In his hilarious stand-up set “The Republican Church,” Trey Knowles jokes that Republican Evangelicals shouldn't bother inviting him to their church—because, as he quips, “Y'all don't know Jesus.” With fearless satire, he skewers what he sees as a politics-first version of faith, calling out a culture that professes God with its lips while straying far from the heart and spirit of Christ. Blending bold humor with sharp cultural insight, the performance is as provocative as it is laugh-out-loud funny.

In this comedy performance, Trey Knowles delivers sharp, humorous commentary on politicians who claim to stand for Jesus and say they “vote for Jesus,” yet refuse to live according to His teachings. Through satire, Trey questions how someone can identify as an Evangelical Christian, declare their loyalty to faith at the ballot box, and still harbor deep political hostility or prioritize personal interests over spiritual principles.

He also pokes fun at Democrats who claim to support Jesus while embracing behaviors that critics argue conflict with biblical values.

With bold humor, Trey highlights what he sees as political and moral hypocrisy on both sides—calling out the contradictions between professed beliefs and lived actions. The show challenges audiences to reflect on whether their political identities truly align with the values they claim to uphold.

In this comedy, Trey Knowles highlights the hypocrisy surrounding Republican title loyalty. Through sharp humor and satire, he points out how deeply some individuals cling to party labels, often in ways that seem contradictory or extreme. Trey also calls attention to the irony of some of these individuals identifying themselves as Evangelicals, adding another layer to the commentary.

In this stand-up bit, Trey Knowles jokes about how liberal Democrats are always trying to get him to agree with sin—especially when it comes to voting. They approach him saying, “Republicans are trying to stop people from getting married.” Trey responds, “Oh really? That's not right.”

But what they don't say upfront is that they're talking about same-sex marriage. Trey breaks down how these liberals use tricky wording to pull people in, getting them to agree before they fully understand what they're supporting.

He jokes that it's all about mind control—convincing you that someone is taking something away from you, when in reality they want your help pushing something ungodly through the voting process.

In this short stand-up bit, Trey Knowles breaks down how political people worship titles the same way gangbangers do. Gangs ask, “Where you from?” Political people ask, “Are you Republican or Democrat?”

Trey points out that many of these political types have no moral values beyond the title they claim. They cling to labels so hard, yet can't even explain what those titles actually stand for.

“Americans Against Politicians” is a stand-up comedy set by Trey Knowles that takes a funny look at how Americans form political opinions. Through street interviews and punchy observations, Trey highlights how people often make bold assumptions and repeat claims without real evidence—relying instead on what they hear from Fox News or CNN. Many confidently say they “just know in their heart” that these networks are telling the truth about political leaders. The central joke driving the comedy asks a simple question: are Americans gullible, or just naïve enough to believe anything they're told?

In “American Idol,” Trey Knowles uses comedy to show how people in America often worship idols—especially celebrities—whose influence stands in direct opposition to God's character. Through humor, Trey exposes how celebrity culture can become a spiritual stumbling block when people elevate fame over truth. He highlights that people are without excuse, because we all possess a basic sense of right and wrong, especially when it comes to what we allow to pollute our spirit.

Trey Knowles' “Wolves in Sheep's Clothing” is a short comedy that calls out the so-called stumbling blockers—the people who trip others on purpose, then charge them for falling. They don't teach truth. Truth doesn't pay enough. Instead, they lead people down the wrong road, set up a toll booth halfway through, and collect money every time someone stumbles. To them, power and profit beat morals every time. These wolves dress like helpers, smile like teachers, and talk like they care—while quietly stacking wealth and passing laws so confusing that if you don't have money, you'll need their money just to survive. The more you fail, the more you pay. It's a subscription plan for misery. They flood books, screens, and airwaves with darkness, then call it “freedom.” When people act out that darkness, the wolves don't correct it—they applaud it. “Be yourself,” they say, because your mistakes keep the justice and correction systems in business. Your downfall is their revenue stream. Trey Knowles exposes how these people ride on other people's darkness. They vote for darkness, promote darkness, and profit from darkness—but never live in it themselves. The wolf knows the truth. He just doesn't want you knowing it. Because if you stay lost, confused, and cursed, the wolves stay rich—and that's the whole joke.