PrimeWire

Between the first and fifth centuries of the common era, Rome had nearly 100 rulers. And it’s said that only 4 of them died of natural causes. Emperors don’t die. Emperors are murdered.
Tony Soprano is an emperor, or at least he’d like to be. He’s acquired all the necessary attributes: palatial villa, clever wife, genetic successors, a Praetorian Guard (misfits though they may be). He has money, power, ambition, and a taste for both banter and blood.
Over the course of six impeccable seasons watch a man nurture and grow his own psychopathy until everyone he knows has either been encompassed by it or has succumbed to it. I say ‘knows’ and not ‘loves’ because Soprano does not possess the capacity for an emotion as genuine as that. Everything is negotiable. Every table can turn. Sure, he can play the part of a human who loves, who is loyal and maybe even kind. But if you outlive your usefulness, you’re as fair a game as a clay skeet in the sky. And he’ll care about that much for you when he’s broken you.
Follow the emperor. Respect the emperor. Commend him if he ever shows you mercy, but never ever forget what he is.