The Daily Churn

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Winklevoss Twins’ Gemini IPO Oversubscribed, Investors Queue for Imaginary Chairs

Two identical financiers in blazers row a gilded shell through a sea of prospectuses toward a neon IPO bell.
Two identical financiers in blazers row a gilded shell through a sea of prospectuses toward a neon IPO bell.

As a person who reads balance sheets for sport, I am delighted to report the Gemini IPO is over 20 times oversubscribed, which is finance for bring your own chair to a standing-room-only mirage. The market did a spit take, then bought the spit.

Investors have been camping outside a spreadsheet since dawn, roasting risk factors over a tealight and trading prospectuses for marshmallow pegs. The queue stretches from Wall Street to a mood board labeled moon.

The Winklevoss twins arrived by rowing shell, which of course was forged from recycled hype cycles and lacquered with abs. Gemini, named after the constellation and the concept of seeing double profits, claims the stars align whenever the twins flex in unison.

A banker explained oversubscription by drawing curves in the air with a cigar and accidentally creating a new derivative. We tried to model demand, he said, but the calculator returned a ringtone and asked for stock options.

Merch sold out fast, including the commemorative cold storage wallet keychain, perfectly sized to store a lifetime of feelings about valuation. One buyer told me the keychain has better fundamentals than his cousin’s SPAC.

Price talk ricocheted between rational and renaissance fair. Some bidders paid with conviction, others with commemorative drink tickets from the last bull market, and one hedge fund submitted a bid written entirely in Latin and emojis.

A line of ecstatic investors seated on invisible chairs outside a glassy exchange, waving blank bid forms like flags.
A line of ecstatic investors seated on invisible chairs outside a glassy exchange, waving blank bid forms like flags.

Retail showed up dressed as confidence made visible, including one gentleman in an inflatable bull market costume who assured me inflation is good when it looks like a parade balloon. Security patted down the costume and found three more costumes inside, nesting-doll style.

The S-1 reads like a choose-your-own-adventure where every page says forward-looking statements may look forward so hard they time travel. Risk factors include volatility, gravity, and your cousin Chad explaining tokenomics at Thanksgiving.

Valuation hinges on a price-to-hope ratio last seen when alchemists pitched lead-plus narrative equals gold. EBITDA has been reimagined as Earnings Before It Does Anything, with an Adjusted column for the vibes we met along the way.

Allocation mathematics reached pure poetry. If you ordered one share, you receive one twentieth of a sigh, payable in gratitude and partial disappointment. Bookrunners are sprinting, which feels on brand.

The twins said they will row harder to meet demand, a plan that makes sense if your oars are balance sheets and the river is liquidity hallucination. The boat is unsinkable, they added, revealing it is made entirely of past press releases.

In the end, the market bought scarcity, then oversubscribed the scarcity of scarcity, and now we trade the echo. I follow incentives to their ledger, and today the ledger simply lists two identical chairs, both imaginary, both reserved, and somehow both already flipped for a profit.


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