Even a tragic Monster can redeem itself.

Once there was a Monster. This creature mastered the powers of electricity and sound. It created wondrous analog cables, cords, adapters, and power gear. The villagers could see that the Monster’s creations were indeed superior. And they celebrated, and it was good.

The Monster’s chest swelled with pride. And more pride. And it began to believe it could perform magic, that its mere touch could endow an ordinary object with mystical powers. So it created a golden HDMI cable, and demanded much gold from the villagers in return.

Some of the villagers were fooled. They happily parted with their money, and told themselves that somehow the golden cable had made their ones and zeroes look better, sharper, more expensive.

But other villagers were not. They knew that there is no magic in an HDMI cable, and that the golden cable made precious little difference to the ones and zeroes. They told the other villagers, who felt rage at being duped. The villagers gathered pitchforks and scythes and other rusty, picturesque farm implements and headed for the Monster’s den to chase it away into the forest primeval.

The Monster tried to ignore the outcry. But as the noise grew louder and louder, the mob closer and closer, it knew it had to act. It would go back to the old ways. It would show the townspeople once again that it could make solid, dependable, bullshit-free analog gear despite its wild claims about its digital gear.

When the villagers finally gathered outside, demanding that the Monster show itself. It did, trembling before the assembled mob. But in its gnarled claw it held the 8-Outlet Green Power Surge Protector.

As one, the villagers gasped, shocked by the reminder of why they had loved the Monster so long ago, shamed by their own aggression - and suddenly unsure of their purpose outside the Monster’s den that night. The creature seized the moment.

“Do you not remember, my friends turned my persecutors, the legitimately pretty good stuff I once made? Have I not earned the right to your forgiveness for my occasional mistakes? When I brought you my guitar cables, did you not thrash? Did you not shred? Did you not wail? Yeah, OK, the HDMI thing was questionable, but give me some credit here.”

“Please forgive us, Monster,” the chastened mob replied. “With this surge protector, you remind us of your once and future wizardry, your genuine credibility with analog technology. But we’d like it a lot more at $10.”