgamated hi-grade mix of acoustical drama - added with salivating glands of humaniod-secreted genome-hyphenated hybrid plutomium. HSGHHP... "High-School" is the name given it by the laborious lab technicians. Never outta breath. Although my tenor's bingers are dedicateingly strenuous & very long-winded. It's my side-hustle to heat up the tropshere and decrease air density. Storms over Seven Seas. And sail the jet-streams. of multiple galaxies. I try to stick close to home. Enjoy spending my time-off on wind farms. I love the mountain tops overlooking Muppandal. I'm fighting pollution. Indigo & digital ink is part of the solution. Such a touchy subject - that's hard to handle. The extracted biologically corrosive petroluem solvents and chemicalized particles with a mix of poly-o-carbonated re-engineered synthentic plastics and drastic caustic acids attracted free-floating negative ion-magnetized proton fragments from deep within our geo-sphere's fission-inducting inner core - escalating already fermenting excited atomically domant ancient wave-form filament strands of radioactive elements. A dis-carded six-pack former holder of 8 ounze Pepsi sodas is strangle-holding one of Gaia's vital roots. The tsunami that trashed the Pacific rim was the hic-cup from the tetronic shift burlping fluke. Triggered by the detonation of nukes in the ocean's soup. A boiling hot crooked crock -pot brewing at Hell's Gate. Humanity's Fate.

Hannity's Fake ( & a snake).

It's was Sunday - the 7th of May. Mother's Day.
7:58 pm. Wait. There's more.

The conglomerate of - now concerned - nations sent
United Recon ScrewWorm 7 on an investigative



mission to explore. At 44.000 mera-fathoms... Communications with the crew was lost. Private investors were concerned about how to recoup the cost of financing the 800 billion they sourced. While they dangled food that looked like embryo Kiaju in cilantro-spiced brandy-wine tinged lobster sauce at the impaling end of the trident they held. That not-very-descriptive un-specific family of arthropoda that's sounds salvatingly delicious.

Not hard to figure.... Jigga's still aloft in his villa - meticulously minding his... "He's A" ( rhymes with 'VISA' ) business. Getting a thrill on working out soliciting a trillion.     Asking the cabal ( ssssshhh.... )

" What Comes After Trillion ? "

Like a greedy muther-phucka.

It's bleek in Memphis, Tennesee.  Really?   Really!?

Stealing a biscuit - might get you a 2-for-1 life-time prison sentence - if you're an impovished or -even- a well-educated nubian immigrant. Continuing the arrogrance and shades of my
own(it) mis-understandings and ignorance...

as i speed across the Verranzzano-Narrows Bridge away from Trump's tumbling columns of drama like I'm a well-composed fumbling Mike 'Dick' Pence.

[ * A note to 'behave'. Don't upset Republicans. Don't blind them to the fact that - I'm objective. We'll need their help in saving the planet. ]

Look across the locked linked fence - and through the sun rises & shines in King's County adjacent to Queens. The Brooklyn rooks crumble - and we see the scenes of sin on CNN, ABC, NBC - with Wizard Theodore*-inspired nightly spins - on the hordes crippled by the ozone's collapse - languishing in poverty - misery. ( * Place a 'Grand' in there - somewhere.) Two billion under-fed men, women
& children. In addition - multiplying the drama to the predictament -:

The conservative estimated calculation of



  I don't give a damn if they say that I'm villianous.

I'll kill ( that's a bit harsh. Maim. place under house-arrest )... every mutha's fuss'in cousin in the parading line of tour buses to rescue the blooming flower lost in the chaos of the storm's dust. Return with the muck of the crust as your mic rusts. Move this pile of damn sneakers and these got-damn timberlands. Commandeer the twin-tower Gemini Speakers. Show adolescent over-achiever how to properly operate her cleverly concealed 9mm caliber heater. You over there in suburbia - Slide over them Rockports 'Sport'. No refs on the court - Keep your rhetorical short. I'm still jealous of releasing the mic - you can get the chord. Wrapped for your raps.

Hello Feds: Please, continue to record.

I don't want my son 'MySun' to say - I'm lying. About the details i'll share - about how you was frying - in my denying you of replying; while you stood there saucy in the feces of your lyrical shitty diapers. Would you mind handing me that replacement

Amco typewriter. This one's spent. and bent.

I text freestyle fire hail-storms & inextinguishable flows without pre-drafted outlines and backspacing.

And profusively, apparently... NO spell-checking.
it's really un-necessary.

Ewe ontDerstan esZacklee whut ame Saiyan !

Sample Jay-Z....   "CRaZY !"

Wrecking emcees' unintentional nervous obfuscating.

I smell them defecating. < Nasty >  

Facing the direction of the solar flare heat- they're
tasting. Baking in the next communique
i'm despatching. 3.141592653589793238462643383 279502884197169399375105820974944592307816 406286208998628034825342117067982148086513 282306647093844609550582231725359408128481 117450284102701938521105559644622948954930 381964428810975665933446128475648233786783 165271201909145648566923460348610454326648 213393607260249141273724587006606315588174 881520920962829254091715364367892590360011 330530548820466521384146951941511609433057 270365759591953092186117381932611793105118 548074462379962749567351885752724891227938 183011949129833673362440656643086021394946 39522473719070217986094370277053...

i could finish (!) but, i'm tired of reaching my fingers up to the top of the keyboard. Plus. the number ain't really 'rhyming' !

Enjoy this slice of 'Pi' -
while the Earth's crust is getting flakey.

You're either 'ON' or 'OFF' the team.
NO iN-BEtween. Like the NBA... recruiting later-year aged teens. Ballas. They got steam. and Stamina. Plenty, know the difference between .22 and .45 caliber ammunition. I don't know where they acquired this information in there municipality's educational school system. Roastings in lunch-rooms. Their beat-boxing compatriot slash - Year Book Editor - slash - scholarly buffon. that's with fondness. Their clan - and blow-hards of a well-organized coalition of Marching Bands. Can with-stand the pressure-cooker of the concrete-jungle block/theater. The pressure of the clock & the three-point shot -- blast-zone of my flamboyant iambicpentameter. They've seen enough Netflix & sci-fi thrillers to understand my poetry.... understand me. No glimmer. Crystal clear. They understand "Securing the perimeter." When i scream "Stab the alien Vampire in his heart - which is located in his lower adobminal-plex...". There won't be any ridicuous 'Question Asking' or merely standing there shocked - like a phuckin statue. Just the opposite: 'Following Orders' enthusiastic tactical unleashings of massive amounts of urban-honed skillfully executed slashings & christmas-season gift-baskets handling of John Cena Marine-style ass-whoppings. Next-level... 'Call of Duty'. May I - train them. For the necessary Mayhem. without threat of appearing later... before a A military tribunal. A so-call jury of my peers. ( Wear more diamonds on their earlobes ). It won't be no... 5-Oh! -- We respect them. thems our bros. In fact. You're probably earn some well-deserved military jewelry. Serious Bling. The Platinum Heart. if you got the heart. Saving Your Planet... is more than a slogan. An exellcent place to start. WE REALLY NEED SOME HEROES. TRUST ME... you don't wanna live on asteroid CHDTVYUKE-47-0. No real social atmosphere. An artifical atmosphere. Taste like- driving through Orlando. Move fast. CASH APP : Cash-out on THAT!... you mineral-sucubus sucking inter-vortex piratetanian black-hole bastard! God damn write. I'm prejudice. I'm 100% for the humans. and the native inhabiting animal species, like my orca 'Chroma'; who i love so dearly. She taught me how to swim. When some Somalian pirates left me to die - drowning. After first clowning me. I told'em I'll git'em. before the tossed me - into the foam (as i recall this poam) into an angry sea. I digest. as i remember digesting the salty waters. Then came 'Shorty'... ie 'Roma'. I'm sorry... another story for another mooring. Continuing... this current timeline/freestyle...

Incineration of these parasitic-germ carrying interstellar misfit beotchs. that's not my typing. that's a software glitch. Jack and stash their still slightly-functional landing craft. Poor worksmanship. Get the lieutenant that handles linguistics to look at this console and decipher this terrible penmanship - quick.

"Sir, we've just recieved word - they've landed the bird that brought in the rounded-up members of EFi." Good. Make them comfortable in the penthouse suite. Give them something to drink. Something vegan to eat. Confiscate all on their cell phones, laptops, tablets. Destroy the apples. Locate the file named 'Project Adam's First Atom'. Have the dee-jay cue-up 'The National Anthem'. of all the nations. Put they all in rotation. and transmit over the moan-verse subatomic frequency. Where's my Hennessey. It seems like I'm a dictator when I'm pixelating my illustration. Hail 'Flash Vader'. Re-charge my phazers. My whack emcee vocabulary re-calibrator.

Can you politely - with a measure of authority - ask your wives & girlfriends to please remain standing behind the perimeter-denoting carnary-colored tape.

It's for 'Caution'. I don't want to be blamed ( again ) for injuries caused by women who crushed-up against my concealed-carry sharpened shuriken.

"I ain't trying to be fake wrestling" is a line
by Nameless Savage.

My partners are'nt average. As pollutants continue to ravish the planet; We institute an offensive forward attack mission ----- to gain an advantage.

Back from the near future .     SOLARIZED.

i DONT APOLOGiZE. when I said it - I meant it.
Old School rules..... I'm here to represent this.
You won't catch me talking to much chit-chat on insta-something. I'll be all up in your chest - thumping - like the bass - and the flow in your aortic chamber. Till i interupt the function. You're lunching. And unemployed. Agents have been deployed. Oh Boooy. Here, we go again. With your begging and whining. You should have considered before-hand Stan-like-fan... the percieviously published documented undesirable consequences of the ignorant content of your Mc-Donald's dissing



The flow's off-timing. The lack of sparkle in dem bars - No swag to be found at all. No kind of shine-y. Not even a radiant glare in the zirconian diamonds. What exactly - was we listening and waiting for - for sure? As you drift demore, and further from shore. I pour more pure ethanol alcohol into the wound around your mixing board. Consume the oxygen in the room to prepare for the doom as the monster looms. As emcees shit in their fruit-o-looms. I do the job of the dismissed platoon. My ego balloons as i enjoy the



cartoon drawn by a fan from one of Jupiter's Moons. Man the harpoons -

  here comes Lizzo . Rock & Roll, disco.

Burn with turbo-vented, re-circulated, industrial furnace amplified Crisco, and wade across

the River Jordan - in a new pair of Air Solar's. This swoosh reminds of - how I gave the punk-bastard Satan a scar; in our last bar fight outside of a skanky-bar on the outskirts of Tuscaloosa.
Messin' with some bamas. He almost caught the hammer. And I gave the Holy Ghost the 'night-off' that night. So he wouldn't have to bear witness - to the spite injected into my borrowed Sensei's astrally-projecting cordless mic.

Three strikes you'll out.

When the sun's out - make hay.

When earth's satelite illuminates the night sky -
my shinobi are on the way.


SOLAR FLARE DRAMA ILLUMINATION

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* An Amazing 683 Syllables in 54.5 Seconds! PROPS / Salute : )