Upon exiting the slums where Cameron Coleman lived, Starlight was greeted by a short man with split hooks for hands and horrifying burn scars all over his face that afternoon. It was that same man on the TV set, one of the God Emperor of Europe's first victims upon busting out of Mount Tabor years before Annie was even born. Not a God. That would be giving that inhuman, genocidal monster way too much credit than he deserved. Subject H14, the name the Israeli's gave him when they abducted him at the age of six and subjected him to the kinds of routine stress tests that all other supes had undergone, was little more than a monstrous, vindictive lab rat. The Master of Europe was not special, just a tropey hollywood villain with a sob story brought to life.
"Here's a backup file that that slippery Teutonic, shikza slut had just nicked while you and Homelander were bickering like the old retirees in Congress," said Diamond, proffering a dossier with his two mechanical hooks for hands.
"You see what he robbed me of? Women universally look at me like I'm a disgusting monster, while that Aryan slime is still living the high life, snorting cocaine between a blonde shikza whore's cleavage, no doubt. You know, I cannot even fantasize about women after Nolan crushed my hands. That is the filth's Gentile name, by the way. I could not even watch the videos Gary Glitter, Jared Fogle, and Jimmy Saville to my online spank bank," cried Abram, or rather, the closest thing to crying as the tear ducts in both of his eyes have been reduced to ash.
Stormfront then approached Abram with a contemptuous look on her face, her skin crawling as she knew who those people Diamond mentioned to Starlight were. Likewise, she was shocked at Starlight's middle class naivety.
"Ugh, Starlight," interjected Stormfront nervously.
"Yes Stormfront," groaned Starlight, annoyed with Stormfront's obvious contempt for this poor soul.
"You do realize he is a pedophile, right?," remarked Stormfront with a forced, nervous smile.
"All those people he mentioned were convicted for sexual acts pertaining to minors, right?"
"Newsflash, Stormfront: pedophilia can be forgiven compared to FUCKING GENOCIDE," yelled Starlight, her eyes wide with shock and horror at Stormfront's obvious deflection
"Yeah, shut your fucking cock hole, cow!" snarled Abram in a rage.
"You are really the type of degenerate whore to take advantage of a man when he's at his lowest. As soon as your husband died from that polonium, you jumped on Arthur's big, stupid schmeckle, did you fucking shikza whore, fucking everything that is tall and blonde with reckless abandon? Oh, didn't they tell you, Frederick Vaught died of cancer caused by acute radiation syndrome. You should really consider the fact that even if you are invulnerable to most conventional weapons in existence, the people you care about, with a few exceptions, are not. Your victim can still get revenge on the soft targets, Nazi bitch" boasted Abram.
Stormfront looked on at Abram with anger. By the scary look on her face, she wanted to rip Abram limb from limb for what he supposedly done. Then she took a long, deep breath and her face returned to normal, back to that same forced, nervous smile.
"Frederick what… I was born in 1997. I am way younger than that genocidal maniac from Europe whom you kidnapped because of your tiny hate boner for Pierce. Since your women love to have everything half off, including the cock, you have the smallest. Oh, and the wife's the boss where your from, as your religion is matriarchal. Even with a human-like face, you were a hideous circus freak, Abram. Aside from your hands, what was there to mourn?" said Stormfront in a very derisive manner.
"Yeah, I know the Stormfront persona is to hide the fact that you have committed a number of brutal racially motivated murders against Jews and colored people in the 1950s to 1970s. Post civil rights era Vaught just could not have a racist superhero anymore; thus, they used the fact that Liberty was impregnated by the writer of The Turner Diaries, billionaire industrialist Arthur Pierce, as a reasonable pretext for an indefinite sabbatical. The Stormfront persona was there to mask her past and the egregious fact she's a nazi. Even Pierce is immortal, too, but he uses it to scam the baby boomers out of their retirement funds with his patented creams," replied Abram in a very unconvinced manner.
"Ugh, Pierce generally dates blondes and redheads with hourglass, porn star bodies, which was why Maeve so easily seduced him. He's like a blonde, green eyed James Bond. He looks nothing like the God Emperor of Europe, who looks like a very young Rutger Hauer. I have dark hair and dark eyes, which are both very dominant genes, meaning he would look like Adam fucking Driver, not Rutger Hauer.," responded Stormfront with a nervous smile.
"As if the gothic hair style and black hair dye are real. You have reddish brown hair naturally. I remember. You tormented me in the camps, bitch. Oh, and wouldn't a Nazi feel a sense of pride that their child is a superpowered Nordic? Oh, that's right, the virus in Pierce's bloodstream edits out harmful DNA, intelligently editing out deleterious traits while being born infected with the virus. He could stick it in a woman from Sub-Saharan African and at worst, the child would have curly hair. Unless you have a blonde, Nordic mother and/or father, that birth was a ninety-ten split in DNA," said Abram with a chuckle.
"Thanks to the monster this whore shat out, I cannot have kids anymore. The optical blasts these Aryan monsters produce have the unintended side effect of stripping the electrons off of the atoms they strike, causing a release of two thousand sieverts of deathly radiation. In short, my sperm is no longer viable thanks to that German twat's worthless, Luciferian spawn burning my fucking face. Here's the deal Starlight, beat that Nazi bitch to a pulp and I will give you a billion dollars," proposed Abram, going off on a sad tangent about how it was over for him,
"Geez mellow out, Abram," laughed Stormfront. "You do realize that there are in fact plenty of plastic surgeons in Brazil that can fix your char broiled face lickity split."
"Fucking bitch! I had a hundred fucking surgeries. There's not much they can do when the nerves and muscles in your face are entirely gone. Plastic surgeons, as in the plasticity of flesh, need something to work with in order to fix something. Not a square inch of skin on my face was left intact," shot back Abram.
Stormfront turned to face Starlight.
"I also would not take him up on his optional objective. Fighting a woman who can bench press Passenger jets would not end well for you," interjected Stormfront tersely.
"If Pierce is as powerful as he says, exposing him to the world would also end rather disastrously for you. He will start with the US power substations across each major metropolitan area to cause as much chaos as possible. While the military's struggling to quell the resultant unrest, he will then fly straight to the addresses of the US army generals, slaughter their families, and then repeat with the branches of government," warned Stormfront grimly.
"Ah yes, the threats Arthur Luther Pierce made in the Turner Diaries. I doubt the enclave of White America is going to be California this time around, seeing as how that place has undergone radical demographic changes. Oregon, Montana, and several other states in the Pacific Northwest are what I grimly foresee. Parts of Canada might fall to him, too. He already told terrorists to bomb the UN with C4 explosives on a darknet site called 24Chan. We cannot trace him, but the writing style and thinking pattern matches Arthur to a T. We have war gamed this plan for decades, you arrogant old whore. While he has a four digit IQ, higher than even Sister Sage, his strategies are quite predictable,' stated Diamond calmly.
"It always works when one can nonchalantly fly at the speed of a Saturn V rocket. Strategies change when weapons change. And unless they can develop miniaturized nuclear bombs that produce the temperatures needed to properly burn his flesh, like you mentioned in the news report a few months back, nothing can hurt him," answered Stormfront.
"We'll kill everyone in America and Great Britain to severely injure or kill Captain Albion and your dear son, Klara Risinger. A million gentile lives are worth less to us than the turd we leave in our toilets when we take a shit," boasted Abram Diamond.
Stormfront sneered, then pulled out a smart phone from one of the scarce pockets in her skimpy, tight costume. Dialed a three-letter number from what Starlight heard, and pressed it to her ear with a smile. She gave a toothy, predatory grin to Diamond, then refocused on what she was doing.
"Yeah, I would like to call emergency mental health services. Apparently, this invalid right before me is having a mental breakdown. He's rather suicidal about his condition. Can you send in an ambulance, dear," answered Stormfront with a bad impersonation of a concerned, Midwestern Grandma.
'That fucking bitch' was what Starlight was thinking at the time of the 911 call. She was trying to have the poor victim of Nolan Luther Pierce's racist violence committed to an insane asylum, which would ultimately destroy his credibility completely. That proved Abram right about Stormfront also looking older than she looked, and she was more than likely a remnant of the Reich. Arthur was probably an ancient remnant, too. She believed that Arthur was a supe one-hundred-percent after Abram brought it up, given that Donna, her mother, tried the Jovan cream loads of times and never looked a day younger. Such fucking horse shit. Without that dossier, her word was completely and utterly worthless in the face of the richest, most politically powerful man in the United States as of 2020.
Within minutes, an ambulance raced over to the street the conversation was taking place. A bunch of orderlies clambered out like soldiers deploying for a mission, quickly restraining Diamond while he was looking on at Stormfront, his face contorted with anger. Likewise, Stormfront sadistically smiled at Diamond.
As the orderlies were loading Diamond up into the ambulance, Starlight wanted to blind them with her photokinesis, absorbing the electricity from the electric lampposts above for one gigantic, grand blast. Problem was, there was a supe who was almost as strong as Homelander right next to her, almost as strong as Maeve, actually, but still strong enough to beat Starlight to a pulp with little effort. She even snatched the second, sliding the other one in her belt while using her lightning powers to roast the second copy before it fell into the wrong hands.
"He's right, isn't he? You are an evil Nazi bitch," cried Starlight.
"Prove it, Marxist bitch?" replied Stormfront in disgust.
"You were trying to sell out your own race to a genocidal, monstrous pedophile who rubs it out to children getting tortured because of some communist 'needs of the many' bullshit. You are not even worth my breath," concluded Stormfront in a rage.
Abram awoke a few hours later in a strange facility. The room was dark, built like a nuclear fallout shelter, the walls constructed out of a brutalist, fortification style of reinforced concrete. There was a two-way mirror to his side, shaped in the form of a rectangle. Then there was another mirror suspended on the ceiling by what looked to be a strong, hydraulic armature. On that mirror was a picture of Nolan Luther Pierce as a six-year-old child reading a copy of Shakespeare's Hamlet intently. This brutalist architecture was Arthur Luther Pierce's design.
From the shadow in a dark corner of the room approached Arthur Luther Pierce. He was a lot different than what Abram remembered of him, a charred ghoul-like monstrosity in a burned, tattered superhero costume with Norse symbols embroidered on it. His eyes were not glowing that same reddish white before shooting out high energy particle beams, they were a fine emerald green. For a one hundred- and twenty-two-year-old man, Arthur looked no different than someone who had just started or finished college, not a day over twenty-four or twenty-five. It was like the marks of the ICBM fired at him when he was killing every single Jewish person he ever saw in Israel were gone.
"Looking good for an ancient relic, aren't you Pierce? I can see the ICBM we have lobbed at you left no marks. Even for all your intellect, you were too focused on killing the military. They were not there to win. They were there to keep you occupied so that we could lock on to your position with a high-yield nuclear missile, and, hopefully incapacitate and capture you for study. Not a square inch of your flesh was spared in the star we have dropped on you, and you were still flying, kept alive by your rage," recalled Abram, terrified to see Arthur in his fully reconstituted form.
"That is an easy one. You took my son, doing God knows fucking what to him. When that nuke hit me, all I experienced was a flash of light and a mildly painful ringing in my ears that quickly subsided. I felt no pain only rage, rage because I let a bunch of parasitic worms in human form get within one thousand miles of my son without me flying down from above and flaying you alive. I didn't care if you killed me. All I wanted to do was kill as many of your people as I could until your homeland was just a blood-soaked parking lot," recalled Pierce, snarling.
"Once upon a time, I would have let you live in your own country, doing God knows what to your Arab neighbors. That was when I was a man. I am a God who dreamt he was a man, but now the dream is over, and the God is awake. God is real. He hates you and wishes to see you and your vile parasitic race smote from this Earth. Why am I even explaining my motivations to a man who sexually gets off on torturing children?" he said, remembering what he was dealing with.
"Says the Nazi-wannabe shit heel who murders children, very much like his wretched son. Yeah, your so fucking noble," cried Abram,
"True," admitted Pierce coldly. "I have killed the children of my enemies. A person who murders their betters because they were tormented in the fake genocide known as the holohoax deserves to watch their loved ones die before their eyes. Then again, wiping out a future subversive element is more than justified. Parasites kill their host and die or, more ideally, are simply killed by their host's immune response. It is natural law. In those thousands of years war against the black, brown, and yellow races, an arms race started. The subhumans could not challenge the Aryan race militarily, so they devised a different strategy: subversion. Through manipulating the less desirable elements of an Aryan Civilization, a race like the Jews can quickly infiltrate and take over, and ultimately, wipe out the population. That all changed in 1922 with the invention of the gene therapy serum in my system. One White man was now as powerful as millions of men, one man having the combat strength of armies. Best part of this serum is that if a non-White were to be injected with it, they simply died horribly of an autoimmune disease. A rather painful one, indeed."
"Look to your left side, Abram Diamond," directed Arthur.
Abram looked in abject horror to see before him a chainsaw, stained with someone else's blood, a retractable boxcutter, pliers, and a cordless drill. He already wished Stormfront had taken her to the Sage Grove Center right about now. The horrific treatment the patients experience there pales in comparison to St. Martin's Mental Hospital. It was run like a Victorian era mental asylum on the outside, and below, a terrifying microcosm of the Auschwitz Human Experimentation Wing. What was before Abram made the treatment given out by the Nazis seem downright Humane. This was like being tortured by the fucking clergy in the Middle Ages upon being ousted as a heretic.
"So, you don't swallow your fucking tongue, you fucking kike," said Arthur, beginning the first step in his torturous surgeries.
Arthur wrenched Diamond's mouth with his left hand and gripped Abram's tightly with another. With one gentle pull, Arthur ripped out Abram's tongue with one light tug. The sound was a grotesque, wet, snapping noise that could be heard faintly in the room.
"This is for your mutilated micro penis, but we'll get to that later," pointed Arthur with a sadistic smile at the end.
"Eye drops, so you can see the destruction of what's left of your body."
"Oh yes, the Chainsaw. This is so you can feel the most pain imaginable as I saw off your residual limbs, starting at the shoulder and hip areas where the nerves aren't destroyed," grinned Arthur.
"Stormfront! Starlight! Homelander! Anybody! Help!?" yelled Abram in desperation.
"The former handed you to me on a silver platter purely because she could not think of anything cruel enough to do a subhuman kike sicko like you justice," answered Arthur, chainsaw in his right hand.
There was a record player on another wheeled workbench, behind the one with the torture devices. He pressed the play button and a familiar 1980s song came booming out of the speakers all across the room. It was Heuy Lewis and the New's "Hip To Be Square", starting with the first verse 'I used to be a renegade." How fucking original. Not only was Abram being tortured, he had the misfortune of having it done by someone who watched American Psycho one too many times. Ironic that a man with enhanced cognitive abilities cannot think of anything new or original. Abram even betted that he got the chainsaw idea from Dexter's origin story. Come to think of it, if this was the man dunking the collective head of the Jewish people in the toilet, then maybe Arthur deserved to win in that case. That was just sad.
Starlight, meanwhile, was in her apartment, pondering what had just happened between Stormfront and Abram Diamond. She was not one hundred percent certain that Stormfront, her obviously left-wing colleague was a Nazi by any stretch of the imagination. Sure, a trauma victim's statements were unreliable to a degree, often exaggerating the extant of what they had suffered under their tormentors. Stormfront could not have been that man's tormenter and that man was no older than forty years old, though it was rather hard to estimate his age with the horrific plasma burn scarring.
She did one-hundred-percent believe the Israelis when it came to Pierce being a genocidal maniac far worse than the Nazis, but she could not prove it. Stormfront keenly destroyed any evidence that might have pertained to Pierce creating mushroom clouds in Tel Aviv from his supernaturally fast, acausal flight speed. Destroying Tel Aviv was a calculated, tactical move: refocus the enemy's attention rebuilding and preventing their own destruction while Arthur plotted out the killing blow. This was a classic zero-sum strategy. A brilliant man, Starlight could only find one person who even approached Arthur's IQ, and that was Sister Sage. Unfortunately for everyone else, she was a female version of Howard Hughs, which was unfortunate, as Arthur was obviously a serious threat to her long-term survival.
Then again, she seemed more like a misanthropic nihilist who could care less if she woke up one day to find herself the last of her kind. Nihlists who gave up already did not make good recruits.
Her apartment was brightly lit and brightly colored, reflecting Starlight's optimistic Christian, farm girl personality. Everything had a star theme to it, from the art of the room to the décor, quickly redecorated ever since the Lamplighter took an untimely sabbatical from the Seven, ultimately opening up the slot for her last year.
While she was on her couch digging in to a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream, she was flicking through the channels with her free right hand, desperately trying to find something good to watch on the nightly news. There was no good news. There were only portents of doom in the form of insane happenings that, with any hope, would have superheroes brought into the United States military to clear up the mess. There was no glorious smashing of buildings, no supe flying around and lasering people with his heat vision. The desperate people were holding up signs in Arabic.
"These signs were pleas for the government to turn the water back on. However, the water treatment centers and the food distribution centers were all melted to slag by two high energy particle beams the width of Human eyes. It would take years," announced the MSNBC anchor somberly.
Starlight was correct with her guess. No superpowered massacre of the entire military while the mightiest weapons made by man have no effect on him. There were just people slowly starving and dying on the street from shutdown economies. No epic last stand seen in comic books. It was just a few precision strikes at key areas and all the God Emperor had to do was float, watch, and fiddle as the country he struck burned itself to the ground. The people would likely be eating their neighbors in the coming months. It was horror.
"There have been reports of planes, boats and caravans on their way from the orient to Europe getting strafed and destroyed. It usually happens on the coasts where no survivors could be found once eaten by all of the oceanic white-tipped sharks. As for the caravans, there were survivors. Tragically, convection currents from the beams of superheated plasma ignited clothing, flesh, and anything even remotely flammable," announced the News anchor changing the subject to even more depressing news.
The video panned to men, women, and children missing limbs, covered from head to toe in bandages in the various burn wards of third world countries. They could not afford fancy medical equipment like the US and European hospitals had; thus, they all bore a strong resemblance to hospitals from the 1950s, which was far more than could be said for most, like in Sub-Saharan Africa. Starlight wanted to vomit.
H14 was destroying their infrastructure so they can starve to death, killing them when they tried to leave for greener pastures, and ensuring that there were only a few hundred thousand in countries that once had millions or billions. This was siege warfare but on a much grander scale than ever thought possible before. Clever asshole. Starlight always thought of racists as having room temperature IQ, but both H14 and Arthur Luther Pierce had proven terrifying exceptions to this rule.
Annie shuddered to think of what was going to become of those people who had the skills and cunning to survive these hellish conditions. Were they going to be killed? Were they going to be interned in camps, drilling oil for the empire until they died? What was going to happen to them? Complete genocide, with the exception of maybe the Neanderthal, had never happened before in the history of this Earth. There would be some small sliver that continued to survive and reproduce, like the Native Americans of North America.
Starlight had no hope for the future, given the current trajectory the world was heading. Sure, there might be other perks like cheaper goods and services, increased labor value, but everything else was a nightmare. Annie thought humanity had moved passed this behavior when her mom was an infant, but apparently not. Then there was the billionaire novelist, whose prophecies of a race war had all came true by the looks of things. Things were scary. Vought's hands were tied in the matter. Pierce had a considerable investment within the company, and thus considerable control of the company's decision making.
"You know what, this is just the baby boomer equivalent of doomscrolling," muttered Starlight, pressing the speaker on the remote.
"Vought Plus. I want to watch Vought Plus," she bellowed to the voice recognition.
Instead, it directed her to Pornhub, as text to speech technology was still absolutely terrible in its' execution. It was always a decade away from being done, it would seem. She typed in Vought plus on her smart TV, and then typed in the title 'Homelander: Darkest Night' to take her mind off of current events.
Stormfront was on the other side of the two-way mirror, the lyrics of Huey Lewis and the News "Hip To Be Square" booming through the thin glass. Pierce was dancing to the beat of it while dressed in a translucent raincoat, brandishing a heavy, gasoline-powered chainsaw as if it were a sword or a knife with his immense strength. Arthur was getting a sense of joy out of it, the kind of satisfaction one gets when they finally had their revenge.
"We're nothing but cattle to you, you fucking sheeny, huh? Well, you're little more than vermin. As far as I am concerned, I am not killing anyone here. I only killed a few people, and that was in the Somme. Why, even if you were White, the fact that your genetically defective brain was born with the sexual attraction to children means you have to die for that reason alone. It's an ugly business doing one's duty, but to me, it's a real pleasure, smiled Arthur.
With his free left hand, Arthur grabbed Abram on his unscarred right ear and quickly pulled down, tearing it off along with a large chunk of flesh. Abram cried in pain, cursed in Hebrew, but Arthur was completely unfazed, even smiling as he put it in a jar of formaldehyde on the wheeled workbench next to the other bench with the record player. To Stormfront, it was obvious he was adding a piece of Abram to his collection box so he could savor the kill, like so many high value targets before Abram.
Sure, he was a sicko. Compared to Abram, however, Arthur was at least a very useful sicko, a necessary evil so that Western Civilization may survive into the twenty-second century. In contrast, Abram used scientific discovery as an excuse to brutalize a superpowered child until he was a teenager, all the while getting a sick, sexual thrill that his parents were helpless to save him. Now Abram was going to feel very helpless when the chainsaw made contact with his residual limbs.
The loud, whirring rotary blades of the chain saw grinded through the upper thigh of Abram, slowly so as not to quickly slice off his right residual leg. Arthur was grinning, gently lowering the chain saw into the upper portion of Abram's right thigh. What was horror to Abram was a sense of poetic justice to Stormfront, watching, eating a bag of microwave popcorn like it was cinema. She laughed when she imagined Hollywood putting in the melancholic musical sting from Schindler's List in this scene. Of course, they would leave out the part where he molested kids because the jews could not be made to look bad. No, they cannot.
Once the limb was severed, Arthur professionally placed the chainsaw on the workbench next to the record player, and grabbed some bungie cords, swiftly tying it around the ragged stump almost up to Abram's pelvis.
"Can't have you bleeding to death so soon, now can we?" Pierce said in a mock sympathetic tone of voice.
"You are the same… kind of sick fuck," gurgled Abram, his voice barely articulates on account of his missing tongue.
"You would be chopping up prostitutes like Jack the Ripper if it wasn't for dear old daddy injecting you with that virus when you were bedbound after getting hit with that fifteen-centimeter shell."
"Says the freak who fucks children," shot back Arthur with a fake, angry laugh.
"You want to eat your own tallywhacker, you fucking pederast kike? I mean, your whole vile race likes to slurp the foreskins of infants, right?" screamed Arthur in denial of that insinuation.
With those words said, Arthur tore Abram's cock and balls off, leaving a baseball-sized ragged hole where his genitalia once were. Then Arthur pried open Abram's skull-like, lipless mouth, shoving Abram's cock and balls inside. Arthur mashed Abram's jaws open and shut, chewing the genitalia into a crimson slop-like mess fit for pigs.
"Guess you'll be identifying as Abrianna from now on," laughed Pierce.
Arthur continued to bellow out a long laugh before he almost slipped and fell on the pool of front-hole blood at his feet.
"Whoa," chuckled Arthur. "You're getting menstrual blood on my Oxfords, Abrianna."
Stormfront had to admit she was laughing at the display behind the two-way mirror. Normally, she would be sickened by this level of sadism, but when it came to people who preyed upon vulnerable White children, they deserved whatever they got. This was funny. He got mutilated so badly he would have to change his gender identity to the female counterpart of his name. Abram got what he fucking deserved that day.
Arthur revved the chainsaw up again, pulling the cord, starting the loud hum of the engine's pistons. He pressed the button and gently powered the chainsaw on, then leveled it to Abram's left shoulder. A torrent of blood splashed Arthur in the face but he hardly noticed, he was grinning, his face covered in blood. Once the chainsaw had sliced through the limb, Arthur shoved it aside to another point in the room. He did the same to Abram's severed right leg for good measure.
As far as Stormfront could tell, Abram was more than likely dead, killed when his genitals were pulled off. Arthur was not interested in just making him suffer now, he was creating a message out of Abram's mutilated corpse like the Mexican Cartels did to their rival gang members. He wanted the world to know Abram died a horrific death to demoralize the Jewish people.
When the mutilation was done, he put the limbs in heavy duty trash bags, wrapped those same trash bags in duct tape. Abram's head and torso were also thrown in a heavy-duty trash bag, wrapped in duct tape, and set aside severed body parts for a later plan. Stormfront never understood his strategic genius, but it was more than obvious he wanted to taunt the Seven and demoralize Mossad with his little strategy there
All of that was pure guesswork. For all she knew, he was simply collecting them for keep sakes like some people in the Party did back in the day. From the looks of things, however, he was going to pull a Luka Rocca Magnatta based on what she saw. That was either great news or bad news. Great news if successful, bad news if it were a failure. Still, the look on their faces would be priceless if Starlight woke up to Abram's mutilated torso in her bed like that iconic Horse scene in the Godfather.