They have their own system, but surprisingly it’s not that different after all.
Hi, I’m your teacher, and my name is Ginny.
I’m good at making the wisdom horses whinny.
Today’s topic is the hamster economy,
After which you have gastronomy.
As you know, hamsters have cheeks.
They store stuff in them for weeks.
Some hamsters’ cheeks are bigger than the others’.
For this they can thank their fathers and mothers.
Some hamsters whose cheeks happen to be massive
Happen to like work that makes them passive.
So they chose the career of a banker.
Even for hamsters it’s safe, like an anchor.
Instead of vaults the banks have couches.
For the special ones with the huge cheek pouches.
Every deposit, every dollar, every cent.
Goes in their cheeks with their consent.
When you withdraw, they shake their head,
And you get your money to buy your bread.
Some of it is lost, but just a tiny bit.
In between teeth or in the tongue pit.
The system has worked for a while quite well.
The hamsters were able to buy and sell
Whatever they wanted, hamster balls and such,
Or a furry bungee, jump without a crutch.
There was one profession, the feared hamster dentist.
That made the bankers shake after they’d apprenticed.
The tooth doc was perfect to steal all the cash.
All he had to do was grab it and dash.
So the bankers couldn’t care if their teeth were rotting.
They had to bear it to stop the docs’ plotting.
So the rot spread and their cheeks became cheese.
The coins liked it, they could feel the breeze.
With the holes in the cheeks, some money got lost;
Bigger and bigger the clientele’s cost.
Because of this horrible economic weight:
The great Cheek Disaster of 2008.
All the money in the banks just vanished.
It’s like the money gnome had been banished.
Hamsters couldn’t buy the balls they use to roll
To their hamster jobs, ballpool with a vole.
It took years for them to bounce back.
And all this because their teeth got black.
Oh, that’s the bell, let us go eat.
After that: The Hamster Wall Street.