Congratulations Birthday Girl!

You’re an eight year old girl and today’s your birthday.

You’re going to get the works today, let me tell you. You’re going to get a pony and a clown and all that shit that we understand little girls like but have never cared enough to actually check if you really do. You’ll get presents, most of which we assume are trendy dolls or maybe i-Pads. As we mentioned earlier, we don’t keep up with little girl shit.

It’s going to be great, or so we understand, right up until a black Mercedes pulls up outside your house. The window will roll down and a mountain of a man will slip out of the window holding a gun. He’ll point it at your father and shout “This is what happens when you turn state!”

Then he’ll shoot your dad with like, a dozen bullets. You’ll scream:

“No! Daddy!”

But the sound of fireworks in the surrounding neighborhood will drown out both your cries and the gunfire.

It is on this day that you’ll swear your non-sensical twin oaths: to destroy America and to destroy organized crime in America. You’ll make it to about twenty percent on one and fifty percent on the other, but that’s a story for another day.

Congratulations Birthday Girl!