Title: “PEZ Head City: Absolute Final Auction of the Apocalypse (Going Once, Going Twice, Going Forever)” (Auctioneer-Eminem rapid-fire delivery meets Beck’s slacker-surreal folk-rap bounce meets Jim Morrison’s lizard-king shamanic wail. Spoken-word end-of-the-world status updates drop in like broken emergency radio from a collapsing control tower. Every single visual detail from the PEZ Head City fever-dream is named, twisted, and auctioned off in denser-than-osmium wordplay.) (OPENING SPOKEN-WORD ANNOUNCEMENT – cold, crackling, warped radio auctioneer voice with distant foghorn and static) Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of the terminal zone, This is your final status report from the PEZ Head City Control Tower. Earth’s magnetic field has officially flipped its rainbow spine. Black water now 100% pure bin-Laden-grin viscosity. Towers currently folding at 47 origami folds per second. Grim Reaper’s tuxedo is pressed and his bong is lit. We are now accepting final bids on the end of everything. Going once… going twice… (VERSE 1 – Auctioneer Eminem machine-gun flow over Beck’s acoustic-synth sea-shanty bounce, Morrison lizard poetry weaving through) Yeah, step right up, bid high, bid low, bid the black water’s oily grin Where the PEZ head skyscrapers open their plastic jaws and spit dead-flesh confetti again and again and again Tower one folding like a paper ant mid-orgasm, tower two origami-kicking its own foundation in Hindenburg skeleton floating on butterfly wings that look like they got painted by a Jurassic Pretzel King Earth’s magnetic rainbow dripping rot like a candy-coated corpse in a PEZ slot Grim Reaper house-call, tuxedo sharp as a guillotine, bong-hit from the smokestack, smoke rings forming the word “NOT” 747 insect with twenty thousand insect legs humping the Titanic’s flesh-smokestack side Sexy dancer legs twice as long, three times mean, kicking New York buildings till they melt into french-fry tide Hamburger God with bulging graffiti eyes exploding Death-Star style, fries raining like nuclear confetti from the sky Ronald-style clown jetpack blazing, clown ass on fire, Mr. Mucus Rambo gas-mask blast turning the clouds into mucus pie Sgt. Pepper ghosts doing the Jurassic sand-dance on Hindenburg bones, apple-doll planet spinning in their hands Chemtrail lips belching cig-smoke, Inspector Gadget twisted into a pretzel, cripples crawling on hands only across the static land Bird feathers raining like soft static snow on the deck where the decks are already split Bid higher, motherfuckers, the water’s blacker than a family secret Towers finger-duck the sky so high the sky itself starts to forget (CHORUS – Morrison wail layered under Mansonesque desert chant, auctioneer speed-rap interjections) Oh the towers finger-duck the sky so high! (bid higher!) Grim Reaper’s tuxedo, bong rip from the thigh! (going once!) Rainbow rotten, dripping dead-meat confetti! (going twice!) Ants with extra legs marching out the PEZ head city! (sold to the void!) Titanic anglerfish with stumps for stacks, gas-masked skulls grinning wide Marilyn balloon tips spinning shotgun torment, split the decks, crack the hull with jammer-wave tide Earth’s field flips, black bow drips straight to the graves This is the absolute final auction of the end of days (SPOKEN-WORD STATUS UPDATE 2 – even weirder, more broken, like a dying auctioneer on mushrooms) Status update from the Magnetic Rainbow Control Booth: Current end-of-world percentage: 98.7% and climbing. PEZ candy production now exclusively dead-flesh confetti. Butterfly wings have been reclassified as “Hindenburg paint jobs.” All remaining dancers’ legs have elongated past legal limits. Grim Reaper has completed his selfie. Flash was nuclear. We are now selling the last remaining breaths. Starting bid: your soul. Going once… going twice… going into the static… (VERSE 2 – faster, Beck sea-shanty bounce colliding with Morrison haze and Eminem denseness) Giant Marilyn crab-head swallowing the smokestack so deep the smokestack starts praying Hindenburg skeleton cabling the lift from the creep while paper planes punch holes in the sky like they’re paying Bin-Laden-severed drag ghost flying the contrail flag, buildings peeling floors like veins exposed in bloody rain Ants leg-dancing in the red liquid, four Titanics tower-tall, half-split skeletal, opposite paint job insane Leather wings flapping away carrying dancer butts beautiful and vast as continents Pretzel monkeys twisting in the nuclear blast while tree-stump hands claw the air like they’re collecting rent Anglerfish tilt-leg rage, Christmas lights glowing gigantic on the hanging cage Surgeon hand slices wing, jet fuel screams, PEZ candy bursts from the round-hole dream stage Bid on the crab-head! Bid on the stump hands! Bid on the magnetic fray! Everything’s for sale in PEZ Head City on the last auction day! (CHORUS – louder, more layered, auctioneer calling the room into chaos) Oh the towers linger the sky so high!
