TipToeTimmy climbed atop a nearby soap box and coughed twice to clear his voice to the crowds of people gathered about the streets, "It gladdens my heart to see the streets alive once more."

Turning for dramatic effect he continued, "It has been the objective of myself and my bloodline to see the streets thriving. Many moons ago the streets felt stale and my bloodline tried our best to breathe some new life into it."

Pausing to take a long pull from his cigar he added, "With the influx of new stories, journalistic posts and many more flavors of creative writing it is time for me to step back into the shadows. I would like to praise all those that post and regularly engage with the streets for you make it what it is."

Stepping back from the soap box he tiptoed back down an alleyway and disappeared into the night. 

"Indeed, TipToeTimmy. I like to think that i was the one responsible for this journalistic boom lately. It all started when i started arguing with a rambling lunatic on a coffee shop. He then decided to pursue and harass me. And launch newspapers with the single objective to gang up and taunt me. Fortunately it didnt work. His kins and most of his friends are mostly all dead. Sad. But from sadness, happiness can grow too."

Gillian then grabs a plate of ravioli, a bottle of whiskey, a pound of coke and a hooker and proceeds to multitask, doing them all at the same time.

"WEE" she yells.

Timmy, your dedication to the Streets with your 36 part soliloquy cannot be underestimated. That level of interaction was inspiring. Whilst Gillian is out here making it all about herself, you're offering praise to all like a gentleman. Bravo. That is the type of behaviour I would expect from a former #1 VIP.

Since Gillian brought it up, I would just like to confirm that contrary to her view, my objectives have absolutely nothing to do with her. You've always been my muse, Tim. Tipping and tapping, this way and that. It is you who has inspired me to become the #1 VIP in the country. I saw you getting all these rewards and thought, 'yes please'. #6? No thanks. I need to be number 1 and here I am, 14 days later, head of the table, all down to you.

Thank you for everything, TipToeTimmy; you will be missed. 

Gillian stares at SaddleFlashing and smirks.

"Did you like my armpits? Theres more where that came from."

She points to her shoeless crocodile feet.

You're easily the toughest person I've ever met, Gil. 

"You must be tough too SaddleFlashing, if your crewleader didn't even bothered taking your hits off. You must be very loved." 

She bursts off laughing.

"I mean, unless you think this brings you fame. Which is pretty lame.

Oh no, I'm certainly not tough. Not even a bodyguard on my payroll. 

Famous? Well I am the #1 VIP newsman but I don't like to make a big deal about it.

Did you mean "even bother to buy your hits off" before you burst off laughing? Tough to understand you with all that ravioli in your mouth, Gil. You should slow down a little. Not quite as slow as you were in publishing mind, maybe just a bit more care and attention to detail though.

All those coke and hookers binges will catch up to you, you know? But you do you, tag me all over town and snort your brains out if that's how you roll. This is just some friendly advice from a #1 to a....oh boy....#6.

"SaddleFlashing, you must know i'm not from around these shores right? I came from a country far, far away from here. But if thats your only shitty reason to mock me, go ahead. I take that as a compliment, as english isn't my first language. I come from a long lineage of mixed witchy greek/african/arabic/irish lineage." Gillian swallows the delicious ravioli and continues "I'm not the one who started screaming your name all over town, you did. And i have proof. Don't start something you can't finish dear." She laughs:

"THIS IS AN INVITATION TO GET THE FUCK OUT IF YOU CAN'T TAKE IT."

You seem angry and I'm not really sure why. I have no idea what shores you're from to be honest. I only know of you at all because I was investigating a mysterious retainer lunch which you were in the middle of. It could have been anyone, it just happened to be you smashing midday seafood and Chardonnays. We all came to America from somewhere, but good to know about your lineage though, thank you for sharing. I thought it was all the coke, whiskey and lobster ravioli you were pounding that made you difficult to understand, that's all. 

And I haven't tagged you anywhere since because my Don asked me not to and I've moved on to be honest. A #1 and a #6....something not quite right in that sort of mismatch. Not very becoming of a #1 VIP,  really. Plus, you already pulled rank, so what fun is there still to be had? You're the one dragging me back here pointing at your feet and casting aspersions about my value. I was only out here originally to pay homage to Tommy, my muse, then I took my leave.

I've actually spent too much time out here already and really should get back to HQ and figure out how I can compete with the best tipped and most popular paper in town, the MR Gazette.

"Really? Anyway. Indeed, get back to work, wise guy. You have plenty to do. Lets not hope something happens to you tho, 15mil is a good ammount."

"Which i might reiterate:

Your Crew Leader didn't bother buying out. Sad sad. That shows how much appreciation he has for you."

Those are from yesterday, Gil. I haven't tagged you since I was asked not to, like I said. You are the one desperate for my attention, tag, tag, tag. Tiring me out. The rub from #1 can only help a #6 so far, you know?

Anyway, thank you for your hopes for my wellbeing. $15m is a lot and fortunately nobody has seen fit to try and claim it. I am very concerned about it but so far nobody has tried to harm old SaddleFlashing. Long may it continue.

You've brought a plague with you, @TipToeTommy. These journalists have been haunting my Streets, they've brought me nothing but trouble. I've read the same article in 5 different newspapers. I've read news that's 4 weeks old. I've read news about folks whose public records have already been archived. It ain't right, Typhoid Tommy. 

Ketamine was under the weather. Sneezing and weezing kept her off of the streets for a few days. But some commotion woke her from her comfy bed and she threw open her window to let some cold, fresh in.

Shaking her head as she stiffled a sneeze she wondered, "I heard about this Bob Marley fellow once, he was both boastful and defensive but that sheriff ought to be careful".