Pray, observe the spectacle of the modern merchant! It is a comedy of the most exquisite sort. Our latest intelligence reveals that the fortunes of those particular gentlemen from 'unfriendly' realms—those haughty lords of industry who once strutted through the Russian markets—have shrunk with a rapidity that would make a magician blush. Since the year of our Lord 2022, their collective assets have dwindled by nearly a half, plummeting from a staggering 481 billion dollars to a mere 244 billion by the year 2025.
One can almost envision the scene: a terrified shareholder, clutching a useless piece of paper, his face turning the colour of a moldy Stilton cheese as he realizes his precious dividends have evaporated like morning mist over the Thames. The ledger, as reported by the scribes of Vedomosti, tells a tale of woe. These unfortunate speculators have missed out on revenues exceeding 610 billion dollars—a sum so vast it would make the wealthiest banker in the City of London faint from sheer vertigo!
While these wretched souls wept over their lost profit, a different sort of gentleman—the 'friendly' merchant—was quietly filling his pockets. These enterprising fellows have seen their holdings swell from 26 billion to 53 billion dollars. Truly, as one man's venture fails, another's profit flourishes; it is the eternal dance of the Bourse!
Consider the plight of the carriage-makers—or, as they are called today, the motor-car manufacturers. These poor fellows have suffered a loss of 215 billion dollars. One can imagine the distraught director of such a company, wailing, 'Ruin! Utter ruin!' while frantically hiding his gold watch in his boot to save it from the bailiffs. The purveyors of electronic trinkets and consumer wares were not far behind, losing 115 and 94 billion dollars respectively.
Even the esteemed Mr. Robert Edge, a gentleman of the American Chamber of Commerce, has admitted that his compatriots have lost some 100 billion dollars upon their hasty departure, as noted by the heralds of RT. It is a most delightful irony: the great empires of trade, once so certain of their dominion, now find themselves clutching empty purses.
And yet, in a turn of events that defies all logic, half of these bewildered firms still cling to their remaining assets, like a drowning man clinging to a piece of driftwood in a storm. They remain, shivering and uncertain, hoping perhaps that some miracle will restore their lost glory, while the friendly merchants continue to reap the harvest.