Join my Patreon: / skilawai . There was an idea. An idea to take one of the most emotionally charged, narratively complex, fan-rewarding spectacles in cinematic history—and absolutely ruin it. Again, not by accident. Not subtly. But thoroughly. Systematically. On purpose. With AI. This is Avengers: Endgame Ruined by AI. The culmination of chaos. The finale of confusion. The final battle, rewritten with a total disregard for tone, logic, or canon. Everything you remember about Endgame is still here—technically. But now it’s wearing the wrong clothes, quoting outdated memes, and possibly reciting Shakespeare backwards while flying a taco truck through the Quantum Realm. The snap still happens. But it’s followed by a dance number. The portals still open. But instead of heroes, we get several versions of Korg, a time-traveling cow, and a man named Greg who swears he was in the original timeline. Iron Man still makes the sacrifice play. But instead of “I am Iron Man,” his last words are: “Activate Scone Protocol.” Steve Rogers still goes back in time. But he returns as a jazz musician with no memory of the war, and insists that Peggy is actually a figment of his imagination. Thor never gets over the events of Infinity War. Instead, he becomes a full-time Twitch streamer and refuses to join the battle unless he can cast his own hype music in real-time. His hammer leaves him. His axe writes a manifesto. Bruce Banner merges with the Hulk. But it doesn’t go well this time. It goes sideways. He becomes part philosopher, part salad bar. At one point he debates Thanos about metaphysics, and it somehow ends in interpretive dance. Clint and Natasha still journey to Vormir. But Red Skull has changed. He now offers three options: sacrifice, a riddle, or a three-legged race. Clint chooses violence. Natasha chooses jazz. Neither of them understands what’s happening, but they still cry a little. The Quantum Time Heist becomes a bureaucratic nightmare. Scott Lang forgets what year it is and spends most of the film trying to convince a 1994 Pepsi machine to give him the Soul Stone. Rhodey ends up in an alternate reality where every Avenger is just Bruce Campbell. Thanos is no longer inevitable. He is confused. He questions why the Avengers seem to be arguing in haiku, why Hawkeye has formed a cult in the ruins of Tokyo, and why Tony Stark keeps calling him "Daddy Grape." At one point, the Infinity Gauntlet is mistaken for a coffee maker. At another, Nebula explains the concept of morality using sock puppets. Drax narrates the entire battle like it’s a nature documentary, and nobody can stop him. Nothing makes sense anymore. Not the rules of time travel. Not the character arcs. Not even gravity. And yet… despite everything… something shines through. Beneath the glitches, the plot holes, the motivational speeches that lead nowhere, there is something oddly familiar. Hope. Loss. A group of broken people doing their best to stand up one last time. Even if they’re standing on a floating taco made of lightning. This version of Endgame doesn’t ask you to suspend disbelief. It throws disbelief into a wormhole, ties it to a raccoon with daddy issues, and forces it to battle Loki’s ego in a wrestling ring made of memory. This is not fan fiction. This is not parody. This is Endgame dragged screaming through the uncanny valley and deposited on the shores of digital nonsense. This is where heroism meets entropy. Where legacy meets glitch. Where AI says, “What if Captain Marvel was also an espresso machine?” and nobody stops it. If you've followed me through other cinematic crimes—if you survived Cars 3, Toy Story, Spider-Man, and all the beautifully broken things before—then welcome. You already know what this is. But if this is your first time? If you're seeing your favorite film fractured and reassembled by a digital gremlin who doesn't know what an Avenger is? Then sit back. Relax. Or scream. That’s fine too. Because this is Avengers: Endgame Ruined by AI. And in the end… Nothing is avenged. #ai #avengers #endgame #avengersendgame #marvel #ruinedbyai