Sonny is an ace shooter. Give him a weekend, a sturdy joystick and a case of Diet Doctor Pepper and he’ll master any first person shooter game, no matter how daunting, clever or elusive. Embarking on his Freshman year of college, Sonny is no longer particularly proud of this singular and let’s face it fairly useless talent. He secretly suspects that he was doomed the day he was born, when his father raised him up above the other newborns in the nursery and announced that he was naming his first born after the eldest Corleone. Sonny is aware that he’s sacrificing his razor sharp reflexes for a higher calling, becoming an adult. He’s already bracing himself for the upcoming conflict – the release of Call of Duty in November vs. his physics midterm. He’s read about Odysseus tying himself to the mast while urging his men to plug up their ears to deafen the alluring call of the sirens. And while that’s a useful image, he’s unsure what the modern equivalent would be. Camping out in the girl’s dorm maybe?