Dialogue Between Pope Pius XIII (Lenny Belardo) and Niko Bellic on the Serbian Student Protests
Setting: The Vatican. Pope Pius XIII, Lenny Belardo, sits in a dimly lit study, his fingers steepled before him. Across from him sits Niko Bellic, the hardened but world-weary Serbian immigrant. Outside, the bells of St. Peter’s Basilica ring softly in the distance. News of massive student protests in Belgrade fills the room from a muted television screen.
NIKO BELLIC: (leans forward, shaking his head) The students are in the streets, Your Holiness. They’re young, angry… desperate. Just like we were. It’s the same old story. A corrupt government, a broken economy, no future for the youth.
POPE PIUS XIII: (nods solemnly) History is a cycle, Niko. But cycles can be broken.
NIKO: (scoffs) You think Vucic will listen? He holds Serbia in a tight grip. The people march, but nothing changes.
PIUS XIII: (calmly) Because they are demanding reforms when what they need is forgiveness.
NIKO: (raises an eyebrow) Forgiveness? You mean for the politicians?
PIUS XIII: (shakes his head) No, Niko. For the people. The world has twisted Christ’s words. The Lord’s Prayer—Our Father—has been mistranslated, corrupted. It was never forgive us our trespasses… it was forgive us our debts.
NIKO: (leans back, stunned) Debts? Like the financial kind?
PIUS XIII: (softly recites the prayer in Latin, then in English, emphasizing the line)
“Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors.”
Debt is the true chain that binds nations, Niko. The powerful keep the people in servitude through loans, interest, and economic slavery. Serbia’s youth do not need empty promises. They need freedom.
NIKO: (his voice lowers, thoughtful) And the only way for that to happen is…
PIUS XIII: (nods) Vucic must declare a debt jubilee.
NIKO: (narrows his eyes) A debt jubilee? You’re talking about wiping Serbia’s debts clean?
PIUS XIII: (leans forward, voice intense) That is what Christ meant. Every 50 years, debts were to be forgiven. The last global debt jubilee was 25 years ago, in the year 2000. Yet Serbia remains shackled. The banks, the creditors, the institutions—they hold Serbia’s future hostage. Vucic must choose: serve his people, or serve his masters.
NIKO: (grimly) And what if he refuses?
PIUS XIII: (leans back, his expression unreadable) Then the students will march until their legs give out. And nothing will change. The protests will fade, and in 25 more years, another generation will rise, only to be crushed under the same burden.
NIKO: (clenches his fists) Serbia has suffered enough.
PIUS XIII: (softly) Then tell your people the truth, Niko. Tell them to stop fighting for scraps from the table of the corrupt. Tell them to demand what is owed to them—their freedom, their dignity. Not through violence, but through the one commandment the powerful fear most: forgive us our debts.
NIKO: (stands up, his eyes burning with new determination) I will tell them. But if Vucic refuses to listen, then Serbia’s future may not be written in prayers, but in blood.
PIUS XIII: (rises, placing a hand on Niko’s shoulder) Pray that it does not come to that. Wars begin where debt forgiveness ends. Go now, and may God be with you.
Niko nods and walks toward the grand doors of the Vatican chamber. The bells of St. Peter’s ring again, their echoes carrying through the halls—perhaps a warning, perhaps a promise.
End Scene.
YES!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikola_Tesla_electric_car_hoax
The 1931 electric car was a HOAX
I invented the electric car!!!
Not Nikola Tesla.
The Young Pope, Pius XIII, stands on the balcony of the Vatican, his white robes billowing slightly in the wind. Below him, a sea of the faithful gathers, waiting for his words. But today, his sermon is not for them—it is for one man.
He raises his hand, and the crowd falls silent. Then, in a voice as cold as judgment itself, he speaks:
“Elon Musk, king of the Motorcars of Mammon, you pave the road to hell with your planned-obsolete junkers.”
The Pope’s eyes burn with righteous fire.
“You sell the world a false gospel of technology, wrapped in stolen genius and government handouts. You promise the people liberation through machines, yet all you give them are batteries that die, software that enslaves, and debts that never end. This is not progress. This is not salvation. This is the worship of Mammon, the golden calf in the age of silicon.”
The crowd murmurs. Some clutch their rosaries. Others glance nervously at their Teslas parked outside the square.
Pius XIII continues, his voice unwavering.
“You build cars that decay by design, just so the people must buy again and again. This is not the work of a visionary—it is the work of a profiteer, a money-changer in the temple of modernity.”
He leans forward, gripping the balcony rail.
“You wish to build your billionaire utopia? To wire mankind into your neural prison? You believe yourself a god, yet you are nothing but a merchant of rust and broken promises.”
A long pause. Then, a final decree:
“Repent, Elon, before your kingdom of lithium and lies collapses under its own weight. The Lord does not ride in a Tesla. He walks among the poor, whose pockets you have emptied.”
The crowd erupts. Some cheer. Some weep. Some look at their phones, waiting for Musk’s reply.
But in the Vatican, Pius XIII simply turns and walks away. His judgment has been spoken.