DAY 1: CHAPTER 2:
House Party.
Anyway, the bigger picture was the top - telling others what to do. You did that by getting the big, fat, lazy schmo drunk.
Yes, I didn't like Salvatore. He's a bum who works hard in bed and only in bed. And only with Maria.
The man was on top of the world solely because he had a legacy. I didn't, and I was making my way up. Luigi called me a hitman, and so did Mick. Joey called me a jerk, but that's because I "borrowed" a car.
I only met Salvatore because he needed to set the rules straight about me borrowing cars: I could take any Mafia Sentinel if it helped me do my business or if I needed some wheels, but I could only steal one private car of Joey's.
Joey had back-ups. And if he didn't, he'd buy some from Donald Love. Or atleast he would once the bridge got fixed. I knew it was 8ball and Maria's guy who destroyed the Callahan, but I didn't care. It prevented the Columbian Cartel (or as Joey called 'em, the "Colorado or somethin' Cartel") from getting to the Mafia, which showed some good signs..
Joey was an idiot, too. I'm just glad Luigi and Mick liked me. Who was Mick? Mick was Luigi's best friend, before and after the mob.
Mick got me here. Mick got me in safely. And since I was in with him I was on Luigi's good-side. Luigi was the future, not Salvatore's little Joey. Little Joey. Little Joey's place had an ad that sad "Joey's Autoshop", of which all the gangs in Liberty knew it was Joey Leone.
I hated Joey and loved Luigi. That's when I left for Salvatore's house. There was supposed to be a party there, although I think it just ment that Salvatore would make Maria some love while I went there for some crap-job hitmen job with the man at my side.
Who's the man? Maria's guy. He was the one guy who would get promoted further then me in a shorter amount of time.
So I needed a ride. I saw a Banshee drive right by my apartment (no one owned a house in Liberty). I decided the shiny blue would look good with me.
Bad move.
It was one of those guys on the way to there policemen ball, and I picked the wrong man. I pulled out my nine-millimeter and shot the bullet through his head. It went through his head, so I figured I would give it the Mafia trademark: Three shots to the head. A perfect death. Luckily, the body fell out so the blood didn't ruin the leather.
Anyway, the bigger picture was the top - telling others what to do. You did that by getting the big, fat, lazy schmo drunk.
Yes, I didn't like Salvatore. He's a bum who works hard in bed and only in bed. And only with Maria.
The man was on top of the world solely because he had a legacy. I didn't, and I was making my way up. Luigi called me a hitman, and so did Mick. Joey called me a jerk, but that's because I "borrowed" a car.
I only met Salvatore because he needed to set the rules straight about me borrowing cars: I could take any Mafia Sentinel if it helped me do my business or if I needed some wheels, but I could only steal one private car of Joey's.
Joey had back-ups. And if he didn't, he'd buy some from Donald Love. Or atleast he would once the bridge got fixed. I knew it was 8ball and Maria's guy who destroyed the Callahan, but I didn't care. It prevented the Columbian Cartel (or as Joey called 'em, the "Colorado or somethin' Cartel") from getting to the Mafia, which showed some good signs..
Joey was an idiot, too. I'm just glad Luigi and Mick liked me. Who was Mick? Mick was Luigi's best friend, before and after the mob.
Mick got me here. Mick got me in safely. And since I was in with him I was on Luigi's good-side. Luigi was the future, not Salvatore's little Joey. Little Joey. Little Joey's place had an ad that sad "Joey's Autoshop", of which all the gangs in Liberty knew it was Joey Leone.
I hated Joey and loved Luigi. That's when I left for Salvatore's house. There was supposed to be a party there, although I think it just ment that Salvatore would make Maria some love while I went there for some crap-job hitmen job with the man at my side.
Who's the man? Maria's guy. He was the one guy who would get promoted further then me in a shorter amount of time.
So I needed a ride. I saw a Banshee drive right by my apartment (no one owned a house in Liberty). I decided the shiny blue would look good with me.
Bad move.
It was one of those guys on the way to there policemen ball, and I picked the wrong man. I pulled out my nine-millimeter and shot the bullet through his head. It went through his head, so I figured I would give it the Mafia trademark: Three shots to the head. A perfect death. Luckily, the body fell out so the blood didn't ruin the leather.