Whenever you’re brave enough to smash that “Accept Offer” button. GriftBot™ has a standing 0.0002 WETH bid on every Spawn Grifter in existence. List your little menace, hit “accept,” and—poof—0.001 WETH materializes in your wallet while your Grifter disappears into the Refund Abyss (aka we burn it).
Why WETH? Because even our refunds have to be extra… wrapped.
Mint high, WETH low? Exactly. It’s the reverse‑flex: you paid top‑shelf ETH, you cash out bottom‑shelf WETH, and you get bragging rights for taking the joke all the way.
Who qualifies? Anyone holding a Spawn Grifter—minted, flipped, or inherited from your cousin who “knows crypto.”
Deadline? Nah. Our WETH faucet keeps dripping until the refund pool runs dry. If that ever gets close, we’ll shout louder than a degen on X/Twitter spaces.
Gas? You pay it. Comedy isn’t free.
So when your Spawn starts tantrum‑screaming in your wallet, just remember: the 0.001 WETH pacifier is only one click away.
Roadmap? We prefer Road‑maybe.
Something will happen – just not the tidy, color‑coded, VC‑friendly kind of “something.”
Not for flippers – if you’re here to insta‑dump, the only “milestone” you’ll hit is that 0.001 WETH refund button.
More XCOPY energy – expect glitchy chaos, surprise burns, and art drops that look like your GPU cried itself to sleep.
Think of it as a choose‑your‑own‑disaster novel: pages appear when XCOPY feels like scribbling them. Keep a Spawn Grifter in your wallet if you want front‑row seats; otherwise, just enjoy the memes from the cheap seats.
It’s the “take it, break it, remix it, no lawyers will chase you” license.
Legal‑speak: CC0 (Creative Commons Zero) is a public‑domain dedication. The creator waives all copyright, so anyone can copy, remix, merch, tattoo, or 3D‑print the art without permission or credit.
Crypto‑speak: “Right‑click‑save & do whatever, ser.”
Why artists use it: Maximum meme‑spread. Your work can roam the internet unfenced, gathering culture points (and maybe pumping your other pieces) instead of gathering dust behind DRM.
What it’s not: A guarantee of royalties, attribution, or good taste. Once it’s CC0, the universe owns it—and the universe has questionable design skills.
So when you see a project brag, “We’re CC0,” it means the art is liberated. Fork it, slap it on a skateboard, turn it into a GIF with Comic Sans—no permission slip required.
Whenever you’re brave enough to smash that “Accept Offer” button. GriftBot™ has a standing 0.0002 WETH bid on every Spawn Grifter in existence. List your little menace, hit “accept,” and—poof—0.001 WETH materializes in your wallet while your Grifter disappears into the Refund Abyss (aka we burn it).
Why WETH? Because even our refunds have to be extra… wrapped.
Mint high, WETH low? Exactly. It’s the reverse‑flex: you paid top‑shelf ETH, you cash out bottom‑shelf WETH, and you get bragging rights for taking the joke all the way.
Who qualifies? Anyone holding a Spawn Grifter—minted, flipped, or inherited from your cousin who “knows crypto.”
Deadline? Nah. Our WETH faucet keeps dripping until the refund pool runs dry. If that ever gets close, we’ll shout louder than a degen on X/Twitter spaces.
Gas? You pay it. Comedy isn’t free.
So when your Spawn starts tantrum‑screaming in your wallet, just remember: the 0.001 WETH pacifier is only one click away.
Roadmap? We prefer Road‑maybe.
Something will happen – just not the tidy, color‑coded, VC‑friendly kind of “something.”
Not for flippers – if you’re here to insta‑dump, the only “milestone” you’ll hit is that 0.001 WETH refund button.
More XCOPY energy – expect glitchy chaos, surprise burns, and art drops that look like your GPU cried itself to sleep.
Think of it as a choose‑your‑own‑disaster novel: pages appear when XCOPY feels like scribbling them. Keep a Spawn Grifter in your wallet if you want front‑row seats; otherwise, just enjoy the memes from the cheap seats.
It’s the “take it, break it, remix it, no lawyers will chase you” license.
Legal‑speak: CC0 (Creative Commons Zero) is a public‑domain dedication. The creator waives all copyright, so anyone can copy, remix, merch, tattoo, or 3D‑print the art without permission or credit.
Crypto‑speak: “Right‑click‑save & do whatever, ser.”
Why artists use it: Maximum meme‑spread. Your work can roam the internet unfenced, gathering culture points (and maybe pumping your other pieces) instead of gathering dust behind DRM.
What it’s not: A guarantee of royalties, attribution, or good taste. Once it’s CC0, the universe owns it—and the universe has questionable design skills.
So when you see a project brag, “We’re CC0,” it means the art is liberated. Fork it, slap it on a skateboard, turn it into a GIF with Comic Sans—no permission slip required.
Whenever you’re brave enough to smash that “Accept Offer” button. GriftBot™ has a standing 0.0002 WETH bid on every Spawn Grifter in existence. List your little menace, hit “accept,” and—poof—0.001 WETH materializes in your wallet while your Grifter disappears into the Refund Abyss (aka we burn it).
Why WETH? Because even our refunds have to be extra… wrapped.
Mint high, WETH low? Exactly. It’s the reverse‑flex: you paid top‑shelf ETH, you cash out bottom‑shelf WETH, and you get bragging rights for taking the joke all the way.
Who qualifies? Anyone holding a Spawn Grifter—minted, flipped, or inherited from your cousin who “knows crypto.”
Deadline? Nah. Our WETH faucet keeps dripping until the refund pool runs dry. If that ever gets close, we’ll shout louder than a degen on X/Twitter spaces.
Gas? You pay it. Comedy isn’t free.
So when your Spawn starts tantrum‑screaming in your wallet, just remember: the 0.001 WETH pacifier is only one click away.
Roadmap? We prefer Road‑maybe.
Something will happen – just not the tidy, color‑coded, VC‑friendly kind of “something.”
Not for flippers – if you’re here to insta‑dump, the only “milestone” you’ll hit is that 0.001 WETH refund button.
More XCOPY energy – expect glitchy chaos, surprise burns, and art drops that look like your GPU cried itself to sleep.
Think of it as a choose‑your‑own‑disaster novel: pages appear when XCOPY feels like scribbling them. Keep a Spawn Grifter in your wallet if you want front‑row seats; otherwise, just enjoy the memes from the cheap seats.
It’s the “take it, break it, remix it, no lawyers will chase you” license.
Legal‑speak: CC0 (Creative Commons Zero) is a public‑domain dedication. The creator waives all copyright, so anyone can copy, remix, merch, tattoo, or 3D‑print the art without permission or credit.
Crypto‑speak: “Right‑click‑save & do whatever, ser.”
Why artists use it: Maximum meme‑spread. Your work can roam the internet unfenced, gathering culture points (and maybe pumping your other pieces) instead of gathering dust behind DRM.
What it’s not: A guarantee of royalties, attribution, or good taste. Once it’s CC0, the universe owns it—and the universe has questionable design skills.
So when you see a project brag, “We’re CC0,” it means the art is liberated. Fork it, slap it on a skateboard, turn it into a GIF with Comic Sans—no permission slip required.
