You Won’t Believe How Much Bitcoin This Company Just Misplaced 😲

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In the dim light of the boardroom, figures in dark suits sat frowning over reports that, as thick as birch logs in the Kamyshin forests, concealed more than they revealed. Strategy, that proud vessel with Bitcoin for ballast, now found itself taking on water, its crew whispering nervously about hidden shoals.

Their audacity had once drawn nods of approval—even the newspaper boys in Moscow had opinions on Strategy’s bold gamble. Michael Saylor, with his aristocratic bearing and taste for risk, stood at the prow, proclaiming, “Let us be a Bitcoin Treasury Company!” and the market, fat and sleepy as a provincial postmaster, snored its approval.

But as dawn breaks sooner or later over even the most stubborn of Petersburg parties, so too did trouble rise. Out of the fog, a class-action lawsuit floated into the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Virginia—no Tolstoyan duel, but a modern bureaucratic ordeal, with paperwork replacing pistols.

The complaint, drafted with all the cheer of a winter in Saratov, listed the usual cast: those who purchased stock between April 30, 2024, and April 4, 2025, and felt beguiled by promises of endless crypto largesse. They claimed Strategy, ever the cunning merchant, tucked the real risks away like an aunt hiding jam from greedy nephews.

After the grand rebranding, Bitcoin became their lodestar. With every dip and surge, they measured BTC Yield and BTC Gain, those mysterious metrics that meant little, perhaps, to anyone except the accountant on his third glass of vodka.

Then, drama! In strolls the dreaded ASU 2023-08—a new accounting rule like an overzealous tax inspector demanding to know why there’s a goat in the pantry. From now on, Strategy must count every twitch of Bitcoin’s value: not just the ugliness of actual losses, but the theoretical misfortunes, too. The era of schastlivyy (happy) accounting was over.

New Accounting Rules—As Welcome as a Rainstorm at a Picnic

Until this meddlesome rule, Strategy pulled a classic: if Bitcoin dropped, bad luck—write it down; if it climbed, silence—don’t gloat until you sell. But now, even unrealized losses (the shadow of misfortune) must be paraded through the company’s ledgers, as awkward as an unwanted cousin at a family dinner.

The suit says Strategy kept up their cheery facade, parading about BTC Yield and BTC Gain while the ground beneath their boots grew soft and marshy. The losses, like an unwelcome telegram, arrived on April 7, 2025: $5.91 billion gone—poof!—not even a Dostoevskian gambler could lose so much so quickly.

By the time Strategy filed its Q1 earnings, the stock had plunged like a student after too much kvass, down 8%, and the company found itself, once more, explaining how a treasure could shrink so drastically, and so publicly.

Accusations fluttered—misleading statements, violations of securities laws, investors staring at their empty pockets like peasants after the harvest. There will be damages, say the lawyers; there must be someone at fault, say the shareholders, lighting candles for their vanished fortunes.

Still, Michael Saylor and Strategy persevere, clutching to Bitcoin like a landlord to the last samovar. No czar, no market tumult, and certainly not a brigade of attorneys, have managed yet to pry loose those 600,000 BTC—worth $65 billion, or a lifetime supply of borscht, depending on your mood.

And so the story continues, as all Russian tales do: fortunes rise, fortunes fall, and everyone waits to see who, if anyone, gets to keep the samovar. 🚢📉😅

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2025-07-03 16:57