Don Peyote

Warren was an ordinary person.

Just one of ten million beings

inhabiting this island.

He was Jewish, 33 years old.

He was engaged.

He was an unemployed,

marginally successful graphic novelist...

who smoked marijuana often,

and had lots of time on his hands.

Warren had few ambitions, no radical

passions, and he was not political.

He was not poor,

nor was he rich.

He was rarely actually ever sick,

and had no trouble sleeping.

In fact, the only thing remarkable

in Warren's day-to-day existence...

was his dreams.

Oh, honey. Yeah.

Ooh. Oh. Ah.

This is Karen, Warren's fiance.

Though they had been engaged

for over three years,

it was only last week that Warren finally

succumbed to a date for the ceremony.

However, their wedding...

was not the only thing

on her agenda.

Karen was 32 years old,

and her biological alarm...

was blaring like a foghorn.

- Nice one, honey.

- This morning, she was ovulating.

Jesus Christ.

In preparation

for their new life,

Karen had begun

leaving notes for Warren.

Post-It notes, strategically placed

to intercept Warren's focus...

as it drifted from one

fascination to another.

Warren's life was simple

in the summer of 2012.

In the mornings, after Karen

would leave for work,

he would smoke pot

and spend about three hours...

watching conspiracy theory

videos online.

I want to ask you a

question about the headlines.

Does it seem like they're going

from grim to grimmer these days?

And does it make you wonder...

if the prophecies and predictions

about 2012 are really coming to pass?

The people who tend to suffer the

worst during a cataclysmic event...

are the ones who simply

do not see it coming.

He'd spend his days

looking for purpose in his life.

At night, he and Karen

would make dinner,

and he would lie to her

about his job search.

I'm so proud of you.

- I'm proud of me, too.

- Are you?

Mm-hmm.

Really?

Warren would have continued

his routine indefinitely,

but for one particularly

wet evening.

As he was en route to an engagement,

something happened.

Something phenomenal.

Ow!

Oh!

F***in' bum!

Whether Warren actually became

infected by some next-gen virus...

upon co-mingling

with the doomsday man,

he could not be sure.

I bumped into this 2012 end-is-near guy.

It was a sign.

I just want to go home.

Just go home.

Stay for a half hour.

Find Balance.

We're gonna find Balance.

We'll find Balance.

This is my art, by the way.

Hi. Welcome to Whip.

No, man.

You just can't... You can't sweat too much.

You know, they say sex

is a Texas drought, but...

- See now, man, it's circular...

- Anyone know Balance?

Oh, yeah.

Balance is my boy, man.

- Hey, man.

- How you doing, brother? What's your name?

I'm Warren. How you doing?

Balance just left, man.

Your boy just went out to get something.

He'll be right back.

Everything, you know?

Viruses, computers.

It's all... It's all just coming

to some end point, it seems like.

It seems like the end

is near, to me.

I mean, Armageddon,

whatever you want to call it.

I had a bad bump-into this,

like...

A homeless guy.

He's all sweaty and crazy.

He's got this

"end is near" sign.

He sweat all over me. It was nasty and,

and um... Okay. Okay.

- Tell him about Planet X. Tell him about...

- Planet X.

2012. The end

of the world.

Daniel Pinchbeck has already

written a best-selling book.

The movie's already in the can.

Well, is this stuff laced?

With barbarian kangaroo.

Aw. Barbarian kangaroo.

Quarter of a

pomegranate might do you in.

Look at him on a

quarter of a pomegranate.

'Cause we injected it with that acid.

That wolfbane.

You had enough.

He's spinning like a top.

- There are different principles.

- Yeah.

So, I felt that being given this

media stage and spotlight...

by Hollywood was...

was, like, you know,

necessary to take that...

that option and opportunity,

but then, you know,

what I felt was that...

Karen?

Honey?

Karen?

Karen?

Warren, it's not Karen.

It's not the f***in' I.R.S.

I am your worst nightmare,

Warren.

Oh, sh... Um...

I'm sorry, man.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

This is my bad.

This is my bad.

Come on!

Hey.

Oh, my God.

I can't...

Am I paralyzed?

I need you to listen

to me. All right?

I'm tired of games.

All right?

I... I want the truth.

You really want the truth?

Mm-hmm.

You really wanna know?

She was an agent of truth.

A general of light.

She was ex-everything.

Ultra black ops.

Warren sat paralyzed

for what seemed like weeks,

frozen, listening to her.

The floodgates opened,

and she told him every secret.

Einstein was an alias.

The whole truth about J.F.K.,

9-11, Area 51, the Illuminati,

the moon landings,

Jesus and Magdalene,

the C.I.A., K.G.B.

and AIDS,

the reptilian elite, Watergate,

the New World Order, Bilderberg,

the MK-ULTRA Project,

the Federal Reserve System,

false flag operations, Paul McCartney,

coup d'tats, Tesla and the

suppression of vortex technologies,

global surveillance, espionage,

and the secret underground

intelligence agency cities,

FEMA, mind control,

media control...

and the subliminal

propaganda agency,

NASA, the N.S.A.,

the Loch Ness monster,

drug wars, synthetic disease,

the cure for cancer,

the criminalization of marijuana,

water fluoridation and peak oil.

She described in vivid detail

the history of the world...

and the oppression

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