Anton spends another day wandering the Streets.  Listening to the ramblings of bereaved malcontents spewing conspiracy theories, spreading rumour and subterfuge, and missing the point completely.  These wretched buffoons, these vile chancers, preferring to be sad and angry instead of empowered and driven.  Anton must, he decides, help them.  For they are lost and lonely.

"It is no idle boast to say that I, and my father, grandmother, and great-grandfather have enjoyed rare access to those with their hands on the levers of power.  That is self-evident to those "in-the-know." 

I know what you are all wondering...

The crowd murmurs, until one peasant, his voice uneducated, high-pitched and offensive squeaked "how did your bloodline achieve this?"

How did my blood achieve this, you asked?  That's a very good question.  To answer it, we must go back in time.  My bloodline was not historically notable for access to the great and the good.  This much was true.  But through hard work, skill, a good head for business and no small of amount of dedication, an ancestor of mine became a very high rolling member of the now notorious Soviet State regime.

Now, membership of an elite powerhouse is not enough to facilitate the type of bloodline support that I now enjoy.  No, not even close.  In fact, it is not conjecture to posit that some of my ancestral antics as a power member of the Soviet State alienated powerful bloodlines.  But what my ancestor did right is network.  Hard.  Just because one is comfortable sat in a seat of power, one should not, not for one moment be thinking that it's a done deal.  Because it isn't.

So, what did my ancestor do during his time with the Soviet State?  He treated people well.  He was generous.  He was kind to his friends and courteous to his enemies.  In short, he weaponised his infamous charisma, and used his leadership position on the Streets to bring joy and cheer where there was none.  He also, with mixed results, became a duelling champion.  And his generosity extended to the children of those he killed during duels.  He, more or less, adopted these poor bastard orphans, and would from then on, refer to them as "son" - a term of love, and one uttered in shame and revulsion for the avoidable, if completely justifiable, executions of their hitherto "brave" fathers.  In this life, the foolhardy man is more fool than hardy.  

And, in doing these things, he ensured that doors leading to powerful offices would remain open for generations.

So this is what I have to say to the bleaters; the butt-hurt; the bereaved.  Fret and fuss not over the manner of his father's passing, but over what YOU can do to best serve the regimes currently in power. 

Complaining from the sidelines simply confirms what the powerful believe: that you are worthless fucking putas and that it is more fun killing you, and your friends, than it is letting you live and fail.  

You must understand that your lives, whilst currently futile, tragic, doomed to failure, and deemed expendable by the superior ranks of our society, might serve a purpose for your bloodline - but only if you chance and adopt the measures I have outlined above.  I will go into more details about the HOW, having explained the WHY.

HOW about, instead of spending hundreds of millions of dollars placing hits on your enemies, GIVE your enemies the money instead?  Say - hey, Mr CL of a victorious crew, you killed my dad.  I'd prefer you not to kill me, so how about I pay your $5M a week not to kill me?  I've got $300M stashed away, so that's quite a good earner for you!  What CL would turn down such an offer?  I wouldn't, I'll tell you that for nothing.

 

HOW about, instead of going on and on AND ON AND FUCKING ON about the "unfairness" of your dad's death, saying "yeah, my dad was a bit of a whiny punk-ass bitch.  I loved him, of course, but fuck it, he's dead now and I'm a different guy.  Here's $45M, let me demonstrate my use to you? 

 

HOW about, (and I'm looking at you TommyDonnelly), instead of SENDING BACK MONEY and refusing the HAND OF FRIENDSHIP, taking the money and kissing the hand of friendship?  Might mean you live a long and prosperous life, buddy?

And here is my SOLEMN VOW to every single one of the bleating losers whose relatives we killed last time round, if you do everything that I have suggested, and it still doesn't work, then I'll personally take you into my crew and assess your for leadership potential.  Do well, and I'll PERSONALLY SET YOU UP with your own HQ.

So, who is brave enough to step up to the plate? 

Wheeler listens as Anton makes his speech. As is usual, he found himself nodding along with most of the points made. Sure, Wheeler and Anton had different ways of going about things, and sure enough, didn’t always see eye to eye, but a long time ago, one of Wheelers ancestors had learned almost everything he knew from one of Antons, and the lessons learnt had stood him and his descendants in good stead ever since.

“Ah Anton, I can see you’re as exasperated as I am with this constant bitching in the streets. If only folk would put their pride to one side and accept that sometimes, things in this life just won’t go their way. Instead of coming out here and screeching in our ears about how unfair everything is. Life is unfair, and you’d think some of these more ancient bloodlines would have realised this by now.

I also note and appreciate your concern for our friend Tommy. Whilst he may have refused your offers of mentorship, I can assure you that I’ve taken him under my wing and he’s in good hands. Hopefully, one day the two of you will be able to break bread together, but until then, I’ll do my best to look after him.“

That's good to hear, Wheeler.  TommyDonnelly is indeed a good man, and I like him greatly.  I wanted to pay him a weekly wage to work for me, but he wasn't interested.