12:30a.m., Out Of Towners, Del Perro Pier, Los Santos
The long-awaited second episode of 'The Underbelly Of Paradise' has now concluded filming, and the FIB agent and his camera crew now able to enjoy fresh, ice cold bottles of Logger while looking on to the fantastic skyline of nighttime Los Santos from the balcony. It was finally time to celebrate. Loud rock music was heard all around Del Perro Pier, scaring the hobos away.
"Now!" Shouted Steve Haines proudly, carrying a bottle on his right hand. "I would like to thank you all for your contributions to the long-awaited second episode of my show, wouldn't have done it without you guys! To reward you all, all the drinks are on me!"
A raucous applause was heard from the crew.
"Does this mean I get a raise, Steve?" Said a young cameraman, perched on the back seat, glass of Pisswasser in one hand and raising the other.
"Why, of course not, kid!" Responded the star of the show immediately, getting a few laughs from the crowd.
"Now let's raise our drinks, to the whorish, haggard face of the future!"
Raising the bottle high, the rest of the crew followed suit, before chugging down on the liquor quickly.
Feeling the gurgles on his stomach, Steve Haines clenched his abdominals in complete agony, giving the crew a very frustrated facial expression, much to their amusement.
"Steve, you alright, dude?" One of the crew members asked with a worried look.
"Ugh… I need to drop a deuce, right now…" Responded Steve anxiously. "Could you point out where the shitter is?"
"Uhh, there's only sinks here, nearest bathroom would be at the parking lot… if that's fine with you."
"You gotta be fucking kidding." Steve Haines quickly left the balcony in a hurry, without telling the rest of the crew.
Around the same time…
"This is where Lester said he be, keep your eyes peeled, dog." Said Franklin with a serious look on his face.
"Fuck that shit, nigga. We going in loud! We can fight them FIB fools too, anythin' is possible!"
Loading a fresh magazine into a Micro-SMG with a silencer, Lamar quickly opened the rusted door of the Stanier, only to be stopped by his homie.
"Lamar, the fuck you doing, nigga?! You trying to get both of us killed?!" Shouted Franklin angrily, pulling his homie back by the shirt.
"Nigga, I thought we were in this together!" Rebutted Lamar.
"I thought we was trying to do this shit discreetly!"
"My Apache blood says otherwise!" Laughed Lamar, bringing up the age-old joke back from the dead. "I'm gonna get my ass in there an' scalp that motherfucker Haines!"
Just before Lamar got out, Franklin could see the figure of a fit, redheaded yet smug-looking Caucasian man dressed in a purple polo and smart jeans, rushing into the bathroom hurriedly. Lamar, upon seeing thing, remained in his position.
Seeing this as an opportunity to snuff that arrogant piece of shit, the pair quickly made their way outside the bathroom, taking cover outside. "Nine Is God" played loudly across the speakers, with its loud, noisy surf guitars effectively walling over the pier, making it the perfect opportunity to silence Haines.
Lamar, gripping onto the grip of the gun tightly, was extremely eager to pierce lead through the FIB agent.
"Nigga, let's just go in an' cap his ass!" Shouted Lamar over the music. "I hate his motherfuckin' show!"
"Hold it, dog! He ain't out yet!" Stopped Franklin preparing to enter the bathroom.
"Hallelujah!" Shouted the agent proudly as he exited the toilet door, before going over the the sink to wash up his face.
It was time.
The first verse of the song began playing.
Giving Lamar the signal, the pair quickly ran up to confront Haines at gunpoint.
Steve Haines, slowly looking up, looked like he was about to shit his pants, again.
"You-you… I thought you killed him!" Stammered the FIB agent.
"I did." Said Franklin, pointing the silenced pistol towards his forehead. "But you know what? If I had been a little wiser, he WOULD have killed yo' ass already!"
"You're making the biggest fucking mistake of your whole, insignificant life, kid." Shouted Haines loudly over the loud music, gaining some courage in the face of two gun barrels. "I AM AN OFFICER OF THE LAW, AND I'M-"
Without letting the agent finish his sentence, both Lamar and Franklin opened fire, bullets quickly piercing through his flesh and exiting through the holes, causing his bloodied body to collapse on the ground with a thud. Agent Haines was now out of commission.
"I'll clean the blood, you drag his ass to the trunk." Said Franklin, putting on a pair of gloves and taking out some disinfectant and cloth, before doing the honors, while Lamar simply nodded his head before pulling the lifeless body by the shoulders.
"Damn! You a big dude, Agent Steve Haines!" Commented Lamar, dragging his body towards the Stanier.
"Ey, make sure nobody sees your crazy ass, nigga!" Reminded Franklin.
"Nigga, I'd ice 'em already! Shit, ain't nobody walking around the pier at this hour!"
Adding the disinfectant all over the now clean floors of the bathroom, Franklin gave it one last scrub before getting up and running back to Lamar.
Lamar was already halfway to the Stanier, having some trouble with Steve's body.
"Gonna need some help here, dog!" Shouted Lamar. "This motherfucker been eating!"
Grabbing the body by the legs, Franklin winced, looking over at the agent's mangled face.
That's some nasty ass shit, dog! He thought to himself.
"Shiiit! His brains are comin' out! Sure looks tasty!" Laughed Lamar, much to Franklin's annoyance.
"Nigga, just hurry it up and get the trunk open."
Reaching over to the trunk, Lamar opened the trunk without breaking a sweat before dumping the body inside, closing the trunk immediately after that.
"Rest In Peace, bitch." Said Lamar darkly.
"I know a place where we can dump this nigga, let me take the wheel, dog."
Jumping into the driver's seat, the pair make their way to the cliffs of Paleto Bay.
There was one thing that was to be certain about, it was that justice had been served for Trevor, in the form of blood.