RPG Bloodied Streets

[Yoda]

[I]A car pulled up outside a garage knoen as "The Scrap Heap". The engine cut out, and the door slowly opened. Out stepped a man in all black. Big black boots, a black T-shirt, a black trenchcoat, black sunglasses, and greased back hair. The man took a drag of his cigarette, and looked up at the garage, before throwing his cigarette to the floor, as he headed into the garage.

The man looked about the garage. There were several cars lined up, all with their bonnets opened and various parts missing. In the back corner of the garage was a car covered in a white sheet. The man suddenly came upon a pair of legs sticking out from the bottom of a car. The man smiled, and approached the pair of legs.

Switch: Looks like your exhaust is ruptured.

The man under the car suddenly stopped what he was doing, and was completely motionless for a minute. Then he slid out from under the car. It revealed a muscular man in blue mechanic overall's. He had scruffy brown hair with a red bandana, that had several oil stains on it. The man got up and wiped his hands on a cloth.

???: What do you want?

Switch: The boss has a job for you Scorpion. $100,000 if you win.

Craig: So, what is it?

Switch: A race....... 10 cars, 3 miles.

Craig: What, a streetrace......... that's a bit too much prize money for a street race.

Switch: Well...... it's not a street race technically.

Craig put his hand on his forehead, and covered his eyes for a moment. He knew exactly what was coming.

Craig: So........ what is it?

Switch: Burnout.

Craig: I knew it. So who else is racing?

Switch: Oh, don't worry, most of the others aren't gang members....... infact you may be the only one.

Craig smiled weakly, as he turned and walked towards the car at the back that had the shet over it. He stopped before it, and took a deep breath. He grabbed the cheet by one end, and pulled it off in an instant. Under the sheet was a perfectly polished Jaguer XJ-220, in a sliver metallic colour.

Switch: It's a beautiful machine Scorpion........ and it's got a good driver.

Craig: Looks like it's me and you again ay buddy?

Craig then turned back to Switch....... and looked sternly at him.

Craig: So, when is it?

Switch: Tonight at 6........ out on the corner of St. Charles street. There's gonna be a lot of spectators.

Craig: *Puffs* Alright.... I'm in. I gotta make a few calles now.....

Switch: Alright Scorpion, I'll leave you to it.

With that, Switch turned and walked briskly from the garage. Craig watched him until he got in his car and drove away. As soon as he was out of sight, Craig turned and punched the wall.

Craig: Burnout............ damn.[/I]

[Chaos]

[i]The Mustang GT roared down Canal Street, flying over the numberious pot-holes. The driver didn't care.. He was in his favorite part of town, the buisiness disctrict. But the Mustang suddenly spun out, three gunshots ringing through the air. The Mustang flipped twice in the air, before landing with the backside in a tree in the median.

The driver slowly opened the door, sunglasses still on even though it was around 4:30, and during Fall. The trees had already hiden the sun. The driver's head slowly turned towards the tall Radio Shack building. His .45 was drawn in a flash, [b]and a body on the roof slumped, hole straight through the head.[/b] The mysterious man suddenly bolted down the now-empty streets, as sirens blarred in the distance...[/i]


Edit: The bold part of my post is to shut Boba Fett up.

[Break]

[SIZE=1][i]Rust walked over to his usual bar for a drink. He opened the door and knew practically everyone in there, as he walked to the bartender, he gave nearly everyone he passed high-fives. When he got to the bartender, he jumped up and sat on a stool and slammed his palms against the bar.[/i]

Bartender: Yo Rust, man. Howsit goin'?

Rust: Dude, it's cool. I'll have the usual.

Bartender: Comin' right at ya.

[i]The bartender waddled off to the other end behind the bar and fiddled with some bottles whilst Rust could hear some people talking about a Burnout. He didn't recognise the people's faces, but they looked pretty tough. It wasn't long after that when the bartender waddled up to Rust again with a blue coloured, foul-smelling drink in a tall glass.[/i]

Rust: Thanks bro.

Bartender: Anytime.

Rust: Who are those guys over there? [i]Rust pointed to where he was looking earliet.[/i]

Bartender: Ahh, they're gang members. I forget which gang 'sactly, but don't get involved with them or any of their dealings. Just stay free-lance.

Rust: But they were talking about a Bur--

Bartender: Don't enter! Y'all get ya self killed!

Rust: Calm it, I can take care of it.

Bartender: [i]He sighs.[/i] Oh well, if ya get ya self killed, don' blame me.

Rust: ... When is it?

Bartender: Tonight at 6, Charlton Street. 'Spose there'll be a crowd.

Rust: Oh definately!

Bartender: You gonna drink ya "Bluey"?

Rust: I almost forgot...

[i]Rust picked up the tall glass and downed the drink quickly. He slammed the glass on the bar and wiped his mouth.[/i]

Rust: Ahh... good stuff. I'll be goin' now.

Bartender: Seeya dude, good luck in the Burnout.

Rust: Yeh, thanks.

[i]Rust got up and left the bar, after giving many high-fives. At the door he kicked the floor. He didn't ask what the prize money was, no matter.

He jaywalked across the road to his Lotus Elise and vaulted over the door and started the engine, roaring, then he tore down the road to Charlton Street...[/i][/SIZE]

[Chaos]

[QUOTE][i]Originally posted by Boba Fett [/i]
[B]Abob fell over as the man in the car shot him in the chest. Luckily he had put on a set of bulletproof armor that he had "borrowed" from a dead police officer.

Abob jumped up and fled into the darkness back to his pickup truck.

When he returned to his seedy apartment building he passed some overweight hookers at the entrance and climbed the stairs to his room.

He showered then read over the contract he had recived , along with 20,000 dollars for his last hit job. The new hit job was for a gangster in a burnout race, some other gang didnt want him to finish alive.

Abob grinned and got into bed, and turned on his stolen TV to watch the news while he ate dinner, steak and potatos. [/B][/QUOTE]


That's it. Get out. As the co-creator of this RPG, I'm asking you nicely to get out. For one point, I shot the f*cker in the HEAD. Another point is that the person was a member of the Daggers. This IS a gang-war RPG. And besides, you're incredibly cheap. Make sure you NEVER join one of my RPGs...

[Guest QuickSilver]

In a distinct part of the town there was a man on his knees pleading for his life inside a remote and abandend factory. Tied up and gagged, he could do nothing but wait to see what was going to be done to him. Two woman walked up to the helpless man, took the blindfold off him and took the piece of cloth from out of his mouth. The man looked up to the guy who was over shadowing him, and wimpered for his life.

Seifer: I am a nice guy really but when you do something bad to me, thats when you get on my bad side.

guy: What did i do

Seifer: You cheated me out of drugs.

Guy: But i didnt

Seifer: Do i look like a fool to you

Guy: *puts head down* no

Seifer: LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU.

The guy raised his head, only to have it struck by Seifer's hand. The guy then fell flat onto his face spewing up blood the guy staggered back onto his knees.

Seifer: Give me one good reason why i shouldnt kill you right now.

Guy: I can pay you.

Seifer: no you cant, i have two of my best men heading for your house right as we speak, so in other words you are useless to me.

Seifer then pulled out his Uzi, and lowered it to the level of the guys head.

Guy: but...

The man stopped suddenly, noticing the anger in Seifer's eyes. He pressed the gun upto the man's head. The man gulped, pure fear displaying in his eyes. Seifer pulled the trigger. The shot echoed throughout the factory, as the man's head cocked back violently, blood rocketing out of the exit wound. The man's body went limp, as his already deceased body started chocking on the blood that flowed up through his gullet, out of his mouth. The corpse fell forward, the head smacking against the floor at Seifer's feet, as he calmly put the Uzi back in it's holster, smirking.

Woman: what shall we do with the body.

Seifer: burn it, bury it, your choice

Seifer then walked off into a back room as, Two women dragged the body off to be disposed

[Andrew]

The strangly quiet street of Redford was quickly made noisy again by the sound of a Dodge GTS burning down it. It sparkled with it's blue tint as it zoomed round a corner. It stopped next to a garage. The door to the car opened and a man stepped out. He looked at the place and then walked in. He noticed the silver car in the corner and wondered why there was no-one here watching over such an expensive piece of machinery.

???: Anybody home...

From the back room the came a faint call and then Scorpion walked out.

Scorpion: Wha'sup?

Predator: Ain't seen you in a long time brother.

The two walked towards eachother and clasped hadns together doing one of those crazy Gangster hand shake thingies.

Predator: I heard 'bout your Burnout tonight....

Scorpion: Yeah...

Predator: Why'd you accept?

Scorpion: for the money I guess.......

Predator: Is that the real reason?

Scorpion: No....... but I don't wanna talk about it.

Predator: Fair enough...

Scorpion: You still a free lance assassin?

Predator: Nope. I've moved up in the world. I'm a rich man now. I'm paid a fortune for my computer hacking skills and the illegal programmes I can obtain.

Scorpion: What you doin' in this part a' town?

Predator: New 'work'.......... You got a place for me to crash?

Scorpion: I don't see why you can't stay here, help me watch the place too.

Predator: ok

[Yoda]

[I]Craig: Well, I gotta get changed and get ready for the race........ you can either watch the shop..... or you can come watch the race........

Andrew: I'll come watch the race I think.....

Craig: I guessed. Well lets get going to my place, I gotta get changed. Just follow me...... if you can keep up.

Craig then quickly removed his overall's, revealing some jogging pants and an old black t-shirt. He threw the overall's onto a table where some tools lay, and he went over to his car. He took the key from around his neck, and inserted it into the lock. The door slid open smoothly, revealing polished, perfectly smooth leather seats.

Craig climbed in, as Andrew went off to get in his Dodge. He started up the engine, it roared proudly. Craig dipped the clutch and rolled the gearstick into first, and then stormed out of the garage. He stopped just outside the entrance, and locked up the garage. Then he got back in the car, and sped off again. He sped round a corner, Andrew barely able to keep up.

Andrew: Damn that guy's fast.

Within minutes Craig had arived at his apartment. Andrew managing to find it mostly out of pure luck.......... Craig had to much on his mind to abide the traffic laws. Andrew's Dodge pulled up next to Craig's Jaguar.

Craig led Andrew into the building and up a set of stairs. He led him down the hallway at the 6th floor, and opened a door. They appeared in Craig's apartment.[/I]

[Flash]

[I]A massive Black hummer pulls up next to a couple of Gang members... These punks are only rookies, each holding their .45's very nervously... Their hands begin to shake as the door to the hummer opens up, and Prince steps out... He smirks at the rookies, and looks down at them... They look back up, trying to show no sign of fear, but it's not working. It's clear to see that they're both trembling, highly intimidated Prince... He grins at them...[/I]

Prince: So what are you supposed be? Gangsters?

Rookie: Hey man, don't make me get crazy with you!

Prince: [I]Great... Just great... I got a couple of Trigger-happy Crackhead punks on my hands...[/I]

Rookie 2: Yeah man, you don't wanna do nothing stupid, eh?

Prince: Listen up. You two punks better get the hell outta my Turf, before I get crazy, you copy?

Rookie: Oh man, you just went and did somethin' stupid...

[I]The Rookie points his gun at Prince, holding it with both hands, shaking... Prince looks down the barrel and smiles. He knows that this guy's too chicken to shoot.[/I]

Prince: Come on, kid. Pull the trigger.

[I]The Rookie begins to sweat, his finger pressing against the trigger. He freezes up, paralyzed with fear... Prince smacks his wrist with the back of his hand, cracking it, and letting the gun fall to the ground... The rookie drops, clutching his broken hand... His friend raises his gun, but is swiftly knocked to the ground, elbowed in the stomach by Prince... He passes out, winded, and lands hard on the concrete... Prince picks up the guns, and looks at them... Both without clips...[/I]

Prince: Kids these days...

[I]Prince walks back to his hummer, and throws the guns in the back. They land in a pile of firearms, filling up the entire back of the Hummer... Prince wasn't known as the biggest supplier of arms in the city for nothing... He revs his Hummer, and drives off...[/I]