Chapter 10: The Heist Part 1
Michael sped through seven buses and one hundred people only to smash right through Lester's house. Lester was having a DIABEETUS attack on the ground! "SHIT!" Trevor yelled while jumping out of Michael's car and repeatedly jumped on Lester's disabled jelly gut. "Trevor wut da hell does u tink you doing nigga?" Franklin niggaed. "I'm saving him, duh." Trevor continued jumping on Lester like a trampoline. Michael rocket blasted Trevor off Lester. "I FUKIN HATE YOU YOU...YOU CANADIAN!" Michael roared. Trevor pulled a plunger out of his ass and stuck it on Michael's face. "AT LEAST I'M NOT A PUSSY ASS BITCH!" Trevor snarled like Pink Panther. "Oh hell no, I'm about to have a bitch fit!" Michael exclammered. Trevor and Michael began slapping each other like high school cheerleaders while Lester was still DIABEETUSing on the ground. Franklin shook his head and shoved insulin into Lester with his handy dandy meth needle. Lester got up. "Oh thank you, Franklin...by the way, what did you use to inject insulin into me?" "Mah needle, mah nigga." "OH NO YOU'RE AN AFRICAN AMERICAN THAT MEANS I GOT AIDS JUST NOW!" Lester hyperventilated and instantly died. "Man, fuck you." Franklin disapproved of Lester's racist death scene. Franklin picked up the plans to the heist from Lester's overweight bod and walked over to Trevor and Michael who were still at it. Franklin conked both of them on the heads with his Super Extreme Bong Blaster Deluxe Edition (TM). "EY! TREVOR, YOU A CRAZY ASS CANADIAN NIGGA, AND MICHAEL, YOU A LAZY PUSSY ASS BITCH. AND I'M A WHITE ASS NIGGA, BUT CAN'T WE ALL ACCEPT OURSELVES FOR WHO WE IZ AND GET THIS HEIST..." Franklin's Martin Luther King speech was interrupted by both Michael and Trevor exclaiming, "WOW! Is that a Super Extreme Bong Blaster Deluxe Edition (TM)?!" "'Ey? You all niggas even listenin to me?" Franklin was ignored as Michael and Trevor took Franklin's bong and blazed it on Lester's dead body. "Eh, what da fuck." Franklin shrugged and they all got high as motherfuckers...When they awoke, Franklin was wearing a Build-A-Bong costume, Michael was wearing pajamas made of ham steak, and Trevor looked like a minimum wage prostitute who might have sucked too many dicks last night. "Wh...where?" Michael began. "Are we?" Franklin finished. "Gentlemen, I believe we have made it in to the World Bank of Extreme Money." Trevor pointed upward to a sign that said exactly that. They were surrounded by gold; piles and piles of gold. "Yes...YESS! YESSSSSSS!" Michael pranced about and humped a little piece of gold, much to Franklin's chagrin. "Hold off Mikey, I hear some guards up ahead." Trevor cautioned. "Welp, better do what we do best." Michael shrugged, took out his phone, and ordered a blimp. "Hm. This door is open, I wonder why." A guard asked while peeking around the corner. "SHHHHH!" Franklin beckoned for the three of them to hide in a pile of gold. Unfortunately, Michael's phone was extremely loud. "THANK YOU FOR ORDERING A BLIMP WITH OUR BLIMP SERVICES (TM). PLEASE PICK UP YOUR BLIMP AT THE PRECISE LOCATION LOCATED ON YOUR PHONE RADAR." The woman SCREEEEEECCCCHEEEEDD so fucking loud. Trevor and Franklin cricked their necks and angrily bested Michael with their Neanderthal stares. "INTRUDERS! SOUND THE ALARM!" The guard yelled. "YA DONE FUCKED UP MIKEY." Trevor pounded on Michael's skull which concaved and caused Michael to have an aneurism. He immediately snapped out of it. "F, T, we got ourselves into this mess, and we're gonna leave with this gold!" Michael coached. "Actually, I don't remember shit." Trevor said while throwing up. "COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" yelled a SWAT team armed to the vagina with bombtacular weaponry.