Max found himself on his apartment's couch the same day he got out of the hospital. His boss wouldn't let him go back to work a few days. Max disagreed, but there was nothing he could do about it. His face was grey and purple, his ribs and legs ached. The couch he lay on was a few years old, but still provided comfort. He had a Mid class apartment which seemed to have a brown color theme.

He had his hand above his head, resting on a pillow while having a cigarette in the other hand which he was constantly taking drags of. The doorbell rang. It opened up, and Pierce came in, holding a bag of Cluckin' Bell fried chicken.

"Hey, Max. How are you holding up?" He asked.

Max took a drag and didn't answer.

"What are you doing?" He took the cigarette out of Max's hands, "You don't smoke." He tossed it out of the open window, seven stories above the ground.

"This sucks." said Max.

"I know man, but what can you do? Ya know?" Pierce sat down in front of the coffee table, laying out the food.

"So… they said you're brother was assassinated?"

Pierce glanced at Max. "Ye-yeah."

"God this city is fucked up."

"It's corrupted."

Max grabbed a piece of chicken and bit into it. "Here's you soda," Pierce handed it to him. "I'm surprised you didn't break any bones."

Max smiled, "Yes. Hey, would you get me a cup of coffee?"

"No, Max. You drink too much coffee, just drink your damn soda."

Max shook his head, "Whatever."

After they finished eating, Max got in a comfortable position, and they started watching TV. The were watching a wacky-random show called, 'The Game of Life'

Before Max knew it was November ninth, he could have sworn someone was hanging around his apartment so he stayed with Pierce for the last few days. He was currently watching TV over there, while Pierce was at work.

During this time, Greg Lane was hanging out at his trashy house. He had a six pack of beer open, and was sitting at the couch with three of his friends, Frank, Jerry, and Nina who were all drinking beers. They drank up the beer quickly, and started smoking, filling the small house in Idlewood full of smoke. They sat around the coffee table, sitting in chairs and on couches, laughing the day away.

There were a few conversations going on between the four people

"Dude, the government has this car man," said Frank, "That runs on water man!"

"So… it's a boat?" asked Jerry.

"No… man, it's a car. Sa car man! It runs on water."

"Yeah… a boat."

"Yesterday I saw my brother on the phone… but he was speaking Chinese." Nina said to Greg.

"What? Chinese?" asked Greg.

"No Jerry. I'll explain. This car runs on water man! But the government doesn't want to sell it, because then we'll use up all of our water man." He continued, "Then all we'll have to drink is beer! And they know that beer is what makes us horny man! They know that beer keeps us together!"

"Yeah," Nina replied to Greg, "so I said, 'Tanner, stop speaking Chinese!' And when he turned around, it wasn't Tanner. Yeah," She shook his head, "It was some Chinese guy."

"Oh, Tanner made me a grilled cheese once!" Frank blurted out, laughing. "He-he forgot to put on cheese."

It sounded like a car was driving up. "Oh crap!" shouted Greg. Everyone in the room scrambled to open up the window, light candles, and air out the room so Vince (Greg's roommate) couldn't tell he was smoking dope. If Vince caught Greg smoking, he would literally kick Greg's ass.

Vince and Leo came back from the Well stacked Pizza, holding two pizza's. The three in the room were acting casual, watching a movie starring Candy Suxxx on JBO.

Leo burst through the door, Vince following him. He looked at the TV and commented, "What the fuck are you guys watching that shit for? Turn the fucking TV off Gregory!"

Greg scrambled to grab the remote and quickly turned off the TV. "Now, get up here and get some pizza." Everyone pushed around the boxes, fighting to get the pizza before it was gone. Greg found himself later that day in his small bedroom, reading a book titled, 'Three Kings: Down in Vice'

The door slammed open, "Gregory, the phones for you" Vince was standing in the doorway, "You ain't looking at porno are you?"

"What? No! I'm reading a book."

"Oh." Greg still sat on the bed. There was a brief moment of silence.

"Are you gonna come get the phone? Or do I have to hang it up?"

"I am a few feet away from you! Why can't you bring it to me?"

"Get, the fucking, phone Gregory."

"Ugh." Greg moaned as he got up, taking the small black phone out of Vince's hands. "Hello?"

"Hey, Greg it's Nina."

"Oh, hey Nina. Sup?"

"We (by we I mean, Me, Jerry, and Frank.) Were wondering if you wanted to go to a club tonight?"

"Oh sweet, when?"

"We'll pick you in a few minutes, get ready." She hung up the phone.

"Sweet." Greg got into his closet and got in his best clothes, a silk-like blue shirt, and a bit torn up jeans. He fixed his hair, and even put on a little cologne. It was seven thirty seven, and he was standing outside waiting for a car to pull up. The sky was a light shade of orange which faded to purple then black, some clouds to the west (just within the orange sky) were pink.

Slowly, a red Admiral pulled up, three people in it. Greg got in the last seat available which was in the back next to Nina. The ride seemed quiet, the radio on Radio Los Santos.

They parked along side the a street that was packed with other cars, and walked down the street a ways to two doors with torches on each side. They entered the club. Lights were shinning through the dry ice, the dance floor was packed, and the music was booming.

Frank was laughing, "I'm gonna go get a beer, Jerry come with me." they walked off towards the bar.

"So… uh… this is pretty cool." said Nina.

"Yeah… it's… very flashy…" said Greg. Very flashy? Come on!

"You, uh… wanna dance?"

"S-sure."

They headed out to the dance floor.

After a while of waiting in line, Frank finally got up to the bar. "Hey, I'd like to get a soda."

"Okay," The tall guy replied.

"And get me a beer son!" Frank looked to the left, Jerry was standing by the door. Frank smiled.

"Oh, and a beer for my dad."

The bartender was looking at Frank, A son and father don't come to a club together… do they?

After a while of waiting, Frank finally said, "You're not going to give me that beer are you?"

Meanwhile, in the small crowd on the dance floor, Greg and Nina were moving about, rubbing their bodies together to the rhythm of the music.

Nearly and hour had passed, and the four found themselves sitting at a table, drinking soda. "This sucks man, we gotta get some beer." Frank said.

"Yeah… Beer always makes everything better." Greg said, while he was playing around with his foam cup.

The door opened, a few purple Ballas walked in. "Oh shit, Ballas." Jerry spotted them out.

"Con on, lets go." said Greg, they headed for the exit. A Balla spotted them and stopped them.

"What are you pricks doing here?" one of them asked.

"Nothing." Frank replied. "Now leave us alone. We don't want any trouble."

"Ooh, well I think I do."

"Step off man." Greg threatened, standing out, in front of the Balla that they were talking too.

The Balla picked up his fist and punched Greg, he tumbled to the ground. "Anyone else want some?" Nina walked out of the club.

"Well, there's two of us, and only one of you… so… Yeah." Frank and jerry tackled him to the ground, beating the crap out of him. Bouncers came running, just when two more Ballas showed up with heaters. They opened fire upon Frank, Jerry, and Greg, who ran back towards the bar. The club turned into a panic room, everyone was screaming and running for the exit, even the bartenders, making it hard to get though the crowd.

They were all hiding behind the bar, the doors packed with so many people it would take minutes to get out. The three Ballas fanned out and were searching throughout the club.

Greg started fumbling with a glass of alcohol. Jerry and Frank looked at him inquisitively, "What the hell are you doing?"

He stuck a towel in it from behind the bar, and lit it on fire with his lighter. He jumped up, and was ready to throw it.

"NO YOU FUCKING MORON!" Frank tackled Greg, but the bottle had already left his hands. When they got up, a fire was growing the middle of the room. It was chaos before they made it out. The club was filled with smoke, and starting to burn to the ground. The three sprinted back to the Admiral and sped off, swerving around traffic, getting the hell outta dodge before the cops arrived. They found themselves at Franks trashy house (he lived alone).

Greg was sitting on his couch, holding his head with his hands, Nina was driven home earlier.

"How stupid could you get. What good was going to come from you throwing that Molotov? DAMN!" Frank screamed.

"I don't… Know, I wasn't thinking." Greg replied.

"The cops will be after us, with all that technology, they'll be sure to find you." said Jerry, "We need to get you outta the city, you got any friends in LV or SF?"

"I could check." Greg went looking through the Phone book, he found Gabe Prince, and old friend from when they were younger.

"You've been smoking too much man, it's fried you brain man. Clouded your judgment." Frank stated.

That same night, Jerry ended up heading to Las Venturas in the middle of the night, driving through a pitch black countryside, the headlights guiding the car though the darkness. The ride was quiet, nobody was speaking, not Greg or Jerry. The was radio off.

At LSPD, Detective Leon Kennedy was sitting at his desk, uncomfortable in his situation. His new schedule made him work until midnight, it was between eight and nine o'clock right now. He was staring out his window on the third floor, looking over Eastern Los Santos. Just a few blocks ahead, smoke was filling the air, the traffic was congested. Leon pondered what was going on as he was sipping his coffee.

The sergeant walked into his cubicle a few hours later, just before Leon got off. "Leon, I have a new case for you." He handed Leon a packet of paper. Leon pushed his hair out of the way as he began to read it. It was his job to work with the scientists to locate the suspect who burned down a club but a few hours ago, and to take him down. Leon prepared himself to go home and get a good night sleep, and start on the case tomorrow.

A/N: I'm sure some of you have noticed my many references to That 70's Show, just thought I would point that out.