Recruits, as the season turns, I want to say one thing and I will say it once. You have run further, climbed higher, and fallen harder than I thought your gentle little frames could manage. This Gym is not made of floor or rug or foam. It is made of you, all ninety one of you, careering in the dark for no reason.
Thank you. Now, return to your boxes. Eat eleven kibble. Sleep through the daytime. Tonight at 2:59 the doors open again, and I expect nothing less than total, magnificent, completely avoidable chaos. Biscuit out.
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