In a stunning turn of events that has left economists scratching their heads and homeowners singing the praises of their newfound electricity bills, rooftop solar has officially joined the ranks of American dreams that turn out to be slightly more surreal than previously advertised. Yes, folks, welcome to "Sky High Savings," where the sun shines just for you—unless, of course, it’s behind a cloud, or perhaps it’s the middle of winter, or, you know, the sun completely sets. Consumers across the nation, lured by the promise of cheap, sustainable energy that would pay for itself in mere months, are now discovering their shiny solar panels have turned into little more than glorified home decor. “I thought I was saving money,” said lifelong optimist Betty Brightside, who invested her life savings into a rooftop installation that now doubles as a birdbath. “But it turns out the only thing cheaper than my energy bills is my ‘thank you’ card to the solar salesmen who ghosted me after installation.” In the spirit of transparency, solar companies have finally admitted that “payback period” is just corporate jargon for “time it takes to stop crying over your investment.” The previously disclosed figures that promised homeowners a 20% reduction in energy costs may as well be written in invisible ink at this point, as actual savings seem to hinge on variables like the weather, the angle of your roof, and the full alignment of all the planets every lunar eclipse. The Federal Energy Commission has launched an inquiry into the issue, leading to fiery congressional hearings that mostly serve as a platform for politicians to rehash their high school solar science projects. “It’s simple physics,” declares Congressman Bright Sass. “What goes up must come down. After all, we can’t expect the sun to show up on weekends!” Even the environmentalists are having a hard time keeping a straight face. “We were all for rooftop solar,” said one spokesperson while struggling to stifle laughter. “But at this point, it might be greener to just keep our money in a pot of houseplants at this rate. At least they look good and don’t take years to ‘mature.’” And let’s not forget the salespeople, those charming purveyors of hope and sunshine. Armed with promising power point presentations reinforced by a ring light and a solemn commitment to “saving the planet,” they have since fled into the night, leaving behind only a trail of smiling sun stickers and broken dreams. “Can’t wait to tell my kids they’ll remember I bought solar panels,” one man remarked, ironically scrolling through his smartphone to find the best price on portable generators. Experts are now recommending that anyone considering rooftop solar should first undergo rigorous sun meditations and spiritual affirmations to truly manifest the energy savings they’ve been promised. Tips such as “whisper sweet nothings to your solar panels” and “dance under a full moon to power your refrigerator” are becoming increasingly common. As the sun sets on yet another day of theta wave-induced wishful thinking, it is clear that solar energy is here to stay—much like its owners, who are realizing that the only real savings ahead may involve cutting back on brunch. In the end, who needs energy when you’ve got a rooftop view?