A.I generated:
Once upon a time in the bustling kingdom of America, there lived a boy named Donny, known far and wide for his golden hair and a penchant for shouting about tariffs. Donny wasn’t your average lad; he was the ruler of the land, with a Twitter account mightier than any sword and a love for big, beautiful walls—both physical and economic. Donny’s favorite game was called “Tariff Tag,” and by April 2025, he was playing it with the world like a toddler with a new toy hammer.
One bright morning, Donny stood atop his White House balcony, megaphone in hand, and bellowed, “Tariffs! 145% on China!” The villagers—shopkeepers, farmers, and Silicon Valley coders—gasped. Their $8 Shein dresses, $14 Temu gadgets, and $30 Alibaba drones faced extinction. “This’ll bring jobs back!” Donny vowed, brandishing a chart so enormous it cast a shadow over Pennsylvania. The villagers, squinting, nodded, dazzled by the chart’s size, though the fine print read, “Economic impact: vibes-based.”
But Donny, never one for half-measures, spun around. “Wait! Tariffs on everyone! 10% on the world! 34% on China, 46% on Vietnam, 32% on Taiwan!” The world quaked. Canada’s maple syrup, Mexico’s avocados, Japan’s semiconductors—all hit. Wall Street imploded; the Dow cratered 1,500 points in hours. Nvidia, AI’s golden child, shed $400 billion as chip prices soared. “National security!” Donny cried, quietly slipping exemptions to his tech titan friends, looking like “Certain Buddies First.” Meanwhile, iPhone prices hit $1,300, and Best Buy shelves gathered dust.
The financial markets turned on Donny like a reality show contestant betrayed. Hedge funds dumped retail stocks; Walmart’s shares slid 12% as they warned of price hikes. Small manufacturers, like a Wisconsin toolmaker, collapsed when Chinese steel tariffs tripled costs. “Made in USA!” Donny tweeted, but the toolmaker’s bankruptcy filing told a different story. The S&P 500 wobbled, with Goldman Sachs muttering about a “tariff-triggered recession.” Inflation spiked to 5.2%, per the Fed, and consumer confidence tanked.
Donny’s next move? “Hold up!” he shouted, scratching his head. “Maybe we’ll pause some tariffs. Big deals coming!” The villagers blinked. Deals? With whom? China, unpaused and unimpressed, retaliated with 125% tariffs on American soybeans, bourbon, and electric cars. Iowa farmers watched crops rot, tweeting, “Donny’s ‘winning’ is our losing.” China rerouted exports through Malaysia, banned rare earth metals, and crippled U.S. battery plants. Tesla’s stock dove 18%, and Ford’s F-150s, pricier from tariffed steel, sat unsold.
Donny’s advisors, pale as ghosts, stammered, “Sir, tariffs are costing $300 million daily, not earning it.” Donny waved them off. “Fake news! We’re raking in billions!” The Customs Service, drowning in forms, begged to differ. Exemptions multiplied—pharma giants dodged drug tariffs, but small clinics paid 35% more for needles. “America First!” Donny winked, as his cronies’ stocks soared.
Across the seas, China played chess while Donny played tic-tac-toe. Xi, smirking over tea, inked trade pacts with Europe and ASEAN, calling France “China’s cousin.” Donny choked on his Diet Coke. The World Trade Organization wailed, “Global trade down 1.3%! GDP growth from 2.8% to 2.0%!” Donny scoffed, “WTO? Globalist clowns!”
The villagers suffered. A single dad in Michigan paid $60 for a “cheap” toaster, grumbling, “Tariffs tax us.” TikTok roasted Donny as “Chuan Jianguo,” China’s chaos-fueled savior. Retail sales fell 4%, and a viral meme showed a kid bartering his PS5 for bread, captioned, “Tariff Life.” Yet Donny mused about tariffs on clouds, immigrants, or Jupiter.
One day, Donny climbed his balcony, megaphone gleaming. “New tariffs!” he roared. The villagers, numb, shrugged. “He’s the boy who cried tariff,” they sighed, returning to their $90 sneakers and $15 burgers. Donny pouted, tweeting, “Ungrateful losers!” But the world had adapted—China thrived, allies pivoted, and the villagers dreamed of a day when Donny’s megaphone finally fizzled out.
The End.
, my guy.
