Chap 4

Start of something great?

They packed the bodies into the Kuruma. One in the passenger seat, four scrunched in the roomy back. Chris used one of 8ball's doorags to cover his mouth from the horrid stench. A few hundred feet from 8ball's place was all they could go without looking suspicious. To Chris's luck, which he thought had run out, a steep drop-off plunged straight to the waters separating Staunton and Portland Islands. There are three islands that make up Liberty; Portland, Staunton and Shoreside Vale. Chris drove to the edge of the drop-off. He placed the car front tires over the edge and quickly jumped out. The four carcasses in the back balanced out the car. Chris headed to the trunk of the car, and vehemently kicked the back. The car plummeted to the stormy water, splashing violently. The sound nearly drowned out the ever-growing din of sirens to the south. Chris looked up the sky. A few raindrops landed on the tip of his nose. Looking south, he saw the fragmented bridge in it's full. The bridge had been cut roughly in half, with beams and wires protruding this way and that. He headed back to 8ball and his room. When he got in his hair was wet, and his hair, when wet went all the way down to his shoulders. 8ball was sitting on the rollout couch that going to be Chris's bed in fifteen minutes. 8ball was watching a porn film. The action was unfolding on the television. Chris smiled and sat down on the bed.

"Y'know, if you do something nasty all over my bed, you'll wind up with the wiggers, man." Chris said, enjoying the entertainment as well.

"Let's switch man, the African thunder is done for tonight." 8ball laughed. Chris winced at the thought of seeing 8ball doing that. Then he realized the obvious truth; it was 8ball's house and it beat the big house. He got up, and 8ball walked past him. 8ball flipped off the T.V, hopped on the bed and opened a drawer full of Sports Illustrated.

"Hey I was watching that, man!" Chris grabbed for the remote. He flipped on the T.V but South Park was on.

"Where is it?" Chris said, getting angrier.

"Hey, man it was canceled when I turned off the set. Watch South Park man." 8ball sighed.

"Shit!" Chris slammed the remote down, then silently watched South Park. After that he went to Leno, then at last, fell asleep.

* * *

Chris woke in the morning to the sound of a car started up.. 8ball stepped into the room, dressed in baggy pants, and a Bulls jersey.

"Chris bro, I'm glad you up. Man, I know this guy who's connected. Name's Luigi. Let's go pay him a visit. He owns the nightclub around the corner." Chris got up, and threw on some clothes. He wore a leather jacket, since the weather was cold as hell in the mornings. He threw on some of 8ball's cargos, which 8ball wouldn't be wearing again. Heading outside, Chris saw 8ball had jacked a station wagon. That or it was his own, which Chris severely doubted.

"Wait a minute, how'd you get this. What about your hands?" Chris said while entering the driver's side.

"It was just waiting for me. Some chump parked it outside the Luigi's club and I drove it back. It's not that far." 8ball willingly entered the passenger side.

Chris knew the way to the club, and ripped his way there the same way he did the night before. Parking out front, 8ball told Chris they would need to use the service door. Walking around back , they saw a tall, broad-shouldered Italian was waiting for them out side the door. 8ball turned to Chris.

"Hey man, that's Jimmy Mottisanti. He's not too bright, but he gets things done. He's gonna let me in, but Luigi wants to have a word with you." 8ball started for the door.

"How do you know?" Chris asked.

" I called Luigi and told him about our deal. He's got some work for you. I told you he's connected, he should get you some rep on the street." 8ball answered under his breath. He walked up the stairs and turned to Jimmy,

"Hey, Jimmy, how's it hangin' brother? Alright man, can I head on in?" 8ball said, shaking Jimmy's hand. Jimmy simply nodded. Jimmy opened the door 8ball proceeded in. Chris attempted to follow suit, but Jimmy's hand came up, stopping him. The door opened from the inside. Chris was confronted by an Italian man, about a half foot shorter than him and smoking a Cuban cigar. He took the cigar out of his mouth, and distantly, from within the club, Chris heard:

"Say hello to 8ball, ladies!"

Luigi smiled.

"So, you wanna be our new errand boy round 'here, Chris? Alright, I can deal. I need you to go pick up one of my girls from the clinic. Don't screw this up and there'll be some work for you. You look like a big guy, so you might see some action soon. " Luigi's voice was heavily accented and nasal, and when it first came out, Chris felt like using the shotgun on him, stowed peacefully away in the backseat of the wagon. Chris simply smiled, then nodded as Luigi, followed by Jimmy entered the club, which at 9:00 had a pulsing beat coming from the inside. Chris made his way to the wagon, got in pumped the shotgun, and drove off. The clinic wasn't far. The car rolled to a stop. He looked around. The only person there had to be Misty. She wore short shorts and a bikini top. Her hair dye had faded so much that her hair was a mix of her natural blonde and the red hair she wanted. She threw on a green jacket, and walked to the car.

"Damn, you sure are good looking for one of Luigi's driver boys. Are you interested?" Misty said, bending over to the driver side window.

" Not now, sweets. I'm just here to take you to the club." Chris motioned for Misty to get in the car. She slowly walked over to the other side.

" So, your Luigi's new errand boy?" she asked. All he did was smile.

He drove fast, at least as fast he could in a station wagon. He ripped right and came to a quick stop in front of Luigi's club.

"See ya round, sugar." Misty stepped out of the car. Chris watched as she walked away. He then accelerated around the corner.

* * *

The station wagon sped up, and Chris didn't even know exactly where he was going. Finally, he decided to ditch the wheels, which could barely break 45, if he's lucky and the engine doesn't explode at 35. He stopped in a nightclub parking lot in the Red Light District. He grabbed the red '85 stallion, hotwired it and rode it smoothly back to the hideout. He liked this ride, and was gonna keep it as long as he could.