A handsome man steps out of a limo.  He is dressed in black, and looks like a younger version of a man cruelly snatched from these very streets mere hours before... 

"My father, Leonard, was a man for whom humility was second nature.  He would not have wanted any great fanfare to mark his murder.  Leonard learned from his father before him that a life in the limelight was often no life at all.  Leonard had competing priorities.  He wanted a quiet life of humility, yes, but he also want to create the best and most exciting newspaper that has ever been created.  For many, this contradiction would be impossible to unpick.  But not for my father.  He remained humble, yet connected to the upper echelons of four families.  He was a key member of a Godfather crew.  He travelled from city to city, chasing tips and leads, and he never shied away from the truth.

This world had not seen the best of him, yet.

And then, he was murdered, in his sleep, by Garou.  Why?  For a few measly dollars.  That is all.  It was murder for hire.

You see, Leonard became a blood sacrifice: he was killed because of the malevolence of a tiny minority of resentful intellectual pygmies, Hell-bent on a perverse sense of vengence.

I know what Leonard would have said to those people, for he had affection for them, one and all.  He would have said "son, let it go.  Let go it it son.  Son, if you keep holding onto it, that's all you'll have.  Don't you want more, son?  Son, holding onto a resentment is like swallowing poison and waiting for the other guy to die."

Leonard didn't know resentment, or murderous intent.  They were alien concepts, removed from him during his time on Mount Baldy.

I am keen to learn from him, but right now, that is hard.

It is hard because Garou killed him for the tiny sum of $5,000,000.  It is rumoured that some prominent and prestigious bloodlines received bounties of up to one billion dollars.

So Garou killed him for what was, to Leonard, and many like him, a few hour's play.

Garou pulled the trigger, but others pointed the finger.  Those that pointed the finger, well, they aren't terribly important people.  They live for the most part obsessing over people like my father, and trying to compensate for their own pain.

I see their pain.  I want to help them heal.  So I ask those who targeted my father to contact me via a special, dedicated message box, which is situated HERE. 

They have nothing to fear.  They may speak freely.  But, please, use the special message system.

RIP Leonard.  And spare a thought for Garou: reduced to risking his life for a mere $5 million.  It is pathetic.

And warm affection to Leonard's still suffering detractors.  May their pain ease."

With that, Leonard_Cohen steps into a limo and heads back to Mount Baldy.

As I told Richard, I would never invite this Leonard person to any of my candlelight suppers.

Way too lower middle class.

No way I would trust him with my delicate China.

Sir, you sound like a ass.

Appears not many enjoy your company for reasons unknown my bloodline has been informed to steer clear, from what I heard the bounty was 25,000,000 by the way

Milifi shook their head and proceeded to explore the life of the underground workings 

Malifi's brows quirked flicking the cigarette bud on the ground, stubbing it out a malevolent laugh forming, brewing while "listening" to the delusional man. 

Help me? With what? Stubbing your bloodline once more? Dontcha got 2.5kids looking for ya old man?

I ain't hurt, sad, traumatised by the events though seems I got some coin chucked my way for saying what everyone's thinking... a crazy delusional  faith seeker meerly  begging for attention like the priest on the corner scammin some old lady for a 50...

While your father was blissfully sIeeping believe some larger donations to the hitlist was made... while I'm nothing but civilian in dis thing, may I suggest some back alley for you to shout in... ringing yoir deafening bell

Malifi - help you with your pain.

You've stubbed my bloodline?  What does that mean? 

I like you, Leonard_Cohen.

Just like me, you seem to be the type of person that will let their favourite horse walk freely inside of your mansion, snuggle up in front of the fireplace with them before you feed your best of a couple of thousand dogs steak and champagne. Am I right?

Tell me, did you ever ride a bear into a meeting with your interluctors? I can highly recommend it, maybe they will start speaking the truth to you then..

Senor Cohen

You seem a little bit miserable.  As my cobbler father used to say, "voltea tu ceño al revés".  When a muchacho is fighting for his life against the massed forces of his enemies then he has to be aware of oportunidades that don't always seem honourable to the affected parties.

What is dishonorable about standing up for himself and earning some money to prolong things?  You should play chess senor Cohen, sometimes a pawn needs to be taken to protect the king, no?

JohnMytton - I adore animals, and believe that they should be free to walk the earth as they were intended to do so.  I don't eat meat.  Many of my detractors, insecure in their manliness, believe that this makes me less of a man.  To that, I simply say that my brain is only the most exercised muscle in my brain.  Prior to fracturing my toes, I would doing 50 press-ups in the morning, and then more as the day progressed.

Post toe, I instead listen to this song on my gramophone and do some light improvised dance.  It sets me up well for my day of humility.

Then I do a gratitude list, and start my regime of cleansing.  Then I work out how best to improve the life of those I see in pain, and I see many.

Zapatos_de_Cemento - you speak a lot of sense.  I haven't played chess since I was in prison on Mount Baldy, learning enhanced humility.

Have you considered a job as a journalist? 

Mister Leonard_Cohen, my friend I feel mentally embraced with. I said that the horse was lying in front of the fireplace, not on top of it.

I drink port. I drink many bottles every day, therefore I hardly have to eat. It doesn't affect any muscles, as I feel the brain is an organ , speaking of which.. If the brain is the most exercised muscle in your brain, is it in fact also not the least exercised?

My favourite dog seems drunk, Mister Cohen. Do you like champagne? He does.

Do you dance alone? By yourself? Or do you have pets? What animals roam in your house? I feel you are the zebra type, are you not?

JohnMytton - I must ask that you send me $50,000 per question, so that I can better help those in pain.

I took a vow of sobriety 14 years ago, so no champagne.  However, earlier this year, I had surgery, and grew highly fond of the medication that they gave me.  Since then, I have been on an Opus Morphia - this informs the type of dance that I do.

As for animals, all are welcome.  

Tell me, John, what attracts you to the writing of Leonard_Cohen and did you know my father? 

I wonder what Touch_Of_Evil thinks about all of this?  I have it on good authority that his presence on the Streets could, arguably, lead to him being considered somewhat of a Leader of the Streets.

Or Luna?

Both of them look familiar... 

You can ask anything you like, Mister Cohen. I would like to ask for a tiger as a pet, you must understand why I do.

No, I did not know your father. I have only known the reputation of influential people around this place, like Garou. As you named him, I learned about your father, but I do admit I never heard of him prior to your mentioning.

I don't drink champagne either, but my dogs do. That makes them happy. I am happy that they did not vow sobriety and can be happy.

OK, maybe I asked about your dancing, but I am not interested in the type of dancing you do. Just whether you dance with pets or not. But I understand you prefer to avoid that question. That's fine. I like avoiding myself. I even fled my native country.

I must say that nothing attracts me to your writing, I just like drinking port and riding bears.

Have you ever tried to jump a carriage over a tollgate? I have. I failed.

JohnMytton - son, stop offering me booze.

I'm happy to partake in different skill challenges, but not that one.

How about we try to find the most historically ineffective family leader there's ever been? 

To find the most ineffective leader, we would need to find someone with a perfect memory, in a perfect brain. I am afraid my brain has been damaged too much from the vast amounts of port I drink, yet we do need someone with an organ for a brain, not a muscle.

The problem is, if we think we found the leader that would be last to remember, we would still forget the next, that was even more prone to forget. That makes it complex. At least for me.

Are you sure you don't want a pint of port?

My grandpa always was keen to keep his glass intact, as he could tell my grandma that he was still on his first glass of port.

You know what I think about spectrums? They're to be taken lightly.

Other than liquid spectrums. Maple syrup goes on the "fuck this stupid-ass, too-sticky-ass, shit-coloured-ass, too-much-sugar-having-ass, bitch-ass" side. BUT TEA ON THE OTHER HAND?!?!?!?

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMOTHERFUCKER.

WE ALL UP IN THIS BITCH FOR TEA. THAT'S A SPECTRUM I'D FUCK WITH.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

GIVE IT UP FOR TEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111!!121!"!!!121/123412!!!!!!$1234!$!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!