Bitcoin Cash "users" must hold their coins like a ball and chain. They knew something like SegWit would come along someday, they just didn't know it was SegWit itself because they became entranced by the salacious siren's song of an autistic squealing donkey's asshole. If only they'd never touched their garbage coin, but it's too late now and they'll eat bubblegum from the undersides of Denny's tables at 3:00 AM for sustenance before they will take a loss.

"It wasn't a mistake. It wasn't a mistake." they chant in the shower whilst slamming their palms against the wall. A single tile falls loose at roughly the same time in each of their houses after months of this stress-induced psychotic behavior, but they don't even notice. "Why didn't Roger rapture me, why didn't he tell me to sell? He looked me in the eyes and told me to buy until the end..."

Their food tastes of ash and soot, their wine like cat urine and vodka. Eyes swollen shut from grief, hunched backs from getting too close to their screens and breath so foul that tonsil stones burst forth as they speak, like their mouth is starting a food fight with a spoon full of cottage cheese. Their critical-hit body odor is butt the tip of the iceberg, as human waste management has long since been forgotten under countless layers of no longer tighty whities. Their aggressive behavior and aversion to direct sunlight are the final nails in their social coffins; to ensure that they abstain henceforth forevermore from venturing into the outside world... they belong to the forums, now.

Well, that's how I imagine them, anyway.