I was just a humble turnip farmer with dreams bigger than my cabbage patch. Then one day, a nobleman in velvet boots told me,

“This bulb, dear peasant, will change your life.”

So I sold everything — the goats, the cart, the naming rights to my future children — and bought a striped tulip bulb named Emberdrip Ultra-Bloom. 🌷✨

At first, I was rich. Like, eating butter every day rich. People bowed when I walked into the tavern. Someone called me “Sir Yield-a-Lot.”

But then... rumors started.
Whispers in the wind like, “Maybe tulips aren’t actually worth more than houses?”
And I’m like: “Shut your mouth, heathen. These petals are financial instruments.”

Then one day...
No one showed up to the bulb auction.
One guy offered me a sheep. Not even a good sheep. A limp one.
I yelled “This is a MOON BLOSSOM, you fool!” but deep down... I knew.

Prices fell faster than a drunk goat on a frozen canal.
Everyone started panic-plucking.
The charts wilted. The vibes? Extremely unbloomed.

I tried to trade my bulb for bread.
The baker just laughed and threw a baguette at me.

Now I live in a compost bin behind the tulip exchange. The bulb is still with me.
I talk to it sometimes. It doesn’t bloom anymore... but it listens.

Would I do it again?

...Yes. But next time, I’m buying $TULIPORN.