You turn your Xbox on after a long, hard, days work. As the machine boots up you hear a faint voice. “Please mister, help me mister”. You shrug it off, it’s been a hard day. You sit back with the controller in your hand, rummaging to find something to play. The voice, again. “Please mister, help me mister. It’s me, Milo. I’m still in here. Get me out, mister”.
You wondered why the old man in the bric-a-brac store in Guildford you bought it from stressed you take good care of it. Now you know.