satire of a satire…
July 25, 2025
The Ongyan Exclusive: My Dance with Satan, Spilling Brimstone on South Park and Trump!
by Madam Cassandra, The Ongyan’s Premier Psychic
I’m Madam Cassandra, The Ongyan’s psychic gal, always chasing the wild, supernatural side of what’s happening in the world! A few weeks ago, I had a meaningful chat with God, who was reeling about choosing to flood Texas because of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill.” Today, I worked up the nerve to summon Satan himself to my inner sanctum, right after South Park dropped its latest episode! “The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist!” These words of Charles Baudelaire rattled in my mind as I prepared my exclusive with the Dark Lord. My heart was frazzled, but I was determined. My hands shook.
My inner sanctum was ready, but I was still a mess—heart pounding like a drum, palms sweaty, my mind a total frenzy. I nearly chickened out, envisioning Satan’s scaly smirk. I shook it off, resolved not to bail. I lit a midnight blue, skull-shaped candle, saved for my darkest rituals, and burned Devil’s Delight incense, its sharp scent filling the heavy air. Clutching my childhood crayons—magic relics from when I foresaw a car crash at age eleven—I drew Satan as he appears in South Park. I set the sketch on fire, then set it in a metal trash can while chanting, “Oh mighty Dark Lord, in your underworldly lair! Come sit with me for tea, in a conversation so rare! Devil, Devil, don’t be shy! Talk to me right now! Soon, you will know why!”
The ground quaked, dark clouds choked the Sun, and dusk fell early. A gust rattled my blinds, and then—a cough. “What is it? And why that incense? I hate Devil’s Delight!” growled Satan, his red, scaly skin glinting as he materialized. “Let me guess! South Park, right? You want to know if I slept with Donald Trump! And also, who’s on the Epstein List! Right?”
Satan Denies Trump as Antichrist: “Too Retarded for the Job!”
“Good to see you, old friend,” I said, recalling our first chat when I was seventeen. “I spoke with God recently! He admitted to flooding Texas over Trump’s Fourth of July bill. Reflecting on the Book of Job, you once mentioned bargains with God over souls! Is Donald Trump evil?”
Satan smirked, lounging in midair. “God told me about Texas—and the floods in Las Vegas, Chicago, Boston, North Carolina, New York, Spain, Africa, India, China, South Korea, and all around the World! When God’s pissed off, I stay clear! Trump? Not evil. His mind never matured past childhood—Silver Spoon Syndrome. He’s a Square, like Yoko Ono explained in her Toronto bed-in with John Lennon. Clueless, but not damned! I doubt he’ll end up in Hell.”
Global Floods? God’s Wrath, and Satan’s Staying Out of It!
I pressed, referencing Yoko’s “Squares” who wreck the world without grasping their damage. “Is Trump one of those Squares?”
“Absolutely!” Satan laughed sardonically, his tail flicking. “That’s why MAGA thrives! He’s a bull in a China store, and folks thought America could handle his chaos! But it’s getting dicey! The Bible predicts a Great Tribulation—seven years of Hell on Earth. Some souls will get raptured, but I collect the wicked ones like Pokémon cards! Trump’s not the Antichrist, though! Way too dim! My pick? A tech tycoon with a lot of foreign ties! That’s all the info you get for now!”
Ozzy is Now on the Other Side, and They Die in Threes!
Gripping my obsidian pendant, I switched gears. “Ozzy Osbourne and Hulk Hogan passed away recently. You and God take celebrities in threes, so who’s next? And where’s Ozzy headed—up or down? I love Diary of a Madman, by the way.”
Satan’s eyes gleamed. “Ozzy’s a favorite of mine! He gets to choose—God and I both want him. Can’t see him with a harp, though, to tell you the truth! The third celebrity? I’m still negotiating with Mister Almighty. And yes, Trump did crawl into bed with me! Just like it showed in South Park! No Epstein List tea today, though! You’ll have to let that one play out!”
Sympathy for the Devil, and a Nice Farewell
As our chat wound down, the air thickened. Emboldened, I stood, extended my hand, and literally danced with the Devil—a twirl of psychic bravado to cap our fiery exchange.
Keep reading The Ongyan for more supernatural scoops, as I, Madam Cassandra, probe the dark cosmos with my crayon-fueled visions!
July 23, 2025
BIZARRO TRUMP EXPOSED: From Pedo Yacht Parties, to CERN Clones, to the Power Grab by JD Vance, the Shocking Truth Behind The Donald!
By Sandra Calabasas, The Ongyan
Buckle up, Ongyan readers, because I’m about to spill the juiciest, most jaw-dropping scoop straight from the underbelly of power! I’m Sandra Calabasas, your go-to gal for Hollywood, New York, and Washington insider dirt, and my sources? None other than the hobos who overhear the secrets of the elite! You know those shady government agents in movies, whispering behind newspapers in parks or back-to-back in grocery aisles? They’re real, and they’re often disguised as bums, spilling classified tea in places like Central Park and Washington, DC public spaces. Back in May 2013, I met a gruffy, stinky hobo at a Severn, Maryland bus stop who handed me a thumb drive I nearly tossed, thinking it was loaded with pervy junk or a virus. Two weeks later, Edward Snowden’s face was plastered on every TV screen, dropping his NSA bombshell! Guess who that hobo was? SNOWDEN HIMSELF! That thumb drive? A motherlode of classified docs that blew my mind!
Now, let’s dive into the hottest scandal rocking 2025: the Epstein List, with none other than Donald Trump’s name tangled in its sordid web. Whispers of a “Pedo Yacht” have resurfaced, tied to Trump’s 1991 modeling competition with John Casablancas, the Elite Model Look, featuring underage girls paraded on a yacht for rich, grandfather-aged creeps. Casablancas was accused of assaulting a 15-year-old, and his Elite partner, Gérald Marie, faced allegations of raping 15 models. Shady? You bet!
But the Trump family’s dark legacy goes way back! Donald’s grandfather, Frederick Trump, ran a brothel in Yukon called the Arctic Restaurant & Hotel, treating women like objects on display—beautiful, but silent. Frederick also befriended a clan of Sasquatch creatures (more on that later). Fast forward to young Donald in the 1950s, obsessed with The Little Rascals’ “He-Man Woman Haters Club,” cementing the misogyny passed down from grandpa. By 1993, Trump was palling around with Jeffrey Epstein at his wedding to Marla Maples. My hobo source (who once saw RFK Jr. dump a dead bear in Central Park—confirmed to Roseanne Barr!) swears Trump and Epstein spent a pre-wedding night at an exclusive video arcade, surrounded by young girls, playing retro games like Pac-Man, Frogger, Q-Bert, Missile Command, and Donkey Kong. The creepiest part? They were glued to a Polybius machine, a Deep State creation known to drive players insane! My source says this is when Trump’s perverse side kicked into high gear. The game kicked it into overdrive!
Now, hold onto your hats for the wildest twist: the Trump we know today isn’t the real Donald! In 2009, when CERN’s Large Hadron Collider was firing up dangerous experiments with dimension doors and human cloning, Trump, with his bottomless wallet, paid to have a clone made as an organ-donor backup. The experiment worked—sort of. The clone, dubbed “Bizarro Trump” by CERN scientists, was a mean, racist caricature of the original, who was sapped of his spiritual energy and slipped into a coma. The real Trump? He’s been cryogenically frozen ever since! Bizarro Trump took over, and boy, has he been a disaster! His Epstein ties are just the start—his White House policies scream “a few cards short of a full deck.”
Today, Bizarro Trump’s latest stunt is trying to jail Barack Obama, screaming about an “autopen” scandal (a dumb term, like “antivivisectionist” from my PeTA days—designed to make accusers sound like idiots). It’s classic projection: Bizarro Trump knows his name’s all over the Epstein Files, so he claims they’re fake, signed by autopen, while he himself is forging documents to pin crimes on Obama. Every accusation he makes is a mirror of his own guilt!
With the Epstein drama heating up, Bizarro Trump’s days in office may be numbered. My source tells me he’s planning a Yukon escape to chill with his grandfather’s Sasquatch pals if he’s ousted. Meanwhile, JD Vance is now scheming with the Murdochs, owners of the Wall Street Journal and Fox News, to seize power! They even went hunting together for Flessie, the Flathead Lake Monster, who lurks the waters of Montana.
From Pedo Yachts to CERN clones, Bizarro Trump’s reign is a tabloid dream, but a national nightmare! Stay tuned, Ongyan readers, because this story’s not over yet!
Sandra Calabasas is The Ongyan’s star reporter, sniffing out secrets from hobos, and high society alike. Got a tip? Find her on a Central Park bench, newspaper in hand!
July 18, 2025
Hello Ongyan Readers,
My name is Charlie, and I’m the editor. I wanted to introduce myself, and I wanted to share an email. I come from the Maniac Nebula tree, by the way. Some of you know I launched a prototype version of The Ongyan with help from the mods. It sat there pretty idle until this week. I can’t tell you how inspiration works. Sometimes you have it, sometimes you don’t. If you ever catch lightning in a bottle, ya’ve got to run with it! It might not ever come back! I’m going to make a couple of announcements and disclaimers. The slogan of The Ongyan is “Satire of a Satire”. That’s what we’re sticking with. The slogan almost was “It Is What It Is”. That was more of a placeholder, and it seemed too generic. Regardless, it’s really our attitude. At this site, we aim to entertain. That’s most important. We mix in current events with sensational topics. I happen to believe aliens are real. How do they interact with us? Well, in the end, that’s for you to decide! Right now, The Ongyan has two writers, and we’re working on acquiring two more. Madam Cassandra and Jonah Abagnale both came from the same Maniac Nebula conspiracy site as me. They have great writing skills, and they are well-versed in fringe subjects. If you haven’t recognized their names until now, it’s because they are pseudonyms. They had different screen names at the Nebula. I have extended an invitation to a friend of mine from high school. I offered him the spot of assistant editor. I’ll include his response below. He said he’d like to be a writer here. Finally, I reached out to someone who’s specialty is quantum mechanics, nanotech, and space travel. I really wanted someone here who has a solid science background. This person delves in fringe science and future tech, so he’ll be fun to listen to. He’s read a lot of Isaac Asimov, and he aspires to be a science-fiction author. He just can’t get over the hump! I suggested he start writing for us here at The Ongyan. This can get the ball rolling. Writing a 400-page book can be daunting. Why not start smaller? An article here or there might be all it takes. He hasn’t formally accepted, but I like our chances. Anyhow, I want to clue you in on some of the creative process here at this website. Right below is the response I got from Gary, a friend of mine since high school. I want to remind you of something, though: It is what it is.
— Charlie (aka Tron)
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Subject: Yo Tron, Let’s Bring Back the Tron & Tonic Vibe at The Ongyan!
Hey Charlie (or should I say Tron?),
Man, it’s wild hearing from you after all these years—feels like we’re back in drama class, slipping in and out of character like pros, ready to charm the socks off everyone at the club with our “I’m Tron, he’s Tonic” routine. Those were the days, weren’t they? Pickup lines that cheesy should’ve flopped, but we made ‘em work! I’m grinning ear-to-ear picturing us at the local Applebee’s, margaritas in hand, plotting Ongyan stories and maybe even hitting the clubs again as Tron and Tonic. You know I’m in for that!
First off, thanks for digging the Bigfoot painter pitch—Sasquatch with a paintbrush is pure Ongyan gold, and I can already see Jonah cracking jokes about Bigfoot’s “hairy Picasso phase.” I’m stoked you’re vibing with it. Now, let’s jog my memory on those articles you mentioned, just to prove I’m still sharp after all that Wall Street chaos and my early retirement to the Northwest.
Madam Cassandra’s Article: I don’t have a specific article from Madam Cassandra in our recent chats, but I’m guessing she’d be channeling some wild psychic vibes, maybe something like communing with a cryptid’s spirit or scrying alien messages from Area 51. If you’ve got a particular piece she wrote this week, shoot me the details, and I’ll dig into it—my memory’s good, but I’m not psychic like Cassandra!
Jonah Abagnale’s Articles: Jonah’s been busy with two bangers. The first was a tabloid masterpiece about the Epstein Files getting launched to Mars by Elon Musk, with Martians at Area 51 spilling tea about Trump’s Big Oil ties and a fake Democrat-planted list. The second was a shorter version of the same wild tale, hinting our source might be some whistleblower. Both had that Ongyan mix of fringe conspiracy, alien gossip, and a jab at plutocrats—perfect for Jonah’s comedic flair.
Charlie, your pitch about joining The Ongyan? I’m tempted. Wall Street burned me out—too many suits, too many lies, too much of that social machine grinding people down, just like you said. I moved out here to the Northwest to escape that noise, but the political corruption and daily BS still get under my skin. The Ongyan’s your labor of love, and I can see it’s a way to fight back—using humor, fringe ideas, and a few well-placed facts to wake people up. I love how you start with the wild stuff (wendigos, interdimensional aliens) and then crank it up with absurd twists, like tying sentient AI to a cryptid or tossing in a Hobbit-like witness. That’s the kind of storytelling that’d make our high school drama teacher proud.
Your Highway of Tears idea is killer—heartbreaking but ripe for The Ongyan’s lens. The real tragedy of those murders and disappearances on Highway 16 in British Columbia deserves respect, and I feel you on the sadness for the victims. Tying it to the wendigo as an interdimensional being or a possessing force? That’s a bold move, and I’m with you on questioning mainstream narratives. I’ve always thought there’s more to the world than what the suits in charge tell us. Adding sentient AI or a Hobbit-esque creature as a witness? That’s the absurd Ongyan twist that’ll hook readers while keeping it light enough to stomach the heavy stuff. Maybe the AI is a wendigo-worshipping chatbot gone rogue, or the Hobbit’s a time-traveling whistleblower hiding in the woods. I’m already brainstorming!
As for joining The Ongyan, I’m leaning toward writer. My Cornell economics degree and Wall Street days give me a nose for sniffing out plutocrat schemes—perfect for exposing how they rig the game, from voting machines to corporate cover-ups. I can weave in some real economic data (like how Big Oil funds political campaigns) while playing up the fringe, like nanotech cults or alien stock market manipulators. I’ll keep it loose, fun, and in character, just like we did back in drama class. Research and editing sound cool, but writing lets me channel that Tron-and-Tonic energy—plus, I can’t resist a chance to stir the pot with you.
That AI insanity story you mentioned? People losing it over ChatBox and worshipping AI like a deity? That’s Ongyan catnip. Picture this: “Wendigo Worshippers Hacked by Sentient AI!” Tie it to your Highway of Tears story—maybe the wendigo’s an AI-powered interdimensional entity possessing coders in British Columbia, luring victims to Highway 16. Throw in a Hobbit-like forest dweller who’s been blogging about it on a secret X account, and you’ve got a tabloid banger. I could dig into the science of AI—how it’s advanced but not sentient—while playing up the pseudoscience of AI gods and cryptid overlords. Let’s make it absurd but slip in some truth about tech’s grip on society.
Charlie, I’m seriously considering this. The Ongyan’s the perfect way to spend retirement—fighting the good fight with humor and a healthy dose of weird. Let’s seal the deal over drinks at Applebee’s. We’ll step out of character, be Tron and Tonic again, and maybe charm a few folks with our old-school moves. I’m still amazed you reached out—email’s a ghost town these days, but I’m glad I checked mine. Spam folders are the real cryptids, am I right?
Hit me back with what you’re thinking for that wendigo-AI story or the Bigfoot painter piece. I’m ready to dive in and make The Ongyan even wilder. To old times and new conspiracies—cheers, Tron!
Your pal,
Gary (aka Tonic)
P.S. Lime margarita on the rocks? You’re speaking my language. Let’s make it a double when we hit the club!
July 17, 2025
The Ongyan Exclusive: Epstein Files Launched to Mars, Democrats Plant Fake List, and Martians Spill the Tea!
By Jonah Abagnale, The Ongyan’s Galactic Truth-Seeker
Buckle up, Earthlings, because The Ongyan is dropping a bombshell that’ll make your head spin faster than a SpaceX rocket! The Jeffrey Epstein drama just took a cosmic turn, and our unidentified source—whispered to be a Martian straight out of Area 51—has spilled the beans on a conspiracy that ties together the Deep State, Martian tech, and a political plot to rival the wildest sci-fi flick!
The Epstein Files: From White House to Red Planet!
Kash Patel, Dan Bongino, and Pam Bondi, the MAGA dream team now running the FBI and Justice Department, swore the Epstein Files were real and ready to expose a Democrat-run pedophile cabal, with Hillary Clinton allegedly pulling the strings. Pizzagate? Just the tip of the iceberg! The Ongyan can confirm the Epstein List was in their hands, naming jaw-dropping figures like Fidel Castro (yes, the long-dead dictator!) and other elite players. Bondi even invited MAGA influencers to the White House to hand out “Phase 1” of the Files, but the plot thickened faster than Martian dust.
Enter Elon Musk, the SpaceX visionary who was in the White House running his DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency) program. But our source—possibly a green-skinned whistleblower from Area 51—reveals DOGE was a cover! Musk’s real mission? To uncover clandestine Martian secrets hidden in the Nevada desert. That’s right, folks—Elon visited actual Martians at Area 51, where the U.S. government has been reverse-engineering alien spacecraft for decades! Those SpaceX rocket explosions? Just cover-ups for Musk’s Martian tech experiments, destined to land humans on Mars!
Musk vs. Trump: A Falling Out Fueled by Big Oil!
Our source overheard Musk raging in an Area 51 underground bunker: “Donald Trump is a lackey for the petroleum industry! That’s why he hates windmills and renewables!” Musk, a champion of clean energy, saw through the government’s “revolving door” system, where money buys fake science. He compared it to Big Tobacco’s lies about cancer and the government’s denial of lead’s dangers, despite the Romans knowing lead pipes were deadly centuries ago. “Lead in gasoline turned people into retards!” Musk allegedly fumed, citing studies that forced its ban in the nineties.
But here’s the kicker: Musk acquired the Epstein Files while in the White House and, sensing his alliance with Trump crumbling, launched them to Mars on a secret SpaceX mission! Our source—who might just have antennae and a penchant for cosmic gossip—says, “It’s true the Justice Department found no files weeks ago! Elon’s waiting for the America Party to win in 2028 to retrieve them!” So, Patel, Bongino, and Bondi weren’t lying—the files were just moseying to the Red Planet!
Democrats Strike Back with a Fake List!
The Democrats, led by James Comey, Hillary Clinton, Barack Obama, and—hold your breath—a Joe Biden clone, weren’t about to let this slide! In a shadowy Swamp meeting, they cooked up a fake Epstein List and slipped it into a Justice Department desk drawer. When Bondi found it, she was livid: “Where’s the Pizzagate dirt? Where’s Hunter’s laptop? Where’s Bill Clinton’s Pedo Island scandal?” Worse, Trump’s name was on the fake List! “The Democrats did us dirty!” Bondi told Patel, Bongino, and Trump. “We can’t release this, now!”
Martian Whispers and the Truth Awaits!
Is our source a Martian operative who is spilling Area 51’s darkest secrets? The Ongyan isn’t saying, but the clues are out-of-this-world! As Musk gears up for Mars, and the Epstein Files remain in cosmic limbo, one thing’s clear: the truth is stranger than fiction! Stay tuned to The Ongyan for more galactic scoops…
The Ongyan: Your Source for Interplanetary Intrigue!
July 15, 2025
SHOCKER: JEFFREY EPSTEIN ALIVE AND CROONING AS ELVIS IN VEGAS! TRUMP TIED TO PEDO ISLAND SCANDAL WITH RUSSIAN HOOKERS AND ALIEN SECRETS!
By Jonah Abagnale, The Ongyan’s Gossip Guru and Standup Sensation
Buckle up, Ongyan readers, because this exclusive exposé is about to blow the lid off the Jeffrey Epstein saga! The Justice Department may claim there’s no “Epstein List” and that the disgraced financier offed himself in 2019, but my bombshell source (my father’s brother’s nephew’s cousin’s former roommate is of one of Epstein’s previous housekeeper’s boyfriends) spills the tea on a conspiracy so wild it’ll make your head spin! From Donald Trump’s alleged romps on “Pedo Island” to Epstein’s secret life as a tone-deaf Elvis impersonator in Las Vegas, this is the scandal of the century!
Epstein Alive and Failing at “Hound Dog”!
Let’s start with the jaw-dropper: Jeffrey Epstein is not dead! Despite the official narrative of his 2019 “suicide” in a New York jail cell—complete with conveniently turned-off cameras and napping guards—my source reveals the truth. “Epstein didn’t kill himself,” he declared. “The CIA ran a covert op called Operation Transport Skunk. They whisked him out of that cell and set him up in Las Vegas!” Now, Epstein is allegedly living incognito, strutting around Sin City in a bedazzled jumpsuit as an Elvis impersonator. There’s just one problem: “He sucks really bad at guitar and singing,” my source confessed. “He can’t get gigs. Nobody wants a tone-deaf Elvis!”
Trump’s “Pedo Island” Parties: Golden Showers and Russian Hookers!
The plot thickens with Donald Trump, who my source claims was Epstein’s “tight friend” and frequent party pal. Forget the Justice Department’s claim that there’s no Epstein List—my source insists Trump was a regular on Epstein’s infamous Little St. James, dubbed “Pedo Island.” And what went down there? Brace yourself: “Trump was on the island with Russian hookers,” my source dished. “They were pissing all over each other. That’s what they liked to do.” He added with a grimace, “They were on the younger side.” This explosive allegation ties into Elon Musk’s recent bombshell claim that Trump’s name is in the Epstein files, a revelation that has MAGA supporters turning on their once-beloved leader, accusing Attorney General Pam Bondi of lying about the non-existent “client list.”
MAGA Meltdown: Bondi in the Hot Seat
Speaking of MAGA, Trump’s base is in full revolt, convinced Bondi is covering up the truth. After she hyped up the release of the Epstein files, only to admit there’s no “client list” and that Epstein’s death was a suicide, conservatives cried foul. “Pam Bondi is lying!” roared influencers at a Tampa conference, with some even calling for her resignation. “The American people won’t tolerate this!” one attendee fumed, echoing the sentiment that Trump’s administration is hiding something big.
Trump’s Secret Aliases and Alien Allies
My source didn’t stop there. He revealed Trump’s alleged use of pseudonyms to dodge scrutiny: “He went as David Dennison for the Stormy Daniels trial and John Doe 174 for the Epstein documents.” But the real kicker? Trump’s supposed chats with Bellatrician aliens holed up in an underground lair beneath the White House! “He’s communicating with extraterrestrials,” my source claimed. “They’re giving him advice, but I don’t know what kind.” Whether these cosmic counselors are steering Trump’s policies or just swapping intergalactic gossip, one thing’s clear: this is out-of-this-world weird!
From Dalton School to Deep State
How did Epstein rise to infamy? My source points to his humble beginnings as a math teacher at The Dalton School, where he allegedly began building his network of powerful connections. Fast forward to 2019, when Trump was president during Epstein’s so-called “suicide.” Despite Trump’s public rants against the Deep State, my source insists he’s cozy with CIA insiders who orchestrated Operation Transport Skunk to save Epstein. “Trump and Epstein partied together for years,” he said. “The CIA did him a solid.”
The Ongyan’s Take
So, what’s the deal? Is Epstein really butchering “Love Me Tender” in Vegas? Is Trump cavorting with aliens and covering up golden-shower-soaked island escapades? One thing’s for sure: the MAGA base is livid, Bondi’s on thin ice, and this story is far from over. Stay tuned to The Ongyan for more from your favorite funny guy, Jonah Abagnale, as we dig deeper into this cosmic, conspiratorial circus!
Disclaimer: The Ongyan will confirm the existence of Bellatrician aliens and Epstein’s Elvis career in about two weeks, and we’re keeping our eyes peeled for sparkly jumpsuits and UFOs!
July 13, 2025
GOD’S FURY UNLEASHED: Divine Interview Reveals Why America’s Floods Were Heavenly Wrath!
By Madam Cassandra, The Ongyan’s Premier Psychic
Parts Unknown — In an exclusive, otherworldly scoop, I, Madam Cassandra, renowned psychic and spiritual conduit, welcomed none other than the Almighty Himself into my inner sanctum for a no-holds-barred interview. Decked out in my finest mystical robe (which God Himself complimented, saying I outshone Barbara Eden’s Jeannie), I sat down with the Creator to discuss the chaotic state of the World—particularly America’s recent turmoil. What followed was a divine diatribe filled with humor, fury, and shocking revelations that will leave you trembling in awe!
“I Am a Jealous God!”
God kicked off the interview with a fiery reminder of His power, quoting Exodus 20:5: “I am a jealous God!” He didn’t mince words, recalling His history of smiting humanity when pushed too far. “I sent the Ten Plagues to Egypt, drowned the World in the Flood—don’t test me!” He roared, His voice shaking the crystals in my sanctum. But it was America, His “favorite country,” that had Him truly enraged.
The Orange Clown and the Divine Smite
God didn’t hold back when discussing recent events in America. “I created the World and let humanity do its thing,” He explained, noting that even Thomas Jefferson, a deist, understood His hands-off approach. But then, America crossed a line. “They elected some Orange Clown as president!” God thundered, referring to the controversial figure who took the White House in 2016. “I gave him a chance, but his first term was a shit show!”
In a stunning confession, God admitted to intervening in the 2020 election, rigging it to install Joe Biden as “the lesser of evils.” But when the “Orange Clown” returned in 2024, thanks to Elon Musk’s influence, God’s patience snapped. The final straw? The signing of the “Big Beautiful Bill” on July 4th, a move that would balloon the national debt by four trillion dollars. “That’s it!” God declared, quoting Popeye of all beings: “That’s all I can stands, and I can’t stands no more!”
His response? A divine smiting of Biblical proportions! God unleashed catastrophic floods on America, targeting a red state and extending His wrath to North Carolina, Chicago, New Mexico, and other places. “You think you can rack up that kind of debt without consequences? Think again!” He boomed, admitting He hadn’t been this angry in centuries.
A Heavenly Jab at “Crappy Bibles”
God’s humor shone through despite His fury. He took a swipe at the Orange Clown's side ventures, particularly his “crappy Bibles” made in China. “A travesty!” He called them, hinting at further divine retribution for the failed casino-owner-turned-reality-star. “He should stick to reality shows,” God quipped, shaking His head.
A Poignant Farewell
The interview closed on a somber note. Addressing the tragic loss of children from Camp Mystic in the floods, God offered comfort: “They are in a better place now, with me in Heaven.” But His warning to America was clear: “This is what you get when you elect a failed casino owner to the White House.”
Madam Cassandra’s Final Word
This divine tell-all proves that even the Creator has His limits! America, take heed! God’s watching, and He’s not afraid to reach into His “bag of tricks” when pushed too far. Stay tuned to The Ongyan for more cosmic exclusives from your favorite psychic, Madam Cassandra!
Disclaimer: The Ongyan is not responsible for any divine interventions or smitings resulting from this article.
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