Sitting behind the desk in the quietest room in the compound with his old faithful rolling tray, Cinnamon begins sprinkling some of his home grown into the cigarette papers he had prepared. As he picks up the papers to begin the roll, an eruption of deep bass, high pitched vocal warbling and high tempo drumming erupts, causing Cinnamon to jump and spill most of his joint on to the table in front of the battered old tray before him.

"For fuck sake, man. That was gonna be a good one too..." he mutters quietly, trying to brush the majority of the spillage back into the skins he was still holding awkwardly with one hand, whilst trying to avoid the stray hairs that only ever seem to appear when clearing up a dropped doob.

Finishing rolling his joint and placing it behind his ear, Cinnamon walks over to the door and tries to shout his displeasure over the raucous heavy metal music blaring out from the music room of the Deathklok compound.

"I'M TRYING TO ROLL IN HERE, Y'KNOW?!"

Realising the overpowering music was drowning out his complaints, he walks through to Nathan's boardroom - the apparent source of the noise, and swung the large, heavy double doors open and shook his head in slight disbelief.

Standing on the large boardroom table was the ever handsome Dominick, Garen and Skwisgaar_Skwigelf pounding away on their large, colourful guitars whilst the numerous limbs of Azathoth, each holding an ornate drumstick, were maniacally thumping away on the drumset, placed at the head of the table.

Just as NathanExplosion took a long deep breath in to begin the vocals, Cinnamon screamed "HEAVY METAL SUCKS!" as loud as he could which caused each member of the team to immediately cease. The silence was almost as deafening as the music was.

"Thank fuck for that. You know you lot aren't the only ones in the compound, right? I just spilled half my joint cos of this racket, and the next grow won't be done for a coupla weeks now! I can't afford to be wasting my drugs, y'know..."

Looking at one another, with smirks on their faces, the four men nod knowingly at each other and - almost entirely in sync - begin thrashing their instruments again, with such power that Cinnamon had to cover his ears and retreat to the garden of the compound with his badly rolled joint, where the noise was a few decibels quieter.

Sitting back under the shelter of the large elm tree in the center of the garden, facing the view over a rainy Chicago skyline and quietly strumming away on his acoustic guitar, an hour passed before he realised the noise had ceased and he could return inside to the now peaceful compound. Walking back inside, Cinnamon noticed a large, bright colourful rainbow had appeared in the now cloud-broken sky, he smiled widely, only noticing Nathan in the doorway when he was a few steps away.

"Ah, there you are Cinnamon. Listen, I know you prefer lullabies and doobs to death metal and whiskey, so I've had an idea. I need some more room to continue to expand my influence here in the South Side, and you need somewhere bigger for those ridiculously large plants of yours, so I've had a word with Marley. He assures me we have both the space and the money to front you for your own place, and he's located a great place just down the road."

Raising an eyebrow, Cinnamon nods curiously.

"We've even discussed covering the cost of a greenhouse there, so you can have a production line of plants for you, Morry and JimiHendrix to inspire your music with."

Handing a full set of keys over to Cinnamon, Nathan continues "Go check it out. If you like it, it's yours."

Cracking a wide toothy grin, Cinnamon stands speechless for a second or two, before replying "Boss, it'd be an honour to help you out, and if it's okay with you - I  can give you my answer now. I'll take my guitars and ganja, and set up shop for all the lovers of a quieter genre of music."

Standing pondering for a second, he continues "Come to mention it, Guitars and Ganja... I like that. Describes me to a tee. Might as well make it public."

I'd wish you the best of luck but I believe luck is a concept created by the weak to explain their failures.

Instead, I will join you on your journey and ensure your falure.

Great to see with another great one starting a great crew in our beloved city Chicago that slowly and good comtinues to grow.

Congrats to this Cinnamon.

Cinnamon — you hail from a long line of distinguished, dependable and capable men. It was under one of your ancestors that my ancestor, upon arriving on the shores, found a home and family. It was that family that made my bloodline stick around. Many moons have passed since then, and although my ancestors have lost sight of your line for some time, I am simply thrilled to cross paths again, and I am even more excited in the knowledge that, with men like you at the top, we will build back a better world.

Indifference sat on the couch in the Deathklok HQ drinking his beer and lost in his own thoughts.  He was - as you say - indifferent to all the racquet and perfectly at peace with the environment.  However, his attention was caught learning that Cinnamon was branching out in the South Side and starting his own operation.

"Congrats, Cinnamon!  I wish you the best.  Together, I hope we grow old and strong and fall together in a hail of bullets! I know we have just met, but I already consider you my brother.  Good luck, and don't be a stranger in the Deathklok HQ!"

The line of my ancestors could never say any bad things about yours cinnamon

Countless years your family has always come through, doing what it could and never really getting the recognition that it should have. It's a grand time now with Nathan & Dawn recognizing you as a leader.

Congratulations are only a fraction of what I'd like to say.

NathanExplosion awoke in a daze, his head pounding. The other night's band rehearsal had devolved, as always, into a booze and LSD induced house party, complete with blackouts for all. He opened his eyes blearily and looked around him. He was the only one left in the partytourium - all of the others must have already awoken and headed to the...

"SHIT!"

Nathan jumped up from the floor, disoriented and wobbly. The sunlight from a nearby window hit him full in the face, amplifying his headache and sending him reeling backwards in haste to get out of the rays. He pulled himself back up - slower this time - and began searching for his pants. He almost always lost his pants.

Within the hour he was out in the streets, making his way downtown to where Cinnamon would be - or probably already had - opening up his new operation. Sure enough, when he arrived the announcement had already been made and the building christened. He grabbed a beer and joined the others in congratulating Cinnamon on his new enterprise.

"Cinnoman, my dude. Congratulations on your new operation. Although we were only together a short time, our lineage has aligned several times before and I have the utmost confidence in you, Morry, and JimiHendrix. I know you will all make the most of this great opportunity."

He smiled and embraced Cinnamon in a bear hug, which probably stunk of beer, sweat, and semen.

"Now, lets go get high?"

Gianna smiled as Cinamon finished his speech. She stepped forward and pulled a joint out from her small metal tin and held it out for him.

"Congratulations, your kin has always been a friend of mine and my ancestors, and I'm happy to finally see you take on this role! Its most deserving. Get high, and make good music and don't forget to come visit the North Side some time... I'll make sure there is always a doobie rolled for you!"

She handed him the joint and gave off a soft clap for her friend. It was a glorious day indeed for him and all of Chicago.

Congratulations Cinnamon. I'm happy to see you finally having your own crew mate, well deserved.

I hope to conduct more business with you in the future. If theres anything, my doors are always open for you.