“No way. Not a fucking chance. That’s absolutely ridiculous.”

“I’m telling you man, they’re violent as fuck.”

“Look, I’m a man of the world. I’ve been to California, I’ve seen some things. But no fucking way can a giraffe kick a lions head off.”

“Clean off. At the shoulders.”

“Fuck off.”

“Honestly!”

“Got to be in self defence then? As a last resort or something?”

“No man, they do it maliciously.”

“You’re a fucking idiot Randy…” the man was cut off mid-sentence as something caught his eye. “Looks like we’re on the move. Fall in.”

“I’ll get my giraffe face on.” The man identified as Randy said, as he took his place in the ranks.

Shaking his head, Colin did the same. Don Jon BonJonBovi emerged from the Untitled Project offices in South Philly looking tense. Homelander, his trusted right hand man was at his side, nobody in particular, his faithful butler, trailed slightly behind them. They were deep in discussion. Colin looked around. When he had decided to become a bodyguard for a mob boss he hadn’t expected he would have quite so many work colleagues. You would have thought that the old fella would have wanted to be a bit more inconspicuous when he travelled, but no. Anywhere he went, the centuria would follow. He’d gone for a meal with his wife a few days ago at a lovely little Italian restaurant down town, Colin had had the good fortune to be nearby as nobody in particular had made the reservation.

“Is this Crazy Gino’s?” nobody in particular had said. There was some mumbling on the other end.

“Excellent, I wonder if I could make a reservation for my employer for 8pm tonight please?” Further mumbling followed.

“Perfect! For how many people? Well…two people will be eating.” A little more mumbling. “Well, that’s a fair question. I said it like that because although only two people will be eating, 200 or so other people will be present as well. Hanging around inside and out.”

The mumbling rose to a level in which Colin could now hear the other end of the conversation.

“200 FUCKING PEOPLE!? AND THEY WON’T BE EATING OR DRINKING? JUST TAKING UP SPACE IN OUR TINY LITTLE RESTAURANT??”

“Well yes. But we’ll make it worth your while.”

“YOU’LL FUCKING HAVE TO, BECAUSE NO OTHER FUCKING PATRONS WILL FIT IN THE FUCKING ROOM!”

It had been an uncomfortable couple of hours in the restaurant all things considered, but the boss didn’t notice. And that was the main thing.

Suddenly, shots rang out.

Startled, everyone ran to cover the boss. It was a fucking mess. 200 or so men piled up in front of Don Jon BonJonBovi creating a fleshy barrier protecting him. By the time they’d finished the wall stood 6 feet deep and 28 foot high.

“Did anyone get hit?” Homelander asked, checking the boss first and then himself.

Pealing themselves off one another Colin and the rest bodyguards checked themselves as well. Miraculously no one had been shot. Somehow the bullet had missed everything.

“Tyler? Is that you?” Don Jon BonJonBovi asked nicely.

Sheepishly, TylerDurden, the Godfather of the infamous Durden gang stepped out onto the street.

“Yeah, sorry about that, man.” Tyler said. “I don’t know what came over me. Just the thought of you being able to go home infuriates me for some reason.”

Tyler was an incredible specimen, and whilst shooting wasn’t always his forte, you had to respect his recruitment abilities. He had by far the most well stocked crew in the history of the mafia. He had managed to achieve this, and in Delaware of all places, by introducing a conscription system. At 18 years of age every single Delawarean was conscripted into the ranks of the Durden gang. And people were happy to do it. They offered an incredible payment and pension scheme. But of course they could offer these types of incentives because their mortality rate upon joining the gang was roughly 72 hours.

“Don’t worry about it.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said kindly. “No harm was done. In fact, if you want to come with us I could use a man like you right now?”

“Absolutely!” Tyler said, eager to make up for shooting at him.

“Excellent news! Everyone, get in the cars, we’re going to see the old man in the house.”

Colin, now free of the tangled mess of limbs, made his way into the third car. He never took the first car, or the last car, it just felt safer that way. Somewhere in the middle suited Colin. And it was easy enough to get a seat in the middle…

The 56 car strong convoy pulled out onto the road and, slowly, made it’s way to the old boys mansion.

On arriving the men from the first car leapt out and did a quick check of the surroundings. When everything checked out, they waved the rest of the cars through.

After 12 cars had pulled into the drive way it became clear that the rest of them would have to park on the road and walk up.

Don Jon BonJonBovi exited his vehicle and knocked on the great wooden door. It was rich deep oak, so ornate it felt wrong to knock on it. But that’s what you had to do. Because it was a door.

A man answered.

“Yesh?” It wasn’t clear whether this man was drunk, or was just incredibly old. Judging by the trouble he was having with the door it may have been either.

“I’m here to see Godfather Ward.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said.

“Ish he expecting you?” the man continued.

“I fucking hope so, he called me here.”

Colin watched as the old man wrinkled his forehead.

“Well, come right this way then Mr… shorry I’m not shure I caught your name?”

“Jon, BonJon, Bovi.” Don Jon BonJonBovi replied.

“What a shtrange way of shaying your name… some of your men will have to wait outside. We haven’t got a house big enough to fit that many people including the 200 or so bodyguards the Godfather has.”

“That’s fine, Homelander, Tyler, Colin, follow me.”

Colin was honoured but slightly apprehensive about tagging along with the main group. But this is what he’d signed up for. Well, this and the chicks.

“Jon!” the old man exclaimed as they entered the… what was this room? Colin couldn’t quite tell. “Welcome to my rumpus room! I’ve just had it done up!”

Godfather Daniel Ward stepped forward and kissed Don Jon BonJonBovi on the cheeks.

“It looks… lovely!” Don Jon BonJonBovi looked around the room, focusing on a rack of items. “Are they Burberry scarves?”

“Oh you know it! I’ve hit the big time doing some great deals on ‘private healthcare’, if you know what I mean, semi colon close parenthesis.” The old man leered lecherously.

“I’m not sure I do, but that’s ok… and why didn’t you just wink after tha…never mind.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said kindly, but firmly. “What did you want to talk about?”

The old man sat down. And swilled a brandy glass round that looked like it was filled with a Blue WKD.

“Absolutely, down to business. I’m glad you and I could finally talk. You see, I’m getting too old for the headaches that this business gives me. I should be relaxing, not stressing over the daily disputes I have to put up with. Long story short – I think it’s time I get out of this business. Looking at my options, you seem to be the best suited to replace me. For a small amount of money…enough to make me comfortable, you can take over my operations.” The old man said.

“You can’t be serious?” Don Jon BonJonBovi said. “I mean, I have some money. What sort of number are we talking?”

“$250,000,000.”

Colin was stunned. Everybody was. Even the old mans bodyguards.

“Two hundred and fifty million dollars?! That’s a small amount of money is it?” Don Jon BonJonBovi said incredulously. “I don’t have that kind of money!“

“Oh right. Well I see you can’t come up with the $250,000,000 now, perhaps I overestimated you. Get in touch when you have the money. You are dismissed.”

“You are dismissed?” Don Jon BonJonBovi said incredulously. Colin could see the blood rising in his face. “You fucking old shit. You’ve gone insane.”

“Get out of my fucking sight!”

“Fuck this!” Don Jon BonJonBovi exclaimed, brandishing his gun. Panic radiating from his eyes.

Time slowed as Homelander, Tyler and Colin all pulled their guns.

Don Jon BonJonBovi pulled the trigger hitting Godfather Ward in the shoulder. The old man screamed and quickly downed the rest of his WKD. New life was breathed back into the old man as he dove towards Don Jon BonJonBovi, teeth bared. Before he could narrow the gap Don Jon BonJonBovi got off another shot. The old man went limp and fell to the floor. Blood trickled from the wound in his forehead.

Jarred into action, Homelander, Tyler and Colin all started shooting. Shots rang out.

Out of the corner of his eye Colin could see Don Jon BonJonBovi wrestling with a bodyguard, he must be out of bullets… he had to get over to help his boss, but the room was full of bodies.

“Better men than you have tried to take me out!” Don Jon BonJonBovi shouted as he fought for his life with the bodyguard.

“What an unnecessy thing to say.” The bodyguard replied, punching Don Jon BonJonBovi in the ribs. “I realise we’re fighting for our lives here, but still, have some respect for your fellow man.”

“You’re right, that was unfair.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said, cowed.

“Thank you. That goes a long way. Now, let’s finish this!”

“Deal.”

In one slick motion Don Jon BonJonBovi got onto all fours facing away from the now prone bodyguard and kicked backwards with all his might.

Colin wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it. Don Jon BonJonBovi had kicked the bodyguard with such incredible force that he had managed to kick his head clean off his shoulders. The arc of the now airborne head sent it straight onto the table, landing unceremoniously into a punch bowl.

“Ha! Surfs up!” Tyler shouted.

“I’m not 100% sure that makes sense Tyler, but I appreciate the sentiment.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said kindly. “Let’s get out of here.”

And so they did.

“Well, we’ve made it home safely again.” Don Jon BonJonBovi said, apropos of nothing.

“So what happens now Don Jon BonJonBovi?” Colin said, exiting the vehicle.

“That’s Godfather Jon BonJonBovi, now son.” Homelander said.

“Oh shit, so it is. I’m Godfather now aren’t I?” Godfather Jon BonJonBovi replied. “Make sure we send a Burberry bouquet to the old mans wife won’t you?”

And they all laughed.

Homelander was going around the compound to make sure there was nobody left when he heard a gunshot from upstairs. He rushed through the stairs only to be surprised by what had happened.

"I'm really sorry guys, force of habbit" said Tyler. He really was something else.

"It's just as I said previously, whenever I actually think of home it's you who comes on my mind trying to go home and something else takes over me man. Pretty weird huh?" finished the sentence Tyler. Good thing he had a shitty aim.

"No worries man, just try to be more careful with that piece in the future. We wouldn't want to take some drastic measures now, would we?" said Homelander.

"Anyway, congrats again on your new position Don... Godfather Jon BonJonBovi. Kick some ass man!" shouted Homelander as he was thinking to himself he really needed to find a shorter version to call Jon.