Oh, the tragedy! The farce! The sheer spectacle! Pudgy Penguins, that noble circle of chilly hustlers clad in tuxedos not of silk but of pixelated promise, began the year practically begging for alms near $0.009. š„² Not a soul thought theyād waddle so boldly-but alas, a whisper! A rumor! A vision of penguins playing football in the hallowed grounds of Etihad Stadium, and suddenly, wallets opened like overfilled samovars at a Ukrainian wedding.
Yes, dear reader, early speculators-bless their gullible hearts-rallied the charge, hoisting the price to a dizzying $0.013! Volume swelled like a fishermanās belly after a feast of borscht. But let us not be fooled-this was not investment; this was speculation of the purest, most chaotic kind. Traders buying not because they believed in penguins as a financial instrument, but because they believed others believed. A classic case of āgreater foolā theory in motion! ššø
But as quickly as they rose, like a drunken Cossack leaping onto a table only to fall into a vat of kvass, momentum vanished. Early birds, sharp as pickled herring, took their profits and fled into the night, leaving the latecomers clutching empty digital baskets. āWait,ā they cried, āI thought the Manchester City thing meant football utility!ā Alas, no. It meant⦠NFT scarves. š¶

And then-oh, horror!-the market sneezed. Risk-off sentiment swept through the crypto bazaar like a cold wind from Siberia. Leveraged traders, those foolish knights of margin debt, were liquidated faster than dumplings at a peasant banquet. Sell volume exploded like a faulty boiler in a St. Petersburg apartment block, and the poor penguin tottered below $0.011, triggering stop-losses with the precision of a KGB interrogation.
Down it went. Faster. Buy volume? Thinner than broth at a monastery. Sell pressure? Thicker than a Russian novel. The once-proud PENGU now flaps its wings in desperation, while technicians point at their charts and mutter, āBearish volume bars⦠MACD in the depths⦠RSI weeping into its sleeveā¦ā šš
Yet, hope remains! Or perhaps itās just delusion. Recovery hinges on stabilization near $0.010-a level as fragile as an eggshell during a Cossack dance. To reclaim $0.011 would be nothing short of a miracle, worthy of canonization by the Holy Crypto Church. It would mean belief has returned! Or at least, that the greater fools have refilled their ranks. š
PENGUās partnership hype fades as traders rotate capital
Ah, the Manchester City āpartnershipā-the crown jewel! The golden carrot! Announced on January 15th with all the pomp of a czarās coronation, it promised penguin NFTs, virtual jerseys, and perhaps-dare we dream-a penguin mascot leading the team onto the pitch! Investors salivated, pricing in glory, exposure, and a future where every child in Manchester dreams not of Haaland, but of becoming a PENGU hodler. š§ā½

But then⦠the truth emerged. Like an unwelcome guest at a feast, it announced: āThis is not immediate utility. This is long-term⦠vision.ā Long-term? Long-term?! The market scorned it! Traders, who think in five-minute candles, heard ālong-termā and screamed, āThis is an outrage! I didnāt buy penguins for culture-I bought them to get rich and buy a yacht named Na Zdravie!ā
And so they sold. The news was not just sold-it was deep-fried, pickled, and served with a side of leverage unwinds. A 15% drop followed. Panic? No. Discipline? Hardly. It was merely the cold, mechanical rotation of capital-from penguins to whatever shiny new memecoin promises real utility, like dog coins that bark on blockchain.
Why $0.010-$0.012 will decide PENGUās next trend
Now, we reach the crossroads-like a babushka at a train station deciding whether to sell her last pickle or go home. The $0.010-$0.012 range stands as the Great Wall of Penguin Destiny. Fail it, and the price dives toward $0.0095-a level as depressing as a Monday morning in Minsk.

But-ah, but!-if the penguins reclaim $0.0115 and soar past $0.012, then dub it a miracle! The bears will weep! The charts will rejoice! And maybe-just maybe-someone will finally buy that NFT scarf. All it requires is a return of memecoin fever, thick volumes, and faith thicker than borscht.
Until then, PENGU remains not in trend, but in limbo-a digital ghost waddling between hope and hilarity. Reactive. Jittery. Dependent on the whims of traders with more dreams than sense.
Final Thoughts
- PENGU didnāt crash from panic-it crashed from realization. āWait,ā said the traders, āthis NFT thing doesnāt pay dividends?ā Distribution, leverage pops, and cold truths drove the fall. And the broader memecoin market? As weak as a babushkaās Wi-Fi. š¶
- The $0.010-$0.012 range is the battlefield. Hold it, and hope flaps its wings. Lose it, and the penguins march toward extinction-until the next hype blizzard hits. āļøšļø
And so the circus continues, dear reader. The penguins fall, the traders flee, and somewhere in Manchester, a man in a penguin suit wonders why no oneās buying his digital scarf. š©š§£
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2026-01-20 03:09