Wendy Wennigan is forty-two, exhausted, and one rent increase away from total disaster.

Then she throws a frozen hash brown.

Within minutes, FaceTok has transformed her worst moment into a national culture war. Overnight Wendy is somehow both a working-class hero and a dangerous extremist — while Burger Emperor quietly spins the whole scandal into a limited-time breakfast promotion.

But here’s the thing about the viral video: it starts after the real argument did. And when Wendy digs into who profited from her humiliation, she finds something worse than a bad day. The same handful of corporations own the platforms, the products, the politicians, the outrage campaigns, and the cultural identities keeping everyone at each other’s throats. The hate is the product. And business is booming.

So Wendy stops apologizing and starts organizing. She falls in with a gloriously unlikely crew of the equally exploited: a mechanic at war with disposable cars, a musician trapped in the gig economy, a creator whose platform literally claims ownership of her body, a teenage hacker with a Bluetooth pregnancy test, and one heavily armed grandmother. Together they set out to expose the machinery behind the country’s manufactured hatred.

Their rebellion runs on missing footage, shared bills, illegal tomatoes, community markets, broken algorithms, and one radical, dangerous discovery: the people they were trained to fear are just as tired and just as broke as they are.

We’re Too Broke to Hate Each Other is a fast, outrageous corporate-dystopian comedy about subscription life, social-media manipulation, economic exhaustion, and what happens when ordinary people finally stop shouting long enough to compare notes. It’s the funniest book you’ll read about being completely broke — and the angriest one that still makes you laugh.