“The kid from the corner”
"How can I change the path that I'm on, this is my destiny."- Claude Speed
|Voice Actors||In-game Characters|
|Robert Patrick||Claude Speed|
|Denzel Washington||Jizzy B|
|Kurt Russell||Dirty Joe|
Part 1: Revenge from the dust
“How long have we been sitting here for,” a voice streamed out of a dark cave. The voice is followed by a few coughs. “I’m talking to you, how long we have been here for,”there is a short pause, “I lost track of time,” the voice streamed out from the cave into the open edge of the mountainside. “I think the kids passed out, great,” said another voice; this one, more sturdy. Two figures merged out of the mountain side and they both stomped out their joint. Sun flares radiated the morning light, as they looked over San Fierro. “Champ, go get the kid,” one of the teenagers demanded. Champ disappeared back into the mouth of the cave, and soon appeared again pulling a limp body of a wasted teen, “Speed won’t know what hit him when he wakes up,” the other kid laughed, “Jack, don’t be so cocky, just put him in the trunk,” Jack rolls his eyes to Champ and throws him into the boot of the car. “You here about the guy who got lost up here on Chiliad a few years ago,” Champ asked, “You talk sh*t, now get..” he is interrupted as Champ shaked his friend and screamed to jolt the boy. Jack spun around and punched Champ in the nose, “Don’t play like that, now let’s get outta’ here,” the car is gone, out of sight and the rest is dead silence, and the smell of marijuana glided through the haze of the mountain.
The boy they kidnapped, lay tied down in what seemed to be an old docking yard. It was a docking house, a warehouse. Speed struggled to pull free, but before he could attempt, the two boys stand behind him. Both armed with metal baseball bats and a lethal grin. “People tell us that you are easy to manipulate,” one of the guys said. Champ threw the bat over his shoulder, only to return and hit Speed in the chest. He moaned in pain but stayed calm. “What, don’t you like some roughing up Claude, huh?” Jack asked with a hint of sarcasm, then spiting on Claude. One of the kids dropped the bat, “You know, if you had any brains, you wouldn’t have killed our dog,” Champ yelled, kicking the side of his head. They both walked off, and went away for a long time. To Claude, it felt like days, but was only a few hours. While he was tied to the fall, he decided an escape plan to kill these bastards. First, he needed to know where he was, which was difficult to tell, considering San Fierro had over twenty boat yards all over the city. As he sat there, he remembered why they wanted to kill him, torture him. It was Chinese New Years in China town, and everyone had come to watch the parades. Fireworks lit up the night sky, dragon floats and free food was given to spectators. Jack stood on the corner of Nutshell Drive holding his dog, amused as he watched the firework go off. Claude was taken from the crowd of people to let off a firework, and as he did, it lost control, and flew straight towards Jack and his small dog. It exploded it Jacks face, that’s the reason for the burnt skin all over his body, mostly his face. The dog was taken to the emergency vet room immediately but was soon put down as too much suffering. Claude had nothing against the dog; he thought it was nice that a douche like Jack would have such a nice dog. Before this had all happened though, Jack and Claude were close friends. Claude was there when they bought his friends dog. Too many overwhelming thoughts rushed into Claude’s head, and all he could think of was Jack and Claude, in the back of the car on the way to Bayside Dog Pound. That’s it, thought Claude. Bayside, Claude was tied up in Bayside docking yard. There was a reason they tied him up here; ever since a yacht was blown into the entrance of the docking yard, it would fill up with water on high tide. “Damn it,” Claude muttered. He laid there for a little longer, hoping someone would find him.
"We walk, and talk, socialize, grow and move towards our true freedom, our destiny"
Part 2: A Fisherman's Friend
Water washed against the leakage on the boating yard; he could feel the water soaking on his worn sneakers. It became extremely uncomfortable for Claude, it was like a mosquito bite that you keep itching and then becomes infected. Claude called out, “Jesus, please, help!” and as soon as he spoken up, the yard doors swung open. A tall looking man busted in, holding a small bucket filled with fish bait, he guessed. “Wat doe je in mijn tuin, je?” the man yelled, “Some scum’s tied me up here in this dump!” Claude called, “Dit is geen dump je kind, hoe kom je hier in?”the man screamed at the boy, ‘He must be thanking me for calling out,’ Speed thought happily. The fisherman ran over and slits down into an escalated ledge and begins to untie him. As soon as he is free handed, he pushed the man to a side and rashed out of the yard, into another courtyard outside. Jack and Champ stand guarding the gate nearby the road, unaware that the owner in active. He softly chuckled and opened the gate, and it squeaked... the two boys turned and flee. It is soon a chase across the Bay town, through alleys, over fences.
In Bayside, all the laneways connected to town centre, which is the Church. He navigated his way around them, and knows he’ll catch them before they reach the crowds of sight-seers. With Claude’s Speediness, he reached Town Centre before his victims. He raced into the fifth alley, to see Champ staring into the opposite direction to expect to see their voodoo. Claude passesd himself towards Champ and punched him the head and knocked him to the ground. He covered the boys mouth, so he couldn’t of called out. He spotted an object that had fallen from Champ’s pocket... a pistol. He had taken his hand away from the boy’s mouth and aimed the pistol towards his face, “If you say anything... trust me, it will be your last,” Speed said, unsure of what he said. The sun settled in the background which shined over the mountainside and reflected from the Church, behind him. (O Mio Babbino Caro plays in the background) “Please... please, don’t, don’t shoot,” the poor kid sobed, he scrunched his face. Boom ... smoke flared from the end of the pistol.
“Mr. Speed, please turn to your right,” a detective police officer asked Claude through a microphone. ‘They say I’ll be in here for 17 years,’
"We seek for that total power, but with that, comes anger, great anger, but everyone ends up insane"
Part 3: 17 Years too long
Claude sits hunched over at the very end of an interrogation table, “So, why did you did it, huh?” an investigative cop asked, quickly snapping back the cap of his lighter and cupping his hand, to light it. There is no answer, no reply, just the tapping of the ceiling ducts. The cop sighs, “Look, I’ll tell you what, if you give me a simple reply of why you did this, I’ll let you first to the cafeteria,” but Claude ignores him and stares onto the table in front of him, arms crossed. The door opens and a sheriff walks in and nods his head at the cop, “Times up,” he says to the young police officer, “He ain’t talking,” the younger police officer said. Two guards are lead into the room to take Claude to the lunch area.
He sits down after placing small pieces of pumpkin placed on his plate and a slice of bread. The area is filled with crooks from all over the state. Claude realised he is sitting next to Dirty Joe, an ex-bikie member of ‘The Serpent Suckers’. “What you in here for kiddo,” the man asked, sniffing at the pumpkins, “Long story short, I killed a rat,” Claude replied, taking a bite out of his bread, Joe laughed, “I killed a rat when I was younger, it kept eating the food in our pantry," A few other guys seemed to admire the words of Dirty Joe, as they laughed along with him, “You know fella’s, the next person to be released from this hole should take a ride South of here, there is a garage owned by Keith,” Joe said, the whole room suddenly feel quiet, “What did he just say,” small voices mumbled, “Keith Elam...” another voice stumbled, Dirty Joe cleared his voice, “8-Ball or something, one of his garages,” soon, the cafeteria went back to chatting and ranting, "He won't be town for long, he is heading back to Liberty in a few weeks, you see, he owns garages all over the U.S, and the special thing is, he just doesn't fix cars, well, he does..."He lowers his voice, “By fixing them...” he pauses, “Do you mean, rigging with explosives,” Dirty Joe turned to look and grinned, followed by a chuckle. “What’s your name kid,” Joe asks, rubbing his beard, Claude pause again, he hesitates, and he stops, he stops thinking, and talking, ‘a future as a criminal, shooting as a hobby, killing as a job, living in the fast lane, racking in the big money, driving expensive cars, trash talking anyone I want, anywhere’ he changes his words around, and thinks, and says, “Claude, speed,” a guy calls from across the table, “Claude, as in the French, Claude Debussy?” but before Claude can reply, the prison bell screams, alarming them to move back to their cells, “But Claude, if you get out of here in the next week, you see really go check out that garage” they are ushered back to their cells without any fights.
That night, he sat in his bunk, staring at the ceiling, fiddling with his thumbs, pondering. His thoughts indulged his mind, ‘Once I get out, I’m going to fix myself up, by a nice house, you know, get a decent job, and check out 8... 8-ball and...” his thoughts were stopped by yelling echoing down from the hall, “I swear, you guys, I haven’t killed anyone!” the moonlight seeps through the small holes in the bricking and flattens onto the floor beside the bed. The door opens, and a limp body falls into the floor, Claude looks down, surprised, a cell buddy, ‘this’d be good’. “Goodnight ladies,” a guard jokes, as he slowly walks off, whistling. The man on the floor sobs for a while and notices Claude, “Jesus, I didn’t see you there,” the man whimpers, “Jesus had nothing to do with this,” Claude says, the man seems embarrassed, “They think I killed my family, what liars,” he clampers onto the cell bars and lets out a big moan. Claude looks closer at the upset and disturbed man, “Wait a second, are you...” the man interrupts him, “Yes, Jizzy B,” he wonders why he was suspected of killing his family, “I was set up, big time,” he cries. Claude stares down at Jizzy B, ‘I have heard I am easy to manipulate, let’s see what we can get out of this prick,’.
"Life has it's highs and lows, but sometimes the lows come first, when we mistake them for highs"
Part 4: We Are All Insane...
Los Santos Police Station, 10:35PM, San Andreas Department of Criminal Act Record
A light radiates from the 12th floor of the LS Police station, glooming over the nearby neighbourhood. In that crammed office room, sits an unsettling figure, hunching over a table and slowly breathing. He turns from the table, then smears out his cigarette in its tray. He swings back into place and rubs his hands through his hair; the officer forces himself to pay attention to the sheet of documents in front of him. He seems too tired to care about this case, but decides to continue to keep his eyes open. He narrows his eyes down to the paper, grabs a pen from his shirt pocket and signs his signature on the bottom of the file, ‘Jim Hernandez’, and following that, he signs the date and begins to read the Criminal Act Record:
“Street gangster and the leader of ‘The Eagle pups,’ of San Fierro, Jeremy Bedford, (also known as Jizzy B) was arrested late last night after cases of murder. Jeremy was under the influence and is accused of murdering his wife and daughter, before making his way to Palisades and passing out on a street corner. The police found him with a bleeding mouth, head injuries and a fractured wrist. Jeremy explained to authorities that he was mugged, before soon being bashed and left on the street corner.”
Jim rubs his forehead and switches on portable radio beside him, and then he focuses back onto Jizzy B’s criminal record:
| “1976, Queens, San Fierro- A gang shootout was reported to San Fierro police at 6:15PM. Once the police arrived to the scene, there were no longer any shooting. Supposed leader, Jeremy Bedford.|
1982, Esplanade North, San Fierro- A robbery was reported at Esplanade North at 2:15PM. Four armed men were seen robbing a bakery. By-slanders physically tried to stop one of the robbers, but was shot and killed. The getaway vehicle was a blue Merit. Witnesses described the description of Jeremy Bedford.
1984, Santa Flora, San Fierro- At 9:15PM, authorities were reported about witnessing a brutal murder in the streets of Santa Flora. Witnesses noticed the gang leader, Jeremy Bedford as the murder. A total 28 people were killed, all by gunfire”
Jim sits back and leans over to change the station of the radio and sighs at all the document files. The door to the office room opens, and Sheriff Christopher Fleming walks in, “Sherriff, this case doesn’t make sense to me, at all,” Hernandez says, piling up the files, Fleming looks over and grins, “Bedford, they can never stop, and I hear he is in Fierro prison for the time being,” the sheriff explains, continuing to stare down at the paper, “Yes sir, that’s why I have all this paperwork, I just want to go patrol the streets, I don’t want to be jammed in this office all night, giving permission in what cases we should look further in,” Jim crosses his arms, “All good cops need to start from the bottom, and you’re lucky, this is a spot were all the officers want to be Jim, but you just don’t understand,” the older officer says, switching off the lamp, “I need to start patrolling or I will never understand the ropes”... there is a short pause, "I just want to protect you boy, now your father and I both discussed about this, and he isn’t all happy about the idea of you actually being a police officer,” he admits as he takes his hat off and places it on his chest, “You know what, I’ll give the office a call over in Fierro and tomorrow morning, I’ll send you over there for the ‘Jizzy B’ case,” he smiles, Hernandez looks up from his table with a sign of surprise, “You actually mean it Chris?” Jim stops, and changes his words, “I mean, Sherriff Fleming,” they both laugh and the office is soon quiet, everyone has left the station.
Los Santos, the city that never starts and never ends, always moves, always alive. The city always patrols but never falls to justice. The slick street layers of Ganton and the sleazy in Vinewood, all of the rest, living together. The early morning sun peaks over the far mountainside and glows onto the city. In all this mesh of democracy, laws and rights and economy, stands a man. The man, Jim Hernandez, stands at the far end of Los Santos police station and smiles at a police car. “It’s your big day boy, your time to shine,” a voice comes from behind him, he turns around, Sherriff Fleming waddles over to young Hernandez and passes him the keys to the car, “I talked to Fierro office just before I locked up last night and they have faxed me the files of the directions to get to the station,” Fleming also passes the faxed files over and looks down at his watch, “It’s almost eight o’clock, now run along,” he adds as he watches Jim drive out of the garage. Flemings face turns from a smile, soon to a frown and closes the garage, "I warned him... I warned him twice,".
"We are born with that shine of desire, to fit in with the world, but end up on our knees, holding our head in pain"
Part 5: Like a Bunch of Bones
The morning bell in the jail screams, to alert the prisoners to move out to the courtyard. Claude heaves his head away from the pillow and glimpse down at Jeremy, “How long will I seek to exist?” he asks Claude and climbs out of bed, Claude shrugs.
They walk into the main corridor of the prison as they pass by the all the other peeving eyes. “Well, I guess this is it,” whimpers Jeremy, “Welcome to the jungle,” jokes the guard, opening up the door at the very end of the corridor. The both of them block the sun from their eyes, but their vision soon focuses, “Play nice,” the guard adds, closing the doors behind them. Claude walks off, but Jizzy follows along, “You know man, can... can I hang with your for a while?” he asks, Claude ignores the pleading man, to see a young police officer climb out of a four-wheeled police car just outside in the parking lot, “Hey man, are you listening to me?” Jizzy yells, he grabs his attention, “I’m sure you can live without me, and I can live without you,” Claude replies, walking away. A group of men sit around a small U-shaped area in the outside courtyard, Dirty Joe, one of them, Claude approaches, “What’s up little man,” the criminal asks, he waves his hand towards the group, “There are way too many stereotypes about prisoners, you are too humble,” he says to the group, “I can be violent when I want to be but I don’t think you’d like that,” Joe jokes as he pats Claude on the back, “So who’s your little pimp friend?” he asks, “That’s the crime lord Jizzy B,” replies a man adjacent to Joe. Dirty Joe pauses and thinks, “I have been in here for twelve years now, and you expect me to know the outsiders?” the other man stares at Claude and looks back at Joe, “Sorry, he is, or was, the leader of some type of street gang but now, well, he’s here,” the man says, “And sorry but,” he reaches out his hand for a hand shake, “I haven’t gave you my name... the name’s Randy,” Dirty Joe explains, “You see, Randy is the only criminal to have worked close with a pig, so he knows his links around things,” Claude becomes intrigued, “What type of links are you talking about,” he asks Randy, “Basic profiles, criminal records, corrupted police files, it’s crazy to see so much corruption in the police academy,” he rubs his hand through his hair, “Where did your pimp buddy go?” Joe asks as he moves his eyes across the courtyard, “He isn’t my buddy, pal, whatever you like to call it, he’s a coward, he killed his family and tried to convince the police that we was mugged,” Claude spits in anger, “I hope the lord sweeps his up quickly,” he continues, “Or Lucifer,” Randy adds.
Fun fact: The San Fierro prison is located at Avispa Country Club. In 1988, it was removed and prisoners were relocated somewhere in Las Venturas.
"We abandon the ones in need, for that luxury, that peace of mind, when really, we are the ones in need of that abandonment"
Part 6: Wear, Tare and Betray
Jeremy approaches the prison door with Claude, thinking that they both hope for the best. He feels a genuine bond with the man next to him, like he’s known him for many years. Doubt fills his mind, ‘Will he accept him as a friend’ he asks himself worriedly, “You know man, can... can I hand with you for a while,” Jeremy asks, hoping for the best reply, but looking into Claude’s eyes, it seems as if he didn’t, “Hey man, are you listening to me?” he added, waving his hands in front of Claude’s face, “I’m sure you can live without me, and I can live without you,” he replied, walking off to the centre of the courtyard, “I don’t need him,” he mutters and turns towards the prison steps and sits down, “Look at him over there,” he says to himself, watching Claude sitting down with Dirty Joe, “He doesn’t need me,” a group of men beside the prison steps approach the upset man, “What you crying about wuss,” a rough looking man barks... there is a pause and Jeremy doesn’t have anything to say, “I’ll give you something to cry about,” another man says, grabbing Jeremy’s orange jumpsuit and pushes him up to a wall nearby, “If you stick around here for any longer...” the man is interrupted, “Jeremy Bedford?” a voice asks, behind the crowd of disturbed men, they all both away quickly and notice it is a cop, the police officer puts out his hand to shake his hand, “You can call me Toreno,” Jeremy is pleased and shakes his hand, “We just would like to talk with you for a bit, so, if you don’t mind,” Toreno asks and guides him out of the courtyard back into the prison house.
Part 2 of Part 6