Kain Nobel
Member
A young cop waiting for promotion to detective is sitting at a red light, when suddenly attacked by a stranger who takes his car, leading to him losing his promotion, and being demoted as a toll booth officer for the East Borough Bridge. While trying to work his way back up the ladder of Law Enforcement, he decides to start taking on investigations of his own, which eventually leads him on a wild ride to take down the single most dangerous individual in all of Liberty City... and some other assholes go down along the way!
The night was cold but the coffee was hot, and the city appeared to be sleeping, meaning something was very off about this night. As I'm driving down the backstreets, I'm looking up at the sky and its a full moon out tonight, and the city never sleeps so the hairs on the back of my neck started to stand up. There I was, just sitting at a red light waiting to go, when suddenly my car door flings open and I'm punched in the fucking face by some asshole who had the odasity to assault a well respected officer of the law as myself.
Don't get me wrong, I had seen the motherfucker clearly when his fist broke my nose but after all that, it was like somebody had ripped the rabbit ears out of my TV while I was trying to view the Sex channel, everything was just all fuzzy 'n blurry. Somebody had turned off the sex channel in my head, fucked my face up and stole my goddamn patrol car, I was pissed! Matter of fact, I'm probably going to get fired for this shit, all thanks to that asshole! And... to top it all off, I can't even remember what the fuck he looked like!
I had made radio contact with HQ, to see if somebody could swing by and pick my ass up, and to report the assalaint had fled... westbound? Hmm, perhaps southbound? Fuck, I hadn't even remembered that, even though I had remembered seeing him drive off and then, well I'm sure you get my drift, I still didn't know what the fuck had happened exactly! Ain't that some bullshit?!
"Radio headquarters, this is Unit 558... I need assistance," I had called on my walkie talkie, "I have just been carjacked on Mohawk Avenue and Dillon Street." Then I started thinking to myself, "You dumb ass motherfucker, why didn't you lock your car door like a good cop should? Why didn't you continually check your mirrors to see if you were going to get 'red lighted' on?" Thoughts kept racing through my mind, like "What are they going to say back at the office when they find out about this?", and trying to reassure myself and be positive like "Well it could've been worse, the dude could've molested you, or hung you upside down in just your boxers from a fence post like they did back when you were a child."
Nothing could've prepared me for what was to come next, a goddamn demotion to Highway Patrol again, which in other words I was stuck working all day at the fucking tool booth, collecting $5 from every poor chum that had to cross that bridge... I wasn't even a real "highway patrol", driving a patrol car; instead sitting in a fuckin' booth about the size of my closet, with a cheap ass little fan that doesn't even work good in hundred degree weather, dealing with assholes telling me off like "Hey copper boy, why do you work in a phone booth?", or "Damn, I would've rather spent my fuckin' money at Burger Shot, now I'm a half hour late because I have to pay your fucking salary, asshole!"
Truth be told, these jerkoffs aren't even paying my salary, they're paying for the construction of bridge which basically cost me my raise, seeing as how the mayor had to pinch to finance the building of this said passage. My wages aren't even made in a tool booth, its based off of a quota of how many arrests I make (or fail to make) and what the charges pending on each suspect is worth. If I catch a couple of shoplifters on their way out of the grocery store, I make a decent 1% quota towards myself, if I catch a murderer I've prettymuch overclocked my quota of the month, so this whole toll booth thing was a bunch of horseshit. Not only am I not expected to meet a quota, but even if I was there's hardly shit to be rewarded for when working in this sweat box, except mabye dying of dehydration or getting shot taking money because I made somebody late for work.
So, there I was, sitting there with the smell resonating from my armpits, waiting to suffer a heat stroke when... I see him! I recognized him, he was the fucking asshole who basically ruined my life and got me to the spot I was now, and to top it all off, he was in my lane!!! Yes, beautiful, I'm gonna get out and harrass, molest and arrest that bastard for fucking my job up with no lubrication! I sent a radio to my commrads to get ready and have my back, because I knew it had to be him and that he'd probably run because he's crazy like that. I thought he'd at least have the decency to pay his toll before jolting off, because this bridge is hot with cops... HA, I thought wrong!
I was just one car away from collecting his toll, when he had swerved around the piece of shit Blista in front of him, and punched the gas like a bat out of hell! Amongst the rumble of engines around me, the honking and whatever else was going on, all I could hear was the sirens of patrol cars ahead following him, then silence. I had used my cell phone to call one of my only buddies who was working that same bridge, only to find out that he got away.
Don't get me wrong, I had seen the motherfucker clearly when his fist broke my nose but after all that, it was like somebody had ripped the rabbit ears out of my TV while I was trying to view the Sex channel, everything was just all fuzzy 'n blurry. Somebody had turned off the sex channel in my head, fucked my face up and stole my goddamn patrol car, I was pissed! Matter of fact, I'm probably going to get fired for this shit, all thanks to that asshole! And... to top it all off, I can't even remember what the fuck he looked like!
I had made radio contact with HQ, to see if somebody could swing by and pick my ass up, and to report the assalaint had fled... westbound? Hmm, perhaps southbound? Fuck, I hadn't even remembered that, even though I had remembered seeing him drive off and then, well I'm sure you get my drift, I still didn't know what the fuck had happened exactly! Ain't that some bullshit?!
"Radio headquarters, this is Unit 558... I need assistance," I had called on my walkie talkie, "I have just been carjacked on Mohawk Avenue and Dillon Street." Then I started thinking to myself, "You dumb ass motherfucker, why didn't you lock your car door like a good cop should? Why didn't you continually check your mirrors to see if you were going to get 'red lighted' on?" Thoughts kept racing through my mind, like "What are they going to say back at the office when they find out about this?", and trying to reassure myself and be positive like "Well it could've been worse, the dude could've molested you, or hung you upside down in just your boxers from a fence post like they did back when you were a child."
Nothing could've prepared me for what was to come next, a goddamn demotion to Highway Patrol again, which in other words I was stuck working all day at the fucking tool booth, collecting $5 from every poor chum that had to cross that bridge... I wasn't even a real "highway patrol", driving a patrol car; instead sitting in a fuckin' booth about the size of my closet, with a cheap ass little fan that doesn't even work good in hundred degree weather, dealing with assholes telling me off like "Hey copper boy, why do you work in a phone booth?", or "Damn, I would've rather spent my fuckin' money at Burger Shot, now I'm a half hour late because I have to pay your fucking salary, asshole!"
Truth be told, these jerkoffs aren't even paying my salary, they're paying for the construction of bridge which basically cost me my raise, seeing as how the mayor had to pinch to finance the building of this said passage. My wages aren't even made in a tool booth, its based off of a quota of how many arrests I make (or fail to make) and what the charges pending on each suspect is worth. If I catch a couple of shoplifters on their way out of the grocery store, I make a decent 1% quota towards myself, if I catch a murderer I've prettymuch overclocked my quota of the month, so this whole toll booth thing was a bunch of horseshit. Not only am I not expected to meet a quota, but even if I was there's hardly shit to be rewarded for when working in this sweat box, except mabye dying of dehydration or getting shot taking money because I made somebody late for work.
So, there I was, sitting there with the smell resonating from my armpits, waiting to suffer a heat stroke when... I see him! I recognized him, he was the fucking asshole who basically ruined my life and got me to the spot I was now, and to top it all off, he was in my lane!!! Yes, beautiful, I'm gonna get out and harrass, molest and arrest that bastard for fucking my job up with no lubrication! I sent a radio to my commrads to get ready and have my back, because I knew it had to be him and that he'd probably run because he's crazy like that. I thought he'd at least have the decency to pay his toll before jolting off, because this bridge is hot with cops... HA, I thought wrong!
I was just one car away from collecting his toll, when he had swerved around the piece of shit Blista in front of him, and punched the gas like a bat out of hell! Amongst the rumble of engines around me, the honking and whatever else was going on, all I could hear was the sirens of patrol cars ahead following him, then silence. I had used my cell phone to call one of my only buddies who was working that same bridge, only to find out that he got away.