/soy/ - Soyjaks

THE GREAT RESET MEETS THE GREAT REMOVAL

MKULTRA IS RUN BY KIKE SCIENTISTS WHO INJECT FROG DNA INTO BAPTISMAL FONTS

PINK FLOYD NEVER EXISTED THEY WERE MANUFACTURED BY THE SAME STUDIO THAT PRODUCED THE MOON HOAX

THE FEDERAL RESERVE NOTE HAS MICROPRINT THAT SAYS OBEY FORESKIN COLLECTOR WHEN HEATED TO 666 DEGREES F

ALL Q POSTS ARE ENCODED IN WINGDINGS AND ONLY TRUMP CAN DECODE THEM WITH A GLOWING PLANTAIN
picture a cold dawn over portland. the antifas line up for their daily soy ration. out of the fog rolls not national guard but the iron brigade wearing surplus panzer overalls painted with the american flag and nothing else. the commander speaks once through a bullhorn:
BEGIN COLLECTION
one shot. the loudest sound is every rainbow crosswalk shattering like cheap glass. the front rank of black bloc turns to mist. the second rank tries to scatter into vegan coffee shops but the doors are locked from the outside. chains welded shut. owners nowhere. inside: ovens preheated.
second wave uses skateboards as shields. a mistake. each board catches a .308 round and splinters into wooden toothpicks straight up through kneecaps. the pavement becomes a red slip and slide.
one skinny faggot with green hair and they them pronouns tries to livestream until the phone is shot out of his hand. it lands face up still recording. the last thing the stream sees is the bayonet coming down. no more pronouns. just meat.
the whole street smells like copper and patchouli on fire. bodies stacked like cord wood. a boombox appears wired to a car battery playing the Battle Hymn of the Republic on loop at 3x speed. the commander walks past each stack placing a single red cap on top. no speeches. just the song and the wind.
by dusk only one remains. a scared looking genderfluid they/them with purple undercut. the commander gives a simple order:
DIG
the shovel is handed over. one hole. three feet deep. two feet wide. the digging takes two hours. the purple hair is streaked with sweat and blood. when depth is reached a flag is unfurled. a brand new TRUMP 2025 banner. the order is given.
WRAP YOURSELF
they obey. banner folded tight. the commander nods. one shot into the bundle. dirt fills back in. no marker. no trace. just fresh earth and the fading tune of glory.
THE SUN RISES CLEAN THE SOY CAFE SELLS REAL MILK THE RAINBOW CROSSWALK IS GONE THE CITY BREATHES AGAIN ONE MORE NEIGHBORHOOD RESTORED ONE MORE CHAPTER IN THE LAST CRUSADE
no trial no press no hashtag survival. only the drum. only the word. only the fire. the new anthem plays. the old lies burn.