A rushed, frazzled Extos sprints into the streets like a homeless man delivering his final epiphany before giving in to the whispers of the spoon. His plane luggage is being poorly handled by his security detail in the background as it's heaved with little care for its contents into the back of a beat up cab. As he approaches the masses and waves to Hush as he departs for his own HQ, Extos glances back at his notecards one last time before raising his voice among the unwashed masses.

Ladies and gentlemen. A quiet, imposing figure at the very pinnacle of Detroit's underworld has risen to join the ranks of today's Godfathers. A man who has looked death in the eye- stood at the forefront of today's challenges, opportunities, and threats alongside Bosco and...

Extos pauses for a moment. "Fuck, what's his name? That prick I got rid of just a few-"

Uncle! That's his name. And since Wayne's tragic, unforeseen, unwelcome, undeserved, and totally unavoidable death, Detroit has needed a strong set of leaders to guide us to the city's next chapter.

I was chosen at a young age- a tender, delicate age- to lead this district alongside my brother McCreary, and I am proud to announce he will rise from acting Godfather of 12th Street to Godfather of 12th Street. An honor no man could deserve more. Congratulations, my friend.

The Greek Freak arrived on the scene wearing a custom suit afforded to him by the many millions he had procured in the underground basketball circuit he made popular, not to brag. There was not a lot to say at this moment, seeing as how he was an unimportant earner and McCreary held the esteemed rank of Godfather, but a gift seemed to be in order.

"A signed basketball, for you. It has my name on it, so you know it will be worth plenty soon."

With a large smile, he handed over the basketball and then briskly walked away. Good thing he had taken it back from Uncle the night before or else there wouldn't have been a proper gift for such a momentous occasion. 

It had been quite some time since Dagda had come out of his forest sanctuary - the repairs and fortifications he needed to make after the serpent had snuck into his glade were time consuming. When at last he emerged from the trees, his trusty assistant, Turco was waiting for him with bated breath.

"Dagda sir, I wanted to come in and tell you, but the trees refused me entrance! It's McCreary, he's attacked the godfather! Erm...several days ago that is...he's godfather now."

Dagda smiled his most fatherly smile and nodded appreciatively.

"Thank you, Turdco, I will make haste to the concrete jungle to pay my respects."

Dagda arrived, and was shocked to see basically no one had visited the ceremonies. This was most disappointing. The only people here were Extos, GreekFreak, and McCreary himself. Dagda shook his head - this just would not do.

Tapping into the power of Leaping, he concentrated his thoughts and willed the laws of nature to bend for him. There was a loud rushing noise, and a bright flash of light....

Before him now stood several abashed men and a thoroughly disheveled lady, all clearly shocked at their instantaneous relocations. Qui-Gon-Jinn, Brutus, Uncle, mayari, Bosco, Hush, and Odin all looked around, bewildered.

"Shame on you all for not being here sooner. Let it be knownst that I was here before all of you, and was totally not also late to the proceedings to congratulate McCreary on his ascension. Now, listen to my words:

Godfather McCreary, it is to my great pleasure and satisfaction seeing you here now, achieving the ultimate goal in this life - Godfather. It has been a long, hard road for you, among others, and I can say without doubt you truly deserve this. My father spoke only of your unyielding loyalty and absolute dedication to the cause, and I too have seen only positive things from you in my short time here in Detroit. Congratulations!"

The old drunk, Dagda, had been on some kind of trip, probably some kind of mental damage caused by too much alcohol and stuff, where he thought he had mystical powers. And it just got worse - he thought Turco was his assistant. Turco had always been taught to respect his elders, but that was already going too far. It bordered on dementia. Anyway, Turco decided to leave it for another time, as Dagda still had some sense in him and some of what he said was true. In fact, McCreary had earned the respectful title of Godfather, the most weighty title in the mafia hierarchy, whether in America or Sicilia.

When given the chance, Turco hugged McCreary in the best sicilian style, kissing both of the man's cheeks.

"Godfather McCreary", he started to say, "when I first came to America, I honestly didn't know what to expect. All I know is that the sicilians have great respect for you, and over time I could see why. You have proven yourself not only as an extraordinary boss, but a great leader and friend. I feel proud to serve under your command and to be able to call you a friend."

With a firm nod, Turco took a step back. He had said what he wanted to say. Now it was time to let McCreary return to his deserved festivity.

With a long, loud skid and a large plume of smoke, Bosco's large black van screeched to a stop outside the HQ of his business associate, and good friend McCreary. Rushing in the door, still tucking the tails of his shirt into his trousers, Bosco grabs a flute of champagne from the tray of a clearly exhausted waiter, and begins to act as though he'd been there for hours - days even.

Looking at his watch and grimacing slightly at his own tardiness, he goes off in search of the man of the hour whilst also trying to avoid the burning glare of Dagda, who was still miffed at Bosco's delayed arrival - so much so that his signature smokey aura had adopted a slight red tinge.

Tapping his glass and standing on a nearby table, Bosco hushes the remaining throng of people.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for my tardiness. It's unforgiveable on an occasion as grand as this. McCreary ascending to the lofty position of Godfather marks a very special day for all of us here in Motor City. It's a very well deserved promotion, and one I'm honoured to have been alongside him for. I've no doubt he will continue to improve Detroit, and I wish you a long and successful reign, Godfather McCreary."

Raising his glass towards McCreary, Bosco proposes a toast:

"To the Godfather of 12th Street! Salute!"

Slightly tipsy from the consumption of free alcohol from an earlier party of Bosco reaching Godfather status of Detroit,  seemed the city was buzzing of yet another party and Godfather on 12th, upon her travels grabbing a pizza slice towards the next celebration hall to absorb some of the boozey liquid she ingested.

swaying slightly upon entering the establishment, smoothing out her navy pin striped dress suit, waiting for a golden opportunity to congratulate @McCreary, a bottle of top shelf whiskey imported from Scotland if memory served her right.

Scooping her hair to the side as she smiled warmly upon approaching the Godfather bowing her head in respect "I hear congratulations are in order Godfather McCreary what a pleasure to see you take the title, I wish you all the best, you have worked your butt off..." handing the gent a bottle of whiskey before taking her leave in search of some food.... and more alcohol with friends she had not seen for awhile.

"Special delivery! Special delivery for a Mister McCreary!" said the mailman as he thrust a small package into the hands of one of McCreary's men.

The associate raced up Mutiny's HQ to the second floor and knocked on the big boss' door. A loud yeah was heard by the associate so he entered to find McCreary drinking and looking out over his domain.

"Sir the mail just dropped this off for you. Says it's from an Uncle?" said the associate as he handed off the package and swiftly exited the room.

McCreary stared at the box for a while before letting out a sigh and cutting open the box at the seams. What kind of fuck shit did Uncle just send me he asked himself.

Well, well, well if it isn't McCreary,

Let me start off by saying that if the letter arrives late then it is not my fault. I penned it eons ago. It must be the fault of the damn postal service. It has become my mortal enemy. Disregard that first part if this arrived on time though. Anyways, I just need you to know that you've done us all proud with what you've achieved and I look forward to witnessing what else you can achieve with your time as Godfather of 12th. Along with this letter I have sent a small gift, it is a ceremonial knife carved by the people that worship me. You can use it to pop the ball given to you by the freak. xoxoxo

-Uncle

Mayari poked her head into McCreary's headquarters, checking to see if anybody was there. As she walked further inside, she spotted many familiar faces, her former crewmates deeply embroiled in whatever task they were doing. It was nice to see people being hard workers -- she'd been with Uncle's lazy ass for so long that it was an unfamiliar but welcome sight. After a few chats with some of her old colleagues, she made her way towards the big boss' office, pausing outside his door to check if the contents of the paperbag she was toting around were still intact.

"Hello, Godfather McCreary," Mayari greeted respectfully as she closed the heavy door behind her. "Sorry to bother you and more importantly, sorry that I'm so late in sending my congratulations. I've just been busy traveling the world trying to find a cure for Uncle's deteriorating health -- other than his lumbago, I'm afraid his mind is going too. Sometimes he says the phrase among us repeatedly and starts bawling... I'm growing more and more concerned..." the girl trailed off with a sad look on her face. 

"But I'm not here to discuss my crew leader's creeping dementia, I'm here for you," Mayari said in an upbeat voice, perking up after remembering why she visited the Mutiny HQ. "Congratulations on godfather! You deserve it so much -- I have no doubts you'll build an amazing district and mould 12th Street in your image."

Mayari handed him the paper bag before turning towards the door to leave. "It's not much, most of it I just stole from Dagda when he wasn't looking, but I did get the cake personalised. Hope you enjoy it!" Looking inside, you find a half empty box of cigarettes, a bottle of water, and a cake with a lovely picture on top.