Give feedback/analyse or whatever it's called Thanks.
Blue waves crashed against the bloodstained, sandy beaches of Blain County, Los Santos where a stereotypically white trash male sat on a deck chair. He took a sip from the jug of beer in his left hand. The sky began to fade into darkness with fork lightning striking around him where various blood covered bodies lay. The man payed no attention to them and continued to drink the beer as the soothing sound of sirens and the blue and red flashing lights patrolled nearby searching for the "relapsing, psychotic, mass murdering..." they could go on forever, the guy really was a infamously unhinged mess.
Not that he cared, not about whole police force hunting him down, or about the family that he never had. Nothing bothered him, he'd seen some seriously f*cked up things, and worst of all, he'd done most of them himself. The man really was a monster,though it wasn't always like that. Once, he had a conscience but it disappeared as he thrived for action. He'd got a high-paying job as a pilot after the war. Soon after he found his brother, Michael, and began to take part in various crimes with him.
The man smirked as the sirens became louder and the lights came closer. He took one last sip of the beer and stood up, rubbing his hands down his white tanktop. His face was complex, he had a receeding hairline and a mole on the side of his cheek. He took a step forward with his hands on his head.
A police car stopped just a few meters away and a tanned female police officer dashed over. The man laughed and tried to keep a straight face.
"Trevor Phillips, I'm arresting you on suspicions of mass murder, gang violence, slander, assault... f*ck this, I don't have a whole hour to go through this. I'm taking you straight to maximum security prison," The police officer muttered through her thick mexican accent.
Trevor began to laugh again and rolled around on the floor hysterically giggling. The woman frowned and stepped closer to him, he regained his balance and stood back up.
"Officer Vasquez? This is too much, I'm so f*cking done! Shouldn't you be arresting drunk teenagers and washed up celebrities? I think you should," Trevor chuckled.
"That is enough, Mr Philiips, get in the car!"
"Gonna make me lady?"
"I won't ask again!"
"Go before I stick my dick through your doughnuts, pig."
"You asked for it," Vasquez stated as she took a taser out of her jacket pocket and shot Trevor in the crotch.
"Whoaaaa, what a rush," Trevor squealed.
Vasquez ripped the walkie-talkie off her belt and shouted into it "I'm gonna need some back up here quick! The suspect is dangerous and is resisting arrest, I lost my handcuffs,"
Trevor creeps up to Vasquez and puts his mouth next to her ear.
"I was told never to hit a girl, but I wasn't told not to headbutt one," Trevor stated as his head collised with Vasquez's.
Trevor dashed through to the sand and entered the driver's seat of the car, he sped away with the other police cars in pursuit.
Edited by Vice President, 01 August 2013 - 04:52 PM.