Geralt stood before the crowd on the streets of Las Vegas, brooding and contemplating his life thus far. He had been in this life a long time now. So long in fact that he could barely remember the face of his long lost lover Yen and their adopted child Cirilla. Since being ejected into this time and place he had scraped by a living in organized crime. At first using his talents for violence as an enforcer, and then an advisor, and then a leader. He had made many new friends, most of them much less irritating than the bard Dandelion, who had somehow managed to join him here in this time. Geralt feared he would never escape that incessant troubadour.

He looked out over the crowd with his yellow eyes at many familiar faces and allowed himself a rare smile. He was proud of his place in this world.

"Good afternoon to you all. I am here to announce my ascension to Godfather of Paradise, Las Vegas per the wishes of GFC Daiquiri and despite the best efforts of BFC Hobbs. It was never my intention for this to happen. I was happy to just stand beside Climax and do my duty to her and the city. Unfortunately, things happen and sometimes they are difficult. The key is to land on your feet and keep moving. We have done that here in Las Vegas. I won't go to in depth here - this is my lines' seventh time assuming the mantle of Godfather, and for the sake of not repeating my ancestor's words I'll keep things brief.

I'd like to take a moment for some special mentions: firstly, to the late twigs, who's faith in me was invaluable as I built my skills over time. The same can be said for Climax, who always believed in me. Treebeard, Wish and Giorgio-Esposito were also integral to my standing with Las Vegas and the country as a whole, and I can not thank them enough. A special shoutout to Clifford the big red dog for coming out of his hobbit hole and assisting me on short notice. And to Gnoch, who heroically took a bullet to ensure that I would be the one to inherit Paradise. One can only imagine what it would look like if he were the godfather now. Probably a lot like Summerlin to be honest. Which segues nicely into my final thanks: to Hobbs, Void, and SpacePole, for keeping things lighthearted and fun in this city. The laughs have been plentiful, and the banter engaging. I don't know where I might be if not for Gerald keeping the heat off my back.

I'd also be remiss if I did not mention my members and colleagues. We only had a short time together before we had to split up, but for those two weeks or so we had the best family in the country. Our coffeeshop never stopped and the RATs crumbled beneath us like feta cheese. This goes out to those who have moved on to pastures anew already as well, like Justice, Cheetara, Mai, and Nexus. Thank you all for your contributions.

I could keep going and mention several friends outside of Las Vegas who have been helpful, but then we may be here all day and as I said I would like to keep this brief if possible. Thank you all.

Now, if you will kindly excuse me, there is a pint of ale calling my name from off yonder."

It had been a busy few days of celebrations for Justice. His former city was at the forefront, with many of his old colleagues receiving well deserved promotions. None made him more proud than his old leader Geralt. Although he had only been under his wing for a short time, what a feathery and comforting wing it had been. Geralt had always found time to explain things to him and guide him through whatever incessant questions he had. There was one question Justice had never dared ask though. Had Geralt ever been checked over for jaundice? Those yellow eyes were a dead giveaway. Justice didn't think the pint of ale would help matters. Raising up his flagon he motioned towards Geralt. 

A fine promotion for a fine man. You have helped me immensely in my journey to leader of Bricktown and head of the movement to keep Detroit crime free. I hope you are blessed with good fortunes and light jail sentences for any crimes committed. In celebration of your ascension, I have set loose many RATs dressed up as monsters for you to go out and slay!

All hail mighty Godfather Geralt, the Witcher King of Paradise!

The streets of Las Vegas were alive with positive vibes. Bands were playing and once again people were cheering. It had been Geralt's turn to fight for his turf in Paradise. Was his turn to battle it out to make his. Without a doubt from anyone, he had succeeded.

As the noise settled down and people went back to celebrating, Daiquiri went over to speak to him.

"Congratulations in securing Paradise, Godfather Geralt. The city is growing. There is a lot of joy and life here. I do pray that it will continue to flourish with the work we all do here. You are an asset to work with! You have an awful lot to be proud of, enjoy it" she said to him, as she picked up a glass and raised it in the air, she shouted, "Hip hip horay, To the Godfather of Paradise!". 

Staggering out of one of the many casinos run by the local mob families business associates, destitute once again after a night of debauchery and ill-advised 'sure thing' bets, Clifford looked at his watch, tossed an almost empty 40oz to the curb, clenched a dubious smelling cigarette - squeezed expertly into a short black cigarette holder - between his teeth and made his way to the corner that Geralt had agreed to announce his latest take-over victory to his fellow Las Vegans Vegasans(?)... Paradisians.

Nodding along sympathetically as the dearly departed listed in Geralt's speech made for a poignant memorandum to fallen friends, Clifford listened intently and joined in the subsequent outpouring of rapturous applause, tears of joy and long stem rose to rain down on the newly crowned Godfather upon the conclusion of his impromtu, yet rousing and heartfelt speech.

Once the crowd had quitened slightly, the cheering had mostly died down and the melee had calmed, Clifford made his way over to his old friend and reached out to shake the hand of the cheesiest Godfather in all of Vegas.

Congratulations Geralt, as your forebears, you have done your line proud and as always - I'm proud to witness it. I have no doubt your reign shall be a long and successful one. Congratulations again, Godfather Geralt!

Rushing to attend the ceremony and festivities Isabella came to a sudden halt. She smiles at the sound of shattering glass and realizes she has arrived at her destination. When it was her time to speak, she raised her glass to salute Geralt.

I must say it feels nice to put work aside and step out to celebrate this day. I must not only commemorate you for your success but also the elegance and humility in your speech. Although my time with you has been short, it has been an absolute fun and wonderful time. I am honored to share this moment with you, and I look forward to many more great times. 

Congratulations Geralt!

There were so many celebrations going on but Mai sure didn’t want to miss this one. Then Don Geralt had invited her off the street and helped her achieve the position she holds now.  Her journals have shown that he and his kin are long with words.  But I remember reading  “Good words are worth much, and cost little."

When she arrived there were quite a few people attending the Witcher Hour. It wasn't long before she was able to catch Godfather Geralt's attention and able to speak with him.  He gave her a warm greeting and after she spoke.

Congratulations on a well deserved position Godfather Geralt.  No doubt Paradise and the city of Las Vegas are in good hands.

I see that your energy might be a little contagious.  It bought my good friend Clifford out of hibernation.  Funny you mention hobbit; they claimed to have invented the art of smoking pipe-weed.  

All joking aside, you are truly appreciated.  Just as our fearless Judge Justice has stated you have always found time to explain things to me also.

I wish you and the district of Paradise continued success.

"Ah, Geraldt, it fills me with joy to see a Godfather rise in the lovely district of Paradise once more. I've been impressed by your resolve to step up up after Climax had taken the decision to relieve herself from the title of Godfather and, though we did not know each other before that moment, it has been a happy acqaintance ever since."

"I'm also rather glad that, despite Hobbs' many claims that I am a monster that needs to be slain and your reputation as a bounty hunter of said monstrosities, I have yet to taste the silver of your blade. I can only hope that this will continue to be so in the future as well and that Hobbs will not be able to tempt you into spilling my blood."

"May Paradise continue to shine bright, and may its business district be free of mysterious igni incidents."

Upon hearin' of the business expansion taking place in Vegas, Paddy stuffs the bag with stacks Pitruzzello wandered a thoroughfare. He was headed kind of sort of a way he'd been told to go, but not really. He just knew it was a celebration within this thing of ours.

He remembered all the journals of his kin as he walked forward, a box of Cuban's stowed under his armpit.

Wearin' nothin' but a sweatervest and black slacks, the barefoot wanderin' got lost again Paddy motherfuckin' Pitruzzello slaps his bare feet against the concrete. The fellow fella's of a featha' could be seen a block away, the celebration had already begun. Better late than never, the young mobster thought to himself. He crosses a street, the SKRRRRRT of a civilian driver backed up with a long car horn could be heard. With a smile on his face the pits of the true ruzzelstreusel fello' gave a middle finger hello.

Paddy wanders up to the man that had given his speech after a few congratulatory messages are said. He simple wiggles his eyebrows with a smile before handin' over the box of Cubans. Acquired through a few messages sent down a few wires of different sorts. He shakes Geralt's hand and then steps back into the crowd.

Pullin' a pouch of weed and some papers out of his sweatervest pocket, Paddy begins to roll a joint. Havin' sat down on a set of stairs nearby made his job a little easier, but he still rolled it over the now opened baggy of weed. With a quick tuck and roll, the joint is complete.

Smoke signals the air that passes by the beatnik mobster.

Geralt was enjoying himself, sipping on est est and listening to his friends congratulate him and also enjoying himself. It was going swimmingly, much better than he expected frankly. He had fully expected some jealous goon to come out and try to spoil things. Sure enough before too long, a small child with a squished face and a corpulent nose came stamping his feet into the proceedings, his cheeks stained from tears and obviously upset that people were having a good time rather than paying attention to him.

"Ah, RoboCop. I'm glad you made it child. It wouldn't be a party without you here to be a hypocrite and cry. It's ironic that you call yourself a historian, and me a liar, when your line routinely comes out here and makes the false claim to being "the youngest acting godfather in history." Which is not only an obvious lie - or maybe you actually believe that but are just ignorant - but also not something to brag about.

Allow me to consult my ancestor's records."

He withdraws a journal from his overcoat and clears his throat before reading the entry.

"The ancestors of mine to reach godfather are as follows:

1. Gohan - Godfather of South Philly
2. Goku - Godfather of South Side
3. Ronin - Godfather Chairman of Philadelphia
4. NathanExplosion - Godfather Chairman of Detroit
5. Wayne - Godfather of South Philly, who then demoted and moved to Detroit and nearly reached godfather a second time within a week. While his time at godfather was brief, reaching the rank still counts, and you can be sure that had he made it to godfather that second time it would have been counted twice.
6. Dagda - Godfather Chairman of New York - I'm sure you remember him well.
7. Myself."

Just to irk you a bit more - since you're always harping about being an "acting" godfather one time in your illustrious history - I also have three additional ancestors who had that role but never reached the rank, further cementing my superiority, at least where your line is concerned."

He smiled as the child sputtered and gasped for air, preparing to rebuttal and make more false statements.

"With no respect, as you know full well I have none for you or your antics - I'm going to have to demand that you apologize not only to me, but to your current crewleader and your previous crewleaders going back as far as necessary, for your continuous lies, failures, and embarrassments on the streets that make their jobs more stressful and difficult. I won't request any of your money, because frankly I don't need it nor wish to dirty myself with it. Good day."

Geralt smiled and nodded along, apparently knowing every word RoboCop was going to say before he said it.

"As I expected. Thanks for coming out buddy. I'm glad my achievements have been more than enough to make you so green, in more ways than one."

With a chuckle he returned to the festivities.

Actually friend, they never killed any of my men, nor my ancestors. They popped a couple of goombas or something, which is all your line has ever been capable of. But yes, your ancestral practice of targeting, extorting, and exploiting new bloodlines is well documented, and it is rather funny that you think it makes you relevant to anyone other than you.

Moving past the failure of the late, not so great Robocop...

Congratulations sir Geralt. I'm most apologetic that I had not come sooner. My father would have probably come late too due to his not so rare disease of inactivitus.

He would have been very proud to see the accomplishment of you achieving such a position within the city. I truly believe that with the death of twigs, Giorgio and the step down of Climax, there is no better people in Las Vegas than you, Hobbs and Dai.

Congratulations again sire.

Hobbs tried to ignore the pool of ripped out wires and circuits blood and focus on what everyone was here for. A celebration of Geralt, Witcher of Las Vegas. Gerald stood near by looking like an eerie ghost like reflection whilst also lacking the fear factor or charm of the original. Mr Geralt was well worthy of the rank and had stepped up when lady Climax stepped down. It was another one of those slightly bittersweet moments where his ascension to the position was in part due to personal tragedy with the death of Gnoch.

As Hobbs reminisced about the good times he heard people take up that God forsaken "Para-Para-Paradise" chant that they loved to do in this district. On this occasion he had to let it go, but Hobbs was reminded of a quote from a man named Hans who was super about those who loved the Cold-playing of the Paradise song. 

Hobbs waited for his turn to speak and stepped forward. He knew Geralt only really liked to say a few words, so Hobbs repeated the words he most liked to use back at him.

"Hmmm." and "Fuck" 

That was it. That's all he had to do. That was all the congratulations Geralt needed.

Hobbs walked away humming to himself the other cool song that Geralt was famous for.

"Been spending most their lives, Witchin' in the Geraltsta's Paradise"