@freymon.eth
caddyshack (1980)
As the dust settles on the green, /matcha fumes, gripping his putter like a Wall Street boomer clutching his TradFi portfolio. YES2Crypto, ever the degen, adjusts his scrappy caddie cap and winks at the crowd of memecoin maxis gathering by the 19th hole.
Judge Smails—er, /matcha—clears his throat, smug as ever. “Crypto’s a pump-and-dump circus! If you had any sense, you’d place market orders like a gentleman.”
Y2C laughs, twirling a golf tee between his fingers. “Market orders? Ohhh, you mean instant rug pulls! Sorry, Judge, I like my bids resting comfortably in the fairway… waiting to snipe the perfect entry.”
/Matcha crosses his arms, nostrils flaring. “You and your limit orders. This is an exclusive course. We don’t just let anyone play.”
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