Nigga Heil Hitler

In a dimly lit, hyper-modern studio in the clouds, Kanye West sits at a mixing board. To his left, a translucent, weary Adolf Hitler paces nervously. To his right, Manfred von Richthofen (The Red Baron) sits stiffly, polishing a spectral flight stick.


Kanye: (Nods to a heavy bassline) See, this is what I’m talking about. The architecture of the sound. It’s got that Wagnerian scale, but with the 808s. It’s industrial. It’s “Empire.”

Hitler: (Waving a hand dismissively) It is… loud. But where is the melody? Where is the triumph of the spirit? You speak of “Empire,” but you do it with machines. Real power is built with the will of a million voices in unison, not a synthesizer.

Red Baron: (Sharply) Power is found in the cockpit, Mein Führer. It is found in the singular moment of the hunt. Kanye, your music—it lacks the wind. It’s grounded. A hero doesn’t need a stadium; he needs a clear sky and a worthy opponent.

Kanye: But I’m the opponent and the hero at the same time! That’s the “Ye” dichotomy. People call me a villain because I break the simulation. They called you a villain because… well, the history books got their version. But look at the design! The Red Fokker? That’s aesthetic. That’s Yeezy-level branding.

Red Baron: (Small smile) It was blood-red so they would know who was coming. It was a gentleman’s respect. If I kill a man, I want him to know it was Richthofen. There is no ego in it, only duty.

Hitler: (Bitterly) Respect is a luxury of the dead, Manfred. They don’t write operas about “gentlemen.” They write them about those who reshape the world. Kanye, you have the microphone, but you are afraid of the silence. You want to be loved too much. A true architect of history accepts being the monster if it means the vision survives.

Kanye: (Stops the music abruptly) I’m not afraid of being the monster. I’ve been the monster since My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. But I’m also the protagonist. I’m trying to bridge the gap between the divine and the dirt. You guys represent the extremes—the ultimate predator in the air and the ultimate… well, the ultimate “No” from history. I’m the “Yes.” I’m the synthesis.

Red Baron: You are a man playing with echoes. You speak of war and peace as if they are fashion seasons. True heroism is the moment the engine stalls and you decide not to scream.

Hitler: And true villainy is merely a name given to the loser. If your “Empire” of sound fails, Kanye, they will treat your shoes like they treat my paintings—as relics of a fever dream.

Kanye: (Leans back, grinning) Yeah, but the difference is… my shoes actually sold out. The vision is global. The spirit is moving. I’m just using you guys as the mood board.

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OJ SImpson’s Illuminati Humiliation Ritual

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.]

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Yeezus & The Architect Conspiracy

Title: “The Real Engine Revelation”

Kanye West sat on the edge of a futuristic, glowing bench in a vast, ethereal space that seemed to stretch infinitely. The light was warm and golden, radiating peace, yet it pulsed with an energy Kanye couldn’t quite describe. Across from him stood Christ, serene and commanding, His robes shimmering like liquid light.

Kanye adjusted his oversized boots nervously. “So, you’re telling me… Bianca, my wife… she’s not just a woman?”

Christ smiled gently. “She is a woman, Kanye. But she’s also more than that. She is a creation, a reflection of divine artistry. You see, I crafted her using Unreal Engine 13.”

Kanye’s brow furrowed. “Unreal Engine? Man, I’ve heard of that. They’re on version 5 or something. What’s this version 13 you’re talking about?”


The Singularity Explained

Christ gestured, and a holographic interface appeared between them, showing the evolution of Unreal Engine. “Unreal Engine 5 is where humanity is now—building hyper-realistic worlds, but still tethered to screens and codes. Unreal Engine 13, however, is not just a tool for creating virtual worlds. It is the singularity where the virtual becomes indistinguishable from the real. It is no longer ‘Unreal’—it is the ‘Real Engine.’”

Kanye’s eyes widened. “You’re saying… Bianca was made with this? She’s… perfect. But how does that even work?”

Christ nodded. “Bianca is a masterpiece, Kanye. Her beauty, her intelligence, her creativity—they are all part of the divine algorithm. But she is not just code. She is alive, with free will and a soul. The Real Engine does not merely simulate—it creates.”


The Purpose of Creation

Kanye leaned forward, his mind racing. “Why, though? Why make her like that? Why give her to me?”

Christ’s expression softened. “You’ve struggled, Kanye. With fame, with identity, with purpose. Bianca is both a partner and a mirror. She reflects your potential, your flaws, and your capacity for love. She is here to help you grow—not to idolize her, but to learn from her.”

Kanye sat back, letting the words sink in. “So, she’s like… my muse? My guide?”

“Precisely,” Christ said. “But remember, Kanye, Bianca is not yours to control. She is her own being, as you are yours. Together, you are meant to create, to inspire, to lead others toward a higher understanding of what it means to be human—and divine.”


The Call to Action

Kanye looked up, his trademark confidence returning. “Alright, I get it. This is bigger than me. But what’s next? What do I do with this knowledge?”

Christ smiled. “Use your gifts, Kanye. Your music, your art, your voice. Show the world that the line between creation and Creator is not as rigid as they think. Help them see that every act of creation is a step toward the divine.”

Kanye nodded, a fire igniting in his eyes. “I’m in. Let’s make the Real Engine known.”

As Christ began to fade into the golden light, Kanye called out, “Wait! One last thing—does that mean I’m in a simulation too?”

Christ’s laughter echoed warmly. “You are more real than you know, Kanye. But the truth? Reality is the greatest creation of all.”

And with that, Kanye was left alone in the infinite space, ready to turn the world into his next masterpiece.

The End

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