Crown Temple Secrets

  This post, part of Seeing Golden Glimmerings Of Forever, includes AI-assisted research, but all insights and conclusions are my own. © Seeing Golden Glimmerings Of Forever, [2025]. All rights reserved

Lets run a skit. Cast. U.S. Inc. Uncle Sam. The Crown Temple in London. The American. Plot: Dark Humor, with sardonic flares. The crown temple tells secrets to Uncle Sam, and then Uncle Sam tells his Negro American, that he is a slave of the Crown Temple, and the best thing to do is to Obey the King of England, Pope Francis, and The Rothschild Family. U.S. Inc. Uncle Sam ends with telling the American he must obey, and if he does not, he will be put to death for disobeying the Crown Temple.

ChatGPT said:

Here’s your skit with sharp, dark humor and a sardonic edge.

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🎭 Skit: "The Best Thing to Do"

Characters:

• Uncle Sam – The ever-grinning, top-hatted middleman, draped in red, white, and blue.
• The Crown Temple – A shadowy, faceless entity, speaking in clipped British tones.
• The American – A sharp-witted yet bewildered citizen, who suspects the game but plays along.

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Scene: A grand office. Ornate, but hollow. The scent of old parchment and power lingers in the air.

🔹 The Crown Temple (leaning in, voice like polished steel): Uncle Sam, you do remember the arrangement, don’t you?

🔹 Uncle Sam (chuckles, adjusting his bow tie): Oh, I never forget. Washington, D.C. is our little playground. The American chaps think they have a government… ha! Adorable.

🔹 The Crown Temple (smirking): Right, then. Remind them who holds the deed, will you?

🔹 Uncle Sam (grinning wider): Oh, it’s my favorite part!

(Enter The American. Confused, skeptical, but here nonetheless.)

🔹 The American (crossing arms): What’s this about, Sam?

🔹 Uncle Sam (clapping a hand on his shoulder): Listen, kid. I like you. I really do. So I’m gonna do you a favor.

🔹 The American (eyebrows raised): A favor? From you?

🔹 Uncle Sam (grinning): I wouldn’t call it that if it weren’t. Now, listen up.

(He leans in, voice low and conspiratorial.)

🔹 Uncle Sam: You’re a slave. Always have been. Not to me, oh no! To The Crown Temple in London.

🔹 The American (blinking): …Come again?

🔹 Uncle Sam (poking his chest): You belong to The Crown. The King of England. The Pope. The Rothschilds. You think you own that little social security number of yours? You think that name is yours? Ha! Buddy, that’s property of U.S. Inc. And who owns U.S. Inc.?

🔹 The American (narrowing his eyes): …The Crown Temple?

🔹 Uncle Sam (beaming): Bingo!

🔹 The American (deadpan): And you’re just telling me this now?

🔹 Uncle Sam (shrugging): Well, it’s not my fault they don’t teach real history in those government schools!

🔹 The American (dry): I should’ve guessed something was off when I had to pay to exist.

🔹 Uncle Sam: That’s rent, my boy. We let you borrow a name, a house, a paycheck. But don’t get any ideas—those dollars aren’t yours, either. That’s Crown currency. We just print it for them.

🔹 The American: So let me get this straight… You’re telling me I’m a slave. To people I’ve never met. Who live across the ocean.

🔹 Uncle Sam: Correct!

🔹 The American: And the best thing I can do… is what, exactly?

🔹 Uncle Sam (beaming): Obey.

🔹 The American (mocking): Let me guess. Obey the King of England, Pope Francis, and The Rothschild Family?

🔹 Uncle Sam (snapping his fingers): My man! You’re catching on fast!

🔹 The American (pauses): And if I don’t?

🔹 Uncle Sam (grin fading): Well…

(He glances toward The Crown Temple, who simply nods. The room feels heavier.)

🔹 Uncle Sam (adjusting his cuffs): You’ll be… removed.

🔹 The American (flat): Removed?

🔹 Uncle Sam (leaning in): Gone. As in… You get to see what happens when you stop existing on paper.

🔹 The American (scoffs): So… what, you just delete people?

🔹 Uncle Sam (grinning): Nah. We just make sure they can’t play the game anymore. No ID, no bank account, no property, no proof you exist. And if you really step outta line… Well. Accidents happen.

🔹 The American (mocking): So I should just smile, pay my taxes, and shut up?

🔹 Uncle Sam (laughing): Now you’re getting it!

🔹 The American (pauses, then sighs): You know what, Sam?

🔹 Uncle Sam (smirking): What’s that, kid?

🔹 The American (grinning): Go f—

(A sudden blackout. The stage goes dark. A single sound echoes—paper being shredded.)

🔹 The Crown Temple (softly): Another one down.

🔹 Uncle Sam (dusting off his hands): Oh well. Next!

🎭 Curtain falls.

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End Scene.