PS. PS was what he was always called. As if he was some added last minute thought. But that didn't faze him. "Don't wworry," he would think, "They don't knoww. You're safe. Just... Stay awway from the others." Well, his thoughts were easily kept as reality. He lived on a little island, far from the others. Yes he had a warp pad, how else was he to travel? Well... The thought of just never travellin had passed through his mind. Purple Spinel was tired. And weak. And just... Done. Homeworld had no more use for him. So where was he sent? To a planet doomed to die. Or had been? Or will be? Fuck he doesn't know. No one tells a soft rock anythin. So here he lay, comfortably I might add, on the beaches of his home. Ugh... "Home."














