Kirsty, depressed that it had come to this, leaves her desk at the BBC's offices in Chicago, and takes the journey to the podium where her brother, uncles, father and grandfather often stood.  She is upset.  She begins to speak...

"This is a speech that I hoped never to have to give.  But it appears that it is somewhat necessary.  Fidd's speech brought attention my way that I didn't particularly want.  I have identified as Kirsty, for that is my name, but my surname, hidden until now, is Kuku.

Why was it hidden?  Well, for a few reasons.  The first is the danger and opprobrium that that name brings with it.  You see, if we think of some bloodlines who are despised, many are often feared as well.   The Kuku lineage is not one of them.  Kuku's are just despised and have been for years.  So, I wanted not only to start a life free from the status that being a Kuku brings with it, but to learn from the mistakes that were made.  

I wanted, basically, to become known for my interviews, for my position within my family, and for making and maintaining new bonds and friendships.  I think I have had some successes in that realm - I can't go into more details, but I have been quite active behind the scenes, in the newspaper and writing scenes.  Scenes that my bloodline have long been interested in, but, frankly, haven't had the talent to become known for.

There, I said it.  The Kuku line, whilst synonymous with the Streets, lack the talent, and body of work, to be considered along the greats of the newspaper publishing world, as well as the RP creative writing community.  Kuku's, it has to be said, found it easy to criticise than to participate.  

So, I tried.  I published a newspaper, I carried out interviews, and I've tried to mend bridges burned by my relatives in various writing communities.

A relative of mine was publicly executed by his boss and friend.  He died a miserable death.  I, as his daughter, rather than glorying in his rather squalid death, instead sought to learn from his mistakes.

I have taken part in a few debates - but I have never, to the best of my knowledge, talked down to anyone, and have always sought to learn.  I will defend my lineage, where appropriate, and I will challenge that which I feel is unfair.  But I have a set of rules and parameters that I seek to live by.

I want what everyone here wants: a place.  Whether that is a place at the top table in a powerful crew, as a high earner, a hitter, a newspaper magnate, or an interviewer of associates, it is why we are here.

Goldust, Matt_Murdock and Chalk have cautiously welcomed some of my overtures towards them.  As have SamAdams and Lordian.  
 

Now, let's talk about a vision for the future...

Well... that didn't last long.

Nipper listened to the short speech in utter disbelief. Dark eyes squinted and the blue face cocked to one side in some subconscious effort to digest the impossible shit that was being presented as sincerity. By the end, the blue faced fury spat out a burning Lucky Strike and walked over to Kirsty.

"OK fucker head, risen up!" 

"This is a speech that I hoped never to have to give. 

"Yes you did."

But it appears that it is somewhat necessary. 

"No it isn't."

Fidd's speech brought attention my way that I didn't particularly want. 

"Yes you did."

I have identified as Kirsty, for that is my name, but my surname, hidden until now, is Kuku.

"Yes, we arr know aready."

Why was it hidden? 

"It wasn't."

I wanted, basically, to become known for my interviews, for my position within my family, and for making and maintaining new bonds and friendships. I think I have had some successes in that realm

"No you haven't."

There, I said it.  The Kuku line, whilst synonymous with the Streets, lack the talent, and body of work, to be considered along the greats of the newspaper publishing world, as well as the RP creative writing community.  Kuku's, it has to be said, found it easy to criticise than to participate.  

"Oh ma fucking gawd. Is this finarry some grain of serf awareness from Kuku? No, it must be a trick."

A relative of mine was publicly executed by his boss and friend.  He died a miserable death.  I, as his daughter, rather than glorying in his rather squalid death, instead sought to learn from his mistakes.

"No you didn't."

I have taken part in a few debates - but I have never, to the best of my knowledge, talked down to anyone, and have always sought to learn. 

"Contender for biggest lie ever to come from Kuku mouth."

I will defend my lineage, where appropriate, and I will challenge that which I feel is unfair. 

"No you won't."

Now, let's talk about a vision for the future...

"How about you start with some genuine honesty and humirity? You arways prove incapabre of being anything but serf obsessed shit head. You courd be so..."

He stopped for a moment to think, then shook his head, almost dislodging a curler.

"Ah barrs to it, I not care. I have raundry to do back at shop. So rong sucker." 

Deciding the horse he was flogging had died years ago, he gave up on trying to help and shuffled off back into the crowd.