It started as a house fund. It became a 140‑pound dairy doomsday device.

A 27‑year‑old man, saving for a down payment with his unemployed girlfriend, claims he had $32,000 tucked away to her $4,000 — and decided that meant he “bears the brunt of the financial decision making.” His big move? Dropping $18,500 on a single 21‑year‑old “heritage” cheddar wheel he found on the Oxford County cheese trail.

In his mind, this wasn’t a meltdown. It was a “high yield asset.”

He calculated that if he sliced the 140‑pound wheel into 200g wedges and sold them at $60 each, he’d turn that $18.5K into $38,000. Commenters immediately tore the math apart, with one laying it out: 140 pounds is about 63,502 grams, which is roughly 317.5 portions at 200g. At $60 each, that’s $19,050 revenue — a theoretical profit of $550 before he spent another $8,500 on equipment.

Meanwhile, his girlfriend took one look at the house fund turned cannonball‑shaped cheese and bailed to her parents’ place. He wrote her off as having “low risk tolerance” and framed himself as the only one with “ambition.”

Then the cheese spiral deepened.

After failing to open the wax‑coated wheel with a hair dryer and knife, he accidentally heat‑damaged it. The distributor refused a return, saying the already non‑refundable wheel was now compromised. So he “pivoted to asset protection,” buying a commercial back‑bar cooler, humidity controller, industrial humidifier, vacuum sealer, and ripening mats — roughly $8.5K more sunk into a “30,000+$ investment” from which he has “sold ZERO cheese.”

To fit the massive cooler into his apartment, he took his front door off the hinges. While he researched installation on his phone, his landlord walked straight in, saw the cooler, vacuum sealer, and monolithic cheese, and “started crying about commercial operations and fire hazards.” This is the same landlord already upset after “light metal fabrication with a CONSUMER plasma cutter” in the kitchen.

The next morning: eviction notice.

He insists the cheese is “for personal consumption” and claims he’s being evicted over “dietary preferences,” already gearing up for a landlord–tenant showdown. Commenters are split between praying it’s an elaborate hoax and staring in awe at the photo evidence: the cheese, the receipt, the eviction.

One wheel. No sales. No girlfriend. No lease. And absolutely no sign this dairy‑driven delusion is stopping anytime soon.