I make my way up to the house walking into my sanctuary my office. Some people think I'm a cultural attaché. Hell, I'm might even run for president. I pick up the phone and get the deal done. I look through the blinds. Godfather did it well. I pause. I watch the cartel, they watch me, they're intrigued on how I move. Waiting to strike. No loyalty in this business. I hear a clatter. It's not Santa Claus. I'm feening for a cigar. The bitches are in the living room eating the gelato. Not a worry in the world.