The Right to Remain Silent

It wasn't meant to go down this way.

Just, think of my situation for a moment. Robber. Clichéd background. Daddy was mean to me, mummy hit the bottle, that ends up turning me into a crim and…yeah, bet you heard this before didn't ya? Well, suck it. My story. My rules.

So, anyway, there we were, making a hit on a pay delivery van. Straight in, straight out. Nowhere in the fucking mission description did it say we'd be using weapons that were straight out of a bloody war. Nowhere did it say that the entire LAP-fucking-D would be on our fucking tail (yeah, I'll lay of the swearing). Nowhere did it say…well, you get the picture. And yeah, I know…Murphy's fucking (I lied) Law, the saying that "no plan survives contact with the enemy," the…well, you get the point. Which is that the heist became FUBAR faster than a police bike. Which I'm guessing is the fastest vehicle in this little analogy, but I suppose that's academic.

So yeah, there we are. For some reason the police are using rocket launchers of all things, and we're forced to proceed on foot with our loot. LA is quite bereft of vehicles and law-abiding citizens for some reason. Almost as if the entire city was sucked into a game engine. But…well, yeah. Luckily we get some vehicles, and unluckily, we have to deal with a police chopper. I'd feel flattered that the blues are going to all this trouble for our gang if they weren't trying to kill us. Then again, we did destroy half a block in our little heist. Suppose there's that. Maybe there's a Guinness World Record for most collateral. But anyway, car crashes, and I'm forced to proceed on foot. Again.

Did I mention that Guinness record? Because before long I'm firing machine guns mounted on car, that ends up downing that chopper, that ends up downing a crane, that ends up tearing through half a building. I'd take time to take in the sights, but there's that little problem of the police wanting to kill me. Can't say I blame 'em.

So, anyway, enter an apartment building, but there's a fucking sniper. Keep running, keep panting, keep hoping it's all worth it. We reach the roof, zip line to another building, and find our own copter plus more blues waiting for us. Dicks. Anyway, I get in the copter (we can afford a copter but we need cash?) take off…and then my pilot's shot and I'm forced to bail out. Can't catch a break. Did take a parachute with me for some reason though, as if I knew this would happen. Maybe it's a game mechanic thing.

Oh yeah. Game mechanics. Fourth wall. Deal with it.

So, end of the story. Police surround me, police grab me, police surround me, and declare that I have the right to remain silent.

What, you expecting me to talk? I'm a silent protagonist.

…dicks.