𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝒉𝒊𝒎.
𝒪n January 3, 2018, 15-year-old Greta Tintin Eleonora Ernman Thunberg burst onto the world stage with a sign that read, «Skolstrej för klimatet.» Several members of the agency I work for, dedicated to the fight against the NWO, were immediately suspicious. After a few weeks, there was no doubt: the creature was under mind control and her goal was to promote one of the biggest lies in history, one that would lead the world to an even lower level of mental development, especially targeting millennial youth. I gave a presentation—my identity is withheld—to the agency, showing the potential future risks and the evidence that Thunberg was under the influence of the MK Ultra program. They approved my mission to deprogram the minor and save the world from an avalanche of disinformation.
The first big question about the mission was how to deprogram a young woman with Asperger’s syndrome—clearly something that would become important later: she was a virgin—from all the nonsense they’d installed in her fragile mind? Decades of collecting testimonies and information through espionage make it clear that such mental programming was done through trauma, inducing the creation of barriers in the mind that turned the psyche into a honeycomb. But, clearly, Greta had never been [physically] abused. Those who wanted to turn her into a puppet had resorted to her Asperger’s syndrome. Then came the answer: If puppets are programmed with pain, then it would be logical to deprogram a puppet with pleasure. As they would say in the modern age: With love, fun, and tons of pleasure!
I spent weeks studying this possibility with colleagues who were experts on victims of ritual abuse, some of them dissidents from the global cabal, and others with names that almost anyone would recognize. We concluded that the probabilities of success could be only calculated. Better than mathematics, it would be a test. Deprogramming a mental slave with love and pleasure was something that had never been attempted.
The experts agreed on one thing: The amount of love and pleasure provided to the subject (Greta) had to be absolutely opposite to the pain and suffering that would cause the mind to become like a honeycomb. This would destroy the structure. From this prediction emerged a new necessity: We couldn’t entrust the task to just any man. I would have signed up, but although I consider myself very loving, my penis is barely 14 cm at full length. It wouldn’t work. 24 hours later, I received a message from Agent Morley, suggesting that we search high and low for a man. My colleague sent me a photo, and all I saw was an African-American man wearing a “piluso” style hat and a towel hanging from the back of his neck. I scrolled down and had a severe visual impact. That was the guy, obviously, he would be if he passed countless more tests.
It took us two days to locate him. We tracked him down by applying high-tech to the photos of the well-gifted subject and tracing back to the first sharing. The man turned out to be a citizen of the Republic of Ghana, working in London, named John Unwetto. I must emphasize that Unwetto was not given complete information at first. By the second day of contact, he believed he would serve as bait for the arrest of a wanted pedophile. In the meantime, he underwent dozens of psychological, psychotechnical, and health tests. He seemed to be the perfect subject to carry out Greta Thunberg’s deprogramming. Within a week, Unwetto was selected, among four other candidates, as an official deprogramming agent and also an «unconscious undercover,» meaning he was an agent without knowing it. With the deprogramming agent and a plan in place, all that was missing was the subject: Greta, who was in Poland at the time.
That’s when Agent O’Hara sprang into action. O’Hara, 16, infiltrated the «Fridays for Future» program created by Thunberg and managed to get close to Greta. In a record four weeks, he achieved his goal of destabilizing her mental patterns and getting her interested in trying «new» things. O’Hara used persuasion techniques that I cannot reveal, but which are used daily over all of you by your governments, the media, and your education system. The subject’s Asperger’s syndrome was no obstacle, O’Hara reported.
The team that carried out Thunberg’s mental deprogramming was nicknamed «Cupid W»—with the W standing for WhatsApp. Cupid W planned a number of meeting sessions between the subject, agent O’Hara, and the deprogramming agent, after which Thunberg’s mental liberation was expected. The members of Cupido W, always stationed in vans less than 400 meters from Thunberg, were—to use a popular expression—“biting their nails”; since even the first session didn’t have a 50% chance of success.
Unwetto was given a unidirectional wireless earpiece the size of a lemon seed, which would be installed in her right ear cavity. Through it, she would receive instructions while the team watched the mental deprogramming procedure on 24 monitors with video from 24 cameras the size of water droplets, installed in the rooms where the deprogramming agent was to take Thunberg. The sound would be received through a laser aimed at a previously installed membrane.
O’Hara earned Thunberg’s trust. Sharing photos on social media, Thunberg reacted to seeing Unwetto in the unequivocal way one reacts to something in context, that is, something previously known. The younger woman smiled half-heartedly before scrolling down the photo. He was probably more famous than she was, but Thunberg made it clear to Cupid W with her reaction that she was no idiot.
Unwetto, as expected, also knew Thunberg. When he learned he would be meeting her, he didn’t understand, but was immediately informed. Morley used these words: «Nothing we’ve studied will change. O’Hara’s code name is Mylene, and you’ve known each other for years. You are who you are, The WhatsApp Nigga¹, but you will tell her your name is Paul Dobbery, to protect your true identity and yours. You have to win Greta Thunberg’s heart and give her the best sex in the world.» Use the persuasion techniques you learned with us.» Unwetto surprised Cupid W with her enthusiasm. She raised the tablet that was playing the video of Greta giving a ridiculous speech and practically stroked her face. Cupid W’s reaction, in the van, could have been compared to that of a fan whose team scores a goal.
The progress O’Hara, known to Thunberg as Mylene Fisher, must be credited to that which Unwetto would later make. She had managed to get a girl with Asperger’s and whose attention was fixed on a false cause, invented by globalists, interested in breaking out of her routine. Suffice it to say that O’Hara was harassed several times by agents of Agenda 21, guardians of Thunberg’s functions as an idiotizer of youth. But with all the ups and downs and dangers, the first session took place.
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¹In Colombia, where is born the author, few words express more love than Nigga. “Negro”, in the original. N. of T.
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Thunberg and Dobbery (Unwetto) were introduced by Mylene at the end of the UN conference in support of increased measures to curb so-called climate change. Dobbery managed to go unnoticed with simple silver-plated glasses. Cupid W was still «biting his nails.» Morley noted, in a conversational manner and rubbing his thumbs against his index fingers, a sign of extreme anxiety: «We need you to put that 18 inches of cock up your ass, know what’s good, and stop talking nonsense.» But despite the humorous sound, the rest of Cupid W didn’t laugh. We were also with our hearts racing and our eyes fixed on the monitors.
In the following days, Mylene and Dobbery had their work cut out for them. Getting Thunberg out of her reverie about the aforementioned fabricated cause and interested in something beyond it remained a daunting task.
A week later, there were no more results, so Mylene (O’hara) dramatically stepped on the gas: She had attended dozens of activities and protests with Thunberg and felt like she was going to become stupid. Without thinking twice, undercover agent O’Hara went directly to the last resort. She plagiarized the subject.
Thunberg’s abduction was unexpected and somewhat problematic for the agency, even though it was an operational success. Later, we at Cupido W understood its advantages and convinced the director to go ahead. The first step after the change of plans was to take Thunberg to a tropical city and let her experience the warmth of the tropics. In O’Hara’s words: «Let the baby feel the climate change in her little butt, see if she wakes up.» Of course, moving from Polish cities and those in her home country to the city we chose was a key impact: Cartagena de Indias was chosen over several Caribbean cities.
First session
Thunberg woke up on a sun lounger under a parasol next to a pool, on a beautiful property whose name and exact location this report will not reveal. On the table were a sealed bottle of brand-name water, previously injected with narcotics, a plastic cup, and a napkin. Upon seeing this, the girl jumped up and looked for something to cover herself, as O’Hara had dressed her in a sexy swimsuit by a world-renowned Colombian designer while she was still unconscious. It consisted of two shiny, dark blue pieces, similar to a Brazilian string thong with micro cups, intentionally made to appear under a slightly more conservative, semi-transparent black silk. No one in the world could have imagined the girl’s stunning figure, her slender, small bum, and her slender waistband. The most modest thing Thunberg found on hand was a woven sarong with enormous holes.
Below is the recording made in Cupid W’s van.
Morley: (via mobile call ): Dobbery, reply.
Dobbery: This is Dobbery, report.
Morley: The subject just woke up.
Dobbery ran from the other side of the house and up the stairs to see her from the living room window. He made a shocked whistle, because he hadn’t yet seen Thunberg in a swimsuit, or with her long hair loose (except in photos).
Morley: Concentrate, Dobbery.
Me: She’s not bad at all, this brat. She may not be Emma Watson, but she’s not bad at all.
Thunberg just stood there, legs close together, in the middle of the sun loungers, looking everywhere, one arm covering her chest and one hand covering her lower stomach.
O’Hara: (via mobile call): Yeah, she looks nice, get over it. Dobbery, be alert, Run Plan Stallion One.
Dobbery: Alert.
O’Hara, dressed similarly to the subject, appeared at the pool. Thunberg called out her name, “Mylene,” and ran to meet her.
Thunberg: What is this place, where are they holding us?
O’Hara: Do you like the weather?
Mylene’s question was intentional, to shock Thunberg, since the word “weather»² to her was like the word “Allah ” to a Muslim.
O’Hara: Don’t be afraid (grabs her by the shoulders and stares at her), you are here to be liberated. And I even think you’re going to have a good time. I hope you enjoy it. Okay, it was my duty to let you know when you were in your right mind. Now drink some water, it’s necessary to stay hydrated here.
Mylene grabbed the water bottle and held it close to Thunberg’s face, so he could see it was sealed. Then she opened it and poured half a glass. Thunberg said «thank you,» drank, and exchanged a few more words with Mylene, while she gently led her back to the sun lounger, where Greta Thunberg felt dizzy, sat down, and fell asleep again.
________
²Weather and climate in Spanish have similar uses. “Clima”, in the original. N. of T.
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Second session.
Morley: Recording this is illegal, isn’t?
Me: We’re way above what’s legal and what’s not.
Thunberg must have been having the best dreams of her life up until then. She was lying face up in the circular bed in the middle of the immense bedroom with a panoramic view of the Bolívar jungle. She was resting her cheek on the white bedclothes, next to her relaxed hand with her fingers half-closed. However, Thunberg wasn’t feeling very deep, since she was slightly furrowing her brows and pressing her lips together. She was also making very faint moans, which came from deep in her stomach with such little force that they almost disappeared before leaving Greta’s nose.
Morley: That’s it, Dob, go on, go on.
Me: This isn’t a porn movie, Morley; it’s a deprogramming job.
Morley: (pressing the mute button) Well, I want Unwetto to ‘deprogram’ me too.
Me: You slut.
What Unwetto was doing at that moment was performing agitated cunnilingus on Thunberg. The subject pressed his face against Greta’s sex, grabbing her with his hands at the base of her open legs. He performed very energetic licks and sucked on her joined lips. Because of his race, Unwetto had lips three times the volume of Greta’s, so she wasn’t seeing them yet, but she was feeling them. It’s worth mentioning that Unwetto seemed very happy.
Morley: Tone it down, Dob.
Unwetto obeyed and removed his mouth from Greta Thunberg’s pink vagina, which only had a faint mustache, the same color as her hair, and was all covered in the drool of the WhatsApp nigga. Thunberg moved her pelvis in an almost hypnotic manner, back and forth, and was still asleep but gesticulating and moaning. Dobbery planted a resounding kiss on the junction of her vaginal lips, to which the subject responded with an especially loud moan. Inspired, Dobbery advanced on her on all fours and lay down beside her. He simply gazed at her and stroked her hair and sometimes the side of her face with his fingertips. After ten minutes, Greta stopped wiggling and fell back into a deep reverie.
Me: Enough for today.
The following sessions should increase in intensity, including Greta being conscious, unafraid, and indulging in the sweetness of sex, and eventually, explicitly or implicitly asking to be penetrated. After that point, Cupid W would conduct a test in which Thunberg would have to choose (without being aware that she would have to choose) between the pleasure of life and the fight against supposed climate change. As the moment drew to a close, the world’s press was tearing its hair out over Greta Thunberg’s disappearance, and Cupid W was constantly harassed by cabal henchmen. They feared we would succeed, and a renewed Greta would appear on the scene, motivating the world’s youth to be happy instead of swallowing lies. For that reason, they didn’t come to rescue Greta but to kill her. Being able to show her dead would be very useful to the lie they were working for.
Besieged by dark forces, we had to leave for another city, but still retaining the tropical feel. We landed in Aruba.
Third session.
For Cupid W, Greta’s nakedness and watching her—at first unconscious—enjoy herself like crazy was already routine. Several agents were just developing protective feelings toward her. What none of us had yet seen was John Unwetto’s member. Until then, he had performed without removing his baggy yellow Bermuda shorts. «He should wear only the piluso and the towel,» Morley joked.
By the third session, settled in a private residence in Aruba, the members of Cupid W were very anxious and almost embarrassed by the success of the mission. Like a crack in a fire hose, Greta Thunberg’s aesthetic vagina spurted jets of liquid while she trembled on the bed like a fish dying on the planks of a dock. She was abandoned to pleasure, with her small, bald eyes and the pupils half-hidden in the eyelids that vibrated as if from a passing electric current. The nipples of her perfect adolescent breasts were very erect and pointed at the shadow cop. She had been pumping her youthful juices into the WhatsApp nigga, for just over a minute, who, smiling and sometimes even laughing, dodged the young woman’s line of fire only to return to her. His black back, with its patchy hairiness, glistened with viscous female ejaculate, emanating from Greta’s happiness.
The best part of the third session was that Greta Thunberg was fully conscious. The deprogrammer had used a wand-type vibrator. Mylene and Unwetto worked on her psychology arduously, with love, laughter, and patience. To reach the point reached in the third session, it was also necessary for Thunberg to witness sexual contact between O’Hara and Unwetto. At the agent’s request, this report will not include details about this act.
Greta was still a virgin. To be penetrated, she had to be the one who asked for it. The reader is reminded that the objective of the mission was never to abuse Thunberg (abuse would only worsen her mental state), but to deprogram her. Greta Thunberg’s abundant squirt inspired a vulgar comment from O’hara: “I knew we were going to get climate change out of her head, but I didn’t know we were going to get it out via her pussy.” Morley pressed the button to talk to Unwetto, but gave up when he saw what he was doing and said to us, “Look at this one, he doesn’t need any more instructions.” What Unwetto did was lie down next to Thunberg, crawl in behind her in a “spoon” position, and bury his face in her neck to sleep.
Fourth Session
By the time of the fourth session, Mylene had reached a level of rapport with the subject corresponding to that of a friend-confidant. It’s worth emphasizing that Greta Thunberg’s previous lifestyle did not allow for interpersonal relationships of that level, firstly because of her Asperger’s syndrome and secondly, and more importantly, because of the mind control exercised by the promoters of Agenda 21. For approximately three and a half years, Thunberg had been nothing more than a barely conscious entity tied to strings pulled by a sinister puppeteer. But this agency, through Cupid W and especially Agent O’Hara and the WhatsApp nigga, was seeking Greta Thunberg’s recovery and projecting this achievement into the dissemination of the truth about a previous flood of falsehoods.
Agent O’Hara, with her front identity as Mylene; and the subject, Greta, shared confidences about Thunberg’s recent sexual awakening, which was a new and liberating experience for the subject. Cupid W closely followed every detail, assessing Thunberg’s progress:
Thunberg: I never would have imagined going through something like this. It makes me a little scared… and guilty… but… (smiles).
Behind the smile, Thunberg shrugs her shoulders and buries her face in her hands. Cupid W jumps up and down in celebration.
Thunberg: I have a knot in the pit of my stomach! A part of me is rejoicing… (gesturing with her hands and face, a behavior that had not been recorded).
The entire Cupid W is almost in tears. They feel like they have recovered an MK Ultra victim. Morley caresses the minor’s face on the monitor.
Thunberg:…But another part of me feels guilty. Here I am having fun and my parents don’t even know where I am! But that’s not the worst of it: While I’m here doing all this, thousands of factories around the world continue emitting carbon without anyone caring!
Morley despaired and kicked the console.
Me: Calm down, Morley. Progress is step by step.
O’Hara: (takes Greta’s hands with her obvious approval, another sign of liberation) Greta: In life, one doesn’t regret what one does, but what one doesn’t do. Look, it means a lot to me, you don’t know how much, that you’re here with me. Do you remember the gala in Warsaw…
Mylene resorted to a memory from one of their first nights together, not detailed in this report.
(…)…that the world is changed by thought?
Thunberg: With that again? I already told you, the world is changed by actions.
Morley: She’s screwed. Not even the Whatsapp guy can deprogram this poor girl.
Me: Wanna bet?
Thunberg: “Evil prevails when men do not act.”
O’Hara: No. Evil prevails when men do not think. When you act, you become what you fight. Besides, what you just said is a slogan. It’s something that everyone repeats and believes is true. Those who invent slogans do know that the world is transformed by thought, and they tell everyone what to think through the slogan. Think about that.
Thunberg: (Slumps over) You’re weird, Mylene.
Me: I think I just fell in love with Officer O’Hara.
Fifth session.
The next session took place after the transfer to the Cayman Islands, due to persecution by cabal agents. Thunberg had to be sedated by Cupid W during each assault, since the attempts on her life would ruin the entire mission.
John Unwetto worked with the utmost professionalism, and apparently he had Greta in love with her. A commendable achievement.
From the docks of Grand Cayman, the Sophya yacht set sail, a small private yacht provided to us by people loyal to our cause. Chatting at the bow were the young woman, who had somewhat recovered the mental faculties of her adolescence, and next to her, her main deprogrammer. They were side by side and belly up. The younger woman wore a black two-piece swimsuit that contrasted tremendously with her skin. The upper part had a special design on the cups, producing a very sensual effect, as they appeared to be ripped. The bottom half did the same at the hip, with fake rips that narrowed toward the center. Unwetto wore the piluso hat and towel, at the request of Officer Morley. For Thunberg, remaining separated from her world (though not yet from her ‘cause’), from her parents, from the press, and from school—without notice or explanation—was proving extremely pleasurable. But there was still work to be done:
Thunberg: These yachts run on diesel. They release a significant amount of carbon into the atmosphere. If we truly want to save the planet, we must not underestimate ANY source of emissions.
At the brief speech, Paul Dobbery palmed his face and rubbed his hand from his forehead to his chin. On Cupid W, who was unusually far away on a catamaran about 1.5 km away, we knew that Dobbery had been trying to seduce her for several hours, but Thunberg’s guilt at being in paradise while ‘the world was drowning in carbon’ was greater than her. After half an hour, the girl was still rambling on about the weather, so Morley ordered Unwetto:
Morley: Step on the gas, John! The WhatsApp guy played his first card. He tried to do something like what O’Hara had done last time, but unfortunately he wasn’t as skillful or educated as she was.
Unwetto: We have to talk about something different, don’t we? Did you know that variety is the spice of life?
That’s where it backfired:
Thunberg: That’s a slogan, Paul! Be careful repeating what everyone else says, because they could control your thinking and distract you from something as important as your carbon footprint!
Morley: It’s a bitch!
But Unwetto was inspired by the combination of excitement and despair at not being able to approach Greta:
Unwetto: And what do you think of this other topic? Tell me if it’s something everyone repeats: Do you, Greta, care about size?
Thunberg: Size of what?
Morley and I were the ones who slapped each other in the face.
Thunberg: Oh, don’t tell me you’re going to bring up that trivial topic!
Unwetto: Tell me! Do you think it’s a topic I touch on because everyone’s talking about it?
Thunberg: Yes (she made a rather childish gesture).
Unwetto: Well, no. Everyone talks about it because they feel they’ve got it too small. And I touch on the subject for the complete opposite.
Greta froze. There was Dobbery again ‘asking’ her, although this time with great tact.
Unwetto: (turns his back from the deck and leans on an elbow) Honey, Mylene and I know that you’d already seen my photos before you met me.
As Thunberg was still frozen, Morley and I pressed ourselves to the edges of our seats.
Unwetto: Tell me, do you mind size?
Thunberg: Fine, I’ll accept it. An activist in Sweden, who was kind of perverted, once played a prank on me on WhatsApp. He said, «Look at the newest member of the organization.» Then I scrolled down your picture and saw which member he was referring to. You want an honest answer? If I didn’t know that… that it was you… well, size wouldn’t matter to me. But it matters to me precisely because I know it’s you. You know what I mean?
Morley and I were already standing, rubbing our fingertips together in front of the monitors, as if they were about to take the penalty kick that would decide the World Cup. The spy camera was attached to the bowsprit of the Sophya. There was a brief silence, during which Unwetto stroked Thunberg on the side of her face. Morley mumbled, «Genius, genius!» Thunberg bit her lip.
Morley: «Speak up, silly!»
Thunberg: «You’ve been very special, very respectful and decent to me.» But I am a vir…
Although it is obvious that she said “virgin,” the audio transcript is not complete because the word is inaudible because Morley and I screamed with excitement and hit the console.
Unwetto: (After approaching her ear, he whispered) I promise I will be two or three times as nice now (he kissed her neck).
The WhatsApp nigga put his arm around the thin girl and rolled her on top of him, a movement to which she offered no resistance. Being on top of him, she whispered:
Thunberg: In here? I feel so weird. Let’s go inside.
Unwetto: Tell me, in these past few days, what hasn’t been weird for you ?
Thunberg: Everything has been weird, but the weirder, the more wonderful.
They began to kiss. Morley and I stretched our arms to the sky.
John Unwetto stroked Thunberg’s back for several minutes, running his fingertips up and down, over and over again. The younger girl’s long hair fanned out like dragonfly wings to the sides. In a slow motion, Unwetto rolled over and got on top of her.
Me: I wish O’Hara were here.
Morley: But she can watch it later.
Me: Not to see the sex, but so she could celebrate with us.
O’Hara had left 10 hours earlier for George Town, to meet the people who had provided us with both the Sophya and the surveillance catamaran. These were people whose businesses would be severely affected if anti-carbon policies were implemented. After doing us the favor of lending the boats, they asked for a favor in return, and O’Hara went with them.
Meanwhile, Greta Thunberg was losing her virginity with the WhatsApp nigga on the bow of a luxurious private yacht. John Unwetto was a little out of control, having finally penetrated Greta. But he could be given a little momentum. He was sucking on Thunberg’s fleshy little nipples, who was biting her lower lip with her upper teeth and squirming a lot. «Oh, Paul…» she moaned. Something that had never happened before, and it added even more to Cupid W’s cause for celebration. None of this was new to Thunberg, as she had been having non-penetrative sex with Dobbery for days. Dobbery descended the sensual vertical line that bisected Thunberg’s back. He ran his hyper-sized lips along it like a path. Thunberg raised her hips as if on an impulse, almost putting her pubic bone in Dobbery’s face.
Morley: This rice is already cooked.
Dobbery used his hands and removed Thunberg’s bikini bottom. Her cute little bottom fell naked onto the deck, where Dobbery then fell in next, practicing his frantic oral sex. Thunberg seemed distraught. After talking to psychologists and psychiatrists over the last few weeks while preparing for the mission, my mind was somewhat disturbed and I tended to analyze everyone’s behavior—even my own. Watching Greta Thunberg receive Unwetto’s powerful tongue-licking, and how the young woman made gestures that almost deformed her face, how she squeezed one breast on the verge of violence, and how with her other hand she pressed Dobbery’s head against her young and pretty vagina, made me analyze the relationship between pleasure and pain. Anyone who didn’t know what sex is and the pleasure it produces (a small child, for example), seeing this, would think Thunberg was immersed in pain. But the truth is, she loved it.
Morley: Could it be that her tongue is as long as her phallus?
Me: Well, it seems that way.
Morley left for a moment and returned with a bottle of champagne. He started to open it, but I stopped him.
Me: This isn’t time to celebrate. Remember, the ultimate goal isn’t for Unwetto to penetrate her—not even that’s happening yet. The ultimate goal is for her to stop caring about his cause and for her to step back into the public arena and declare that she doesn’t care. We’ll toast that day.
Morley shrugged.
Me: Sorry.
Morley: No, you’re right.
The crucial moment arrived. Unwetto pulled down his Bermuda shorts. Morley uttered a heavy word. I almost did too. Unwetto, expert and also, by nature, gentle, sat down and pulled the trembling Thunberg towards him. After several seconds of hesitation, she looked down at the legendary phallus. With one hand and extreme shyness, she grasped it with one hand while covering the lower part of her face with the other. Dobbery continued to stroke her and placed the occasional kiss on her head. After many more endless seconds, Thunberg also used her other hand to explore the enormous member. She stroked it like a pet, and it became more and more erect.
Morley: It trembles like jelly.
Another eternity passed, and Unwetto had to act. He grabbed Thunberg by the back of the neck and pushed her down. For the first moment, she resisted, but she seemed to recognize that this was her man and that she had nothing to fear.
Morley: Now say something about climate change!
The officer made the comment at the exact moment Thunberg’s thin little mouth engulfed Unwetto’s glans. The black man began making doggy-like movements in her face, grabbing her by the hair. There was no resistance; on the contrary, after a minute, Greta had both hands on the phallus and was rubbing it continuously while she sucked. She seemed to want, as they would say in an adult film, ‘to get more juice out of him.’ When Greta seemed to choke, Dobbery pulled his head out of the little Swede’s mouth, which released a tidal wave of fluids, including her saliva, his pre-cum, and an arousing guttural sound of attempted regurgitation. Dobbery used his phallus to tap Thunberg’s face, who seemed fascinated by it. She even craned her neck to expose more of her face to the delicious humiliation. Dobbery then used both hands to push Thunberg back onto the deck. She fell with her eyes almost closed, rubbing her slender back with both hands. Dobbery positioned himself over her with his enormous tool in his hand.
Morley: (He grabbed my hand) It’s time.
The black guy from WhatsApp penetrated Greta Thunberg, slowly, one centimeter per minute. She still seemed to be tortured, but she enjoyed it. At times, she placed both palms on Dobbery’s chest, but then she would return them to his back, encouraging him to push. After a long fifteen minutes, the slow deflowering game ended. She couldn’t take it anymore. It was her first time. She wasn’t going to endure the 45 cm the first time. So, with more than half of his member out, Dobbery pumped. Greta Thunberg seemed to be in another world. She was even sobbing, but she continued digging her nails into Unwetto’s back. Another fifteen minutes passed, after which Dobbery moved his young lover on top of him. Thunberg rode like an expert. Her rear muscles moved without her permission to engulf more and more of the phallus. Her buttocks seemed to have an independent will and move like the cheeks of someone sucking through a cigarette. Greta’s moans could be classified as highly arousing. Anyone with an ounce of empathy would get wet just hearing her. Dobbery continued running his hands up and down Thunberg’s back, as she leaned against his chest and rode frantically. At a certain point, her movements became more electric, her moans more ventral and unconscious.
Morley: She’s going to cum. Let’s toast, go for it.
I nodded. As the jet of foamy champagne—and very expensive, since it had also been supplied by those who provided us with the Sophya—filled the glass with its provocative color and sound, Greta Thunberg’s jet also occurred. Dobbery sensed that she would squirt and ended intercourse to let her fall and stimulate her a little with his hand. Greta’s respiratory disorder was so uncontrolled that she tried to scream, but only weak croaks came out. She trembled there on the bow, sprawled out and as if in agony, sending pleasant jets of her feminine fluid into the outside world.
Me: Not to victory, because we don’t have it yet, but let’s toast to Greta (I raised my glass).
Morley raised his, but before we could make the resounding clink, the silence was broken by my phone. The screen said «message from O’Hara.» I put down my glass to answer. While the black guy on WhatsApp masturbated near Greta Thunberg’s pale, trembling face, my knees buckled and I had to grab the console to keep from falling. The message included a photo. In it, you could see Agent O’Hara sitting on the floor, dead and bathed in her own blood. He stood with his back to a closed door, a cord tied around his neck and the doorknob. An unmistakable sign of Illuminati revenge. The call from the Sophya’s owners had obviously been fake.
I remained in shock for a few minutes, while Morley continued to revel in the spectacle on the bow of the Sophya. Much later, he would tell me that Thunberg rubbed Unwetto’s sperm all over her back and face, using both hands.
After that, the sessions with Greta went on in a funereal manner. Unwetto himself had to carry out the tests, which, although they came back 100% satisfactory, didn’t lead to any celebration:
Unwetto (at a hotel in Havana, Cuba): What do you want to do, Greta?
Thunberg: I want to go home.
Unwetto: And what about «Fridays for Future»?
Thunberg: I’m tired of all that, you know? I just want to see my parents.
What should have been a roar of celebratory shouts and the sound of champagne spilling from Cupid W was nothing more than a simple «mission accomplished» and the act of turning off the monitors and the console by what remained of the team.
A week later, the task of putting Greta Thunberg back into the media, now deprogrammed, was nearing completion, but carried out by another team. What was Cupid W had no morale left.
I waited in my hotel room in Washington, in front of the television, waiting for the historic moment when Greta Thunberg would declare that climate change was nothing to worry about and that everyone should instead have fun and love each other. After a pompous introduction by a news anchor, the satellite came online and Greta Thunberg appeared, saying, «I’ve been away for a few weeks, but I’m back, and my determination is stronger than ever! The fact that they want to make me disappear or silence me only shows that they are desperate and that we are winning!» I couldn’t hold my jaw. Had Operation Stallion One failed? My cell phone rang twenty minutes later, and I saw the screen saying, «Message from Dobbery.» I was afraid to open it, thinking they might have killed him too. But I opened it, having no other choice, and Greta appeared. She was being secretly recorded from a window. She had her hair down, a jumper, and a hat. She was on the phone with someone and looked distraught. Then the person recording appeared. It was the WhatsApp nigga. He reported, «Greta is with me. She has been the whole time. That woman on TV is not the real Greta Thunberg. We fear for our lives more than ever.»
So the cabal had cloned Greta Thunberg and would continue with its agenda of lying until they took control of the entire world, as if nothing had happened.
How I wish I hadn’t lost O’Hara; then I could give more value to the fact that, while we didn’t save the world, at least we saved the person. We saved Greta Thunberg.
The End.
©2022 Stregoika
Original in Spanish.