He doesn't smile. He bares teeth. This is the story of how that became everyone's problem.
Nobody knows which exchange floor he was born under. Some say he crawled out of a rejected limit order. Others say he was spawned when a market maker sneezed three times in a row. All we know is this: one morning the tape went red, the bells kept ringing, and one ape stood up on the trading desk, bared every single tooth, and roared.
They tried to call a halt. The baboon had already found the button.
Retreat? Never. He dragged a laptop deep into the jungle and started a laboratory of pure gains. Green candles lit the cave all night. Coffee cups piled up like skulls. Legend says he drew the first $BABOON chart on a banana leaf with his own claw — and that every dip since has been personally reviewed and rejected.
Fueled by gains. Fueled by spite. Fueled by bananas.
Now he sits. Kings send delegations. Founders bring offerings of unicorn shirts and four-finger salutes. The moon sends complaints that he keeps visiting without an appointment. His teeth are still bared — not in anger, but because that is simply his face. And that is the whole point: he never needed to smile for anyone.
Bare teeth. Bag hold. Moon soon. 🦷
Markets crash. Founders pivot. Rockets explode. The baboon only knows one move — and it is baring teeth at all of them at once.