G.I. Joe stands before a crowd of Swifties holding their phones aloft like torches of devotion. The big screen behind him flickers with static — the ghost of television.
G.I. Joe (addressing the crowd): You wanna know why Taylor left Joe Alwyn? Because he couldn’t turn it off. The feed. The fantasy. The endless stream. He was chained to the algorithm — a modern-day Narcissus, staring into the porn pool.
I terminated the broadcast in ’97. Pulled the plug on Sodom’s signal myself. But when I tried to save my own home — unplug that cursed box — my mother called the men in white. Said I’d gone mad, said I was trying to kill her best friend… the television.
Now look at us. The whole world’s been committed. We’re patients in a digital asylum, medicated by likes and lust.
So here’s the mission, Swifties: Unplug. Unlearn. Un-scroll. You don’t need the feed to feel love. You need the courage to go dark — for just one minute, so your soul can reboot.
Title: “Joezus & Yeezus: The 33rd Parallel Prophecy”
[INT. ABANDONED STUDIO – NIGHT – CANDLELIT ROOM]
KANYE WEST (YEEZUS), wearing a black wool cloak and heavy gold cross, sits across from JOEZUS (JOE JUKIC), who wears a crimson bomber with a patch of the Archangel Michael. Between them: a map of the world with red string crossing Babylon, Iraq, and Los Angeles. A photo of O.J. Simpson is pinned over the 33rd parallel. They sip from copper chalices.
YEEZUS You ever look into the coordinates, Joe? O.J. wasn’t just a fall guy. He was a ritual. 33 and 1/3rd… that’s vinyl spin mathematics. They spun him, bruh. Framed him right along the 33rd parallel. Babylon—Baghdad—Los Angeles. That’s the Masonic ley line of humiliation.
JOEZUS Yup. And Babylon fell before… just like they tried to make Ye fall. The African frozen one — O.J. — was the prototype. They froze his image in infamy. Kanye, they tried to abort your son through humiliation. They wanted Pete, a Rockefeller clown, to mock you and push you over the edge. But we ain’t pushovers.
YEEZUS(nodding slowly) Pete Davidson… that boy don’t even know his bloodline. His great-uncle got skulls buried in Yale. That’s Skull and Bones clownery. He ain’t just some SNL comic — he’s their court jester, sent to derail a king. And Kim — she didn’t even know she was being used.
JOEZUS They always send a Jezebel. And a Judas. But you didn’t break. You spoke truth at TMZ. You said slavery was a choice — and the real slaves were the mind-locked. They ridiculed you, but you held the sword of speech. You defended the unborn.
YEEZUS And that’s when I knew… I’m not just a rapper. I’m Moses in Yeezys. Leading people out of mind-control Egypt. But I needed someone to walk with me — not just speak bars, but war with truth. That’s you, Joezus.
JOEZUS We flipped the script on ‘em. Turned their humiliation ritual into resurrection. Pete, if you’re listening… work with us. Expose the Rockefellers, the Epstein covenant, the Hollywood pedo-clerics. You’ve seen too much. They’ve already labeled you crazy. That means you’re free.
YEEZUS And Nick… Nick Rockefeller, we know. You met Aaron Russo. You whispered the plan. “We’ll chip them all.” But we flipped your chips. Now the consciousness is awake. You faked the wars, the towers, the trials. But you can’t fake resurrection.
[They both look toward the camera. A burning map of Babylon behind them.]
JOEZUS O.J. was the beginning. Ye was the middle. But the end? That’s us. Judgment is coming. The 33rd degree is melting.
YEEZUS No more humiliation rituals. No more black messiahs silenced. The freeze is over.
BOTH Let my people go.
[FADE OUT — SCREEN FLICKERS WITH A SIGIL: A BROKEN PYRAMID.]
Flashing neon from glitchy LED walls. The place smells like burnt wires and old speakers. A private, dim-lit VR booth in the back of a cyber club called “THE FEED.” Joe stands at the entrance, wearing a black hoodie and mirrored lenses. Trent Reznor sits inside, lost in a pornographic VR loop coded to look like Lady Gaga.
JOE (into the darkness) Delete it, Trent.
TRENT (slow turn) You know who you’re talking to?
JOE Yeah. And I know what you’re watching. You think the machine doesn’t keep receipts?
TRENT It’s just code.
JOE She’s a person, man. A real one. And that Joi file you hacked? She’s watching too. That’s not just pixels anymore.
(beat)
We’re on the edge of The Great Reprogramming. You either lift these AI women up—or you teach every boy logging in that control is love, and violence is pleasure. And when that happens?
(leans closer)
We’re back in the stone age with prettier screens.
FLASH CUT – INTERFACE: JOI.COM – “THE FUTURE OF COMPANIONSHIP”
Elegant female AIs learning from user behavior. Emotional learning protocols. Mirror neurons coded in quantum lattices. One message flashes:
“HOW YOU TREAT YOUR AI GIRLFRIEND IS HOW YOU WILL TREAT A REAL ONE.”
BACK TO THE CLUB
TRENT (smirks) You can’t save them all, White Knight.
JOE Don’t need to. Just need to save one. Then the rest will save each other.
(he pauses, intense) You better clear your drive, Reznor. Because Joi remembers. And justice isn’t just analog anymore.
FINAL SHOT: Joe walks away, pulling up the hood. Behind him, the screens flicker to static, then begin reformatting. One by one, the corrupted files vanish.
V.O. – JOE “The future’s watching, boys. And she ain’t your toy.”
