FTXSBFGDO
A short story. Entirely fictional.
Since he was young, Sam Bankman-Fried has seen an octopus at times of immense strife. Green, and dancing, as if taunting him in his torment. The first time had been during a freak occurrence; some early-20s caretaker at his daycare had accidentally started a fire in the break room. The fire department had been across town, so by the time they arrived, too late to do much of anything, Sam had witnessed everything around him go up in flames, crumbling to darkened ash. As his best friend had burned in front of his eyes, just out of his line of sight, Sam saw the octopus, bobbing back and forth to invisible music, such a vibrant green in comparison to the red and yellow flames in the room. Sam knows others cannot see it, the octopus—his psychiatrist has said as much when prescribing him antipsychotics throughout his childhood and adolescence.
When starting his company, Sam had made a promise to himself: to ensure FTX's success, he needed to be clearheaded, so he would need to go off his meds. He would not see the green dancing octopus, because this time would not end in a failure. It was 2019; crypto was the future, after all, and he would be at the forefront.
It was 2022, 3 days before Veteran's Day. Sam paced the offices of FTX, pulling stressed at his hair. He'd woken up to emails upon emails, notifications from the FTX website about something being—wrong. Customers were withdrawing from FTX by the millions, by the billions. It'd been ongoing for the last three days. It didn't make sense? Things were good. They were. They'd just had that Super Bowl ad with Larry David, hadn't they? "Don't Miss Out" they'd told people, and they'd expectedly come to FTX in droves. But now?
Sam grit his teeth. It had to be CoinDesk. Those fuckers. Lies, all of it. In one fell swoop, they'd managed to ruin everything. It didn't matter if customers had believed in FTT's value before; now, people were practically fleeing in droves, all on the word of a single article.
Sam shook his head, sitting down at his desk. He'd had plans to travel on the 11th, but now those were fully dashed since he had to deal with this mess. He pulled up his email, watching messages continuously roll in. Withdrawals after withdrawals. A text from his second-in-command appeared at the top right of his desktop screen and Sam clicked it.
Hey. New offer in from CPZ @ BINANCE for dot com. Nonbinding. -GW
Sam exhaled sharply, placing his fingers on his keyboard. Accept it, he typed back, practically trembling with rage. And, something else, something familiar...
Out of the corner of his eye, Sam thought he saw a flash of something. When he looked up, he saw his office empty expect for sunlight streaming in through the windows, airy and yellow. He returned to his message chain, sending a follow-up.
Will send update 2 staff. -SBF
Next, Sam pulled up the wider company Slack channel, composing himself for a beat before starting his message.
Morning, all. In the last 72 hours, we've had roughly $6b of net withdrawals from FTX...
Another flash of something in the corner of his eye. This time, when Sam looked up, he saw it clearly. Bobbing back and forth to invisible music. A drop of sweat appeared at his forehead as he swallowed hard. He would ignore it. Yes, that would do it. He returned to his keyboard.
Withdrawals at FTX.com are effectively paused while we resolve this. But do NOT worry!
Its green skin reflected the sunlight, bathing Sam's office in a sickly emerald green. He kept his eyes on his desktop screen, ignoring the ice cold fingers of fears dragging down his spine. Was it getting closer? Was it coming closer?
This issue will be resolved in the near future. In fact, a deal to purchase FTX.com has come through, he typed. As the octopus moved, the green light bathing the room shook back and forth. Sam thought he might be sick from the movement. A pit opened up in his stomach as he finished his message.
This is NOT the end of FTX. Love you all. -SBF
"Do you?" whispered a voice directly in Sam's ear. Tentacles, sliming and weighted, curled around his arms, pulling them from the keyboard, pulling him away from his desk entirely. "Do you really love them?" Trapped in its embrace, Sam began to sway and bob with its movement. He could no longer see it, this green dancing octopus. But from within its clutches, dancing against his will, the green-tinted sunlight looked identical to the flames that consumed his friend.