Trey Knowles' Harvest Food is a satirical allegorical comedy built around a simple but thought-provoking question: “What kind of harvest do you want to gather?” In the story, Trey asks American audiences what they do with spoiled or unhealthy food. Most respond that bad fruit is discarded and cannot be kept. The audience does not realize they have been led into a moral trap, and through their own words they unknowingly pronounce judgment on themselves. Through humor and irony, the conversation becomes a metaphor about discernment, personal choices, and the consequences of what people cultivate in their lives—spiritually, morally, and culturally. The audience gradually realizes that the “harvest” represents the values and behaviors a society chooses to celebrate or reject. Using biblical imagery—such as warnings about desolation and the moral decline described in Romans 1—the story presents a call to repentance, humility, and spiritual reflection. Rather than condemning individuals, the allegory challenges readers to examine their own lives, asking what kind of fruit they are producing and what kind of harvest they are preparing.

Trey Knowles' The Yiddish Interpreter is an allegorical satire that delivers a provocative message through sharp comedy and symbolism.

In the story, extremist figures conduct secret conversations in Yiddish about misdirected government funds—money intended for Israeli Ashkenazi Jews and the Rothschild's disappears into powerful financial hands. Meanwhile, a religious authority figure, symbolizing an empire-driven institution, works to distance people from a direct relationship with God.

When Trey Knowles is kidnapped and forced to serve as the interpreter of these concealed discussions, he becomes the unexpected bridge between hidden agendas and public truth.

Through satire, irony, and layered symbolism, the story exposes a deeper spiritual conflict—contrasting corruption and manipulation with the call to personal faith, discernment, and spiritual freedom.

In his stand-up bit “The Vatican Is Stealing,” Trey Knowles delivers a bold and humorous warning to his audience to “watch out for the Vatican,” playfully calling it the ultimate thief. With sharp satire, Trey jokes that if they could steal from Jesus, they could steal from anyone. He quips that they “took” Peter the Apostle and claimed the keys of heaven for themselves.

Keeping his tongue firmly in cheek, Trey pushes the exaggeration even further, teasing that you can't trust your little boys—or even your real estate—around them. Through over-the-top humor, he uses satire to question power, tradition, and institutional authority.

In his 2025 comedy special “Leo,” Trey Knowles jokes about the newly elected Pope, playfully insisting that he's not about to call that man “father.” He laughs at the coincidence that Pope Leo happens to be connected to Chicago's 60606 zip code, adding his own comedic spin to the moment.

With his signature humor, Trey reminds audiences of Yeshua's teaching not to call any man on earth “father,” because there is only one Father in heaven. Through satire and wit, he nudges listeners to think about the weight we place on religious titles, encouraging them to seek spiritual truth over earthly labels.

In “Pawns of America,” Trey Knowles turns the stage into a chessboard — and asks one bold question: Are we players… or pieces?

Blending sharp allegory with fearless satire, Trey explores the idea that the real battle isn't just political or cultural — it's spiritual. With dramatic humor and layered metaphors, he compares modern America to a strategic game where powerful forces move people like pawns, targeting their desires, fears, and ideologies to keep them divided.

Through clever punchlines and exaggerated storytelling, Trey unpacks how manipulation, gaslighting, and greed can steer entire populations. He jokes about the “Haves,” the “Have-Nots,” and the “Have-a-Little, Want More” crowd — the middle stuck in between — trying to play it safe in a high-stakes poker game of power.

But at its core, this isn't just political satire. It's spiritual comedy with an edge. Trey challenges the audience to armor up, stand firm, and refuse to be controlled by whatever “principalities” are trending this election cycle.

Provocative. Thought-provoking. Unapologetically bold.

This is “Pawns of America.”

In “Computer Malware,” Trey Knowles turns the human brain into a laptop… and temptation into a pop-up ad you definitely should not click.

With clever tech metaphors and exaggerated spiritual humor, Trey jokes that your mind works just like a computer system — and if you're not careful, the “enemy” will try to download some corrupted files.

False information? That's spam. Bad habits? That's spyware. Negative thoughts? Full-blown malware. In this fast-paced comedy short, Trey hilariously compares spiritual battles to virus attacks, warning the audience to update their mental firewall and stop clicking on suspicious links — in life and online.

It's playful, dramatic, and packed with punchlines about protecting both your computer and your consciousness from what he jokingly calls a “Satan virus.” It's not a tech seminar. It's not a sermon. It's Trey Knowles running a diagnostic scan on modern life — and finding comedy in the code. Welcome to “Computer Malware.

In “Mortal Kombat,” Trey Knowles steps into the arena for his most outrageous, over-the-top battle yet — and in the opposite corner stands the entertainment giant, The Walt Disney Company… at least in Trey's wildly exaggerated imagination.

With video-game intensity and cartoon-level drama, Trey hilariously frames his comedy special like a boss fight. He jokingly accuses the kingdom of castles and cartoons of slipping “wickedness” into children's entertainment — not as a serious claim, but as a playful, hyperbolic metaphor turned all the way up.

In true Trey fashion, the punches are verbal, the drama is theatrical, and the metaphors are bigger than life. He nicknames Disney a “tribe called quest,” claiming — purely for laughs — that they must have contracts with every witch on the planet because how else do they run the world of magic and fantasy so well?

And when Trey “exposes” them on stage? In his story, the empire doesn't send lawyers — they try to stone him like it's medieval times. It's absurd. It's animated. It's satire dialed to maximum.

This isn't a documentary. It's not an indictment. It's comedy turned into a boss-level showdown. Finish him? No. Just laugh. Welcome to “Mortal Kombat.”

In “Stay Away from Those Demons,” Trey Knowles delivers a hilarious, over-the-top warning to his audience: protect your soul… and maybe your inbox. With dramatic flair and tongue firmly planted in cheek, Trey jokes that demons aren't just hiding in horror movies anymore — they've got marketing teams. According to Trey, Hollywood can't make a blockbuster without summoning something, and somehow “demon content” keeps winning awards. From movies to music to mysterious spam emails at 2:17 a.m., Trey hilariously suggests that “demon stuff” is everywhere. He playfully asks the crowd, “Why does every scary movie family move into the haunted house? It's always a discount… that's how they get you!” Blending exaggerated paranoia with sharp observational humor, Trey turns pop culture, entertainment, and everyday life into one big supernatural joke. It's not a sermon — it's satire. It's not fear — it's funny. So check your inbox, double-check your streaming queue, and get ready to laugh. This is Trey Knowles' “Stay Away from Those Demons.”