Notes: I wasn't going to do this. It was a one-shot fic...I promised myself that when I wrote it. Now here I am, writing another chapter of this crap...and it's all BlueKnux's fault! DAMN YOUSE!
Standard disclaimer: I don't own GTA3, I wish I did...then I'd be filthy rich and be able to live out my dreams of smashing cars and beating up hookers in real life, rather than on my TV.
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Lazlow's Diary
It was another one of those days. A day I should have stayed in bed. Fuck the listeners...if I would've put an intern on the show that day, they wouldn't have given a rats' ass. I'm just the middleman; I'm there to allow them to do their bitching to the general public. I'll preface this with the guest we had on last week, Reed Tucker. Man, that guy was a pansy. It took every ounce of self-control in my body to not shove one of his beloved carrots up his ass. I get some asshole guests sometimes, but this guy was just too much. After my time with Reed, things had been pretty bleak. We had the usual crap; mothers calling in and bitching about the school system, old ladies whining that the traffic lights are too long...all in all, a normal week.
The day in question is now a Tuesday, and I thought Mondays were bad. I entered the office as normal and grabbed my cup of coffee from some pimple-faced intern who thought he was all-important now that he was upgraded from staple puller to Lazlow's coffee lackey. Poor bastards, they think they're gonna make it big in the radio business some day...I've yet to see one of the little pricks make it past the mailroom. Anyway, back to my story...we never know who's going to be on the show until a few minutes before airtime. Sometimes, we don't even get guests...we make them up. Yeah, you heard me...I've voiced so many of these "guests", if I had a dollar for every one that didn't exist, I wouldn't be doing a damn radio show anymore. So there I was, prepared to make up some bullshit guest who had some screwed up talent or hobby or something. Maybe it would be a man-ho with anal warts who has a monkey fetish...or a disgruntled ex-school bus driver with a porcelain doll collection. I love making up screwed up crap like that, it keeps me from going insane.
Well, I walk into the news booth to find out that we did have a guest that day. Damn, guess my rectally challenged monkey lover would have to wait. When non-descript intern #2 handed me the daily papers, I just about dropped to the floor. A convict! We were having a real, live convict on the show that day! Whatever strings Donald Love pulled to get us this one must have been attached to his wallet, because Liberty City Police NEVER allow prisoners to do media stunts, let alone on public radio.
So there I was, sitting in my cramped little booth at my cheap desk (which now had a slight indentation where that fuckup Reed tried to chop it in half), awaiting the arrival of this convict. I read through the papers again; this guy was originally from New York, sent here to Liberty City on a magazine assignment. What happened between then and his arrest, I would have to get straight from his mouth. As I watched him walk in, the first thing that popped into my head was "fish". This guy had to only weigh about 120 and looked scrawnier than Reed did, and that's pretty damn scrawny. He was dressed in the traditional convict-orange jumpsuit that was about 2 sizes too big for him and he had the look in his eyes. The look of a broken, yet crazy man…one that would probably fall to the floor crying in the fetal position if you flashed a cucumber in his face. He sat in the guest booth rather awkwardly, apparently not comfortable with being in a small space with his guard. I cleared my throat and began the show...this was going to be an interesting one...
Transcript of ChatterBox 106 Segment 03-567A
--------------
[Lazlow] And you're listening to ChatterBox 106, the only show in Liberty City that lets you speak your mind...as long as it doesn't offend anyone or get the station sued. Today's guest is a real live convict from Liberty City Prison. Convict, do you have a name, or just a number *laughs*.
[Brodie] My name is Brodie Ford...and it's not funny.
[L] Sorry man, just trying to bring a little humor in here. So, Brodie, how'd you get put in jail anyway?
[B] This hellhole of a city fucked up my brain, all right? Does anyone in here have a cigarette?
[L] Nope, no smoking in the booth. Now, looking here, it says you were a writer for a high-class travel magazine. You sure don't act like it. Has Liberty City really affected your personality that much?
[B] You don't know the half of it, Lazlow. When I came here 2 months ago, I was a normal man. I liked wearing Ralph Lauren clothing, reading V.C. Andrews novels, and taking walks on the beach.
[L] If that's a normal, call me strange anytime! Continue...
[B] *shoots him a dirty look* Anyway, I was on my first big assignment for this magazine...I had written big pieces before for other publications, but this was my first for this particular one. I was supposed to travel around Liberty City, pick out all the great stuff, and write an article about how it was going to develop into the next NYC or San Francisco by 2003.
[L] Did it ever occur to you that 75% of what goes on in this city, also happens in both of those places?
[B] Yeah, but not to this extent! Anyway, after loosing my way in your Red Light District...
[L] *under breath* That was probably the only thing you lost there...
[B] *dirty look* I made it to the main streets where I had the misfortune of getting into a cab being driven by a man on the run. After the 9MM was removed from my face, I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and all my belongings taken as "evidence".
[L] And if you believe that bullcrap, I've got a bridge to sell you! Keep going...
[B] So I went out to replace my lost clothing, but got mugged in the alley I ducked into while trying to escape a gang shooting...
[L] And on that note, I must announce that the leader of the Diablos, El Burro, has challenged all members of rival gangs to a drag race tomorrow night at the abandoned horse track. Bring your shotguns and leave the kids at home, this one's going to get messy! Back to Brodie's story...
[B] This would go by a lot faster if you'd quit interrupting me.
[L] You really wanna go back to the prison? *points to guard standing by Brodie*
[Guard] *winks at Brodie*
[B] *gulps* Anyway...I went to a nearby cop to report my stolen stuff, and the pig just laughed in my face. Now, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's people making fun of my clothing. Just because I look like a well dressed, respectable member of society...
[L]...who's seen Sleepless in Seattle too many times...
[B] I wish you'd quit doing that, I'm not gay.
[L] No one said you were *coughfudgepackercough*
[B] Excuse you.
[L] Thanks. *snicker*
[B] Just because I dress better than most other people doesn't give them the liberty to make fun of my tastes. Well, this guy just pushed my limit that day I guess, so I grabbed his nightstick and beat him with it.
[L] A COP? You beat a cop with his own nightstick???
[B] Yeah, I told you this city fucked with my head. Once the other cops saw what happened, I ran. The closest means of escape was this pathetic little old lady in a station wagon. I carjacked her and took off. Unfortunately, the crazy bitch stood in the middle of the road to give me the finger and someone took her out. I tell you, those old birds still have some flight left in them, heh heh.
[L] Crude prison humor at its best, right here on ChatterBox!
[B] Driving took me to the docks, where I suddenly realized what I did and broke down. I parked under a bridge and cried.
[L] It takes a big man to cry after assaulting and officer and killing an innocent old lady...
[B] You know what? You're really starting to piss me off, Lazlow. Keep your smart-ass comments to yourself or else I'm gonna-
[Guard] You're gonna what, pretty boy?
[B] *gulps* Nothing...sir...
[L] So, pretty boy *snicker*, continue?
[B] *pissed look* So I'm sitting under the bridge, when this woman knocks on my door and asks if I want company. I was pretty disheveled at this time, so I accepted, not thinking that "company" had different meanings.
[L] And Liberty City is home to one of the best of them! Just call Fernando's New Beginnings to have some "company" of your own! 555-
[B] *coughs* CONTINUING WITH MY STORY...she started undressing me and wouldn't quit forcing herself on me until I shoved her out of the car. Damn, that nightstick got me into a lot of shit.
[L] You beat up the hooker?
[B] Yeah...she had some cash and a handgun on her, not a bad deal.
[L] But come on man, a hooker? That's an honest profession, too, you know! You could've at least gotten some before killing her!
[B] Eh, she wasn't my type.
[L] Yeah, too much chest and not enough ass, huh?
[B] That's it...fuck you Lazlow! Just...fuck you!
[L] Nice comeback. Now I know you don't want to go back to the big scary prison where the hairy inmates will take advantage of your girlish features and wimpy body and make you wish they had never invented communal showers, now do you?
[B] *grimaces* No...
[L] That's right. Now sit down like a good little criminally insane man and finish your story.
[B] I killed her and took the stuff...not thinking about what I was doing or why. She pissed me off, she was dead. Unfortunately, she was the favorite whore of some guy named Joey, and he had two of his thugs following her just to make sure she got to him unharmed. Well, these guys worked for her pimp, Luigi, too...so now I had two mafia assholes on me. They had me tied up and gagged in the back of their trunk and I got taken to Sex Club Seven.
[L] Oh yeah, that place is real nice. This goes out to Trixi down there at the SCS...daddy's coming over tonight!
[B] ...
[L] What?
[B] ...as they took me from the car, I used that moment to knock one of them down and escape, still tied up and shit. I ran off towards the train station where I had arrived, only to get busted by the same fat ass cop that I beat up earlier in the day.
[L] And?
[B] What the fuck do you think? I got taken in, sentenced, and now I'm probably gonna do life for all the fucked up things I had to go through in this godforsaken city!
[L] Hey, we love Liberty City! Where else can you get a hooker for $300, beat her up once you're finished, and get back double your investment?
[B] All you people in this city are fucked up! I wish I had never come here in the first place!
[L] *sarcasm* Yeah, but then you wouldn't have gotten to do this lovely interview with me!
[B] Fuck this interview...I'll take my chances in the showers!
[Guard] Ready to go, pretty boy?
[L] Have fun, sweetheart, you're done here!
[B] FUCK YOU!!
[L] Heh, well...that's it for now on ChatterBox. Stay tuned for the night show where we'll have Georgio the Man-ho!
---------------
End transcript
It wasn't really the show that was fucked up, it was what happened after. I swear, if I ever see the look in his eyes again, I'll scream. He was being escorted (fondled maybe?) by the guard out of the booth when he just snapped. He came running at the divider window and started beating on it like an enraged gorilla. He was screaming something about not being gay and bananas. Meanwhile, I had grabbed my third cup of coffee and didn't pay much attention, until the crazy fuck broke the door down and came running in at me. Coffee and papers went everywhere...the little prick actually had some fight in him. Luckily, he was still weaker that that Reed hippie and I pinned him to the ground. Unfortunately, this must've activated the anti-rape mechanism in his brain and he went completely crazy. He threw me off and ran into my booth, diving under the desk and curling up into a quivering ball. It took the guards a good fifteen minutes to get him out of there and back into the police car outside. He'd hiss and snap at anyone who got close, so they had to bring out the animal tranquilizers.
So, another poor bastard finds his way out of Liberty City. Unfortunately for Brodie, his ticket was in the back of the Shady Oaks Center For the Mentally Unstable van. I think he'll like the nice white jackets better than his old uniform, he didn't look like he liked the color an orange jumpsuit turned his skin.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I'm messed up in the head. But everyone loves Lazlow! Snoogins.
Standard disclaimer: I don't own GTA3, I wish I did...then I'd be filthy rich and be able to live out my dreams of smashing cars and beating up hookers in real life, rather than on my TV.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lazlow's Diary
It was another one of those days. A day I should have stayed in bed. Fuck the listeners...if I would've put an intern on the show that day, they wouldn't have given a rats' ass. I'm just the middleman; I'm there to allow them to do their bitching to the general public. I'll preface this with the guest we had on last week, Reed Tucker. Man, that guy was a pansy. It took every ounce of self-control in my body to not shove one of his beloved carrots up his ass. I get some asshole guests sometimes, but this guy was just too much. After my time with Reed, things had been pretty bleak. We had the usual crap; mothers calling in and bitching about the school system, old ladies whining that the traffic lights are too long...all in all, a normal week.
The day in question is now a Tuesday, and I thought Mondays were bad. I entered the office as normal and grabbed my cup of coffee from some pimple-faced intern who thought he was all-important now that he was upgraded from staple puller to Lazlow's coffee lackey. Poor bastards, they think they're gonna make it big in the radio business some day...I've yet to see one of the little pricks make it past the mailroom. Anyway, back to my story...we never know who's going to be on the show until a few minutes before airtime. Sometimes, we don't even get guests...we make them up. Yeah, you heard me...I've voiced so many of these "guests", if I had a dollar for every one that didn't exist, I wouldn't be doing a damn radio show anymore. So there I was, prepared to make up some bullshit guest who had some screwed up talent or hobby or something. Maybe it would be a man-ho with anal warts who has a monkey fetish...or a disgruntled ex-school bus driver with a porcelain doll collection. I love making up screwed up crap like that, it keeps me from going insane.
Well, I walk into the news booth to find out that we did have a guest that day. Damn, guess my rectally challenged monkey lover would have to wait. When non-descript intern #2 handed me the daily papers, I just about dropped to the floor. A convict! We were having a real, live convict on the show that day! Whatever strings Donald Love pulled to get us this one must have been attached to his wallet, because Liberty City Police NEVER allow prisoners to do media stunts, let alone on public radio.
So there I was, sitting in my cramped little booth at my cheap desk (which now had a slight indentation where that fuckup Reed tried to chop it in half), awaiting the arrival of this convict. I read through the papers again; this guy was originally from New York, sent here to Liberty City on a magazine assignment. What happened between then and his arrest, I would have to get straight from his mouth. As I watched him walk in, the first thing that popped into my head was "fish". This guy had to only weigh about 120 and looked scrawnier than Reed did, and that's pretty damn scrawny. He was dressed in the traditional convict-orange jumpsuit that was about 2 sizes too big for him and he had the look in his eyes. The look of a broken, yet crazy man…one that would probably fall to the floor crying in the fetal position if you flashed a cucumber in his face. He sat in the guest booth rather awkwardly, apparently not comfortable with being in a small space with his guard. I cleared my throat and began the show...this was going to be an interesting one...
Transcript of ChatterBox 106 Segment 03-567A
--------------
[Lazlow] And you're listening to ChatterBox 106, the only show in Liberty City that lets you speak your mind...as long as it doesn't offend anyone or get the station sued. Today's guest is a real live convict from Liberty City Prison. Convict, do you have a name, or just a number *laughs*.
[Brodie] My name is Brodie Ford...and it's not funny.
[L] Sorry man, just trying to bring a little humor in here. So, Brodie, how'd you get put in jail anyway?
[B] This hellhole of a city fucked up my brain, all right? Does anyone in here have a cigarette?
[L] Nope, no smoking in the booth. Now, looking here, it says you were a writer for a high-class travel magazine. You sure don't act like it. Has Liberty City really affected your personality that much?
[B] You don't know the half of it, Lazlow. When I came here 2 months ago, I was a normal man. I liked wearing Ralph Lauren clothing, reading V.C. Andrews novels, and taking walks on the beach.
[L] If that's a normal, call me strange anytime! Continue...
[B] *shoots him a dirty look* Anyway, I was on my first big assignment for this magazine...I had written big pieces before for other publications, but this was my first for this particular one. I was supposed to travel around Liberty City, pick out all the great stuff, and write an article about how it was going to develop into the next NYC or San Francisco by 2003.
[L] Did it ever occur to you that 75% of what goes on in this city, also happens in both of those places?
[B] Yeah, but not to this extent! Anyway, after loosing my way in your Red Light District...
[L] *under breath* That was probably the only thing you lost there...
[B] *dirty look* I made it to the main streets where I had the misfortune of getting into a cab being driven by a man on the run. After the 9MM was removed from my face, I woke up in the hospital with a concussion and all my belongings taken as "evidence".
[L] And if you believe that bullcrap, I've got a bridge to sell you! Keep going...
[B] So I went out to replace my lost clothing, but got mugged in the alley I ducked into while trying to escape a gang shooting...
[L] And on that note, I must announce that the leader of the Diablos, El Burro, has challenged all members of rival gangs to a drag race tomorrow night at the abandoned horse track. Bring your shotguns and leave the kids at home, this one's going to get messy! Back to Brodie's story...
[B] This would go by a lot faster if you'd quit interrupting me.
[L] You really wanna go back to the prison? *points to guard standing by Brodie*
[Guard] *winks at Brodie*
[B] *gulps* Anyway...I went to a nearby cop to report my stolen stuff, and the pig just laughed in my face. Now, if there's one thing I can't stand, it's people making fun of my clothing. Just because I look like a well dressed, respectable member of society...
[L]...who's seen Sleepless in Seattle too many times...
[B] I wish you'd quit doing that, I'm not gay.
[L] No one said you were *coughfudgepackercough*
[B] Excuse you.
[L] Thanks. *snicker*
[B] Just because I dress better than most other people doesn't give them the liberty to make fun of my tastes. Well, this guy just pushed my limit that day I guess, so I grabbed his nightstick and beat him with it.
[L] A COP? You beat a cop with his own nightstick???
[B] Yeah, I told you this city fucked with my head. Once the other cops saw what happened, I ran. The closest means of escape was this pathetic little old lady in a station wagon. I carjacked her and took off. Unfortunately, the crazy bitch stood in the middle of the road to give me the finger and someone took her out. I tell you, those old birds still have some flight left in them, heh heh.
[L] Crude prison humor at its best, right here on ChatterBox!
[B] Driving took me to the docks, where I suddenly realized what I did and broke down. I parked under a bridge and cried.
[L] It takes a big man to cry after assaulting and officer and killing an innocent old lady...
[B] You know what? You're really starting to piss me off, Lazlow. Keep your smart-ass comments to yourself or else I'm gonna-
[Guard] You're gonna what, pretty boy?
[B] *gulps* Nothing...sir...
[L] So, pretty boy *snicker*, continue?
[B] *pissed look* So I'm sitting under the bridge, when this woman knocks on my door and asks if I want company. I was pretty disheveled at this time, so I accepted, not thinking that "company" had different meanings.
[L] And Liberty City is home to one of the best of them! Just call Fernando's New Beginnings to have some "company" of your own! 555-
[B] *coughs* CONTINUING WITH MY STORY...she started undressing me and wouldn't quit forcing herself on me until I shoved her out of the car. Damn, that nightstick got me into a lot of shit.
[L] You beat up the hooker?
[B] Yeah...she had some cash and a handgun on her, not a bad deal.
[L] But come on man, a hooker? That's an honest profession, too, you know! You could've at least gotten some before killing her!
[B] Eh, she wasn't my type.
[L] Yeah, too much chest and not enough ass, huh?
[B] That's it...fuck you Lazlow! Just...fuck you!
[L] Nice comeback. Now I know you don't want to go back to the big scary prison where the hairy inmates will take advantage of your girlish features and wimpy body and make you wish they had never invented communal showers, now do you?
[B] *grimaces* No...
[L] That's right. Now sit down like a good little criminally insane man and finish your story.
[B] I killed her and took the stuff...not thinking about what I was doing or why. She pissed me off, she was dead. Unfortunately, she was the favorite whore of some guy named Joey, and he had two of his thugs following her just to make sure she got to him unharmed. Well, these guys worked for her pimp, Luigi, too...so now I had two mafia assholes on me. They had me tied up and gagged in the back of their trunk and I got taken to Sex Club Seven.
[L] Oh yeah, that place is real nice. This goes out to Trixi down there at the SCS...daddy's coming over tonight!
[B] ...
[L] What?
[B] ...as they took me from the car, I used that moment to knock one of them down and escape, still tied up and shit. I ran off towards the train station where I had arrived, only to get busted by the same fat ass cop that I beat up earlier in the day.
[L] And?
[B] What the fuck do you think? I got taken in, sentenced, and now I'm probably gonna do life for all the fucked up things I had to go through in this godforsaken city!
[L] Hey, we love Liberty City! Where else can you get a hooker for $300, beat her up once you're finished, and get back double your investment?
[B] All you people in this city are fucked up! I wish I had never come here in the first place!
[L] *sarcasm* Yeah, but then you wouldn't have gotten to do this lovely interview with me!
[B] Fuck this interview...I'll take my chances in the showers!
[Guard] Ready to go, pretty boy?
[L] Have fun, sweetheart, you're done here!
[B] FUCK YOU!!
[L] Heh, well...that's it for now on ChatterBox. Stay tuned for the night show where we'll have Georgio the Man-ho!
---------------
End transcript
It wasn't really the show that was fucked up, it was what happened after. I swear, if I ever see the look in his eyes again, I'll scream. He was being escorted (fondled maybe?) by the guard out of the booth when he just snapped. He came running at the divider window and started beating on it like an enraged gorilla. He was screaming something about not being gay and bananas. Meanwhile, I had grabbed my third cup of coffee and didn't pay much attention, until the crazy fuck broke the door down and came running in at me. Coffee and papers went everywhere...the little prick actually had some fight in him. Luckily, he was still weaker that that Reed hippie and I pinned him to the ground. Unfortunately, this must've activated the anti-rape mechanism in his brain and he went completely crazy. He threw me off and ran into my booth, diving under the desk and curling up into a quivering ball. It took the guards a good fifteen minutes to get him out of there and back into the police car outside. He'd hiss and snap at anyone who got close, so they had to bring out the animal tranquilizers.
So, another poor bastard finds his way out of Liberty City. Unfortunately for Brodie, his ticket was in the back of the Shady Oaks Center For the Mentally Unstable van. I think he'll like the nice white jackets better than his old uniform, he didn't look like he liked the color an orange jumpsuit turned his skin.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I'm messed up in the head. But everyone loves Lazlow! Snoogins.