Chapter 1: The Birth of the Rougers

In the blazing summer of 1849, the city of Baton Rouge saw the emergence of an unusual currency known as the "Rougers." This odd monetary unit took its name from the latter part of the city's title. The mastermind behind this fiscal folly was Cornelius P. Goldtooth, whose business prowess was as dubious as his dental hygiene—he proudly showcased a single golden tooth, claiming it held the value of "at least fifty Rougers."

Cornelius, who fancied himself a financial genius (though common sense seemed to vanish in his presence), launched the Rougers with grandiose declarations of economic transformation. However, the currency was as eccentric as its creator. Each Rouger was a small, irregularly shaped metal piece adorned with Cornelius's visage on one side and a random animal on the other—ranging from alligators to perplexed chickens.

The reasons for the Rougers' spectacular downfall were as plentiful as mosquitoes on a sultry Louisiana evening:

• Bizarre Valuation: Cornelius determined that the worth of a Rouger would fluctuate with the lunar phases. During a full moon, a Rouger could buy you a loaf of bread, while during a new moon, you were lucky to get a stick of gum.
• Confusing Denominations: Instead of logical denominations, Cornelius issued Rougers in odd increments such as 3.5, 7/8, and 16 2/3, insisting it would "sharpen the mind."
• Counterfeit Crisis: With no standard shape or size, fake Rougers proliferated more rapidly than mushrooms in the bayou, even leading children to mint their own versions as part of their games.
• The Goldtooth Tax: Cornelius levied a "small" fee of 0.275 Rougers on every transaction involving Rougers, payable directly to him. This not only confused the public but also caused a shortage of 1/4 Rougers for making change.
• Animal Uproar: The random animals depicted on the Rougers incited superstitions and strange trading customs. For instance, people hesitated to accept a chicken Rouger during the Rooster month, fearing it would bring misfortune.

Despite Cornelius's boisterous (and often irritating) advertisements, the Rougers sank like a bag of beignets tossed into the Mississippi. By the close of 1849, the Rougers had become little more than a quirky anecdote in Baton Rouge's narrative, while Cornelius P. Goldtooth had already embarked on his next venture—innovative alligator-powered paddle boats. But that, as they say, is a tale for another time.

Chapter 2: A Legacy of Laughter

The aftermath of the Rougers may have left Baton Rouge in fits of laughter, but it also serves as a reminder of the whimsical side of economics.