crazychicken17

If: 1: I had 33 quid spare, or 2: The ad banner would appear for me, then I would preorder it. Also, spasmod, no-one uses pounds anymore. We use kilos now.

Yeah, it would be a good idea to edit banned members sigs to say why they were banned. The banned group is there because you it makes banning people easier and simpler: just move them into the banned group. The banned group's permissions are set so that they can't view any of the forums, only the main page.

Hmmm, why does it not surprise that you can't be bothered to read it? Oh well... Part 12 coming soon, people!

Alright, glad to hear it. Ooh, just a few hundred dollars away...

Oops... Thug, PM that to him. I'll be starting my shop soon, so get ready for some competition.

That is probably just a glitch. I can't think of any other explanation.

Anyone other than Nick Kang have any comments? Part 11: Wasted Only four men remained in the front garden, and three of them were Haitians. Tommy watched helplessly as one of his men was mercilessly ripped to shreds by the high-calibre bullets of the Haitians. He crouched, took a deep breath, aimed, fired! The recoil was too great and the shot flew wide. The Haitians looked around, shocked and worried. Tommy breathed slowly, and took more careful aim this time: a Haitian was thrown backwards by the force of his bullet. But the other two had seen him, and he ducked behind the wall, not a moment too soon, for bullets cracked past where his head had been just moments before, and didn’t stop coming. ###### down on that side of the building, he crawled over to the other, reloading as he did so. Peering over the wall, he saw nothing but rubble and fire. He clenched his fist at the site of the back wall of his precious house, reduced to nothing but a pile of metal and stone. And now he had another, very real worry: police sirens were drawing closer, and this time, there was no denying what had happened: the wreckage of a plane was burning on his patio, and his walls were stained red with blood. Gunfire from inside told him, though, that the fight was far from over. But there were two men in his front yard, and he was confident that he could take care of them. He moved back to the front wall, and took aim again: the Haitians had given up on him, and probably thought he was dead. They clearly were not expecting him to fire again. Steve stopped at the gates: two angry looking men were there, and he had no weapon. He felt fairly certain that they were working against Vercetti, and he didn’t want to take any risks. How would he get past them? But his question was answered before it had fully formed in his head: two shots were fired in quick succession, and both men fell dead. Extremely worried and nervous, he crept towards the building, keeping his head down, and glancing around all the time. All of the fighting had moved to the main hallway; out of sight from Vercetti’s rifle. He was completely exhausted, and in no fit state to go down and help his men. He collapsed against a wall, and almost lost consciousness. The sound of the sirens snapped him back into reality. They were extremely close now. He had thirty seconds, maximum. Phil pressed himself against the wall, silently praying to a god he had never believed in to spare him from the Haitians. There could not be more than two of Vercetti’s men left in the hall, against four of the Haitian’s best warriors. And the police sirens were so close, and he had only managed to call three people for reinforcements… he fumbled through the file he had grabbed from Vercetti’s desk. Two shots rang out, then the gunfire stopped. Phil had no illusions as to who had won. With quivering hands, he punched eleven numbers into his mobile phone. The sole survivor of the battle, whilst reloading his gun, saw a flicker of movement through one of the doors upstairs. Slowly, and silently, he crept towards the door. The phone rang eighteen times, and with each ring, Phil’s heart beat faster and faster. Eventually he got the answerphone, and cursed silently before dialing the next number. The Haitian was disappointed. It wasn’t Vercetti. This time Phil only had to wait for three rings of the phone. A gruff sounding man answered. “Yes,” whispered Phil, “Thank god… Get to the Vercetti Est-“ “Where’s Vercetti?” came a voice. Phil dropped the phone. His heart stopped beating at the sight of the colt python pressed expectantly against his temple. “Where’s Vercetti?” said the man. “I… I don’t know,” stammered Phil. “Sure you don’t. Where’s Vercetti?” repeated the man. “I’m telling you, I don’t-“, then the man shot him. Vercetti heard the final shot. The rotor blades started to spin, and he fumbled with the controls as if it would somehow make him take off faster. His heart raced as various indicators rose quickly. He felt as if they were measuring how likely he was to be caught by the police. After what seemed like an eternity, a red light flashed, and he reached for the joystick. “Not so fast.” A black man wearing a purple and white suit was standing next to him, a fully loaded Colt Python in his hand. Vercetti almost cried. “Take your hands off the joystick,” said the man. Vercetti had no choice but to oblige. Ideas bounced about his mind, each of them as useless as the one before. This was no spy thriller. He didn’t have the perfect gadget to help his escape. He didn’t have a gun-toting sidekick rushing to his rescue. His enemy was not going to let him stall for time. He closed his eyes and waited for the shot. The shot came almost instantly. Two seconds passed. Vercetti opened his eyes in surprise, after realising that he was not dead. The Haitian stood before him, a look of agony and shock on his face. After a brief moment, the man fell to his knees, then slumped down on the floor. Tommy saw the back of his shirt was stained red. And, standing a few metres behind the corpse, holding a Colt .45 in trembling hands, his eyes wide open with terror and disbelief, was Steve Johnson, the man who had already saved his life once before. There was no time for congratulations. There was scarcely even any time to talk. Vercetti just signalled for Steve to join him in his Maverick, and, as the first of the police cars pulled into his front garden, sirens blazing, the helicopter took off, and within a minute had disappeared out of sight from all of the police.

In the same you add any other mod, isn't it?

Downtown, pets, and growing your own crops were the only yhtree good ideas introduced by expansion packs. Unfortunatly, they milked the downtown idea too much: downtown, holiday isle, old town, magic town, star town...

I use my forums for hosting, I had a brief read through the rules and there doesn't seem to be anything saying not to.

Bugger... to think I actually paid 10 pounds for both of them... Anyway, Chris, what do you mean 'not the actual GTA London'? How many GTA londons are there?

That was part of the attack hack, which Niklas promised so much about, then never bothered to finish. The little bells and nobs attached to your status bar are really pretty pointless, without the actual 'attack' feature they should offer. Anyway, the gang thing will appear when the gang hack is installed.

Great, thanks. I'm gonna start saving up right now. Wait... another question (d'oh). Can your shop have extra staff? So two people could add items and things?

No, in the real store, not in the user shops.

Very nice, keep up the good work. Hope you stay active.

Just plug the PS2 into 'AV1', then set your VCR to record from AV1. But, if you want to record it digitally, you need either a DVD-R or special equipment.

The Sims PS2 version is the second most overrated game ever (Metal Gear Solid 2 being the first). I got bored and sold it on eBay within a week. I pity thet poor sucker who bought it off me. Anyway, I've never actually played the Sims Online, but I've heard that all it really is is a glorified chat room. I have all the Sims expansions except 'Makin' Magic' (the lamest idea ever); frankly I don't think Will Wright should be allowed to make any more money out of this cash cow.

I got up to the last level on Normal, then a freind 'borrowed' it. I got it back on Friday, and now I've completed it and have started a new game on Sick. My best score is about 20 mil. I got to a really small half pipe, did loads of air and lip tricks, when I couldn't get enough air from my jumps I started doing lip tricks, then I just strung about fifty flatland moves together. May I just mention that Eric is a cocksucking shitwad. I never thought it would be possible for me to hate a videogame charecter to the point that I wish he was real so that I can snap his neck... but Neversoft proved me wrong.

It's fine as it is. One last question thuogh. In fact two: How much is a usershop? How long are the restocking periods then?

Bringing back this topic from the old boards: I finally completed this game today, having got it back yesterday from my freind who, two months ago, claimed he'd borrow it for one night. Anyway, what do you guys think of this game? Ooh, another thing: post any cool tricks you've made here, as in which tricks are combined in what order.

Then there's really not much point in the usershop hack, is there? Jeez...

Okay, three simple questions: How much does a usershop cost? Does IBstore have automatic restock? If so, how often does it do it? Thanks.

Wahaha! Bow down before my story writing wrath! Well, I've started giving my chapters names, even though I'll probably run out of ideas and start giving them names like 'The Gunfight of Doom and Haitian revenge' in five chapters. Oh well. Part 10. Part 10: Flamewar. The explosion sent out a pressure wave, and just as Vercetti reached the ground floor, he was thrown off his feet, and landed in a heap just half a metre short of the door. There was gunfire outside, and the sound of tires screeching. “Boss!” came a cry. Vercetti rose to his feet, using the wall for support. He looked up at the young man offering him a Colt Python. Vercetti snatched the gun out of his hand, but his brain hadn’t quite caught up with his body, which limped over to the window, and saw the five brown cars. Four were skidding about on his front garden, spraying bullets from hidden machine guns at dazed, surprised men, some of which were unarmed. The fifth car was overturned, and crawling out of it were two men, each with a machine gun in their hands, and a pistol and lots of ammunition clipped to their belts. Things clicked inside Tommy’s head. Time stood still as he rasped a single word: “Haitians…” Then his world sped up again, and he was bellowing orders. He and Lance had done the same thing before, on the exact same house. He knew how it was done. “Lock the front door! You three, get to the hedge maze! You, out back! You three, stay here and guard the hall! You-“ but there was no-one left to order, except Phil, one of his leading advisors. “Phil,” he said, “go and call every one you can, and tell them to get their asses over here quick.” “But boss,” replied Phil, “It’s only ten men.” “Twelve, if you count the one’s from the plane. And there cant be more than, what, twenty of us?” Vercetti checked his gun, and made to reload it, but he had no ammo. “Phil, give me some mags.” Phil pulled three clips out of his pocket, and pressed them into the palm of Vercetti’s hand. “Do you think the Haitians would send just any twelve men?” Vercetti called as Phil dashed into another room. “These are the best of the best, Phil, and I’m not taking any chances!” Vercetti rushed up the stairs, jumped over the flames, and rushed into the stairway. Joey had heard the explosion, although only faintly, and he did not know what it was. He had more important things to worry about, though. Tapping impatiently on the steering wheel, he stared at the door, willing his team-mates to hurry up. Officer James Reed leapt into his squad car, and one by one a sea of sirens lit up throughout the area. Five squad cars and a fire truck turned out onto the street and began their dash towards Starfish Island. When he was low down enough, Vercetti jumped over the banisters and kicked the door open, dashing into his armoury. He grabbed his PSG1 off the wall, several magazines for it, and a few grenades. There was no time to put on a belt or anything to carry them all, so shoved them into his pockets and burst back into the stairway. As he passed the next floor up, he heard voices, and peered down. Two Haitians were standing at the bottom of the stairway. Evidently, the men in the hedge maze had failed. As he passed the second floor, he reached deep into his pockets and pulled out a grenade, pulled out the pin, and dropped it over the banister, then continued bounding up the stairs, and as he reached the roof he heard the explosion from below. There was no time to stop and check that the men had been eliminated, but he was confident that they had been, so dashed out onto the roof, and peered over the front wall, preparing his sniper rifle. About thirty seconds before, Steve had arrived in his Admiral. Two of Vercetti’s men were engaged in a firefight in the hedge maze, and both sides had yet to get a proper view of their enemy. They were dashing around, shooting through the hedges, sticking together to make sure they did not shoot each other. One man heard a voice – he fired! The bullet hurtled through the hedge, narrowly missing its target. It carried on, through another hedge – then another, and then it had reached the outer wall of the mansion, and it flew past the trees and hit Steve’s tyre. Steve was stunned: this was a fire fight; people were firing real bullets out of real guns. Bullets that could kill a man. The full reality of the situation began to dawn on him.

Hey Pirates of the Caribbean kicked serious ass!!! Anyways I'd have to say Walt Disney is smarter because he wears a cool black suit. Dr. Seuus isn't very smart it's just more or less on crack when he wrote over half his books. All he does is get a bunch of made up words, throw in a few ordinary animals with a star or an ability to talk and there you have a big money-making childrens book! Actually I think Dr. Seuus is awesome... P.s. fun fact, did you know that Dr. Seuus didn't even like kids?...pretty cool huh Okay, let me rephrase: all Disney's cartoons lick ass. In fact, they only seem to make good movies when they work with someone else (Pixar, for example). Anway, I hate them both, but Disney is smarter. Dr. Suess is just plain wierd. He must have been high when he wrote those books. 'Would you like green eggs and ham?'. It sounds like your average Insane_pyro spamathon. Also, The Cat in the Hat is the worst movie I have ever seen. And I've seen 'The Flintstones in Viva Rock Vegas'.

Have you ever been to the National Theatre? They have one of the most complex and intricate stage systems ever. I thought the effects and costumes were handled brilliantly, actually. But, if you are a huge fan of the books, or if your web name is solidsnake, you'll be dissapointed by how different from the book the story is. @ solid: I know they cut out Mary Malone. And I don't care. So please stfu about it.