Anthony Soprano, a curiously lovable, charismatic, yet lethal and ruthless organised crime figure begins his day as he does most days: weighed down with the twin weights of his luxuriously textured dressing gown (or "house-coat" as it's known in Liverpool, England) and with the sure and certain knowledge that his life is futile, and that his distant relatives, the Lennons (of Liverpool, England) were far more important, productive and successful.

Still, muses Anthony Soprano, it isn't a bad life.  He has a nice house, an attractive wife, and a supportive Priest.  Yet, for all that, Anthony Soprano is still angry.  Very angry.  He walks out of a pork store which has somehow survived decades of modernity and the corporate destruction of small businesses, and with them the very soul of towns and cities, and begins to address the gathered crowd...

Ho!  Bada bing!  So, John, Sean, and Julian Lennon were like fuckin' family to me.  Because they were fuckin' family, capishe?  And nothing for nothing, but what the fuck?  Fuckin' DocHoliday offers ScentedCandle a fuckin' job then leaves him for dead?

It's been a long, hard journey from Liverpool, England to New Jersey, USA, and the link with the Lennons ain't half obvious, but Marone, why the fuck did a gaggle of musicians get wacked?

Well, nothing for nothing, but:

"We’re soldiers. Soldiers don’t go to hell. It’s war. Soldiers kill other soldiers. We’re in a situation where everyone involved knows the stakes and if you are going to accept those stakes, you’ve got to do certain things. It’s business.”

Ain't that the truth.  And with that in mind, what can I say about LittleCarmine?  Well, to quote my wife Carmela:

"More is lost by indecision than by wrong decision.”

More truth.  And speaking of the truth, my nephew had this to say:

“Other people’s definitions of you, sometimes they’re more about making themselves feel better. You gotta define yourself.”

But he was whackadoo most of the time, so what does he know?

My uncle, now, he has some things to say about all of this as well:

“Some people are so far behind in a race that they actually believe they’re leading.”

Now, my uncle used to be a boss, but he don't have the skills and aptitude, a bit like the upper structure tasked with LittleCarmine.  I said this to him:

“All due respect, you got no fuckin' idea what it’s like to be Number One. Every decision you make affects every facet of every other f—g thing. It’s too much to deal with almost. And in the end you’re completely alone with it all.”

He came back and said to me:

"You steer the ship the best way you know. Sometimes it’s smooth. Sometimes you hit the rocks. In the meantime, you find your pleasures where you can.”

Now, this is closer to why I shot LittleCarmine.  And in the end, all I think is the following:

 “It’s good to be in something from the ground floor. I came too late for that and I know. But lately, I’m getting the feeling that I came in at the end. The best is over.”

So that's why I killed LittleCarmine.  And that his boss killed my father, and most of my Liverpudlian family.

"Now, whatever happened to your brother Billy"

RIP LittleCarmine.

I know that everyone's eyes are on the snowball contest (haha, joking, what a waste of time and energy that inane spectacle is), but we should take some time out to think about what is really going on.

We aren't in a war.  There isn't a writing competition on.  When will the writers, reporters and musicians of this world be allowed to ply their trade without being mercilessly murdered, mafiosa's?

Sammy heard a rumor on the street as to what happened to Little Carmine and followed it up..

Finding it leading back to "Tony_Soprano" he decided to come say a word after the mans rant.

"Well, for starters John was killed for attacking other members of our society without passing it up the chain. Julian, a descendant of the same lineage admitted to the sins of the father. Your narrative paints the dead in a light of innocence which is entirely false. The lack of credibility in that single statement believes nothing you have said carries any merit."

SammySoul - I notice you didn't want to pay homage to the departed?  Maybe you'll disrespect his funeral too?

Your lineage and mine have worked well over the years, so it is with no small amount of sadness that I must dress you down.

"The lack of credibility in that single statement believes nothing you have said carries any merit."

Son, that's a grammatical clusterbomb of stupidity.  I literally don't even know what you mean.

The Lennon's were hounded, and dispensed Instant Karma.  Are you going to condemn them for that?

And the "leaders" that took them in and murdered them, is that how you do business?

PS - you still owe me $43m

Tony, I can not even begin to state how pointless this interaction is and the lack of care I put into my previous statements are a fair representation of that.

I haven't a single clue as to why you are assuming I owe you anything. I have not once done business with you to my knowledge, regardless please feel free to reach out for clarity if you think I am mistaken.

In regards to "leaders" that gun down members of their own crew I think it is fair to say that sometimes we as leaders have to remove individuals that disrespect the halls of our HQ's.

 

SammySoul - the betrayal of our confidences left one of your gangsters dead.

You would do well to take caution in your tone.  

For too long, the Liverpudlians have been tormented by murderers.  

No more.  

Speaking of jokes like the Lennon family, I've got a joke for you Asshole,

"What has a member of the Kuku lineage and the Quinsigamond Ave treatmentplant got in common? They're both full of shit! I thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week, unlike anyone from the kuku line

I actually found that joke quite humorous, thank you Lincoln_Lawyer.

I appreciate all you do in the streets.

Although.. What is that man doing? GLASGOW seems to be speaking to himself and walking in circles. Quite strange.

Lost your sense of humour Glassjaw? Actually don't bother trying to answer, theres enough shit in the streets already without your coprophiliac antics. As for respect, you haven't earned any, and whilst I do have the utmost respect for your CL, we had a good old chat earlier, I have more respect for the Commissar than I could ever have for you, at least he was mildly entertaining while he was defrauding cityhall with his cheating. 

Why don't you just crawl back into the hole you climbed out off, or should that the abortion bucket you climbed out off. When a member of your family finally learns the meaning of the word respect instead of teying to use it as some pathetic shield, perhaps then they may receive 1 iota of respect in return. I look forward to gracing your funeral... 

Glasgow, talk like what, boy? 

Now, now, Glasgow. Why don't we just leave darts out of this, ok? We don't want anyone to find out if anyone became more mad than Hitler over here. 

"RIP. I enjoyed our conversation," Bacon whispered aloud as he proceeded to disappear into the shadows.