One dawn of the beautiful city of Chicago, sheds a ray of first light onto the city. What seems like a dust storm, becomes visible - coating the skies and path way, as people start to broom the streets - Children start to play. shops start to open, people start working, yet in a little apartment, bottles and clothes coating the floor - written letters come flooding through the under the door with congratulations and one dollar imprinted with a nail.

With a bottle in hand and what seems to be ink on his forehead, Scratchy wakes up - getting up from his slumber, now sitting on his bed, looking at the destruction of his shitty apartment - Scratchy misses the bed with his hand trying to get himself up - in his hangover state, slipping back down in a lying down position. With great effort - Scratchy picks himself up again, stumbling towards the door as his letters seem to flood through his doorway, picking each one up and throwing them on his bed, as a new made man - Scratchy needs to do some working,

'It aint a free livin' yet,' Scratchy thought to himself.

Throwing off his jacket and clothes from the binge Scratchy indulged in as he was promoted - new clothes seem to flutter onto Scratchy as he walks down the stairs, creaking and expelling strange smells off the carpets, running down into the doors of the reception, through into the outside. Standing on a couple of concrete stairs, he looks into the the dawns sky - as a fresh breeze of cold air brushes past the elated Scratchy, he takes a large inhale,

"Time to make some money."