To be fair, the story of Debra Hunter Pitts can't really be called a conspiracy theory. The proper designation would be "unadulterated bullshit".
She waited many years to tell her tale, and when the time was right, she selected only the most unimpeachable information outlets: Rabid anti-Zionist broadcaster Greg Szymanski, and conspiracy researcher Wes Penre (founder of the website Zionist Watch). Good thinking, Ms. Pitts: Just the guys to go to with a story about evil Nazis.
The following is derived from Wes Penre's interview of Ms. Pitts, available here. I also listened to her interview on The Edge Radio, but the sound quality is very poor.
It all took place in Butler County, Missouri (population 13, if you count the brothers who were fused together in an industrial accident as two separate people*). In the '50s and '60s, Debra grew up in a family that worshiped Satan because, let's face it, snake-handling gets old after a while. She was raised in the household of her stepfather and stepmother. Think on that for a minute.
According to Debra, Butler County was run by a cabal of nasty people she variously describes as Nazis, CIA agents, Illuminati members, and Satanists. They had connections to the highest levels of the U.S. government and beyond, which is probably how they managed to get running water as early as 1956*. This cabal was plotting to take over the United States and install a Fourth Reich.
Sometime in the late '50s, Debra finally noticed that the gawdawful stench rising from the woods behind her stepdaddy's property wasn't just coming from the outhouse; there were about 300 bodies buried in a mass grave there, belonging mostly to out-of-towners. Hence Butler's unofficial nickname: "The Show-Me Where Else I Can Go County".
Doing what any normal young girl would do, Debra decided to remain in Butler County for the rest of her life and raise a family.
Fortunately, she didn't have to dip into the local gene pool, because both Carlos Santana and Eric Clapton breezed through town on their way to somewhere else and fathered her love children**. Both men wanted to announce this from the rooftops, but Debra gently informed them that fathering illegitimate kids with a woman controlled by a Southern Nazi-Satanist cult might create some PR difficulties for them.
Debra was no fool. While her family and neighbors ritually sacrificed tourists, teenaged Debra started a paramilitary resistance unit called Militia One, so named because it had one member. But not for long - Santana, Clapton, and a gang of other Hollywood celebs soon joined the fight against the powers of darkness in rural Missouri. And they kicked some ass.
By the mid-'80s, the cabal still hadn't taken over the country due to technical difficulties like having substandard footwear and not actually being able to read the printed word. Debra sensed that the Illuminati was getting closer to their goal, however. This was confirmed for her when the mass grave was excavated by agents from the FBI and the Treasury Department (hey, don't be fooled - they have a crack forensics team!). Rather than arresting anyone, the feds merely disposed of the bodies elsewhere and let things continue as usual in Butler County. Your tax dollars at work.
Debra was on her own. Except for her secret weapon: Militia One. It was time to summon her coke-fueled L.A. loverboys so they could assemble into a massive, Satanist-stomping machine. Kinda like Voltron, only cooler.
How did Debra meet these celebrity folks? Well, you see, she and her secret twin sister were child geniuses. The baddies who ran Butler County were so blown away by Debra's Christian preaching that they contacted the top producers in Hollywood to tell them that a "goldmine" was ready to be groomed for superstardom. Her singing, dancing, and psychic powers would be a mighty tool in the hands of the Satanic Nazis. Imagine Shirley Temple crossed with Sylvia Browne, if you can stomach that.
The bigwigs were so intrigued by film footage of this dancing preacher-girl that they hired Satanists to dress up as limo drivers and chauffeur them through Butler County so they could get a peek at Debra. In this way she met John Lee Hooker, Jack Elam, and Jay Silverheels. When she was all of 13, Santana and Clapton parked their white limo in front of her school and struck up a conversation with her. It became clear to Debra that the Hollywood folks were on the right side of the battle between Evil and Not Evil; they clearly wanted to use her prodigious talents to defeat the evil plans of Butler County's Satanic Illuminati Nazi brigade.
So Debra decided to accept funding from Clapton, Santana, et. al., rather than become rich and famous herself. That might have diluted her godliness, you see.
Somehow the trio became sidetracked by songwriting and movie plans. Debra wrote "Layla" at Eric's request, cleverly hiding the story of a Satanic Nazi murder in what appears to be a love song. She completed it during one of her high school classes and passed it out the window to him. She also came up with the name Derek and the Dominos, though the lovebirds had a minor spat over how to spell "dominoes". She thinks it's very uncool that Pattie Boyd is so obsessed with Eric that she spreads false information about "Layla", and she's slightly peeved with Eric for failing to give her songwriting credits as promised.
The three pals also scripted and acted out comedies and Westerns that they would produce together after the Illuminati was defeated. In 1984 they even filmed a star-studded, improv romantic comedy in Texas to help them expose the Nazis. They filmed all the on-set fisticuffs that broke out between their Nazi minders and the film crew, then included the footage in the final cut for all the world to see. Stars included Yoko Ono, Tom Petty, Andy Warhol, Mickey Gilley, and Willie Nelson.
This film was shelved, but Debra assures us it will be released soon.
In 1971 Clapton saw one of the mass graves for himself and decided it was time to get Interpol involved. Unfortunately, you can't just phone Interpol and say, "Hi, I'm an internationally renowned musician, and I've just seen a gravesite full of hundreds of bodies of unknown murder victims." That's not the way it works. First you have to find someone else to use as a contact - in this case, a 16-year-old girl that you're apparently doing - and make a DeBeers diamond commercial with her so that Interpol will take you seriously. Oh, and you have to buy the diamonds first. You can't just get them on loan for the commercial.
This brilliant scheme worked. Seeing the video of Eric Clapton hanging out in a limo with an underaged girl dripping in diamonds convinced Interpol agents that something very messed-up was going on in Butler County, Missouri. They immediately made Debra an informant. With the help of Militia One and its advisor, "General X", Interpol successfully infiltrated and dismantled the Nazi/Satanic infrastructure of the U.S. government and restored it to its original, pristine state.
So that's how Clapton, Santana, and their baby mama saved civilization. Of course, the musicians can't talk about this openly because everyone would assume they were just having acid flashbacks or something, so it's up to Debra to spread the word and change the history books. She soldiers on even though the FBI has had her under continuous surveillance since 1984. She is very happy for Eric now that he is clean and married. They had two pairs of twins together (in addition to Santana's kids, another pair of twins and a son named William Woodstock). She also had another pair of twins with her primary Interpol contact. All of these children were born from surrogates, and the FBI doesn't allow her to see them very often.
Debra's post-showdown story is hard to follow, but I gather that she murdered her husband, Bill Pitts, in 1990. She had to do it - his entire family was plotting to kill her for the insurance money and royalties. Thankfully, the FBI arranged for her to be acquitted.
If this isn't a country song, it should be.
* Not really.