Nick Fuentes looks at Trump, at the deportation numbers, he scoffs. “Down 3 million, WE wanted 10… looks like I’m voting Democrat these midterms. we need an Adolf Hitler, not whatever this is. Hitler will save us.” Trump loses the house. 2 years later, Vance is running against Newsom for the presidency. Having been kneecapped during the midterms, progress was slow, but not zero! Trump did everything in his power to quell the great replacement. For the first time ever the white population increased by a single percentage point. It’s not much, but it’s a start. Nick looks at the headlines running across his screen. His face still hardens. “Women can STILL vote… Israel is STILL an ally… good luck fixing anything. They need to learn another lesson it seems. We need a HITLER! Hitler will save us.” Fuentes votes Democrat. Newsom wins the presidency 4 years later, 20 million migrants have streamed across the border. A Nick Shirley video filmed in Tijuana reveals they give every migrant who crosses a cute little care package dubbed the “Ms Rachel Empathy box.” It contains fertility drugs, voter ID, a loaded handgun, and a prepaid debit card to purchase a starter home in a red state of their choice. The republicans, stricken by infighting, and living in fear of the nearly insurmountable new voting block fail to find an exciting new candidate. They field Vance one more time. Fuentes can’t believe his eyes. “The Peter Thiel funded degenerate jeet fucker, they can’t be serious!?” He shouts. Donald trump, now on his deathbed, has entirely slipped into senile madness. His corpse barely kept animated by an IV feeding a constant drip of Diet Coke. What little is left of his body continues to post “truths” that are tens of thousands of words long. Solid walls of incoherent babbling calling Obama a retarded nigger and Chelsea Clinton a “big girl.” But on this sacred election night, Trump pulls together enough of his decaying mind to make a single truth, his final truth. “VANCE IS BASED, HE MAKES FUN OF HIS WIFES GROSS CURRY PUSSY BEHIND CLOSED DOORS ALL THE TIME. HE IS LAST CHANCE.” Trump passes away peacefully the moment he hits send. But alas, Nick ignored the post, for his mind had been made. He doesn’t bother voting. This country is fucked. He starts a broadcast and warns that For the LAST TIME, he will be voting for a Hitler in the next election or he won’t be voting at all. HITLER will save us. But for Fuentes, the next election would never come, that very night a Hatian migrant pushed him onto the train tracks because he mistook his incredibly diminutive stature for that of an old Chinese woman. The migrant has killed about one a week since he entered in May. The very next day a now entirely Negro jury reviews the evidence and finds Nicks killer not guilty. The niggers agree that Nick did in fact look a lot like an old Chinese woman from behind. Nick wakes up in a world made of white puffy clouds, quickly coming to his senses before a blinding light appears before him. A light so bright it shines through his very soul. He feels a wave of goodness wash over him, he senses that this is a being made of pure warmth, of pure joy, of pure love. It is Adolf Hitler himself. Nick falls to his knees before him and weeps. “Hitler! why did you not save us?!?” Hitler smiles with the warmth of a father. He gently brushes a tear off of Nicks cheek. Nick nestles into Hitlers warm hand and closes his eyes. “My dear boy, I sent you republicans 3 separate times.”