I guess it was inevitable that someone would end up as the chateau cautionary tale.
Chateau folk sitting around fireplaces with children and grandchildren recounting the story of poor MPK, how he had it all and lost it because of his own stupidity. Enabled by his mother, his friends, and strangers from around the world who believed in his talent, but were consistently let down by the fact that time and time again he squandered his talent and his money to chase after his lustful desires. After his looks and charm faded, he now sits alone in a dilapidated cottage on the main floor regretting his choices for not settling for a pine staircase. An unused second floor sadly collecting dust and memories of life, love, and laughter that are as faded as the trompe lāoeil art he painted decades earlier. While he was once a shining star with the world at his feet, fortune handed to him on a silver platter, his light has dimmed, the world moved on and forgot him like his cottage in the woods, slowing being engulfed by vines and regrets. The only joy he receives is staring at the gifts from his once admiring followers and stroking his chipped Spode teapot that once housed Fortnum and Mason tea, it now only pours Lipton.
āAnd that kids, is the reason we invested in cryptocurrency and never took two month vacations in Spain. The Endā