Is you is or is you ain't my ham hots?

We see: a guy playing a zheng with a beautiful, brown mullet, down past his shoulders. [Tight shot] He sweeps his hair behind his right shoulder and keeps playing, revealing [pulling back] a full Gamelan, players in Javanese formal wear, mid-song. They don't play together, or separately, but God works the 1 & 2s, mixing them completely in or completely out – zheng, Gamelan, zheng, Gamelan.

The zheng player dyes his hair red and puts on a track suit - bright red with a yellow band around the tummy.

We zoom out and pan left [East], towards the river valley, with a purple gel over everything.

The valley is eating ham hots and its hands have some shit on them from the last time the valley defecated. The combination of shit and ham hots doesn't bother the valley, but eventually, the valley will vomit. The tongue of the valley abuts railroad tracks, which coincidentally are along the river and across from the end of a ski slope, which the zheng player once saw on vacation.

The zheng player is getting ever more energy now, he's sawing and saying things to himself, he's contacted a koto player about rectifying some mistakes, and the valley sidles over to him.

"Pretty tune."

The zheng player turns and responds, but his response is lost to history because God has faded him down.

"Okay." says the valley. The valley goes back to eating some organic shredded wheat with a really large spoon. The milk is bluish-purple, and the zheng player thinks about bleaching or dying his hair again.

All is quiet and precious in the valley once again. The valley relaxes and thinks ahead to its next meal.

(copied from a notebook in the relative dark)