Grand Theft Auto: Canada
DISCLAIMER: This is a very short chapter, just a taste of what is to come. If you read this, please review it. I need some feedback. Thanks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter One:
Betrayal
They say that America invented gangsters. They say that the land of guns and murder is the United States. They think that Canada is a peaceful land, full of Eskimos and beavers.
You know what I say to those people?
Fuck you.
Canada is just as dark, even more so. It is a perfect place to start a gang, the stereotypes of the country working for you. Who would expect gang wars to happen in Canada? Well, they do, and I am here to tell you about them.
* * * * *
The snow was very wet that night, even though it was so cold. A typical October thirty-first, for Edmonton at least. But this was a hot night as well.
The RCMP was out, because something had happened that night.
"Fuck, we are busted man!" Nick told me in a panic, "Let's just get the hell outta here!"
"Man, shut up!" I snapped, "We ain' caught yet, nigga!"
"Dude, there is no way we can get away with this!" Nick continued.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Man, shut the fuck up! You pussy little white boy!"
Nick looked out onto the street. "If we hurry, we can make it to Callingwood!"
"Shit, are you stupid," I sighed, "We are going to the mall, dawg! It's the perfect place where we can blend in! There is so many people there!"
"At two in the morning?" Nick asked sarcastically.
I looked at him with anger. "The fuckin' clubs dumbass!"
"But they have security there, too!" Nick pestered on.
"That's why we have these bitches," I pulled out my glock, and cocked it; "Are you ready to roll or what!?"
Nick shook his head. "Man, you go if you fucking want to. I am done with this shit."
I looked at him dumbfounded. "What the fuck-! Are you fuckin' crazy!? If Psyickness finds out that you left him."
"I will find my own way to survive!" Nick yelled, "I should have never let you bring me down like this!"
Then I was angry. "What the FUCK! This is all my fuckin' fault!? You punk-ass bitch! You were the one that iced the mother fucker!"
"Hey! This was your idea in the first place! Don't fucking tell me that it was my fault!" Nick argued.
All of a sudden, there was a loud "Woo!" and a cop car was screaming down the back alley.
"Son of a bitch!" I cursed.
I started to run, but I looked back to see Nick's shadow through his hands up to surrender. I turned back forward, and ran for my freedom.
But then, a bright yellow car stopped right in front of me.
Psyickness' Dodge Viper was one man fuller as I flipped over into it.
That large black man looked at me through his dark shades. "Where the fuck is Nick?"
I panted. "He fuckin' surrendered himself! He said he was tired of this!"
Psyickness looked forward, shaking his head. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The loud beep was blanked out the following. "Fuckin' pussy-ass wannabe nigga!"
The expensive sports car fired into gear, and the tires spun and smoked.
Soon, we were driving on the freeway, heading west.
"Where are we going?" I asked Psyickness, the wind muffling my voice because the car was convertible.
Psyickness didn't answer immediately. "We are going to a small town, an hour and a half away."
"Drayton Valley," I answered the question for him, "Drug capital of Canada."
Psyickness nodded. "Gotta get some cash for the speed I have been supplyin' them."
"Who's your contact?"
"I dunno, some fuckin' rich bastard. Owns half the fuckin' place."
I nodded in understandment. "Yo, got some any good music, dawg?"
The pimp shrugged. "I've been buyin' some shit lately. I got that new DMX, and that new Obie Trice."
"Fuck, I have heard that DMX G," I added, "Not as great as his first four."
"Damn straight," Psyickness agreed, "But it's a'ight, nigga. But fuck it, put Obie in."
The words and beat came from the massive stereo system, the bass shaking me.
"Who the fuck you mother fuckers gonna run to, when somebody runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you..." Eminem's voice sounded out.
I picked up a paper that was in the storage compartment. I read one interesting article about some guy down in New York, recently being called Liberty City, causing shit.
"That nigga is one fuckin' good gangsta," Psyickness explained, "He has survived against the fuckin' army. He is fuckin' crazy. He even iced Salvatore!"
My eyes were wide as I read the article. "This mother fucker sounds like that guy who was in Vice City twenty five years ago."
Psyickness shook his head. "What the fuck was his name.Tommy Verceti? That bitch was one fuckin' lunatic!"
After an hour, instead of an hour and a half thanks to the speed we were going, we rolled into the 7-Eleven in Drayton Valley.
I walked in the door, and went and got myself a drink.
As I was paying, I looked outside the window, and watched as a car drove by, and mowed down Psyickness.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Written by Chad McGhie, aka Gangsta One.
DISCLAIMER: This is a very short chapter, just a taste of what is to come. If you read this, please review it. I need some feedback. Thanks. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Chapter One:
Betrayal
They say that America invented gangsters. They say that the land of guns and murder is the United States. They think that Canada is a peaceful land, full of Eskimos and beavers.
You know what I say to those people?
Fuck you.
Canada is just as dark, even more so. It is a perfect place to start a gang, the stereotypes of the country working for you. Who would expect gang wars to happen in Canada? Well, they do, and I am here to tell you about them.
* * * * *
The snow was very wet that night, even though it was so cold. A typical October thirty-first, for Edmonton at least. But this was a hot night as well.
The RCMP was out, because something had happened that night.
"Fuck, we are busted man!" Nick told me in a panic, "Let's just get the hell outta here!"
"Man, shut up!" I snapped, "We ain' caught yet, nigga!"
"Dude, there is no way we can get away with this!" Nick continued.
I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Man, shut the fuck up! You pussy little white boy!"
Nick looked out onto the street. "If we hurry, we can make it to Callingwood!"
"Shit, are you stupid," I sighed, "We are going to the mall, dawg! It's the perfect place where we can blend in! There is so many people there!"
"At two in the morning?" Nick asked sarcastically.
I looked at him with anger. "The fuckin' clubs dumbass!"
"But they have security there, too!" Nick pestered on.
"That's why we have these bitches," I pulled out my glock, and cocked it; "Are you ready to roll or what!?"
Nick shook his head. "Man, you go if you fucking want to. I am done with this shit."
I looked at him dumbfounded. "What the fuck-! Are you fuckin' crazy!? If Psyickness finds out that you left him."
"I will find my own way to survive!" Nick yelled, "I should have never let you bring me down like this!"
Then I was angry. "What the FUCK! This is all my fuckin' fault!? You punk-ass bitch! You were the one that iced the mother fucker!"
"Hey! This was your idea in the first place! Don't fucking tell me that it was my fault!" Nick argued.
All of a sudden, there was a loud "Woo!" and a cop car was screaming down the back alley.
"Son of a bitch!" I cursed.
I started to run, but I looked back to see Nick's shadow through his hands up to surrender. I turned back forward, and ran for my freedom.
But then, a bright yellow car stopped right in front of me.
Psyickness' Dodge Viper was one man fuller as I flipped over into it.
That large black man looked at me through his dark shades. "Where the fuck is Nick?"
I panted. "He fuckin' surrendered himself! He said he was tired of this!"
Psyickness looked forward, shaking his head. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel. The loud beep was blanked out the following. "Fuckin' pussy-ass wannabe nigga!"
The expensive sports car fired into gear, and the tires spun and smoked.
Soon, we were driving on the freeway, heading west.
"Where are we going?" I asked Psyickness, the wind muffling my voice because the car was convertible.
Psyickness didn't answer immediately. "We are going to a small town, an hour and a half away."
"Drayton Valley," I answered the question for him, "Drug capital of Canada."
Psyickness nodded. "Gotta get some cash for the speed I have been supplyin' them."
"Who's your contact?"
"I dunno, some fuckin' rich bastard. Owns half the fuckin' place."
I nodded in understandment. "Yo, got some any good music, dawg?"
The pimp shrugged. "I've been buyin' some shit lately. I got that new DMX, and that new Obie Trice."
"Fuck, I have heard that DMX G," I added, "Not as great as his first four."
"Damn straight," Psyickness agreed, "But it's a'ight, nigga. But fuck it, put Obie in."
The words and beat came from the massive stereo system, the bass shaking me.
"Who the fuck you mother fuckers gonna run to, when somebody runs up with a mask and puts a gun to you..." Eminem's voice sounded out.
I picked up a paper that was in the storage compartment. I read one interesting article about some guy down in New York, recently being called Liberty City, causing shit.
"That nigga is one fuckin' good gangsta," Psyickness explained, "He has survived against the fuckin' army. He is fuckin' crazy. He even iced Salvatore!"
My eyes were wide as I read the article. "This mother fucker sounds like that guy who was in Vice City twenty five years ago."
Psyickness shook his head. "What the fuck was his name.Tommy Verceti? That bitch was one fuckin' lunatic!"
After an hour, instead of an hour and a half thanks to the speed we were going, we rolled into the 7-Eleven in Drayton Valley.
I walked in the door, and went and got myself a drink.
As I was paying, I looked outside the window, and watched as a car drove by, and mowed down Psyickness.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------
Written by Chad McGhie, aka Gangsta One.