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Orange_CheeseRIO

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  1. No offense, but that didn't make sense at all. And the reason Carl's grammar seeming so proper is because he's been through a lot and is taken things step by step. He finally loses it when he gets into the fight with Tommy Vercetti.
  2. CJ woke up a day after the shooting. He wasn’t shot or hurt in any serious way. The only thing that happened to him was the punch to his face that busted his nose and knocked him out. It was funny though—a fun night out at the Lil’ Probe Inn with your girlfriend—two people without a care in the world until a bunch of bikers who had a bad rep of knocking up bars and roughhousing the people. CJ was fine. The doctor said he could go in a few hours—the hospital even said they’d pay for the cab. What was also funny, how come he got transferred so far from the bar? He was at the Los Santos Hospital. “How are you, Carl?” Doctor Sprunk asked. “Uhh, huh? What? Oh, I am fine. You?” CJ scratched his head. “Oh, I’m perfect. I have a message for you. The woman who gave it to me looked kind of like you. But I don’t know.” The doctor grinned. “Hmm… can I see that?” Carl put out his hand as the doctor gave him the envelope. “Don’t worry, I haven’t read it. I’ll leave you alone.” Carl tried to say something but the doctor shut the door faster than CJ could think. Carl opened the envelope really carefully and took out the paper. It read: Dear Carl, My name is Craig Jared Michael Dawson. I have some valuable information for you. But, it is for a price. You see, I have a friend in Los Santos who has left a package for you in a car. You’ll have to pick up that car behind the Vine Wood sign. It will be behind the two “oo”s. In that, there will be approximately 900,000 dollars in cash. This is only half of the reward. I know this sounds fake but this money is all I own. I have something else to earn twice of that money but that’s where you come in. In the car, there will be another letter that says what the job is. I hope this help you. —C. J. M. D. A thumping noise could be heard in Carl’s chest. It kept beating and beating. Then, Carl heard the voice of a police officer. “TENPENNY!” Carl thought and hid the envelope in his pants and laid back down. “Good morning Carl, what’s going on?” Tenpenny asked in his sarcastic tone. “Nothing, sir. Where’s Palaski and Hermandez?” “Don’t give me that boy! ‘Sir’? ‘Sir’? You only say ‘sir’ when you have something to hide!” Tenpenny looked at Carl’s bed. “Whatever, man. Go one somewhere. I ain’t got nothing to hide!” Sweat rolled won Carl’s cheeks faster than the mustard squirting onto Big Smoke’s hotdog. “Ok, I’ll let you slide. But just this once, Carl. Bye now.” Tenpenny walked away and then turned back and slammed Carl into his crotch. “AHHHH!” Carl yelled out but Tenpenny flew out of there. “No, he’s fine…” Tenpenny could be heard saying to the nurses. Carl flipped on his TV in the room to keep his mind straight. Two Hours Later Carl walked out of the hospital with nothing but his jeans, his white t-shirt, shoes, and an envelope that held the chance of a lifetime. …the smell of the Ganton air filled the nostrils of Carl’s nose. “Thanks.” Carl said to the driver. The Driver nodded and drove off. CJ walked up his stairs and twisted the doorknob half way and paused. He thought to himself about everything going on. What is going on? Everything’s falling apart. His girlfriend—“Oh ,” he thought, “what about Millie?” CJ’s mind went into a blank and then it went about eight-teen hours backwards and noticed Millie was never there. Or was she? Where could she have gone? He then thought about the person who punched him. “Could it be?” he wondered. But it was useless. Carl twisted the knob further, but it didn’t go any further. He kept twisting it and then stepped back to his doormat and took out the key that was laying there. Something was different to him—really different. There was a different smell to him then his regular “house smell.” He was confused. Carl went towards his TV to play a video game. As he turned it on, he looked at his game controller. The controls were C.J.M.D. “Wait!” he yelled out aloud. He thought back: “…I hope this help you. —C. J. M. D.” “C.J.M.D.” He said to himself. “Carl… Carry… CRAIG!” He pulled out the letter and read it again: “… name is Craig Jared Michael Dawson.” “That’s smell! Craig was here.” He said to himself. He went into a deep ten minute trance. Suddenly, his phone rang and he jumped up, dropping the letter. “Uhh, hello?” He asked the unknown caller. “CARL! It’s Reggie—Craig’s friend. I need you to go get that car behind the two “oo”s at the Vine Wood sign. Can you do it?” “Yeah, but who—” Carl’s ear heard a click and then he turned the phone off. Carl scratched his head and went in his kitchen to get a bowl of Cok-O-Pops. “Damn!” He dropped the bowl onto the ground but it didn’t break. He looked at the watch on the counter and picked it up and looked at the time. It was 5:37 PM. Good timing. He finished his cereal and went outside to get his bike—he had a short way to go but enemy gangs are sure to get him. He was scared, but it was for some information… and he felt as if he had no choice. But what was this information to him? And what was so important about everything? And what was that smell? Ten Minutes Later Carl pedaled really fast this time—you know, to avoid being shot or seen or seen and getting shot. He was scared about this. He hopped off his bike and walked up the hill to get behind the sign. He found the car. It was taxi actually. And it was unlocked. He hopped in and found the money. Carl’s heart started pounding faster than before. $900,000 was in his hand. He then looked in the glove compartment and found another envelope. Carl took out the note and read it to himself: To whom it may concern: My name is Whitey Salvanno. I am a friend of Reggie’s. If you found the note, you’ve found the money. Don’t spend that money just yet except for a few things. These few things include: A Silenced pistol, a sawn-off shotgun, an M4, a Micro Uzi, some armor, and a parachute. You will need to go to the Las Venturras International and steel inside a hangar the AT-400. After that, you have to go to Area 69 and parachute into the area but be as stealthy as possible. In the control tower, there will be an item that I need. When you get it, bring it to me. But go to a Pay ‘N’ Spray and lose the heat. Got that? You’re in too deep this time. There is no way out. You either accept this job or die—I have my ways of getting to you. —Whitey Salvanno Carl started pacing. There was no way out unless… but he couldn’t take a chance. Like Whitey said: He was in too deep. Carl drove up to the Ammunation and parked his car. He hesitated to get out. “Man, should I go?” He thought. “Should I tell someone?” His heart was pounding and his head was turning the opposite of his door, but his hand was reaching for the lever to open it. It kept going and Carl kept fighting it in his mind, but it opened and he stepped out. It was like he was possessed. He walked into the Ammunation and took out the list: …silenced pistol, a sawn-off shotgun, an M4, a Micro Uzi, some armor, and a parachute… “A parachute!” He thought. But then he realized he could get one in the airplane. “How can I help you?” The cashier asked him in the small gun shop in Ganton. “Do you have silenced p-pistol, a sawn-off shotgun, an M4, a Micro Uzi, and some Armor?” He asked. “Well, yeah. What the hell you need that for?” The guy asked. “Uh, um, nothing.” Carl said as the man took out the things. Carl then took out his sawn-off shotgun. “Woah man, watch where you have that. Now put it away and get out before I call the police and have them cap your ass. But pay me first.” The man reached to his holster and took out his gun half-way. Carl thought for a minute about whether or not he should pay the man or shoot him to leave no witnesses. He thought about it. The man took out his pistol and aimed it straight at Carl’s face. “Give me the damn guns back and get the hell out!” The man clutched the gun tighter. Carl whipped his hand up and smacked the gun away from his face and blew the man’s head off. There were no witnesses so far… hopefully. Carl hid his weapons and got back in the cab. He had to trash the car somehow. He then went and drove the car into the bay next to the Los Santos Airport. He could walk the rest of the way to get to it. He boarded the flight and went to the Las Venturas International—well, he realized it wasn’t the “International” but oh well. He went to the gates to get inside. The guard said he could go through because he saw his Pilot License but Carl didn’t want to take any chances. He hid a little and shot the man once in the chest, and once in the head with his silenced pistol. Carl peeked inside to see if he could be seen but no one could see the body unless they were at Carl’s point of view. Carl also noticed some El Burro tapes next to a big pile of CHEESE. Carl chuckled and walked inside to go to the hangar where the AT-400 was at. He jacked the plane and maneuvered it out of the hangar and onto the runway. His speed was increasing as the plane lifted up and up until Carl was twenty feet away from land. He put the landing gear up and called Reggie up. “Hello?” Reggie asked. “Reggie, it’s Carl. I’m on the plane.” Carl answered. “Oh, hey man. Alright! Good! Now, you have to everything right. A little high and when the first rocket fires at you, jump out and parachute down.” “Alright, I will.” Carl was sweating so much that he had to re-grip the phone every second. “Ok, good luck.” “Thanks man.” They both hung up. “Here it is, Carl.” He said to himself, “The moment of your life. You’ve gotta’ do it! You’ve gotta’ take charge.” Carl was heading toward the restricted area. “Pilot, leave the airspace immediately. I repeat: IMMEDIATLEY! If you do not comply, we will be forced to shoot you down.” Carl kept flying. The first rocket came and hit the tail of the plane. “Oh !” Carl yelled. He jumped out of the cockpit and went towards the exit. “THIS IS IT!” He opened the hatch and the wind sucked him out. “AHHHHH!” he screamed. The wind was drying his eyes out and his cheeks were blowing up bigger than a blowfish because of the force of the wind. His vision was nothing but blurry clouds and the sun out of the corner of his eye. He then pulled his parachute to open but it jammed. “Oh no! Come one!” He thought. But unexpectedly it popped open and the force jerked Carl’s body upwards and he coughed a few times. He got his silenced pistol out and was ready for action. Seven Minutes Later Carl all the way across from the control tower which sucked for him. “I guess it’s all down hill from here.” He whispered to himself. He started to make his way on the outside, dodging the spotlights. A guard was right next to him but wasn’t going to confront Carl because he was turning the other way. Carl shot him at once in the back of the head. He then went around a few bunkers and was finally detected. “Attention all ground personnel; there is an armed intruder in the facility. Use caution and take him out with everything you’ve got. Also, block the control tower.” An announcement came on. Carl jumped up and looked for the tower. He found it! He shot some more guards with his M4 and Micro Uzi. He finally made it to the tower and found what he needed. It must have been something so secret that they had to hide in the most obvious place. But what was it? No one knew except for the person that needed it. Carl collected the piece of armor behind him and ran to find away out. He found one but needed to fight his way out. Carl jumped into the patriot but it was shot too much. He then made his way to the nearby helicopter. “All SAM sites are activated. We must not let him escape.” The announcer said. Carl quickly lifted off and made to his runway in Verdant Meadows. He landed the chopper but needed to be quick; so he hopped into his Hydra and flew back to Los Santos—even though enemy jets were shooting at him, he could shake them because he was an excellent pilot. He went towards the ground and hopped out fast and killed the nearest driver in the nearest car to go to a Pay ‘N’ Spray. He made it. But Carl needed to relax before calling Reggie back. He went into a Cluckin’ Bell. Carl finished his meal and walked out of the fast-food restaurant. “Damn,” he said to himself. “I need to call Reggie.” Carl took out his cell phone and hopped into his car. “Hello? Is this Reggie?” Carl asked. “HEY MAN! So, how did it go? Oh wait, you’re all over the news! HAHA! Not you, exactly, but the son of a who did the job! Nice one man!” “Thanks, Reg. Um, what is Whitey’s number?” Carl tapped his head and chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry about it. He’s calling you in a few minutes—I just told him to put on the news.” “ALRIGHT! Thanks man. You are really helping a friend out.” “No problem. Well, I’ll let you go. See ya Carl.” “See ya man.” Carl flipped his phone shut. Just as he put it on the seat next to him, it rang. “H-hello?” In a robotic voice, someone answered: “Carl, it is Whitey! I would like to congratulate you on your performance with stealing that device. I want you to meet me outside of your house in Ganton. There, you will see a pink Stretch—that’s me.” “Alright then. What time?” Carl asked. “As soon as this conversation ends. After, you meet me, I will give you valuable information. See you then.” Carl flipped his phone shut again and drove to his house. Sure enough, Whitey was there. Carl parked his car and went up to the Stretch. A window went down half way and out came a hand with a glove asking for the device. The person still had the robotic voice. “Thank-you. And here is everything you need to know.” “Ok, than—” but the car drove off. Ten minutes after thinking on the couch, Carl opened up the envelope. It was a newspaper clipping with a letter inside. Carl read the newspaper article first: Last night, a woman in Ganton named Beverly Johnson, single mother of four, was murdered. A drive-by from a rival gang of the Grove Street Families called the “Ballas” drove down into the court and shot at the Grove Street Families leader’s mom’s house. The vehicle is said to be a dark blue or light green color and it looked like a Sabre or a Clover. “It was dark and I couldn’t see what the color was exactly.” Says a women named Men Stroll. The son of the mother killed, who is the gang leader of the Grove Street Families had something to say: “I don’t what the hell went down there. I’ll kill the es responsible for this and the person behind it!” A lot of emotion from this Continue to “Mother” on C5 And then Carl looked at the letter. Carl, I am your brother. I killed moms. I’m the one who set everything up. It is me, Sean. Yeah you little ass . Come to my house in two hours—I got your ass this time. Carl jumped up and went upstairs. He punched the wall in his room. He punched it hard. He punched it so hard that his hand began to bleed. Just then, he went over to his drawer and took out a Python. He took all of the bullets out except one. He raised the gun up and cocked it—then, he put it to his temple. As he finger began to squeeze, Sweet came through the door. “Don’t move you dumb ass !” Carl said as he aimed the gun at Sweet. “Damn CJ!” Sweet fell behind the door. “Why’d you do it Sweet? Why man? Why did you kill moms?” “CJ! I don’t know what the you are talking about! Now put the gun down!” Carl wanted to hold it up—but he realized it was Sweet. Sweet never lied like this. “Man, I’m sorry… it’s just that—” “What, CJ? What is it? You think I’d kill someone that has known me all of my life? Someone who raised me when we didn’t have a dad? Man that’s cold, CJ.” “I’m sorry. I have to show you this.” Thirty Minutes Later “You did what!” Sweet jumped to his feet. “I needed to, Sweet. I needed the money.” “Oh damn, man. That’s hard core—but now you’ve got most of the state locked down except for here. They’re coming though.” “I know man but—wait, did you hear that?” They both went outside and saw all of their friends on the ground moaning. “What the hell?” Carl asked himself. The police were storming everywhere in the neighbor hood—but they were BIO Squads with special suits. Carl and Sweet were then sprayed by a man with a suit and knocked out. They both woke up in a trailer with Cesar. “Ey holmes. Listen, it’s your sister guys. She’s gone crazy.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Carl asked. “You know that whole thing that caused this? She set it up. She’s trying to get rid of all of the gangs except for the Ballas. I overheard talking with some ho named Denise.” “DENISE!” Sweet asked. “Carl, ain’t that ho your girlfriend?” “Was, well, um yeah. But—” Carl was nervous. “But nothing! I knew something was up when she was so close in Ballas turf. Damn! What house did you rescue her from again?” “I think it was a Vagos crackden.” “SEE! She’s getting in good with all of the gangs so she can plan something.” “Exactly, holmes.” Cesar said. Then they flipped on the TV. The reporter said: “A gas that was stolen earlier from the Area 69 Base has been causing so much havoc in Los Santos. Main turf for local gangs Vagos and Grove Street Familes have been wiped out of everyone except for the BIO Squads. The local Ballas haven’t had anything done to them, and the Military, as well as the FBI are now integrating the gang lord.” The TV shut off and Kendl came in. “Hi Carl.” Kendl said. “H-hey Kendl. Wat’s up?” Carl hesitated. “Just this bullet in my ing gun; it’s going, up through your head and through the ceiling and through the mothaing sky!” Cesar jumped up and smacked Kendl away but Kendl had a few tricks up her sleeve; ten Ballas were outside and ran into the trailer and shot Cesar to death. Just as the commotion stopped, Carl and Sweet hopped out of the window and ran around on the Sanchez that is always there and drove to Las Venturras to meet up with Woozie (Wu Zi). “Carl, we’ve got to get out of here. Rival gang members from Los Santos and the Grove Street Families are heading up here—it’s already war in Los Santos and in San Fierro. The Army, SWAT, and FBI are already coming up here as well; mostly because it’s more of a tourist area than anywhere.” “Where do you suggest, Woozie?” Sweet asked. “Well, I hear it’s deserted and really safe.” He replied. “Where mothaer!” Sweet was losing his patience. “Area 69!” Woozie said. “Oh !” Carl said. “What’s the matter?” Woozie asked. “Nothing, let’s get out of here before it breaks out into a war! We’ve got to get into a Coach and get at least twenty of us in it and then go to the Ammunation and a 24/7 for food and guns.” Carl had no problem stealing a Coach; actually, he told the driver to stay on—the driver had no family, so it was cool. They drove to the Ammunation first and told the owner to come with them and got the people that were at the shooting range to come, too. There wasn’t enough room, so Sweet got out and told the driver to either stay or go—the drive fled. Carl got on the CB: “Next stop, a 24/7!” They went up to 24/7 and told everyone to follow them that wanted to be safe; no one came. But they bought all of the food there and took two of the coolers with them. “Carl, there ain’t no way we can make it all the way to Area 69.” Sweet said on the CB. And he was right; the army started rolling in from the area. “I have an idea, Sweet. We’re going to the airport—follow me.” He replied. Carl pulled up to the airport gates and told the guard to follow him for safety. “Ey man, hop in!” Carl said. “I, uh, ok! My family is there already!” The man said. Carl stopped and was shocked. His heart pounded repeatedly. They went to the hangar that the AT-400 was when he stole it—it had another when in it. Thirty Minutes Later The plane took off and they could see army vehicles going everywhere—and they could see gas everywhere from the bombs Kendl had Carl steal. The SAM Sites must have been cut off because nothing was getting shot at them. They landed at the airstrip in Verdant Meadows and all got out. “Ok, listen up,” Carl began to yell, “The helicopter right here can only carry about three more in the seats, and about four standing up if we squeeze together. I will take those people first, and then pick up the coolers and food with the lift. Then, I will come back and take the next seven in the chopper and then put about ten of you in a vehicle and carry you to the base. How many is that Sweet?” He said and then asked his brother. “Twenty-four, bro.” Sweet said. “Thanks. Then, the remaining ten, I will take in the chopper and on a motorcycle with the lift. Now, let’s do it!” One and a Half Hours Later Carl did that, and took the twenty guys in Woozie’s gang first—including Woozie—and then the remaining people last. He then landed the chopper in the base and let the others in at the gate. Most people there we rednecks with rifles and sawn-off shotguns. A few of them were a little mad about Carl and his group coming, but they let it go; well, except for one guy with a mini-gun. “Who are you?” He asked. “Carl Johnson. And this is my crew; we’re protectors and we won’t bother.” “Better not…” the man said and walked away. Three Hours Later at 9:00 PM “Carl, you wake?” Sweet asked. “Yeah, bro. I’ve been thinking’.” “Yeah, me too.” Sweet replied. “It’s just, how could Kendl Johnson, out little sister, kill so many people—and let her boyfriend, Cesar die?” Carl got a little teary. “I don’t know, brother. I just don’t know.” 2:04 AM Carl was asleep. In his sleep, Carl moved around a lot—and Sweet, who was awake, saw that he wasn’t moving; but talking to himself. Sweet dried to hear every word that was said. In this particular dream, Carl’s mother and brother visited. i “M-moms? Brian? Is that you?” Carl asked. “Yeah, it’s me bro. Where you been?” Brian, Carl’s deceased brother asked. “I’ve been here, bro—home, at the Grove. What about you?” Carl asked. “Oh, up in Heaven, with moms—watchin’ your ass get shot. How could you let me die? How could you do it!” Brian asked and his eyes got all misty. “Now, now, Brian. You stop your fussin’ and go sit down while your big brother and I have a talk.” Carl’s mom, Beverly said. “Yes ma’am.” Brian said. “Well, Carl, it’s been five years since I’ve last seen of you. How have you been?” Beverly asked. “Fine, thanks. And you?” “Oh, same ole, same ole. Just getting shot up, that’s all.” Beverly began to tear up. “Look, ma, um, I’m sorry. It’s just that—” “Look son, I have an idea! I want you to relive the horrors your brother and I lived by being in their shoes and watching you run out!” Beverly began to raise her voice. “Oh-ok, moms. But how will I?” Carl asked. “Like this.” Beverly raised her hand over Carl’s face and suddenly, Carl was in Brian’s body—seven years ago; and a minute before he died… “Carl, Carl, come on, drive! Get out of here!” Carl, in Brian’s body yelled. “Not yet, I’ll get him! Just sit your ass down and shut up!” Carl said in return. “Come on man, go, go!” He said, but Carl (the flashback one) hit this hand over Brian’s head and made a big cut. “Ow, man!” Brian said. “Shut up!” Said Carl just as a stray bullet came threw the windshield and hit Brian in the chest. Heave breathing could be heard… it was Brian—and Carl left the car. It was the actual thing that happened; except Carl was in Brian’s body. His eyes began to close as sirens from all around could be heard. Carl started to cry as his chest began to pound. “Now do you see what happened, Carl?” Brian asked, behind his mother’s back. “I’m sorry, bro. Damn, I left you… I’m so,” Carl sobbed and paused and said: “sorry, man. I really am.” “Carl,” his mother began, “You have to relive my horror, just like I lived it in life. Though, it wasn’t your fault, but because of you being so stupid; thinking some ho is a ‘good girl’ when she lives on different turfs, things become your fault.” “But ma,” but Carl changed into his mom’s body—a few months back—the night of her killing. “Ok, I love you too, Carl. Take care.” Beverly, well, Carl in Beverly’s body, said to himself in the past and hung up. “Moms, me and Kendl are going to go down to my place and chill for a little while. See ya,” Said Sweet as he shut the door. Beverly (Carl) was chopping carrots in the kitchen when all of the sudden noise could be heard. She ran out to the living room to see that people were running out of the way when a green car pulled up into the court and started spraying the area with machine gun shells—and they were all meant for the Johnson house. Sweet ran in to see Beverly laying there dead and grabbed Kendl and the phone and ran outside. Just as— “Carl, wake up! It’s Sweet!” Sweet woke Carl up from his encounter. “What, huh?” Carl mumbled. “Sweet! I had a dream, and it was with moms and Brian and—” said Carl but was interrupted with Sweet saying: “Me too, bro. Me too.” “So what happened in your dream, Sweet?” Carl asked. “Well, it was weird. She came to visit me with, well, Brian. They told me how they were sorry for everything—but I didn’t know what the hell they did.” “That’s strange… they were pissed at me—even moms.” “Why though?” Sweet asked. “I don’t know, bro. I just don’t know.” Carl answered. Footsteps were heard outside of the tent and then Woozie came in. “Carl, it’s an emergency; come, quick!” Carl and Sweet followed the blind, yet talented man to a battery operated TV. “…fire and gas has spread everywhere in San Andreas. Residents in the city have fled to the country or other states in America. It is very scary out here with all of the shooting and bombing—and if word is correctly heard, other military forces will be arriving via plane and ship from Vice City, Florida, and Liberty City. I am Veronica Burgundy—Channel 69 News.” “Woah, damn!” Carl said out loud. “I know, it’s tough. But we have to plan an attack when the other forces arrive—not against them, but with them. Criminals and feds together can stop anything.” Woozie said. “You’re right… hmm, I need to get on the loud speaker and say this.” Carl said and quickly ran to the control tower to direct everyone’s attention to him. “Ahem, may I have everyone’s attention please? Please, gather around, gather around. Hurry the up, y’all!” Carl began to get angry. “As some of you know, armed forces from Vice City and Liberty City will be coming here shortly. We will need to negotiate a deal with these guys in order to save us, and the family we love—no, the home of the family we love, San Andreas! We will fight these bastards with all we’ve got—no matter the odds. And if the armed forces give us , damn them to Hell! We will fight!” Carl cleared his throat. “We will fight for our lives until we stop these pieces of from killing us all! Now who’s with me?” Carl saw over one hundred and fifty hands fly in the air and yells of encouragement throughout the base. Just then, a voice came through the intercom from a radio: “Uhh, yeah, we’ve got some commotion at Area 69, we are now engaging, over.” “Copy that, over.” “Fox Idol 5, out.” Just as that conversation was over, five jets flew across the base. Carl quickly turned the SAM Sites on but it was too late—ten missiles were headed toward the base and everyone quickly ran to the outer walls. It was a blood gulch in the base—well, the crater that was once a base. Over one hundred people were killed… and over twenty vehicles were destroyed. Just as the jets came back to fire more missiles, a crop-duster came in view and intercepted the jets—followed by at least twelve rustlers shooting them down. “This is Hank, from Montgomery—we’ve got your back. Carry on—and we have some more people coming your way to help out. We’ve got to negotiate a deal and maybe we can win this war!” “Yeah, ok, thanks Hank!” Carl replied back “Ok, can we use your airstrip as a landing place and fueling place?” Hank asked. “Hell yeah! But how did you know it was mine?” Carl scratched his head. “I’ll explain later!” 12:05 AM Carl crept over to the main gate and opened it. “Hey Hank, what’s up?” Carl asked. “Carl, do you recognize me?” Hank asked. “Um, wait, Toreno! Is that you?” Carl looked surprised! “Ha, good guess. I like what you did Carl—real resisting !” Mike Toreno—a federal agent that helped Carl out—said. “Thanks, uh, I guess.” Carl said back. “Look, Carl, we’ve got to get out of here, ok? I have just been informed that this whole attack was planned not by your sister, but by some idiots in Carcer City. They’re bringing an army up along with Vice City and Liberty City and are planning to kill everyone in San Andreas with that gas.” “I don’t get it. How could this be—” Just as Carl said that, a loud explosion was heard. Carl and Mike looked behind them and saw that everyone was screaming in pain. Then, Carl was knocked out along with many others. The Next Day The TV was up real loud—I mean, it woke Carl and some other people up. “Well, the fighting is over but sadly, thousands of people’s lives were ended during this battle. It seems that Carcer City, an island near Liberty City, created a gas that will kill certain people. This gas could target certain blood, clothing, and even other body fluids. It seems that one of the main people involved in the San Andreas attack was Kendl Johnson—the sister of the two resistance leaders. In a few moments, a list of the known people in the resistance that have died will be read.” Carl got up and noticed Sweet wasn’t there—nor Mike Toreno. Then, the list came on: “Sean Johnson, Michael Toreno, Jim Seth, Sam Homer, Dan Housen, Burch Hellman, Stu Kah, Spike Divel, Martin Chunks, Robert Hayes, Robert Everest. We’re sorry if any of these known deaths were loved one…” Carl yelled out “NO! It can’t be!” But it was. Sean—well, Sweet, his brother had been killed in this attack. “Carl, I have something for you.” It was Millie. Carl and Millie both hugged and cried. “What is it, baby?” Carl asked. “It’s a note that the coroner found in Sweet’s pocket.” Carl read it: Hey Carl, it’s Sweet. Man, I love you, alright? If you’re reading this, I am now talking with Moms and Brian over a cup of tea. I don’t know about Kendl but hopefully, we’ll see her sometime. I just want you to remember something: when you’re ready to die, go to Mount Chilliad. That’s where I’ll meet you to take you, ok man? Peace bro. Love, Sweet. “I’m sorry babe,” Millie said, “It must be hard.” “I know… I know.” You’ve just completed reading Restricted Access Pt. 1 Pt. 2 will be here shortly. The reason you'll see "mothaing" or anything like or "this sucks" or something is because FanFiction.net deleted "****" and shit. Pt. 2... it's a work in progress. Restricted Access: The Area 69 Breakout Introduction It was 1995… three years after the Area 69 break-in. Kendl was killed, Sweet was killed… even Ceaser. Out of everyone in the whole state of San Andreas, Carl Johnson probably has had it the worst. He lost his mother, his little brother, his older brother, his sister, his childhood friends, and one of his best friends that will never betray him. It seems that the whole Area 69 incident back in ’92 might’ve fixed things up; Los Santos cooled down with the whole gang thing… it was actually safe to walk down to a bar and not a single gunshot could be heard. It was, well, perfect. But one thing made everyone in Los Santos nervous and that was Tommy Vercetti. Tommy Vercetti is the drug-lord of Vice City, Florida and has had his eye on San Andreas for a while. If he wanted to take over, he could—he was powerful enough. Though Vice City’s armed forces helped San Andreas out in chaos, Tommy Vercetti can make them do whatever he wants. He controls the military in Vice City, the SWAT, the police, and almost all gangs. He could have over two thousand people in San Andreas within a week to take over the state city by city. He also has a few contacts in Liberty City to fly down here and control Vice City while he’s gone… it’d be perfect. 5:58 PM; Ganton, Los Santos Carl Johnson was leaving his home to visit the cemetery to see his mother, two brothers, and sister. His eyes started to tear up as he thought of past times with his family; hanging out with Brian; eating his mother’s breakfast on a Saturday morning; watching Sweet and Kendl argue over the dumbest things. You could say Carl was a true fighter; a soldier who had the biggest heart out of anyone. Carl got out his phone and dialed Millie’s number. “Millie? Hey, it’s Carl.” “Hey sweetie, how are ya?” Millie asked. “I’m good baby, I’m good; just about to visit my family’s graves… do you want to come?” Carl scratched the back of his neck; he does that when he’s nervous. “Look babe, I’ve told you a ton of times: I hate going to a cemetery. I am sorry but—” The phone cut off. Carl called her back two more times and no one answered. “Aw, **** it.” Carl said to himself. The sight Grove Street Families and Ballas made Carl feel like he made a difference; he did after all make a difference in everyone’s lives. He saved thousands of people and made peace between gangs. Ten Minutes Later Carl looked behind as he pulled into the cemetery. A white Stretch was following him. He stopped his car and got out to see why the vehicle was following him. Three men got out as Carl walked near. “Are you Carl Johnson?” one of them asked. “Yeah, who’s asking?” Carl asked suspiciously. “Tommy Vercetti. I from Vice—” “Yeah, I know who you are. A lot **** you caused there I hear. Why are you following me?” Carl scratched behind his neck. “Carl, I’m a man of business. I see San Andreas not only as a piece of **** place, but a place where opportunities arise. I could make millions from the place… and do you know who stands in my way?” Tommy asked. “Who?” Carl asked as sweat began to roll down his face. “You. You’re a fighter, as we all know, and you’re my only threat.” The two men next to Tommy took out their weapons—both of them had MP5s. Tommy then whistled and said: “Come out, sweetie.” Carl’s jaw dropped as Millie came out of the limo. “Millie, but, why?” Carl asked. “You’re a ****y, Carl. You don’t have any balls.” Millie laughed. “Ok, look you little *****…” Carl was interrupted by Millie: “Carl, I’m sorry. But with the money he’s giving me, I can finally buy a studio. I can make all the movies I want with my friends—you’ve seen my house. And plus, Tommy’s **** is way bigger than yours.” ”That’s right sweetie. But wait, did you really think I’d pay you?” Tommy took out a .357 and aimed it at Millie’s head. “What the hell—” BAM! The bullet went right through her head and hit a street light. This was Carl’s chance. Carl kicked Tommy down and as fast as he could, he pushed the two men down and took one of their guns. Gang members from all around came to aid Carl in this gunfight. Bullets were flying everywhere; Carl got hit in the stomach but had a bulletproof vest on. Tommy Vercetti was hit once and then he jumped in the Stretch and the driver took off. The limo must’ve been armored or something because the bullets didn’t hit the driver when shot at. Carl left before the police arrived. Two Hours Later; Carl’s home Carl turned on the TV. “Earlier today a gunfight occurred in Los Santos. Eleven people were killed in it and both the main suspects got away…” “Damn, Millie… why?” Carl asked himself. “Sweet, man, I love you… I think I wanna come home now. I’ll meet you on Mount Chilliad pretty soon…” He always said that when he was depressed… but this time, he meant it. Vercetti Estate; Vice City, Florida—Thee Hours Later “Phil, I need you to get all of the guys you can get and all the weapons you can get.” Tommy demanded to Phil Cassidy—an old friend who saved his ass tons of times and vice versa. “Sure Tommy, I can get you anything, HIHAHA! But what for?” Phil asked. “Do you see this?” Tommy pointed to San Andreas on a map. “Uh-huh.” Phil nodded his head. “This is our new location: San Andreas!” Phil laughed real hard and walked away. “And hurry up you one-armed bastard!” Tommy yelled sarcastically. Tommy picked up his phone asked flipped through his book where he kept phone numbers. He found and dialed the number for a friend in Liberty City. “Hello?” The voice asked. “Gregory, it’s Tommy Vercetti. I need you to do something for me.” “Hey Tommy, sure; anything you want.” Gregory replied. “I need you to come down to my place with five guys to watch over the town; you remember where it is, right?” Tommy asked. “Yeah, Starfish Island, right?” “Yeah, that’s it.” “What for?” The voice asked in a serious voice. “It’s a business trip I have to go on. I need you to fly down here in two weeks; there will be five thousand for each of you guys.” “Hey, thanks Tommy. Well, I’ve got to go. See you later.” “See you, Greg.” Tommy hung the phone up.
  3. Hello, my name is Jason and I have been a GTA fan since I first started playing back when I was like eight (I started off too late but I was young... yeah). GTA has been my favorite series in video games for years.
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