Richard Roundtree, otherwise famed as the superhero akin disco-dancing, rage-fueled detective Shaft from the 1970's film series, confirmed our fears about superheroes: they, too, can't escape the grand villain of life more ominously known as Death. Yes, you read that correctly. Roll those tears back in, and let's try not to put on Michael Jackson's 'Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough' on loop this evening. The iconic, ass-kicking actor bid adieu to his 81 years of 'shafting' life on Tuesday, at his fortress in Los Angeles, surrounded by his sidekicks, disguised as family members, his manager Patrick McMinn ultra-verbosely announced to The Hollywood Reporter. "Adios, my amigo," McMinn might as well have stated, pulling all stops to ensure the dramatic flair Roundtree himself was known for, remained. The world was previously, blissfully unaware that our quintessential superhero had been wrestling a battle not with flamboyance but pancreatic cancer. Yes, folks, cancer, that thing which even Kryptonite fears. Sadly, it appears Shaft got no memo on how to obliterate malignant cells using a swift roundhouse kick. "Richard's work and career served as the audacious daylight signal for African American leading men in film," McMinn poetically lamented, probably while photoshopping Shaft's iconic leather coat on an ascendant angel in an influencer-approved photo editing app. Is it surprising that Shaft, whose mighty influence could bring shape to the shadows, has now been engulfed in the greatest shadow of all? Well, yes, if you didn't pick up on the blatant irony, we are surprised. "The impact he had on the industry cannot be overstated," McMinn dramatically declared. While true, one can't help but picture him crying heard, "Who will fill this Shaft-shaped hole in our lives?" Perhaps, only time will tell. Until then, as a libation to the great Shaft – let's groove tonight, for tomorrow, we die. Sincere condolences to the Roundtree family as we impatiently await a Marvel-ous resurrection for our beloved Sleuth.