"Let me tell, youse guys, it ain't easy being a freakin' gangster game. One minute you're riding high on the power of a cultural zeitgeist, the next you're lying face down in a bargain bucket in some two-bit games shop with nothing but a 'Buy 2 Get 1 Free' tag to identify you. Sometimes that's the least of your freakin' problems. Like what happened to my old pal Joey 'The Getaway' Pompeii. After they'd massacred him in the press, the boys opened him up and gutted his freakin' manual. They had to bury him at the back of the second-hand rack. Those godless sons of painted freakin' ladies."
Made Man, as if you hadn't guessed already, is a Mafia game. It's also a game that, given the amount of half-stirred influences chucked into its simmering cauldron, should have come packaged with a large wooden spoon to stir it properly. These chunks of inspiration aren't, for instance, the sublimely metered concerns of respect and revenge that make up The Godfather (the film not the disappointing game). Hell, no. They're the banal under-cooked, over-excessive cliches of Tarantino and Scorcese-esque violence, with none of the ugly beauty or directorial intelligence of either.
"I'll tell youse a little bit about myself. I'm a freakin' soldier for the Giocomedio family, working in the shadow of my elders, Johnny 'The Headhunter' Gazpacho and Frankie 'The Dead To Rights' Sekonda. Together we're running this huge scam, profiteering from the exploitation of people's expectations. See, people are so freakin' in love of our cheap knockoffs of ultraviolence that they'll turn a freakin' blind eye to the actual quality of the merchandise. That's why we've gotten away with it for so long, no matter how the freakin' authorities react to it. And if someone should freakin' complain, let me freakin' tell you, they'll soon be sitting on the bottom of the riverbed in a pair of concrete press quotes."