O Master, what flame? What moth?
O my child, that flame, there! That moth! Mark Lovett is a Mothman, very much like the Cornish Owlman we all know and love; and Ignis Asset Management is the flame, very much like the sort of flame you see leaving my mouth on a good night of burnings in our favourite place.
O Master, you must be mistaken! They say that the Mothman is a man-sized creature with glowing red eyes and the wings of a moth. Some say he has no head. They reckon his eyes are set in his chest - as a sort of compensation, I suppose. Have you actually seen a photograph of Mr Lovett? He's one of these cheerful types without a care in the world. Hardly Mothman material.
O my child, it's an illusion. Look at him! Look beneath the cheerful exterior. These demonic ones are all the same. They smile at us, but Christ knows what atrocities they are cooking up. Oh, I see his wings! I see his red eyes!
O Master, can you see him now? Is he here?
Yes, I see him now. He is here.
Where? You're having a psychotic episode! There's no Mothman. And no Mr Lovett. Just me, the voice in your head. Isn't my voice enough? Why must you keep pushing it to the limit? You will drive yourself insane. One day, you won't be able to get back.
Oh, I see the flame too! If I were to touch Ignis Asset Management, it would have no effect on me. But a moth in that flame? What do you think will happen, when he gets there? Only a few days to go! He will be destroyed! And good riddance! Mark Lovett ain't no friendly Owlman, stuffing his face with pasties!
O Master, it's true, Mr Lovett will start work at Ignis next week, but there will be no destruction of no freakin' Mothman in no flippin' flame! Get a grip! With around £69 billion of assets under management, Ignis offers a compelling proposition for advisers and investors. Its unique model comprises a series of entrepreneurial investment teams, in both its core proprietary business and its joint venture boutiques: Cartesian, Argonaut and HEXAM. So can't you see, there's nothing to worry about?!
O my child, Monday, there will be nothing to worry about! Monday can't come soon enough. Then he'll be out of my mind. Hopefully, I won't be out of my mind. If only Mr Lovett were half man half biscuit. That's something I could cope with. A mug of tea would settle it. But I get a moth! Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Is it a test? Did the gods tell this terrible Mothman to hound me to ... to an early grave? No! I refuse to believe that. I know who's behind this. The world's most demonic financier, Jack -
O Master, you're getting into the realm of fantasy now; not that you've ever been anywhere else. [I will never leave the realm of fantasy. It's where all the action is.] Having said that, one man's fantasy is another man's everyday reality. [Listen to this mystic child, dear reader. He knows a thing or two.] But you can't keep blaming Jack for everything.
Yes I can! I know the gods wouldn't harm me. I know the ghosts of the dead financiers wouldn't send this moth my way. It can only be Jack Pickles, backed to the hilt by Satan! Who else has the muscle? Who has the will?
Oh, for crying out loud! If that's what you think, what you fear, I won't question it any more. But look within!
O my child, why should I look within in?
O Master, look within.
O my child, that flame, there! That moth! Mark Lovett is a Mothman, very much like the Cornish Owlman we all know and love; and Ignis Asset Management is the flame, very much like the sort of flame you see leaving my mouth on a good night of burnings in our favourite place.
O Master, you must be mistaken! They say that the Mothman is a man-sized creature with glowing red eyes and the wings of a moth. Some say he has no head. They reckon his eyes are set in his chest - as a sort of compensation, I suppose. Have you actually seen a photograph of Mr Lovett? He's one of these cheerful types without a care in the world. Hardly Mothman material.
O my child, it's an illusion. Look at him! Look beneath the cheerful exterior. These demonic ones are all the same. They smile at us, but Christ knows what atrocities they are cooking up. Oh, I see his wings! I see his red eyes!
O Master, can you see him now? Is he here?
Yes, I see him now. He is here.
Where? You're having a psychotic episode! There's no Mothman. And no Mr Lovett. Just me, the voice in your head. Isn't my voice enough? Why must you keep pushing it to the limit? You will drive yourself insane. One day, you won't be able to get back.
Oh, I see the flame too! If I were to touch Ignis Asset Management, it would have no effect on me. But a moth in that flame? What do you think will happen, when he gets there? Only a few days to go! He will be destroyed! And good riddance! Mark Lovett ain't no friendly Owlman, stuffing his face with pasties!
O Master, it's true, Mr Lovett will start work at Ignis next week, but there will be no destruction of no freakin' Mothman in no flippin' flame! Get a grip! With around £69 billion of assets under management, Ignis offers a compelling proposition for advisers and investors. Its unique model comprises a series of entrepreneurial investment teams, in both its core proprietary business and its joint venture boutiques: Cartesian, Argonaut and HEXAM. So can't you see, there's nothing to worry about?!
O my child, Monday, there will be nothing to worry about! Monday can't come soon enough. Then he'll be out of my mind. Hopefully, I won't be out of my mind. If only Mr Lovett were half man half biscuit. That's something I could cope with. A mug of tea would settle it. But I get a moth! Why me? What have I done to deserve this? Is it a test? Did the gods tell this terrible Mothman to hound me to ... to an early grave? No! I refuse to believe that. I know who's behind this. The world's most demonic financier, Jack -
O Master, you're getting into the realm of fantasy now; not that you've ever been anywhere else. [I will never leave the realm of fantasy. It's where all the action is.] Having said that, one man's fantasy is another man's everyday reality. [Listen to this mystic child, dear reader. He knows a thing or two.] But you can't keep blaming Jack for everything.
Yes I can! I know the gods wouldn't harm me. I know the ghosts of the dead financiers wouldn't send this moth my way. It can only be Jack Pickles, backed to the hilt by Satan! Who else has the muscle? Who has the will?
Oh, for crying out loud! If that's what you think, what you fear, I won't question it any more. But look within!
O my child, why should I look within in?
O Master, look within.
