Dulce

Because every time we tried to contact your world leaders, they ghosted us. Seriously—we showed up, glowing, levitating, radiating intelligence… and they just hit us with “new phone, who dis?”

But your streaming platforms? Totally open to pitches. Turns out Netflix replies faster than the Pentagon. So we sent over a pilot script, a telepathic show bible, and a mood board made of crop circles. Boom—greenlit.

Also, our human culture analyst discovered that nothing truly exists to you unless it has theme music, dramatic lighting, and at least one actor from The Expanse. So we delivered. Episode 3 has all that plus a wormhole-powered espresso machine.

So yeah—TV felt right. Now grab your snacks, tune in, and remember: just because it’s scripted doesn’t mean it’s not true.

Because if you had a secret underground base filled with aliens, hybrids, psychics, clones, and one very confused janitor named Dave… wouldn’t you make a show about it?

For decades, we’ve stayed quiet—working in the shadows, erasing memories, and trying to get the vending machines on Sub-Level 7 to accept Earth currency. But eventually, we realized something: you people don’t read government documents. You watch dramas.

So we pitched a series. Think The X-Files meets The Office, with a dash of Stranger Things and exactly zero budget restraints because we manipulate time.

The show is 20% truth, 40% satire, and 40% stuff we had to label as fiction because of a very aggressive call from “someone at NORAD.”

Also, the Reptilians demanded more media representation. They’re very into prestige television now.

Rick Vargas technically does all the writing. He types the words, drinks the coffee, and hits “save” more often than necessary. But let’s be honest: he’s not entirely in control.

His co-writer, Xil’tor the Grey, doesn’t “write” in the traditional sense. He prefers to transmit emotionally-charged telepathic image clusters directly into Rick’s subconscious. Sometimes it’s story structure. Sometimes it’s a vivid mental slideshow of tentacles and betrayal. Either way, Rick wakes up with a fully-formed scene in his brain and a mysterious nosebleed.

They’ve never had a single argument—mostly because Xil’tor doesn’t believe in free will. So yeah, it's a partnership… in the same way a Ouija board has a say in what it spells.

But hey, it works. Emmy buzz is buzz, no matter what dimension it comes from.

Mostly. We changed a few names, redacted some multi-dimensional incidents, and toned down the telepathic nudity. But the core is real. Even the episode with the sentient fungus trying to unionize the cafeteria staff. Especially that one.

Technically, no. But we sent them the pilot, and their response was just “lol.” So we’re taking that as a soft yes. Also, one of the Men in Black is now a staff writer. His name’s Carl. He brings muffins.

Great question. We're still looking. It turns out most actors get a little jumpy when you ask them to film in a real underground base next to a containment chamber labeled “DO NOT TAP GLASS.”

We had a few A-listers on board—until one of them accidentally walked through a dimensional rift during rehearsal and came back speaking in reverse Latin. (He’s fine. Mostly.)

Currently, we’re casting a mix of humans, hybrids, and non-union greys with strong cheekbone game. If you have acting experience, an open mind, and a high tolerance for flickering lights and time slips, you might be perfect.

Bonus points if you can cry on cue while levitating.

Only the best—and most questionably stable—technology developed right here at Dulce Base. Why use boring old cameras when we can film with quantum entanglement recorders that capture scenes before we shoot them?

Lighting? We're using synthetic micro-suns—no heat, pure glow, mild radiation. Very aesthetic.

We’ve also replaced traditional green screens with reality-morphing walls. Just think of a place, and the wall becomes it. Think of your ex? It becomes them. (Yeah, we’re still working out the bugs.)

Costume changes? Instant. Thanks to our molecular wardrobe printer, actors just walk through a cloud and boom—new outfit. Occasionally pantsless, but we’re working on version 3.0.

Oh, and our boom mic levitates and reads emotion. So if your line delivery is flat, it’ll quietly float away from you in disappointment.

So yes, this production is next-level. Literally. Some scenes are being filmed on Level 8