Today was just a normal day.
I woke up on my couch watching the television program I always watch. Don't ask me the name of it. I have no idea what the fuck it's called. It's television. You watch it because you've got nothing else to do. You can't be bothered to actually know what you're watching. Anyway.
I made my way to the bottom floor of my penthouse to put on some clothes and take a shower. Not in that order, of course. That would be ludicrous. As I stood in the shower washing my armpits on a constant loop, I thought about what I wanted to do today. Ever since I moved to the city, I hadn't done a single thing that a normal citizen would do, except maybe get a haircut. My days were usually pretty wild and violent, so I figured today would be just like that. After getting out of the shower, I threw on a black and white leather jacket and my steel superior sunglasses and made my way to my garage. Why was I wearing a leather jacket in the summer? Because fuck you, that's why. I look like a badass in my jacket, and the heat never really bothered me in the city.
In no time at all, I was out on the street in my metallic purple Osiris. I had fashioned it after the Joker's car from the new Suicide Squad trailer. In any other context, the purple and pink color combination would look ridiculous, but in this context, it looked dope as shit. I drove down the road and flipped on the radio. Rap music filled my ears. Yeah, I was a badass. I looked at my GPS and saw white dots fill the screen. Oh yes, today was definitely going to be eventful. I haven't done anything yet, I thought after about thirty seconds of driving at speeds up to 100 mph. Let's fix that.
Without warning, I yanked up on my handbrake and my car went into a sideswipe that nearly clipped a woman on the sidewalk who was preoccupied with her smartphone. Damnit. I was aiming for her. The purple car in her path woke her up from her technological mental slumber pretty quickly, and she started running away. Not today, chica. I then hopped out of my Osiris, and thinking that I'd make this a clean kill, I whipped out my silenced pistol and aimed for the woman's head. Before I could take the shot, I heard a helicopter whirring in the distance. Whoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoopwhoop. Something wasn't right. I hadn't even killed anyone yet. My eyes widened as I realized what was happening.
"Shit," I said audibly as I ran back into my car. I looked at my GPS once more, and my suspicions were confirmed. A rotating white plus sign was moving towards me quickly. Someone was trying to kill me. My tires spun out with a loud screech as I slammed my foot down on the gas and high-tailed it down the road, zigzagging along the way. I couldn't tell how close the chopper was, but judging by the sound, he was close as hell. Suddenly, machine gun fire filled the streets. I continued swerving by cars, weaving my way in and out of traffic to avoid the rainstorm of bullets behind me. I had to think of something quick, or else this helicopter was gonna fuck me up with its homing missiles.
I looked at every street corner on radar to try and find an alley to escape down, but to no avail. Finally, the chopper's blip on the radar fell inches behind mine as I quickly approached a bridge. In a split second, a terrible thought popped into my head. No, I told myself, There's no way I'd live. However, the window of opportunity was closing, and if I didn't accidentally fuck myself up, that chopper definitely would. So I went for it. At the last possible minute, I pulled up on the hand brake, sliding into a skid across the bridge. I opened the passenger side door and flung myself out of the car.
You see, long ago, some asshole had fired a rocket or detonated a sticky bomb or did something with explosives to blow up part of the barrier on the bridge, leaving a gap wide enough for a car to drive through and into the harbor below. Or in this case: it left enough space for me to perfectly time an ejection maneuver to land in the harbor below. I had tried it several times before, but I had never made it. As I threw myself out of my car, I felt two waves of relief. The first was the warm wave of air as I fell through the sky, knowing that I hadn't dove head first into solid concrete. The second wave of relief was cold, and a bit painful: the water. I got water up my nose, which was a pain, but I soon resurfaced and made my way to the dock. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew what it meant. While I was dicking around underwater, that asshole in the chopper managed to blow up my Osiris. At least I had insurance!
I wasn't out of trouble yet. I still had to deal with that chopper. Once I pulled myself up onto the dock, I whipped out my own personal homing missile launcher. Yeah, I had a homing missile launcher on me. Actually, I had a whole arsenal of weapons on me. I had enough weapons on me to stage a one-man revolt against the entirety of North Korea (and have a fighting chance, too). How'd I store all of it on my skinny-ass person? I don't know. Let's say technology. I waited patiently to hear the whirring of the chopper return. I then took aim, and my launcher began to beep, indicating that I had locked on. Bye Felicia. I fired. Direct hit.
In celebration, I put away my rocket launcher and pushed both my middle fingers into the air, following the debris of the helicopter as it fell all the way down into the harbor. But my actions were not without consequence. Sirens blared in the distance, and I looked on my radar to see two silver stars fill the screen. The cops were onto me, and would kill me if they got the chance. I guess that's what you get for defending yourself in this town. And so, I ran like hell back to the road. In no time, I had run in front of a car rolling down the street and whipped out my pistol. I shot the driver in the head before he could piece together what was happening, threw him out of his silver Bravado, and drove down the street away from the police sirens.
It's like I said before: today was just a normal day in Los Santos.