The Great Recession Rodeo

 

"The Great Recession Rodeo"

It all started when the Dow Jones dropped lower than Uncle Earl’s pants at a BBQ—suddenly America found itself knee-deep in a recession thicker than grandma’s leftover gravy. Gas was so expensive, folks started riding bicycles again, and not because they were “eco-friendly,” but because their trucks were repossessed faster than you could say, “economic downturn.”

With banks tighter than a tick on a hound dog, even the farms had to make budget cuts. That’s when the cows and chickens started living together.

At first, it was chaos. Cows were used to peace and cud-chewing, while chickens ran around like… well, you know. But over time, they figured things out. The cows provided warmth, and the chickens offered early-morning wake-up calls. It was an uneasy truce, kind of like Congress but with more productivity.

Meanwhile, the malls—once thriving centers of teenage loitering and overpriced pretzels—were emptier than a politician’s promises. Escalators kept moving with no one on them, mannequins stared wistfully out the windows, and a lone security guard named Carl had developed a suspiciously close relationship with the fountain in the food court.

Carl claimed it talked to him.

The government tried to stimulate the economy by sending every citizen a $3 gift card to Blockbuster Video, which confused everyone since there hadn’t been a Blockbuster in town since 2008. Some folks used them as coasters. Others taped them to their foreheads as a sign of protest. A new political movement called “Rent-free for Real” was born, led by a man who lived in an abandoned Sears and only communicated via interpretive dance.

Jobs were scarce. People started getting creative—one guy sold air labeled as “Artisanal Mountain Breeze” on Etsy. Another opened a yoga studio for stressed-out goats. Surprisingly, the goat yoga took off. It was the only business booming besides canned soup and doomsday podcasting.

By year two of the recession, things started getting weird. Really weird. A cow ran for mayor in Nebraska—and won. Her running mate was a chicken named Cluck Norris. Together, they ran on a platform of “More Corn for All and Free Range Fridays.”

You’d think that was the bottom, but then Walmart started charging for window shopping.

Eventually, America crawled out of the recession. Slowly but surely, jobs returned, the cows and chickens amicably separated, and malls turned into senior centers with excellent walking tracks. Carl left the fountain to pursue a career in motivational speaking—his TED Talk was titled, "Conversations with Chlorine."

And so, the country moved on, a little wiser, a little weirder, and definitely a lot more cautious about trusting the stock market—or at least talking fountains.