When someone has so much, there

is no satisfaction. Inside it grows

cancer like, extending to every particle of their

being. No longer do the words create magic.

It is long defiled by the poison. The

poison that affects us all.

Does Ash know? Can he see what has happened? No,

he cannot. He is but part of the machine. Churned

out at monthly intervals. Churned out to those whose

vision is square. Churned out to fill the poket.

No longer the Poket monster