(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
More WallStreetBets Copypastas
Bloomberg terminal vs toilet trading
Imagine spending 20K on a bloomberg terminal and thousands on hardware just to get smoke checked by some retards on the toilet trading on their phone that are not only on the spectrum but might be the actual spectrum.
Imagine spending 20K on a bloomberg terminal and thousands on hardware just to get smoke checked by some retards on the toilet trading on their phone that are not only on the spectrum but might be the actual spectrum.
Bear King Burry vs TSLA
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly.
"The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee.
TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair.
Bear King Burry turns to the crowd
"Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?"
A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries.
On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time.
"Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..."
Bear King Burry turns to WSB
"Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch."
"Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want."
A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring.
"And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously.
BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends.
"Who am I?" the robed figure inquires.
The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall.
The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence.
"Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly.
The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature.
The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes.
"I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."
a tesla drives down the street in 2021
the year is 2021
A tesla drives down the street
unknowing of the danger behind it
a beast of American metal and lightning
The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox
He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can
It cannot save him, he can hear the music already
"THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY"
He realizes he is already dead
In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck
In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV
It stops for no one
the year is 2021
A tesla drives down the street
unknowing of the danger behind it
a beast of American metal and lightning
The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox
He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can
It cannot save him, he can hear the music already
"THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY"
He realizes he is already dead
In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck
In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV
It stops for no one
Jeff Bezos vs Elon Musk
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
Bears after a green day
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
It’s 4:01pm. Bears solemnly log out of their devastated brokerage account, get up from their makeshift desk made up of a stack of empty Michelina’s frozen lasagna dinners, head up the stairs of their father’s basement, grab the keys to their tan ‘97 Chevy Cavalier and a cloth mask embroidered with the word “VOTE,” and drive down the street to the local gay bar for a holiday themed burlesque show.
