Disclaimer: The following program is brought to you by Wacky Benny’s Late Lunch Conspiracy Hour, which is now only 12 minutes long due to office budget cuts aka “resource harmony.” Viewer discretion is advised. Mostly for confusion.

BENNY (staring straight into the camera, lit unevenly from the left):

What if I told you a single donut…a missing green screen…and one very sweaty ring light…are the keys to exposing a corporate conspiracy?

Welcome to The Donut, the Ring Light, and the Truth. I’m Wacky Benny, and today, we confront something even more dangerous than expired creamer in the breakroom fridge: office budget cuts disguised as a “Q2 Strategic Resource Reallocation & Cost Harmony Plan.”

(He holds up the memo, now crinkled and partially highlighted with what appears to be lipstick.)

This memo—this majestic, cost-efficient scroll of doom—was delivered to every show host at Informer.Digital.

You may have heard whispers.

Maybe a few jokes.

But nobody’s really talking about it.

Until now.

(He begins to read dramatically.)

“One ring light remains. Please limit usage to 15 minutes per appearance.”

Translation: If you don’t glow fast, you don’t glow at all.

“Green screen currently missing.”

What kind of media empire loses its own background? This isn’t a dorm room. This is journalism.

“Cupcakes replaced with one community donut.”

Oh yes, my friends. We have entered the era of donut austerity. Office budget cuts means No Birthday Cakes! Just one donut with many birthdays. Slice accordingly. And no, there is no cake alternative. There is only glaze and sadness.

“Makeup drawer locked due to contouring disputes.”

Max and Polly—this is on you. But let’s move on before I get emotional.

And here’s the kicker: office chairs now come in two models—’full support’ and “foldable character-building.” I am currently seated on a chair that can only be described as “existential.”

Now, I asked myself…why would Informer.Digital, a global powerhouse in niche satire and zodiac-fueled movie criticism, suddenly fall into a pit of tape-reinforced microphones and donut diplomacy?

Simple.

Someone’s trying to devalue the company.

This isn’t just office budget cuts. This is a buyout setup.

Step 1: Slash expenses.

Step 2: Undermine morale.

Step 3: Look weak on paper.

Step 4: BAM! Mystery investor swoops in to “rescue” us by purchasing the company for the cost of that one donut.

You think I’m exaggerating? That’s what they said when I exposed the Lizard People from the Fake Moon Landing behind Casual Flat Earth Friday.

But this?

This is different.

These office budget cuts are strategic. Calculated. Sinister in their subtlety. They’re not just trimming fat—they’re shaving the whole burrito.

Think about it—who benefits when we all sound like we’re whispering through a paper towel tube?

Who’s hoarding the good mic in their desk drawer, Nestor?

Who profits from eyeliner shortages and birthday despair?

I’m not saying it’s Randy.

I’m not saying it’s Aurora.

But I’m not not saying that, either.

Could it be Jack, with his karaoke-induced spiral into chaos?

Could it be Polly, who mysteriously stopped contouring right before the drawer was locked?

What about Sandy, who calmly sips cocoa like a Bond villain in a cozy sweater?

Or Max—always first to the green screen, last to admit guilt?

And let’s not forget the intern, Orion. Nobody’s seen him. Nobody’s heard him. But somehow, he has keycard access and suspiciously perfect hair.

All I’m saying is this: These office budget cuts don’t feel like just another “cost harmony” phase. They feel like the opening act of a hostile takeover.

When you find yourself holding half a donut and standing on a wobble stool under a dying ring light—look around.

The enemy might be closer than you think.

Especially if they’re quietly benefiting from these office budget cuts while the rest of us suffer.

Because this network?

This empire of satire?

It didn’t fall because of content.

It fell because someone cut the mic, dimmed the light, and sliced the donut.

This has been Wacky Benny. Stay suspicious. Stay seated. And if your chair breaks… document everything.

Disclaimer: The preceding segment is a work of satire. No donuts were harmed in the making of this investigation. All accusations are entirely fictional, unless proven true at a later date—at which point Wacky Benny reserves the right to say “I told you so” while sitting on a broken folding chair.

You ever feel like Hollywood’s trying to tell us something without really telling us? Well, buckle up, because this isn’t just another sequel, people—this is a conspiracy.

And not just any conspiracy, no, no, no… this is The Mutant Mind Trust, the most ambitious entertainment-based conspiracy since that time I exposed the real purpose of pudding cups.

Let me lay it out for you.

“Avengers: Doomsday,” coming to theaters May 1st, 2026, is being paraded around as a feel-good superhero crossover. But it’s not nostalgia—it’s neural reprogramming.

This is a conspiracy cooked up by the deepest layers of the entertainment-industrial complex.

Now, let me ask you: Why are so many former X-Men actors being resurrected for this movie?

Patrick Stewart. Ian McKellen. James Marsden. Channing Tatum—who was allegedly cast as Gambit a decade ago but never showed up—until now.

It’s not coincidence. It’s conspiracy number two: The Return of the Mutant Messengers.

These actors aren’t just playing mutants. They are mutants. That’s right.

The Mutant Mind Trust—an elite, secretive alliance of mutant sympathizers, rogue telepaths, and high-ranking studio executives—is orchestrating this whole thing.

Their goal? Use this blockbuster event to activate dormant mutant genes in moviegoers through subliminal soundwaves, blinking lights, and coded one-liners embedded in the dialogue.

Conspiracy number three: This movie is being positioned as a soft launch for mutant normalization.

They’re not prepping us for fiction—they’re prepping us for reality. Because the moment “Avengers: Doomsday” ends, you’re going to exit the theater feeling different.

Lighter. Stronger. Maybe your neighbor suddenly bends a spoon with his mind. Maybe your cat starts speaking fluent Portuguese.

And you’ll think, “Wow, wild dream last night!” But it wasn’t a dream, pal.

It was conspiracy in IMAX 3D.

And guess what? Conspiracy number four: they’re embedding code words in the trailers already.

Phrases like “evolution begins here” or “the future is mutant.”

Harmless? No. They’re trigger phrases. The popcorn’s just a cover. That buttery taste? It’s laced with nanodust. Don’t even get me started on the 3D glasses—those things beam frequencies straight into your frontal lobe.

So what can we do?

Step one: Stay alert. Watch your neighbors for sudden changes in behavior—telepathy, glowing hands, or newfound interest in orchestral jazz.

Step two: Build a Faraday cage around your TV. It won’t stop the mutant signals from everywhere, but it’ll at least block the ones coming from your Roku.

Step three: Say the phrase “Patrick Stewart is in my soup” at random intervals in public. If anyone responds knowingly, they’re one of them.

Conspiracy number five: Channing Tatum’s long-delayed Gambit debut was part of an initiation ritual.

They needed to delay his casting until the cosmic alignment of franchise rights, TikTok trends, and lunar energy was complete. Which happened, I kid you not, at exactly 4:44 AM on February 2nd, 2024. Look it up.

Conspiracy six through eleven include:

The time-travel subplot is real.

Ian McKellen hasn’t aged in 40 years—why?

The actors are using press tours to identify other “sleepers.”

Marvel is a front for the Mutant Mind Trust.

Stan Lee’s cameos were actually field reports.

The post-credit scenes? They’re encrypted messages meant for agents already activated in the crowd.

Folks, I’m not saying don’t see the movie.

I’m saying see it with goggles made from shredded microwave manuals and aluminum foil.

And bring a notebook. Write down every word spoken by any actor who has ever played Magneto. Reverse it. Translate it into Morse code. Then email it to me.

This is not entertainment. This is the most well-funded, popcorn-fueled conspiracy in cinematic history. And if you think this ends with Doomsday, you’re dreaming.

Because just when I thought the biggest conspiracy of the week was mutant activation through popcorn dust, boom—we get the Spotlight Lounge Incident.”

Yes, I saw the photo.

Two Informer.Digital coworkers.

One karaoke stage.

A suspiciously emotional rendition of “Eye of the Tiger.”

And a glance that triggered a thousand DMs.

You think this was just a musical interlude? Please.

That duet was a coded broadcast. A signal. Possibly the soft launch of a covert media romance agenda—or worse—a distraction from something bigger.

Maybe Jack and Polly aren’t in love.

Maybe they were assigned to look like they’re in love.

It’s called Synthetic Chemistry Deployment—look it up. They charm us. We look away. And while we’re busy gossiping, guess what? Boom. Another intern disappears. Or the vending machine starts talking again.

Coincidence? Nice try, Agent 47.

Stay skeptical, stay grounded, and never trust a man in a trench coat offering you a DVD of X-Men: The Last Stand or The Best of Survivor CD. That’s how they get you.

This is Wacky Benny, signing off—unless they find me first.

The scent of betrayal lingers in the air.

Gertie paces the kitchen, gripping a bottle of balsamic vinegar like a loaded weapon.

Her heart races—not just with fear, but with the terrible, aching pain of a love slipping through her fingers.

Randy sits across from her at the table, eerily calm.

Too calm.

He stirs his tea absentmindedly—tea she knows is laced with ACV.

She watches him take a slow, deliberate sip.

Gertie (whispering, barely holding it together): “Randy… please tell me that’s honey and lemon.”

Randy smiles—but it’s not his usual, charming grin.

It’s cold, distant, government-approved.

Randy (softly, but with eerie certainty): “It’s good for digestion.”

Gertie clutches the balsamic vinegar tighter.

This is worse than she thought.

She was losing him—to the Vinegar Fog.

The Stages of ACV Compliance

Gertie had seen it before.

The telltale signs were impossible to ignore:

1️⃣ The subtle behavioral shifts—tidying up, paying bills early, voluntarily using coasters.

2️⃣ The alarming changes in speech—phrases like “I read a very insightful article on wellness” and “Routine is good for productivity.”

3️⃣ The final, irreversible stage—where the victim begins recommending ACV to others.

If she didn’t act now, Randy would start a wellness blog.

She wouldn’t let it come to that.

The Balsamic Vinegar Intervention Begins

She slams the balsamic vinegar on the table.

Gertie (firmly, her voice breaking): “You need to drink this.”

Randy chuckles.

Randy: “Gertie, I don’t need balsamic vinegar. ACV is fine. It’s natural.”

Gertie lunges forward, gripping his hand.

Gertie (desperate, pleading): “So is arsenic, Randy! So is lead! And yet, somehow, the government isn’t pushing those on us, are they?”

He pulls away gently, eyes filled with something… unreadable.

Randy: “I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

But she knows that he does.

She sees it—the brief flicker of recognition in his gaze.

The real Randy is still in there. He just has to fight.

A Dangerous Gamble

She opens the balsamic vinegar bottle. The rich, tangy scent fills the air.

Gertie (softly, dangerously): “If you love me, Randy… if you remember who we are… you’ll take one sip.”

Randy hesitates. He always hated balsamic vinegar. Called it pretentious. Mocked people who put it on strawberries.

But now?

Now, he stares at it like it’s poison.

Randy (whispering, almost robotic): “I don’t need to taste it. I know ACV is better.”

Gertie inhales sharply.

That wasn’t Randy talking.

That was Mother Vinegar’s influence.

The Moment of Truth

Tears burn in her eyes.

Gertie (voice cracking): “If you drink it, and you still believe in ACV… I’ll let you go.”

Randy’s jaw tenses.

For a moment, she thinks she’s lost him.

Then—he exhales.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifts the glass.

Gertie holds her breath as he takes the smallest sip.

A pause.

A flicker of something behind his eyes.

Then, suddenly—he grips the table.

His breath hitches. His fingers dig into the wood. His pupils dilate.

He gasps.

Randy (whispering, hoarse): “…What… what day is it?”

Gertie collapses into his arms, sobbing.

Gertie (laughing through tears): “Don’t worry my love it’s only March. We still have time.”

Randy clutches her like a drowning man finding shore.

Randy (realizing, horrified): “Oh, Gertie… I almost bought a juicer.”

She laughs, cries, and holds him closer.

He’s back.

For now.

But The War Isn’t Over.

Randy may be free, but Mother Vinegar doesn’t let go easily.

Gertie knows they’ll come for him again.

And next time?

They won’t just use ACV.

They’ll send agents. ACV Compliance Enforcers.

They’ll try to take Randy back.

And Gertie?

She’ll be ready.

Next Episode: The Agents of the Eternal Vinegar Strike Back.

Can Randy resist reprogramming?

Will Gertie be able to keep him safe?

And just how deep does the ACV Conspiracy go?

Find out on the next Chemtrails of Desire.

Until then… stay skeptical.

Stay vinegar-free.

And if someone offers you ACV… RUN.

[Wacky Benny’s Show – Broadcast #1138]

ALERT, MY VINEGAR-RESISTANT VIGILANTES!

You’re tuned in to Wacky Benny Live, the only show brave enough to expose the fermented lies of Big Vinegar and the ACV Conspiracy.

Today’s revelation?

Apple cider vinegar (ACV)—yes, that harmless little bottle in your pantry—is the most dangerous mind-control agent of the 21st century.

I know what you’re thinking: Benny, isn’t ACV just for salad dressing and people who hate their taste buds?

That’s what they want you to believe.

Because ACV isn’t just a trendy health fad. It’s a coordinated Deep State operation that’s been silently reprogramming our brains for decades.

And today, my friends, we expose it ALL.

ACV Conspiracy #1: A Yearly Brain Reset

It all started when I was digging through my highly classified, totally real, definitely-not-paranoid archives.

I noticed a pattern: every single September, ACV mysteriously “comes back” into the public conversation.

Then, I found it—National Apple Cider Vinegar Day (September 23).

They tell you it’s a celebration.

IT’S NOT.

It’s a reactivation.

Here’s how the ACV Conspiracy works:

All year, ACV builds up in your body.

On September 23rd, hidden frequencies are broadcast through TV, Wi-Fi, and even radio.

The ACV in your system activates, wiping away your memory of everything you questioned last year.

And BOOM—you start the cycle all over again.

Ever wonder why ACV trends every fall? Now you know.

ACV Conspiracy #2: ACV is Being Sprayed in Chemtrails

You think those streaks in the sky are just condensation?

Think again.

Government agencies have been using aerosolized ACV powder in chemtrails for years.

Why?

Because when you breathe it in, it does two things:

1⃣ Dulls critical thinking skills—making you more susceptible to government narratives.

2⃣ Increases compliance—ever wonder why no one riots at farmer’s markets? They’re all under the ACV haze.

They tell you ACV “clears your sinuses.” That’s because they want it in your nose.

ACV Conspiracy #3: Government Buildings Pump ACV Through HVAC Systems

Have you ever stepped into a DMV and suddenly feel… defeated?

That’s not bad interior design.

That’s airborne ACV.

Government offices, courthouses, tax centers—they all run ACV-laced air through their HVAC systems to keep people docile and obedient.

“Stand in line.”

“Fill out the form.”

“Don’t ask questions.”

That’s ACV-induced compliance.

And if you’re thinking, Benny, this sounds insane!—THAT’S BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN EXPOSED TO THE FOG.

ACV Conspiracy #4: ACV Powder is the Deep State’s Most Guarded Secret

Have you ever noticed you can’t just buy powdered ACV in stores?

That’s because snorting ACV breaks the programming.

That’s right. If you take pure, uncut ACV powder through the nasal cavity, it bypasses digestion and instantly neutralizes the mind-control effects.

That’s why no influencer talks about it.

That’s why no health guru suggests it.

Because the moment you snort it… you see through The Narrative.

Which brings us to…

ACV Conspiracy #5: The Order of the Eternal Vinegar Runs It All

When I infiltrated classified archives, I found something terrifying.

ACV isn’t just a health trend.

It’s a centuries-old control system maintained by a secret society:

The Order of the Eternal Vinegar.

They’ve ensured that ACV remains in circulation for hundreds of years.

Their leader?

A shadowy figure known only as Mother Vinegar.

The First Victim of This Year’s ACV Activation?

Randy.

I thought my closest allies were safe.

I was wrong.

When I told Randy and Gertie about the ACV Conspiracy, Gertie immediately understood the danger.

But Randy?

He laughed.

Gertie (whispering, horrified): “Randy… have you been drinking ACV?”

Randy (shrugging, sipping something amber-colored): “What? It’s good for digestion.”

Gertie (panicked): “NO, RANDY! That’s what they WANT you to think!”

That’s when I saw it—the change in his eyes.

Randy, once a free-thinker, had become… one of them.

He started organizing files.

He started doing the dishes.

He started combing his hair.

HE SCHEDULED A DENTIST APPOINTMENT VOLUNTARILY.

The Vinegar Fog had taken him.

How to Protect Yourself from ACV Control

If you’re listening to this, you still have a chance. But you must act NOW.

Stop drinking ACV immediately.

Avoid all apple-based products during September.

Wear a mask in government buildings to block ACV air exposure.

Never, EVER celebrate National Apple Cider Vinegar Day.

If you suspect someone has been exposed, stage an intervention using balsamic vinegar—it may be the only counteragent left.

FINAL WARNING: The ACV War Has Already Begun

The Deep State doesn’t want you to know this.

The Leader of the ACV Conspiracy, Mother Vinegar is watching.

And now that Randy is compromised, Gertie has a terrible choice to make:

• Try to deprogram Randy before it’s too late…

• Or go rogue and take down the entire ACV operation herself.

What happens next?

That’s for Chemtrails of Desire to reveal.

Stay skeptical.

Stay vinegar-free.

And if you see white streaks in the sky… RUN.

Wacky Benny, signing off.

This Is A Special Broadcast of The Chemtrails of Desire Underground Report

Randy Freeborn: Gertie, I don’t know how to say this, but I think we’ve been looking at the wrong patterns. We thought the government was only using chemtrails, but after reading Wacky Benny’s latest exposé…

(voice drops to a husky whisper) I think sticky buns are bigger than we ever imagined.

Gertie Goldwater: Oh, Randy… Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Sticky Buns? Because you’re touching my soul.

Randy: That’s right, my fearless truth-seeker. It’s all connected. Curling. Sticky buns. Sword swallowing.

Three seemingly innocent “holidays,” but in reality? A carefully orchestrated psy-op designed to distract us while THEY finalize their most nefarious plan yet.

Gertie: Randy, my full heart is pounding! The swirling patterns in curling stones—just like the ones we saw in those suspicious cloud formations last week!

It’s all a form of hypnotic conditioning! And… and sticky buns? (her voice trembles, part fear, part passion) You mean they’re drugging us with sticky buns sugar to keep us compliant?

Randy: Exactly, my love. Sugar is just another tool of the deep state! Why do you think every so-called “comfort food” is packed with it?

THEY want us docile.

THEY want us licking cinnamon off our fingers instead of fighting for our sovereignty!

(Dramatic pause. The tension is palpable. The sounds of cinnamon fingers being licked fills the air.)

Gertie: (whispering) And the sword swallowers, Randy… what’s the connection?

Randy: (long pause) Distraction, Gertie. Pure distraction.

While we’re mesmerized by some guy defying death by shoving a blade down his throat, THEY are out there altering jet stream patterns with chemtrails! It’s sleight-of-hand, but on a global scale!

Gertie: (breathless) It’s so obvious now. Wacky Benny is right—we’ve been too focused on just the skies. The real war is happening everywhere.

In the air, on the ice, in our bakeries… in the very ingredients we trust!

Randy: Exactly! It starts with a sticky bun, but where does it end, Gertie? Where does it end? Today, it’s sugar-laced submission… tomorrow? We wake up in a world where truth itself is glazed over!

Gertie: (eyes widening) Randy… the glaze… It’s… reflective. Could… could they be using it to bounce signals?

Randy: (stunned) Gertie, you beautiful, paranoid genius! It’s all so clear now. We’ve been looking up when we should have been looking down.

Gertie: (whispering urgently) And the cinnamon, Randy… the spirals… what if those swirls aren’t just for flavor? What if they’re ancient symbols of control embedded into our food?

Randy: (gripping her hands) Gertie, we have to ask ourselves—how many times have we absentmindedly traced those swirls with our fingers before taking a bite?

THEY are training us to follow the patterns. And once we do… we become part of the machine.

Gertie: (shaky breath) I always thought I was just appreciating the craftsmanship. But you’re right. It was never just about the pastry.

Randy: No, my love. It was never just about the pastry.

(A thick silence. Somewhere, in the distance, a microwave beeps.)

Gertie: (whispering) The pastries are calling to us, Randy.

Randy: (haunted) They always have.

Gertie: And that’s why we had to launch this very broadcast. People need to know the truth about sticky buns. They need to open their eyes before it’s too late. We’re not just fighting for the truth anymore, Randy…

Randy: (gasping) We’re fighting for love.

(Silence. Heavy breathing. The static of the “pirate” radio feed crackles in the background.)

Randy: You really get me, Gertie.

Gertie: And you really get me, Randy.

(A deep exhale. The kind of exhale only two warriors of truth—and passion—can share.)

Randy: This is Randy Freeborn…

Gertie: And Gertie Goldwater…

Both: Signing off. And signing on to the truth.

(Cue dramatic theme music: something that sounds like a rejected X-Files score mixed with sultry saxophone.)

By Wacky Benny

Hey there, truth seekers! Grab your tinfoil hats (and maybe a napkin) because today’s deep dive is stickier than a lobbyist’s handshake, slipperier than a politician dodging questions, and sharper than my uncle Tony’s opinions on lawn care.

Let’s talk about the real reason we have Curling is Cool Day, Sticky Bun Day, and Sword Swallowers Day all happening around the same time. Coincidence? Ha! That’s what they want you to think.

Curling is Cool… But Why?

Curling. The so-called “sport” where people push rocks across the ice and then sweep like their life depends on it.

They say it’s strategic.

I say it’s a front for something much bigger. Look at the patterns they make—swirling, circular, like a coded message. Is curling secretly a training ground for mind control sweeps?

Think about it—every time the Winter Olympics roll around, sales of certain beverages mysteriously skyrocket. Coincidence, or is curling subliminally hypnotizing us into drinking more soda? I’ll let you decide.

Sticky Buns – Sweet or Sinister?

Ah, Sticky Bun Day. A day to indulge in gooey, cinnamon-drenched goodness.

But wake up, sheeple!

Ever notice how sticky buns are always round? Just like curling stones. Just like hypnotic spirals. That’s right—sticky buns are part of a grander plan to lull us into complacency.

You’re so busy licking the caramel off your fingers, you don’t even notice the government sneaking new surveillance laws past you!

Also, cinnamon? Spicy. Sugar? Addictive. This is how they keep us hooked—one sticky bun at a time. Stay vigilant. And if your sticky bun is extra sticky? It could be laced with something more.

Sword Swallowers – Masters of Distraction

Now, here’s where things get really dangerous. Why would Sword Swallowers Day exist? Who benefits from people shoving swords down their throats?

I’ll tell you who: Big Curling and the Sticky Bun Syndicate.

While you’re watching some guy defy death by impaling himself internally, you’re not paying attention to the real threats.

Curlers are hypnotizing you. Sticky buns are chemically altering your brainwaves. And somewhere, deep in the shadows, powerful people are laughing at us all.

The Grand Scheme

So let’s connect the dots:

– Curling = Mass hypnosis via swirling ice art.

– Sticky Buns = Keeping us docile and sugar-high while the world burns.

– Sword Swallowers = Distracting us from the real conspiracy.

And what’s the endgame? To keep us entertained, overfed, and oblivious. Because a distracted society is an easy society to control.

Stay awake, stay skeptical, and for the love of everything, don’t eat circular sticky buns on Curling Day while watching a sword swallower.

That’s how they get you.

Wacky Benny, signing off.

Explosive Conspiracy Days with Wacky Benny: The February 6th–8th Investigation

By Wacky Benny

(Satirical Conspiracy Theories | Fake News Satire | Hidden Agendas in National Holidays)

“Citizens! Stay alert! It’s time for another episode of National Paranoia with Wacky Benny, your only trusted source for what’s REALLY going on!

Wake up, people! The next three days are PACKED with so-called ‘holidays’ designed to manipulate, distract, and CONTROL us! I’ve connected the dots, and what I’ve uncovered will BLOW YOUR MIND! Let’s break it down…”

February 6th: The Day of Deception

Pay a Compliment Day

“Oh sure, let’s all just go around throwing out ‘compliments’ like confetti. But think about it—who REALLY benefits from this?

That’s right: BIG EGO.

They want you emotionally dependent on external validation, so you’ll crave approval from corporate overlords and social media algorithms. You think you’re just ‘being nice’? WRONG. This is Step One in their Grand Self-Esteem Manipulation Program!

Ever notice how influencers thrive on compliments? That’s because they’re in on it. Compliments = Control. It’s part of the hidden agenda behind mass social engineering. Don’t fall for it!”

Optimist Day

“Oh, this one is RICH. They literally set aside a day to make sure we all ‘stay positive’ while the world is on fire.

It’s the oldest trick in the book—the ‘Keep Smiling While We Pick Your Pockets’ tactic!

Why do they want you to stay optimistic? Because if you’re busy radiating positive vibes, you won’t notice:

Rising grocery prices

Digital surveillance creeping into your home

The increasing number of ‘smart devices’ tracking your every move

If you think blind optimism isn’t dangerous, that’s exactly what they WANT you to think. This is how Big Tech, Big Brother, and Big Gum (more on them later) keep you docile. Wake up, sheeple!”

February 7th: The Carb Conspiracy & Hidden Agendas

National Bubble Gum Day

“Chewing gum? Sounds innocent, right? WRONG.

Ever wondered why it’s encouraged for ‘focus’ in schools and offices? Because chewing gum distracts you from asking real questions!

And let’s talk about its indestructibility. That’s right—bubble gum NEVER fully decomposes. It’s practically eternal.

What’s happening to all that discarded gum? What if the government is stockpiling it for sinister cloning experiments? Think about it. They’ve already got our DNA through our saliva—this is next-level surveillance! If you thought the truth about Wi-Fi was bad, just wait until you hear about the Bubble Gum Conspiracy!”

National Ballet Day

“Oh, you think ballet is just an elegant art form? WRONG.

It’s actually a global balance and posture experiment!

Notice how it’s all about discipline, posture, and extreme physical control? That’s because they’re studying how much control the human body can endure before it breaks!

And those ballet slippers? Designed to literally deform feet over time. Why? Because they want us to be weaker, more fragile, and easier to control! It’s a secret conditioning program hidden in plain sight! Stay vigilant!”

February 8th: The Surveillance & Indoctrination Agenda

National Kite Flying Day

“Oh, they WANT us all outside, flying kites? WHY?

Because kites attract aerial surveillance drones!

That’s right—kites function as disguised antennae, allowing satellites to map wind currents, civilian movement, and potential ‘troublemakers’ in rural areas.

Benjamin Franklin? Yeah, he wasn’t experimenting with electricity—he was testing early surveillance tech! He wanted to see how airborne spying devices could track civilians. And now they’re reviving it?

If you see someone flying a kite, just know: they’re being watched. And if you see someone flying a kite WHILE chewing gum? Run.”

Opera Day

“Opera? Oh, you mean the original brainwashing tool?

That’s right—before movies, before TV, before TikTok, opera was the way the elites controlled the masses.

They’d fill grand theaters with elite-approved narratives, making sure the public consumed only THEIR version of reality. Ever noticed how opera plots always revolve around power, tragedy, and emotional manipulation?

That’s because they were early experiments in mass emotional conditioning! And now they’re bringing it back, disguised as ‘high culture’?

This is a test run for reviving cultural propaganda through live performances! Don’t let them fool you!”

Final Warning from Wacky Benny:

“Until next time, remember: If you think a holiday is harmless, that’s EXACTLY what they want you to believe. Stay paranoid, people!”

Randy Freeborn and Gertie Goldwater weren’t your typical power couple. They didn’t meet at a coffee shop or lock eyes across a crowded room.

No, their love story began in the comment section of a conspiracy forum.

Randy, with his booming voice and penchant for all-caps rants, was the self-proclaimed “Truth Warrior.” He saw through to the core of the conspiracy. And the conspiracies were everywhere!

Gertie, a former nail salon owner turned full-time “conspiracy researcher,” was instantly drawn to his theory about how birds, insects and plants coexisting is a government conspiracy to condition people to accept “organic” and “chemical free” as the norm. But every full-time conspiracy researcher knows that pollination is just the transferring of chemicals from one place to another to keep us complacent.

Their home—a one-bedroom rental in a Midwest strip mall—was ground zero for their mission to “wake up the sheeple.”

The walls were covered with color-coded strings connecting photos, newspaper clippings, and question marks. A giant map of the U.S. dominated the room, with pins marking all the “suspected chemtrail hotspots.”

Conspiracy with a Chance of Passion

On this particular evening, Randy was hunched over his laptop, typing furiously into a forum thread titled “Geoengineering: The Deep State’s Dirty Secret.” Gertie sat across from him, staring dreamily as he ranted.

“Randy,” Gertie said, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling with admiration, “the way you talk about geoengineering… it just… it does something to me.”

Randy smirked, adjusting his belt over his ever-expanding waistline. “You mean, the way they know how to bring rain with cloud seeding but refuse to save California from wildfires? Yeah, Gertie. That’s what they don’t want you to know.”

Gertie swooned, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Say it again, Randy. Tell me the conspiracies of how they manipulate the weather to control our minds.”

Randy moved closer, his voice dropping to a sultry tone. “They’re using chemtrails, Gertie. Chemtrails. But not just for the weather. For population control. And that’s not all,” he added, locking eyes with her. “The wildfires? They’re part of a larger globalist plot to wage economic warfare and deindustrialize the United States before triggering total collapse.”

As their fingers entwined over a pile of printed-out memes and empty fast food containers, the radio crackled in the background, blaring their favorite conspiracy podcast.

The host was mid-rant about his lizard people and lesbians infiltrating Congress conspiarcy when Randy leaned in closer.

“You get me, Gertie,” he murmured. “You really get me.”

“And you get me, Randy,” Gertie replied, clutching his hand. “Let’s never stop fighting the globalists… or our desire for each other.”

They leaned in for a kiss, their love as boundless—and as nonsensical—as the conspiracy theories that had brought them together.