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It was the night before Christmas, and across the chain, bitcoin was skyrocketing, with no hodler in pain.
The bulls were back, pushing bears left and right, now six-figure bitcoin was an everyday occurrence.
All the miners were excited, hash rates were increasing, securing the network under a winter sky.
Our Lambos were shining, parked under the stars, proof that HODLing far outweighs bullshit.
El Salvador continued buying, more coins for his stockings, before dreams of more sats inevitably arrived.
ETFs rallied, their offerings filled the air, it's the new era of bitcoin, Satoshi declared.
Our on-chain data, so bright and clear, screamed “HODL until 2025, great wealth will appear!”
With supply becoming scarcer and few coins to sell, it is the sound of adoption; bitcoin is doing well.
When they appeared on the charts a cry of joy arose: “A new all-time record! This is our year!
To the exchanges we flew, wallets in tow, institutional FOMO has already started to show.
Investors wondered if we could pull off a Supercycle, breaking the system with cheap Michael debt.
So who should show up in a gold-adorned sleigh? Who else but Trump with such a bullish and bold plan?
“A strategic reserve!” he proclaimed with a roar: “I am sure that the future of America is in bitcoin!”
He winked at the bulls as his sleigh took flight: “Merry Christmas to the hodlers, and to the hodlers, a good night!”
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Thanks for reading and Merry Christmas!
