It was September and the sunny summer days in Chicago had come to a tragic end. The highs of July and August had faded away and we were firmly on the path towards a dark and gloomy winter. The Grin Gang HQ was not a modern structure. Solid brick walls had been the fashion when it was constructed and timber framed windows and doors adorned the openings; single glazed, naturally, meaning that it was not particularly warm when the weather turned. In fact, it would be fair to say that it became fucking freezing in there. 

I knew this because I had grown up in this building. My room had been on the second floor between the billiard room and the VIP credit storage chamber. I would often sneak into the storage chamber and eye up the assorted riches of Dad's raids through Grinwood Forest with a gleam in my eye and a desire burning in my heart to achieve something similar. The allure of that room was too much for me as a young man, but I eventually used that to my advantage; Shannon couldn't resist it either and 9 months later little Grin-10 came falling head first into the world. 

Alas, that was all a very long time ago now, happier days for sure and with a lot less purging going on. In my mind the halls were constantly filled with laughter. Friends aplenty stopping by and the table regularly set for eight to enjoy a hearty feast prepared by my manservant, Dom. It was typically myself, Shannon, FrankCastle and then his 5 identical twins who collectively chaperoned Shannon on her visits here when time permitted between praising their own writing prowess. How nice it had been for them to get a glimpse of how the other half lived.

It had always been cold though, positively Arctic in fact and I was determined to change that. The recently renamed Purge Regime Central would be warm. Always. There was nothing worse than sitting down in the high backed leather chair, enjoying the view through the orangery of a few innocent Wise Guys lined up at the gallows out in the back yard, and feeling a chill against your legs. Spoiled the whole experience. Not this year. Oh no. I had ordered the fires to be lit early and as I took off my Earner-skin driving gloves and hung up my Goomba-lined jacket, the smoke pumped happily through the flues and out of the chimney stacks, casting a lovely choking black ash cloud over most of The Loop.

"Tea, Sir?" Asked Dom, already holding the family silver service platter in his dainty upturned palms. What would I do without him?

"Please, Dom," I said as I headed towards the study as he dutifully rattled the good china in my wake, following after me. "I've a mind to do a little end-of-Summer tidying."

"Very good, Sir." 

Like most other things, an end-of-Summer tidying was code for purging. I couldn't get enough of it; Curtis or I, truth be told. This was going to be a little treat to me from me though, I wasn't sharing it with anyone. I'd spent too many cold nights in my late teens, teeth chattering as completely undeserved legs had kicked gamely in the wind. I owed this to myself and I strode excitedly into the study to have my cake and eat it too.

"DOM!" I yelled, pointing angrily towards the empty fireplace. "WHY THE FUCK ISN'T MY FIRE LIT?"

"We're out of fuel, Sir," Dom replied looking nervously at anywhere but me. I'd always fucking hated him. "I used the last of it to heat the vestibule."

"THE VESTIBULE? THE FUCKING VESTIBULE? WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THE VESTIBULE, DOM?"

"Well, I, I mean, Sir. You did say you wanted it lit," he managed to stammer out before seeing my raging thunder-face and quickly stopping himself. 

"You little wretch, Dom. You wasted all my fucking fuel. Now how am I supposed to enjoy this hanging eh? Do you expect me to just sit and watch it with a coat on or something? One of your shitty suits? Do I look like a fucking purge-peasant to you, Dom? A man who can't even have himself a fucking fire whilst he has a fucking hanging? Is that what you take me for, Dom? Some sort of purge-pretender?" He cringed away and didn't answer which annoyed me even more. One shitty answer and I would throw him on there instead.

"I'm sorry, Sir, truly I-"

"Shut your dim little mouth Dom, you've  actually given me a great idea," I said suddenly excited. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it before. "What do we have lots of that we never have anything to do with?"

Dom paused for a moment, desperately trying to work himself back into my favour. "I'm not..I'm not entirely sure, Sir...er, death threats? TylerDurden wack attempts?"

"No, no, no. More, Dom. Much more. Think more transparent and defeatist. Think trying to change the definition of rogue to fail to make an asinine point'," I said with an eponymous smile on my face. Realisation hit Dom like a hangover fart. "That's right. Fetch me some Spike corpses!" 

"Right away, Sir! Of course, Sir! That's brilliant," and he quickly scuttled off to get me my fuel. 

"How about this one, Sir?" Dom asked, holding out a particularly lame looking corpse. I read the label dangling from the toe:

Aug 23, 22:16:57    You WACKED! SpikeOfThePeople.

"Ah yes, one of the early losers. Very good, Dom. Toss him on," I said, gesturing with my head towards the open fire. I looked out over the yard where the young Earner meat was aging nicely in their enclosure. Not much longer now and they would have put on enough weight for a healthy purge. Dom was nosily breaking fingers from skeletal hands. Should I have some of the exotic Seattle stock next or was homegrown Chicago beef the order of the day? Decisions, decisions. 

this speech did not age well.

Bahahahahaha too bad it took so long after your besties rape fantasy!

Man, you could've saw this coming a mile away.

Rest in shit LarryLongNeck and Disorder