Patience
Leopold always considered himself a pretty patient person; he could wait his turn in line and wait for the bell to ring before packing up his things and wait in his room until his parents ungrounded him for the umpteenth time. He could even wait the whole twelve months to open his Christmas presents, unlike some kids who searched for their presents and unwrapped them to peek inside and then rewrapped them and acted like nothing happened. Those were the impatient kids, but not him, he didn't want to
get grounded
disappoint his parents, so he just sat tight and waited like a good kid. Or at least he could.
Then Kenny McCormick showed up.
Kenny was like a special present, the kind that was wrapped up in three layers of wrapping paper and hidden on the highest shelf in the back of your parents' closet. Leopold watched him sometimes, waiting to catch a glimpse of his face. He had always been curious to see what the boy looked like, he had known him since they were kids after all and wasn't it a little strange? So he waited. And waited. And waited. It's been close to ten years now.
Kenny never takes off his hood
never ever ever
and Leopold doesn't think he can wait forever.
He's getting impatient.