Carl: |
It's CJ. Hey Truth, is that you? |
The Truth: |
Might be. Might be a government algorithm trying to pick your brains so don't admit anything. |
Carl: |
Whatever man. Whassup? |
The Truth: |
I need a favour Carl. Thought I could cash in some karma chips. |
The Truth: |
I took some fellow travellers deep into the desert on a peyote safari a few nights back. We faced the inner light, and communed with the lizard king. |
Carl: |
Sounds fun. How'd it go? |
The Truth: |
That's the problem, I don't know. I'm in Los Santos. I woke up in a Japanese bathhouse about an hour ago. I have no idea how I got here or where the others are. |
Carl: |
They're probably fine. |
The Truth: |
I don't think so. They were Brits - a band and their managers. They have no experience about the desert. |
Carl: |
Ok, where'd you make camp? I can go have a look. |
The Truth: |
I took 'em up Arco del Oeste - fantastic sunsets. Best start looking for them up there. |
Carl hangs up and drives to Arco del Oeste in Bone County. He looks for the band members. |
Carl: |
Hello? Hey anybody out here? Truth sent me. |
Two members of the band, Maccer and manager Kent Paul, are laid out on the ground, very dazed. Maccer hears Carl and calls out to him. |
Carl: |
Hey man. You alright? |
Maccer sits up, holding his head. |
Maccer: |
'Kin 'ell. I'm fucking hanging! |
Kent Paul also sits up, also holding his head. |
Paul: |
Stone me bloody crows. Where am I? |
Maccer: |
I dunno mate. I was having a dream; I was wanking over some fat bird's tits when this twat turned up. |
Paul angrily gets to his feet and walks over to Maccer. |
Paul: |
Maccer you fucking psycho! You did it again didn't you! |
Maccer: |
That peyote was shite. You were lucky I brought some tabs along. |
Paul: |
I've told you a million times not to put stuff in my fucking drink! |
Maccer: |
Oh, piss off, kidder! |
Paul (to Carl): |
Who are you again? |
Carl: |
Oh I'm a friend of The Truth's. He said you guys might need a ride into town or something. |
Maccer: |
But I'm a fucking raspberry! |
Paul: |
You're not a fucking raspberry! |
Maccer: |
I can't feel me legs, our P. I've wanked the use out of them. |
Paul: |
Just stand up you soppy cunt. We go through this every weekend. |
Maccer slowly gets to his feet. |
Carl: |
Man, what the hell was y'all doing last night? |
Maccer: |
Anybody got a rag? |
Carl: |
So where am I taking y'all? |
Paul: |
I've got a pal, Rosie. He's got some casino gig going down in Venturas. Sweet. |
Maccer holds his hand out to Paul. |
Carl: |
Alright ladies, let's go. |
Paul (to Maccer): |
Come on. Fucking Northerners... |
Maccer: |
Well it felt like I couldn't feel 'em, honest. |
Carl, Maccer and Paul get in Carl's car and drive away. |
Carl: |
So where's the rest of the band, guys? |
Paul: |
Maccer, where are the boys? |
Maccer: |
I don't fuckin' know, do I? I remember snakes, lots of snakes. |
Carl: |
There's a snake farm not too far from here. We can go check it out. |
Maccer (to Paul): |
You look as pale as a drowned baby, man. |
Paul: |
Oh God, I think I'm gonna chuck. |
Maccer: |
P, what you need is some food down ya. A fried egg sarnie with mayonnaise will sort it. Or what about a pickled egg? |
Paul (to Carl): |
Pull over, NOW! |
Carl stops the car and Paul gets out. He runs to the side of the car and vomits profusely before getting back in. Carl drives them to the Snake Farm just south of Verdant Meadows Airfield. |
Carl: |
Here we are. Look familiar? |
Maccer: |
Looks just like Salford to me. |
Paul: |
What are you talking about? |
Some gang members at the farm spot the trio. |
Leader: |
Take a gander at 'em fellas. Is that 'em? |
Deputy: |
That there city boy has gone and been with my prize hog! Now I don't even get no sugar from her! |
Man: |
And that one done screwed my sis! Had a terr'ble aching in my grinds ever since! |
Woman: |
I'm gonna slap you silly for giving me and my fella the red bumpies! |
Leader: |
What'n tarnation? I'm a fixing to give ya a whoopin' for what you gone and done to my young'uns! |
The gang open fire on the trio but Carl kills them. Carl, Maccer and Paul get back in Carl's car. |
Carl: |
Seems you boys had a good time. |
Maccer: |
Hey, what about the band? |
Paul: |
We'll just have to pray they've made it to civilization. Keyboardists and drummers are ten-a-penny anyway. |
Carl: |
Which casino is it? |
Paul: |
It's called Caligula's. It's on the strip somewhere, I think. |
Maccer: |
What kind of tits does this Rosie have? Big, floppy sausage tits? Empty saddlebags, or bee stings? |
Paul: |
Rosie's a man! And stop touching yourself! |
Maccer: |
It's just for comfort Pablo. This is a stressful situation, man. |
Paul: |
You're fucking telling me it is! |
Carl: |
Aw, can it, you two! |
Maccer: |
Hey, he started it! |
Carl arrives at Caligula's Casino on the Las Venturas strip and he, Paul and Maccer head inside. |
Carl: |
Shit! Here come them snake farmers! |
Carl: |
Alright, I've had enough. Let's finish this! |
Maccer: |
Oh, I'm gonna grab some big tits, man! |
Paul: |
Oh, bollocks. In for a penny, in for a pound |
Carl, Paul, and Maccer engage on the fistfight against snake farmers |
Maccer: |
Yeah, that's how we do it in Salford, man. |
Paul: |
Don't make me slap you, sunshine! |
The snake farmers are killed and the trio head inside to the Caligula's Palace) |
Paul: |
Come on then. Let's go in and see Rosie. |
Ken Rosenberg's office. Ken is lying on his couch looking very stressed. Paul knocks on the door and Ken's guard opens it. |
Paul: |
Kent Paul, here to see Rosie. |
Mike (to Ken): |
Hey boss, there's somebody here to see you. |
Ken: |
Oh go away. I have a migraine. |
Paul: |
Oi Rosie, son, it's me, Paulo! |
Ken: |
Oh God. My despair is complete. Ok, let him in. |
The guard lets Paul in. Carl and Maccer follow him. |
Paul: |
Rosiiieee! How are you, me old son? |
Ken: |
I pray that one day I can escape my perpetual torment and retire in peace and comfort a million miles away from anyone I've ever fucking known, and instead, I get this. |
Paul: |
Come on, it's me, Kent Paul. |
Ken: |
Well, hello Paul, what a pleasant surprise. (Referring to Carl and Maccer) Who the hell are these guys? |
Paul: |
These are my boys - Maccer and Carl. |
Maccer: |
You want any Speckled Doves, boss? I'm peaking on one right now. Top of the range, man. |
Ken: |
Well, it's fitting. As I sit here up to my neck in a river of shit, with every Mafia gorilla from Liberty City to Los Santos pissing in my face, that you, Kent Paul, should witness it. |
Paul: |
What's the matter son? |
Carl: |
Too numerous, oppressively insurmountable and depressingly fucking typical, even to mention. |
Paul: |
It's alright bruv, Paulo can help. (To Carl) Give us some space would you son. I'll give you a tinkle later. |
Carl heads to the door and Maccer follows him. |
Paul (to Maccer): |
Not you, Maccer. |
Carl leaves the casino. Once outside, he calls Wu Zi Mu. |
Carl: |
Hey Woozie. I think I found a way to scope Caligula's Casino without causing too much suspicion. We can talk later. |
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