My father ran a bakery on 35th and Main. When the draft came through, he took up his arms and fought. My pa charged the enemy with all intentions for a better life for his family, his country, and his nation. He crawled through barbed-wire, trudged through the littered remains of his fallen brothers in arms. My father wanted only the best for himself and our country. He only wanted the right thing. And when the world lost him, we lost more than a man. We lost the greatest father I could've ever imagined, the most generous businessman known to the Bronx, and the kindest soul east of the Mississippi. My father died believing that after all the hardships and all the torment he'd been through, he'd make a better world for us all. He did what no other man could. And I think the world of him. But look at you. You disgust me. You have the nerve and the guile to impend upon the very rights that my father died to uphold. You disgrace his name. And not just him, but every soldier who's ever fought to protect their nation, and every patriot who's looked out from a mountain in awe, and every mother raising her kids in hopes of a better life. You bring shame on them all. The honor that every father has passed down to his children and them, to their children, has been wasted on you. You not only fight against our rights, you fight our very beliefs. And let me tell you something pal. I do not take kindly to such threats. Me and my boys, we'll be looking for ya. You can laugh this off as just another aimless threat that you repeatedly find on the world wide web. But today, son, you crossed a line, and that line has determined a lot more than what you do in the next half hour. This is life or death baby. The boys are back in town and Frankie and I'll have a little treat for you. Kiss whatever few people love you good bye, because we're moving. We're heading out. And we ain't coming for a simple game of Uno. Nah, we ain't about that pal. This is real Monopoly.
Do not call the Police. they can't help you now.
- Big Sal