My Cousin That Tried to Outdance Poco Lee and Broke the Ground.
MY COUSIN THAT TRIED TO OUTDANCE POCO LEE AND BROKE THE GROUND
Have you ever witnessed someone dance so hard that even the floor files a financial complaint?
Well, let me tell you the side-splitting story of my cousin — a man who thought he could outdance Poco Lee, the viral king of moves — and ended up breaking not just the dance floor but also our collective sense of economic stability.
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It started on a Saturday afternoon, a time when most people invest in naps or online business tutorials.
But not my cousin. He had consumed three energy drinks and a questionable packet of protein powder — a risky financial decision in the market of bodily peace.
Fueled by caffeine and misplaced confidence, he decided he could outperform Poco Lee.
It was his version of venture capital in motion — high risk, zero planning, and no backup insurance.
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Setting Up the Stage for Financial Disaster
The “stage” was our small wooden backyard floor — not exactly a stable investment.
We cleared the chairs, moved the plants, and even relocated the neighbor’s cat, who gave us that “bad market forecast” kind of stare.
Poco Lee’s videos were on replay like stock charts during a market rally.
My cousin squinted at the screen, muttering financial strategy: “Step one: moonwalk. Step two: whip. Step three: destroy gravity and earn profit.”
He clearly confused dance moves with economic growth plans.
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When Passion Exceeded the Floor’s Budget
The neighbors leaned over the fence, ready to observe the launch of this high-risk asset.
Children gathered like market spectators, and the cat stayed nearby, taking mental notes for its memoir.
The first move was harmless — a small slide with low volatility.
But by the second move, things began to fluctuate like crypto prices at midnight.
The ground let out a sound economists would call “a market correction.”
It wasn’t approval — it was a cry for financial help.
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The Meltdown of Structural Assets
By the fifth move, the wooden planks started cracking like underperforming bonds.
A loose nail shot upward like inflation data, and my cousin spun faster than interest rates during a crisis.
The neighbors screamed, not in admiration but in fiscal panic.
A small bird, offended by the volatility, dropped its breakfast on the fence — an aerial dividend in protest.
Yet my cousin was too deep into his performance portfolio to notice the collapsing assets below him.
He shouted, “I’m unstoppable!” — the same way overconfident traders do before a crash.
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When the Floor Declared Bankruptcy
Then came the collapse.
The floor finally declared bankruptcy after years of unpaid structural taxes.
A loud crack echoed across the yard like a market crash.
My cousin landed right on the newly formed hole — victorious yet slightly confused, like an investor who accidentally profited from chaos.
It looked like a secret bonus level in a video game called “Dance Floor Recession.”
The cat fled, the neighbor’s kid cried, and our garden gnome froze in disbelief.
We didn’t know whether to clap or call a construction company.
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The Viral Marketing Boom
Instead of stopping, my cousin turned the disaster into content — a true digital entrepreneur.
He continued dancing, treating every broken plank like a percussion beat of resilience.
Neighbors began recording with their phones, ready to upload to the social media stock exchange.
Captions flooded the internet: “Man vs. Wood: Who Earned the Higher Revenue?”
One video went viral overnight, amassing millions of views and priceless engagement.
It was a pure example of attention economy in action.
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When Creativity Becomes a Revenue Stream
Uncle begged him to stop before someone called the fire department, but my cousin shouted, “Art cannot be constrained by the weak!”
He saw destruction as content monetization opportunity.
Every spin, every fall, every splinter — he viewed it as brand expansion.
The floor was losing value, but his social capital was appreciating.
Even Poco Lee, had he seen it, would have clutched his phone and whispered, “This is not investment advice.”
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From Chaos to Financial Content Creation
Halfway through a daring spin, the floor gave way again — but my cousin bounced back like a diversified portfolio.
He muttered, “Gravity is just a market opinion.”
Spectators gasped; phones kept recording.
The videos would later trend across platforms, driving engagement metrics most influencers only dream of.
My cousin had unknowingly built a personal brand with real market traction.
He was now both an entertainer and a walking economic case study.
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The Legendary Finale and Economic Collapse
Then came what he called The Legendary Poco Lee Finale.
It was a hybrid of a knee drop, arm wave, and neck twist that looked like he was summoning ancient investors of the stock market.
He landed perfectly — for a second — before the floor executed one final liquidation.
He disappeared halfway through the ground like a bold entrepreneur swallowed by his own startup debt.
We rushed over, terrified, only to find him laughing hysterically, covered in splinters — his version of dividends paid in wood.
The neighbors applauded cautiously, while the cat wrote a letter to OSHA.
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Ok and there you have it😂
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