"The warmth of another day wears down and the burning Sun reduces itself into a dying ember. People wander off into the streets, away from home in search for a companion -or multiple companions- to pass the winter cold. They wander the dream-like daze of a night filled with an electric desire ignited by hunger. A spark that burns bright, a hunger that digs deep and leaves them expectant. There is this illusion that serves as their guide. There is this illusion in their heads as they line-up at their make-shift slaughterhouse. There is this top dog illusion that makes them feel like winners in a lose-lose situation. It'll be a black day. A departmental war. And as the war pigs line-up, the nation gets ready to blow up with greed. It's a Black Friday that consumes humanity and what's leftover is bound to waste away in the Grey days that follow..." -Patrick Oneill, author