💀 The Inevitable Dust-Up: Sonny’s Judgment and the Disposable Villain 💀

The rumor that Sonny Corinthos finally disposes of Jenz Sidwell is less a spoiler and more a grim, judgmental certainty in the morally bankrupt ecosystem of Port Charles. Sidwell, the latest in a long, tedious line of interchangeable adversaries—a villain whose primary character trait is being not-Sonny and thus, by the show’s nauseating metric, worse—was always destined for a violent, definitive exit at the hands of the town’s designated anti-hero.

This isn’t drama; it’s a predictable, circular exercise in reaffirming the untouchable status of the Corinthos crime family. Sidwell’s entire existence, from his ludicrous international diamond schemes to his blatant attempts to dismantle Sonny’s empire (a feat he was never truly competent enough to pull off), was merely a plot device. His bombing of Sonny’s penthouse and his various manipulative alliances with characters like Ava Jerome and the compromised District Attorney were all designed for one purpose: to raise the stakes just high enough so that Sonny’s predictable, violent retaliation could be framed as a necessary, even righteous, act of self-defense.

The hypocrisy is staggering. Sidwell is a criminal, a murderer, and a corporate shark who weaponizes mind-control research; he is a monster. Yet, the moment Sonny steps in to execute the sentence, the show will once again conveniently forget that Sonny’s hands are perpetually stained with the blood of dozens of past “Sidwells.” The narrative doesn’t allow for a world where Port Charles rids itself of one mobster without immediately validating the presence of the other. The killing will be spun as protecting his “territory” or his “family,” which, in this show’s cynical worldview, makes it an act of virtue.

Sidwell’s elimination is a cop-out. It’s the writers waving a white flag on a storyline that became too convoluted, proving that it’s easier to simply vaporize the source of the trouble than to explore the messy legal or political consequences his continued presence would force upon the town. Sonny’s hands-on justice is the ultimate judgment tool in Port Charles—a clean, definitive end that clears the stage for the next, equally disposable threat, all while guaranteeing the mobster’s perpetual survival. It’s a stagnant, judgmental cycle, proving once again that in Port Charles, the biggest crime is not being a killer, but being the wrong killer.