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“Please tell it again, grandpapa.” “Again?” “Yes, please”, Little Johnny answered as he snuggled in his blanket and scooted closer to his grandfather. Johnny’s grandfather gazed off to the fire that had died down to embers in the fireplace, then back down to his grandson’s eager eyes and asked, “You don’t want to hear about the time I stopped a robbery?” Johnny shook his head. “What about the time I saved the entire human race from the great alien invasion of 2025?” “No Grandpapa”, Johnny sighed and continued, “Those stories are so boring and dull compared to when you tell the story of what life was like before the instant cross border settlement.” “That’s such an odd choice for a five year old.” “I’ll be six next month.” “Oh…Well that explains it, then.” Johnny’s grandfather picked up the fire poker and turned the last log over to reveal a bed of embers and with it, a new source of warmth. “Okay, but it’s bed time after this, deal?” “Deal!” Johnny answered as his face became brighter than the embers themselves. “Once upon a time…” Johnny’s grandfather started as he hunched up in his chair so he could be closer to Johnny’s face and continued, “... money or value moved slower than information.” Johnny let out a whimper of disbelieve as his grandpa continued, “If a person needed to send money to a friend or business across the world, it could take two to ten business days!!!” Johnny’s grandpa threw his arms up over his head and shrieked out, “... And the fees!!! My god the FEES!!!” Johnny bundled up in his blanket as his grandpa’s story became more grandiose and asked, “Grandpapa, how did this problem get solved?” Johnny’s grandfather looked down at Johnny and answered, “It’s not how it got solved, but rather who or what, solved the problem.” Johnny clasped his hands together knowing that this is where is grandfather’s story really picked up steam. His grandfather lowered his voice to something that could barely be called a whisper so the boy had to lean in closer, and closer to his grandfather’s voice. “In the age when hundreds upon hundreds of cryptocurrencies flooded the coin exchanges, there was one that was faster, cheaper, and more scalable than all the rest. It’s name was…. XRP. Now, a lot of cryptocurrencies had neat technology behind it, but no real use case. XRP had what most of the other cryptos did not, and that was an upstart company called Ripple behind it, with a vision, and that vision was to solve the 27 trillion dollar problem of cross border remittance. Ripple was ran by a bunch of ragamuffins led by a man that went by the name Brad Garlinghouse. Together with the vision of Ripple, XRP slayed the devil beast known as the SWIFT bank and a new era was born. An era where transactions fees were small, and transfers were lighting fast. All thanks to XRP. Once XRP became the standard, Brad Garlinghouse road off into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again… Some say…”, Johnny's grandfather looked off into the fire as he continued, “... some say on fall evenings much like this one, you can smell the musk from his beard. People say it smells of nutmeg and cinnamon”. Johnny’s grandfather looked back on Johnny to see Johnny’s face had turned rather sour, as if he had something to say or ask, but was hesitant to ask it. Johnny’s Grandfather, curious to hear what Johnny was thinking asked, “What is it, Johnny?” “You said Mr. Garlinghouse has a beard?” “The most magnificent one, in all of the lands!” Johnny’s Grandfather roared. “Is it his face that’s photoshopped over all of pictures of Grandmama’s faces in your wedding album?” “You’ve seen that?” Johnny’s grandfather asked in shock and disbelief. Johnny looked away in what was shame and embarrassment for his grandfather and whispered, “Everybody seen it… including Grandmama.” “Oh…” Johnny’s grandfather answered as if the gravity of the situation had finally sunk in. “Well,” he started then continued, “Let’s get you ready for bed and I can tell you about the people that supported XLM instead of XRP.” Johnny’s face lit up at the chance of changing the subject and wanted to know more about these XLM supporters. “What were these supporters called?” “Trash, Johnny… They were called trash.”