Build Up Your Gang Remix

[Ciabatta]

Sindacco Family: Bitch'N Dog Food

 

Chapter 2: Finishing The Job

 

-BANG-

 

The gun shot brought everyone to a stand still as it resonated throughout the factory. Rachel was still alive, looking up at Steve, who had the gun pointed to the ceiling. Steve kicked Rachel in the back, she let out another silenced cry for help. Steve then cocked the hammer back again, this time pointing the gun at Rachel. He had his finger on the trigger, Rachel was squirming on the ground, trying to free herself from the duct tape that bound her arms together.

 

"No," Steve said, he pulled the gun away from her head. "I won't let you have the satisfaction. You win if I pull the trigger."

 

Steve reached down and picked his near ex-spouse up by the arm. He stood her up right and then pushed her towards Frankie and Paul. Rachel was ready to fall face first, that's one Paul caught her. He forced her on her feet and about faced her towards Steve. Steve was pacing back and forth, talking to himself. He was waving the gun every which way; the safety was off.

 

Frankie and Paul knew that Steve was a little crazy at times. He was always on the edge taking pills to ease the pain. Sometimes the pills wouldn't work and during those times, he'd lose his mind. This was one of those times where the pills didn't work. Steve was going crazy, battling himself in conversation.

 

"What should we do with her?" Steve asked his psychotic evil-twin who paced back and forth beside him.

 

"Beat her." The psycho told him.

 

"Yeah, beat her." Steve said to himself.

 

"Beat her with the gun. Bash her head in, pounding her repeatedly. Over and over again." The psycho told him.

 

Steve looked at his gun and then looked over at Rachel, who was now crying. That's when Steve noticed that Frankie and Paul were there, a fact he dismissed after he shot the ceiling. He had forgotten that they were ever there at that point.

 

Steve stopped for a minuted and looked at the man.

 

"Okay," Steve said to the psycho. "We'll do it your way."

 

Frankie and Paul were staring at Steve as he started to walk toward them. Steve was so full of malice toward Rachel that as soon as he reached the two, he spit in her face.

 

"Whore." Steve told her; the saliva slid down her nose.

 

Rachel began to cry, small, transparent beads fell from her eyes. Steve ignored her sobbing. He knew if he let her go she would do it again. He couldn't let her get away with what she did.

 

"Hit her." The psycho crept up behind Steve and whispered in his ear.

 

Steve pulled his fist back and then launched it towards Rachel's face. The impact was so great that she flew back towards the ground, the tears emmitting into the atmosphere. She hit the ground hard, with nothing but her spine and the back of her head to break her fall. She had a small cut above the eye from the punch. Blood was beginning to run down her eye.

 

"Gimme your gun." To Rachel, Steve's voice was distant and muffled. She was beginning to faint.

 

Paul handed Steve his pistol. From there, Steve went to work on the rest of Rachel's face.

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Paul grabbed the door handle to his Greenwood and pulled, the door swung open. Paul got inside and sat behind the wheel of the Greenwood. He took his car keys and placed them inside the ignition. Paul looked through the car window; Frankie was running towards the car. Frankie seemed somewhat drenched from the continual rain that fell from the heavens above. Within a quick flash of lightning, Frankie was inside the car; thunder followed him within.

 

"So, you up for a beer?" Paul asked Frankie as he closed the passenger's side door. Small drops of rain fell from the arm rest.

 

"No. I'll be fine. I'm pretty sure it's last call anyways." Frankie told Paul.

 

Paul looked at the clock on his dashboard. The time was now 2:00. Their job had taken them from 12:30 to 2:00 a.m. to complete.

 

"Greasy Joe's is still servin'. Let's just head over there for a quick beer." Paul said, trying to convince Frankie to go with him.

 

Frankie sighed. "Alright, let's go."

 

"What?"

 

"What?" Frankie said right back.

 

"What the f*ck was that?" Paul sighed, mocking Frankie.

 

"I told you I didn't want to go."

 

"It's a quick f*ckin' beer, Frankie. We'll be in and out in no time. Don't f*ckin' gimme that sh*t. I'm tryin' to take the pressure off of yous."

 

"There's no pressure, Paulie."

 

"The f*ck there's not. Everytime we get done doin' a job, you look like you've just had a gun pointed to ya head. Wha's da matter? You can't take a little blood."

 

"A little? The f*ck Paulie the first guy looked like a maple tree bein' pumped for f*ckin' syrup. Then, you and Steve f*ckin' threw Rachel and that momo in the grinder!" Frankie yelled.

 

"If you don't want to do that kinda sh*t, don't come." Paul placed his hand on the key in the ignition and turned it to the right, bringing the engine to life. The headlights immeadiatley turned on and sheded a light on the rain drops as they fell onto the already wet concrete.

 

To Be Continued...

[GTAFool12]

Also SloSten you owe me $105 for the week's worth of cash flow my marijuanna farm made.

[Ciabatta]

Sindacco Family: Bitch'N Dog Food

 

Chapter 3: Internal Affairs

 

 

The wrath of the clouds began to wear off, the hard rain began to turn into a drizzle. The soaked Greenwood pulled into Greasy Joe's Diner, a 24-hour truck stop that served as a diner as well as a bar. The diner was dirty and so were the scum who went inside. Nasty redneck truck drivers who hadn't showered for days because of their long, continual trips to bring industrial products cross-country. Underage teens came to the bar for the fact that it was one of the only bars in town who said they checked ID yet they didn't. If you were taller than the bar, you were of age. Prostitutes, drug pushers, bikers, all of them were regulars to this pit-stop to hell.

 

The Greenwood stopped in a parking space situated at the front of the diner. The sedan was the fourth car situated outside of Greasy Joe's. The other three vehicles were a big rig truck, a Moonbeam, and a Blista Compact. It was clear to the naked eye, the place was not that busy. Well, a lot of local businesses weren't that busy at 2 in the morning.

 

Paul turned the keys to the left and the car cut off. He looked at the diner and then looked at Frankie.

 

"I'm sorry Frank I yelled at ya Frank. Let's just go in and have one beer." Paul told him, remorse was in his eyes.

 

"Alright. Maybe I'll catch a game on one of the T.V.'s." Frank opened his car door, Paul followed. The two were greeted by the smell of tobacco as they walked into the seedy diner. At the bar before them, sat two people. One was a large, bulky man whose neck folded into several different rolls of flesh as he leaned on the counter. The other was a woman, a cigarette dangling from her mouth. She had curly, bleach blonde hair, cheap silicon implants that were the size of all of Liberty City, cheap lipstick that slid off into oblivion at the corners of her mouth, and a cheap outift from Binco's that was already torn and tattered.

 

Frankie and Paul walked towards the far left of the bar, not to get close to the two pieces of garbage who sat in their prescence. On the otherside of the diner sat a group of teenagers, with beers and hands and greasy hamburgers and french fries before them. There were two guys and three girls sitting at the table. All of them in a drunken, obnoxious stuper. They were throwing fries at each other in a childlike manner. They stopped when they saw the two wiseguys walk into the bar.

 

"Look...Look. Look at those two." One teenager said under his breath which smelled of cheap beer.

 

"Who? The ones at the bar?" A drunken teen asked. His vision was distorted.

 

"These two fags who just walked in." One of the intoxicated girls told him.

 

Paul heard the whispers of the teens sitting at the far corner of the bar. Their idea of humor was anything but funny to him. But hey, he thought to himself, what the f*ck do they know? They're just a couple of teens. Frankie took a seat at the bar while Paul stood.

 

"Ha.Hahaha. FAGS!" A drunken teen screamed out from across the room. The commotion had got the attention of the bar patrons. Frankie and Paul looked at the five teens, who were now all laughing at the mindless joke. Paul decided to have some fun with the quintet.

 

"What the f*ck is your problem?!" Paul yelled back. The kids stopped their laughing little by little as they acknowledged Paul's shout.

 

"I don't have a problem!" The teen shouted back.

 

"What? You think me and him are fags? You got your information f*cked up over there buddy. In fact, I think you and your buddy over there are fags." Paul talked about the two males of the teenage group.

 

"Who? Who? Me and him?" The teen pointed to his friend.

 

"That's right buddy, you and Boy George over there. You got three broads hangin' out wit yous twos, I'd say you two were shopping with them right before you came to the bar."

 

"I think you got your information f*cked up, buddy. Me and him don't do that sh*t."

 

"Then what do you guys do jerk each other off?"

 

"Excuse me?" The teen stood up from the table.

 

"You heard me, if you guys aren't packing your sh*t are you two jerking each other off?" Paul repeated once more.

 

The teen made his way over to Paul. The teen's body was swaying side-to-side as he made his way over to the two. Paul was quick to take his .45 from his waistband and point it at the drunk. The teen was quick to back up.

 

"Whoa man. Whoa! Alright." The teen backed himself towards the table.

 

"That's right homo back the f*ck up. Go sit with your friends and if you don't mind, me and my buddy would like a couple of drinks while we're here." Everyone in the room had their undivided attention towards the man with the gun. The bald, bulky man had his eyes wide with fear, not knowing what the man was about to do. The trailer-trash woman placed her purse on the table and started to frantically search for her wallet. The bartender had his hands in the air; his hand still grasped a white linen cloth that he was using to clean the bar.

 

As soon as the teen sat back down, Paul placed the .45 inside the waistband of his pants once more. "Calm down, people. Calm down. I'm not here to rob the joint or nothin', just teachin' that kid not to f*ck with strangers." Paulie shouted throughout the diner. The bartender, the bulky bald, and the trailer-trash woman started chuckling in a faint tones; the teenagers were still horrified. Paul sat down at the bar next to Frankie, Frankie's cold stare pierced right through him.

 

"Bartender, give me and the schmuck over here two beers." Paul said to the man.

 

"What kind?" The bartender know had his hands at his side, although he was somewhat cautious of the man.

 

"Do you have Logger?" Paul asked.

 

"Yes sir." The bartender replied, his voice was somewhat trembling.

 

"Bag those puppies up in a brown bag. How much?"

 

"It's on the house." The bartender told Paul, the man was scared stiff of having Paul pay for his beer. Even though, Paul and Frankie did not come to rob the place, they got some free beers anyway.

 

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Steve Venuto was in shock over what he had done. He was standing in front of a open can of Bitch'N Dog Food, a can which had been filled with concoction of body parts, blood, bones, muscle tissue, and a cornacopia of other things belonging to the bodies Rachel Venuto and Keith, the Staunton Island stock market snob. Steve was in deep thought about what the psycho convinced him to do. That he convinced him to beat her with a pistol and then throw her in the meat grinder along with Keith. Across the room, a silhoutte was clapping. Steve snapped out of his 'reflective period'. The silhoutte walked closer toward the light, further revealing itself with each step. Steve was afraid.

 

The silhoutte stepped into the light, it was the psycho again. Steve laughed with a small touch of fear in his voice. "Jesus," He said to sharp-dressed man who was in a pinstriped suit complete with a wide brim fedora. "You scared the sh*t out of me." Steve jumped to his feet and walked past the can of chopped up human organs. The psycho held his arms out.

 

"You're unstoppable, Steve. You're a genius, a true genius." The psycho said, complimenting Steve on his idea of grinding the bodies up into dog food.

 

"Thank you. You suggested killing her, remember?" Steve told him as he walked closer to the psychotic alter ego who looked as if he stepped out from an old gangster flick.

 

"I did but I didn't say anything about the meat grinder. Now, look at you. You're a free man. You don't have a f*cking whore for a wife. You're not chained by the shackles of matrimony, you're free from it. No longer are you sex-starved by that bitch who wouldn't give you what you hunger for. You are free to go out and eat all the f*ckin' pussy you want. You my friend, are free."

 

"Thanks." Steve said back to the empty space that lie before him. The cellphone in his front pocket began to vibrate. The psycho began to search his suit, looking for something. He pulled out a cellphone, stared at the number on the color screen. He then gave the phone to Steve.

 

Steve took the phone from his pocket and pressed the green button labeled 'Send'. "Yeah." Steve said to the caller on the line. The voice was distinct. A voice he had heard numerous times during his childhood and during his life as a wiseguy within the Sindacco Family. It was that of Michael Licata, Steve's boss and one of the many caporegimes of the Sindacco Family.

 

"Steve, it's Mike. Listen, I've gotten word from high up that there is to be a meeting down south. Down in Vice City. The Don wants all of caporegimes to be there and he wants us to bring at least one trusted guy. I want you to be my right-hand at this meeting." Licata told him, Steve smiled with contempt.

 

"When do we leave?" Steve asked him.

 

"Tomorrow morning but I want you to come to my place as soon as possible. I want to go over the details with you. Understand?" Steve understood completley, this was his chance. An opporutunity to become not only Licata's temporary lieutenant but his permanent one as well.

 

"Sure. I'll be there in a few." The other line clicked to an end. Steve also ended the call on his cellphone, he smiled at the pinstriped ego. The psycho smiled back. Steve gave the phone back to the man.

 

"You did it. A chance for you to make some major cash within this organization. A time for you to become a somebody instead of being a nobody. You made it, you guinea."

 

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Steve's silver Primo pulled up to the address of Michael Licata. It was an apartment tenement in St. Mark's, Licata's third home. This was one of the locations he had been staying at the most lately, he was known to skip from home to home in order to avoid federal wiretaps. If he wanted his people to know that he was changing addresses, he would relay it to two or three guys and then they would relay it to other people. He would either say, "I'm gonna be in Staunton." or "I'll be staying at my house." The address on Staunton Island was an opulent penthouse in the Belleville Park area while his 'house' was one of the many two story houses located near the Cochrane Dam on Shoreside Vale. Licata was one of the smarter caporegimes within the heirarchy of the Family.

 

The driver's side door of the Primo swung open. Steve Venuto stepped out from the silver sedan. He closed the door shut, locked the sedan, and headed towards the stoop of the house. The zoot suit gangster was on the stoop, flipping a coin with his thumb. Steve was surprised to see him there, he didn't notice him when he pulled up. Earlier the gangster was encouraging to the goodfella, now he was becoming a nuisance. He was going everywhere Steve went; sneaking up on him.

 

"This where Licata lives?" The coin-flipping gangster asked as he watched Venuto open the front door of the address.

 

"Yes." Steve's voice sounded agitated as he headed inside the apartment address. Steve slammed the door shut behind him and headed towards the public stairwell that lie in front of him. The stairwell climbed all the way up to the third floor of the apartment tenement, the floor Licata was on. Licata always liked being at the top when he came to his apartments and condos. It gave him a feeling that he was at the top of the world.

 

Licata was an equivalent to that of the gangsters in the motion pictures. He was power-hungry, ambitious, and opulent. He was somewhat like Al Pacino's character, Tony Montana, in Scarface or Wesley Snipes' Nino Brown in New Jack City and just like the two movie criminals, he had charisma. It's what made him a 'stand-up' guy in the Family instead of the 'Moustache Pete's' looking at him like he was a 'young Turk'. His charisma also allowed him to meet some of the most beautiful women within Liberty City, something that marriage never stopped. His wife divorced, asking for full custody of their one child, Michael Licata Jr. Although Mike had a few mistresses here and there, he was still a good father to his son.

 

Steve started to scale the stairs of the apartment tenement, he noticed that the suit was not too far behind. He was stalking him, one of the reasons Steve began to take the pills. Steve didn't have his pills handy nor did he take some, so the psycho would never go away, not until Steve took his medication. Steve passed the second floor, eyeing back at the slick gangster as he scaled the stairs with him. Before he reached the third floor, Steve decided to chat with the guy.

 

"Listen," Steve said to the ego. "I appreciate all that you have done for me. I appreciate the encouragement but right now, you're bein' a pain in the ass."

 

"So this is how you are going to treat me, eh? After all that sh*t I did for you, after I helped get rid of that whore and after I got you here. All you're going to do is tell me to f*ck off. No, I won't. I want to hear Licata's plan." The psycho nagged Steve as a fat woman would nag at her frail and skinny husband.

 

"He didn't ask for you." Steve told the goon, his tone angry and full of malice. It was almost if he were back at the Bitch'N Dog Food plant and he was talking to Rachel.

 

"Fine then. You can go f*ck yourself you goombah." The psycho turned away from Steve and headed down the flight of stairs. The goon was ranting and raving on his way down, waking the whole tenement up. He was rambling on about how his best friend betrayed him, people were sticking their heads outside of their rooms. They found Steve on the stairs shouting at God-knows-what. Each one shouted at him. What Steve saw in his eyes were the angry tenets screaming at the psycho, not at him.

 

Steve continued up the stairs, the psycho's ranting and raving had stopped. He finally reached the third and final floor of the tenement building. He heard the sound of the apartment doors below closing as the neighbors stopped yelling at the delusional wiseguy. He headed down the hallway towards room 4C, Michael Licata's apartment. Steve rapped on the door of the apartment, in a few short moments, the door swung open. Instead of Licata standing there, there was a topless brunette woman with a white linen wrapped around her lower body.

 

"Yes?" She asked Steve with inconvenience in her voice. Steve couldn't help but stare at the perky, erect breasts that stared right back at him.

 

"Is Mike here?" He asked her. She turned her body inside the apartment, Mike was walking towards the door.

 

"Come in." He said to him. Unlike the woman, Mike was fully clothed.

 

Steve walked inside, passing the topless woman and entering the plush apartment. It was neat, clean. The place was equipped with a stereo system, that was playing Marvin Gaye's Sexual Healing as Steve walked forward into Licata's inner sanctum. Also equipped with a big screen television set that included an expensive progressive scan DVD system with surround sound as well as a VHS system. He also had a small computer area set up in the corner of the small apartment, right next to the window, overlooking all of St. Mark's.

 

The woman shut the door behind Steve and then went to the bathroom that was situated to the right of the door. She closed the door. Steve followed Mike to the computer area, Mike took a seat in front of it while Steve stood. "So, what's this all about?" Steve was asking about the Vice City conference.

 

"A sand n*gger, an Arabian guy, he operates down in Florida. He's a large smack manufacturer over in the 'Golden Crescent'." Mike's explanation was interrupted by Steve. "What's the 'Golden Crescent'?" Steve asked.

 

"It's an area in the Middle East where the countries Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan meet. It's a place where the Arabian drug lords grow their poppy plants for the heroin trade. This guy runs three of the largest poppy fields in the 'Crescent' and operates a plant nearby that transforms the extract into opium. From there, the stuff becomes heroin in a European country. Then from that country, he ships it to Vice City. From there, he distributes it. What this man needs is political protection and money to buy off the customs agents, that's where we come in. We are goin' down there to talk it out with each other and see how we each feel about the situation."

 

"How do you feel?" Steve asked, interrupting once more.

 

"I feel we could make a lot of money off of this deal. The drug business in Vice City hasn't been touched by any of the families since Vercetti f*cked himself up in the 80s. Right now, we have the potential to make some serious f*ckin' greenbacks, more than Vercetti ever f*ckin' made. We'll have enough money to finance the casino in Las Venturas and enough money to finance our operations in Liberty as well. At this point, we have a chance to be bigger than the Forellis or the f*ckin' Leones. Both of them are still recoverin' from that f*ckin' no-name renegade that hit a few years back."

 

"So, when do we head for the airport?" Steve asked.

 

"Ohhhhhhhh! Steve, did I tell you that you were tagging along?" Mike asked him. Steve seemed confused, did Mike not call him less than thirty minutes ago and tell him about the whole deal? Or was his mind playing tricks on him?

 

"Yeah you did." Steve was puzzled by Mike's question. Mike sounded as if he had made a mistake in telling him that he was coming along. Steve's attention shifted from Mike to the otherside of the room, that rat bastard bust the door down. He was wielding a gun. Steve turned around towards Mike, Mike was holding a .45 to Steve's head. A silencer barrel was looking at Steve in the face.

 

"Adios." Mike pulled the trigger, Steve flew back and his body fell hard on the ground. A pool of blood began to gather on the hardwood floor. It was a good decision to kill Steve the delusional wiseguy, he was becoming a nuisance for everyone. A nagging pain who seemed to solve his problems by leaving a trail of dead bodies. The police were investigating Steve's action and it was turning out to devastate the Sindacco operations. Now, the worries were over...Steve was dead.

 

Mike's girl from the bathroom, not surprised about the fact that there was a dead man on the floor. She was fully dressed now in a casual shirt and blue jeans. She walked over to Mike, stepping over the dead body of the psychotic goodfella who could've been something. She leaned towards Mike and kissed him on the cheek.

 

"Call me." She told him as she walked away and out of the apartment. Sure, Mike thought, I'll call her but first I got two more calls to make. Michael Licata had to contact Don Sindacco to tell him that the situation with Steve had been dealt with and then he had to make a call to Paul Maglio.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[johnson.]

Sorry i havent made a story in a while

 

I should get the Cartel rolling again with a new Start. Give me a Week or two and ill have a story.

[Tril]

Story:Part 9:"Give Me Liberty"

 

November 2nd - Idlewood

 

They hadn't called in since I got here...

I was begining to think they forgot about me.

I answered my cellphone at 23:55.

"Bullet, do you got us a connection?" A voice said from the cell.

"Yeah, dont worry Tec I got the connection to the yayo.

I'll ship out back to Liberty in the morning. I thought you guys

forgot about me" I said back into the phone.

"Alright just make sure you got that connection or we won't get our

money from those Diablos." I nodded and said, "I got it... I'm coming

home before 6:00. Bye..." I hung up my phone and slipped it into my

pocket. I got up and turned on the lights. I gathered my things and

put them into a suitcase. I was headed back to Liberty City.

 

AT400 - Los Santos International Airport

 

I was getting out...

I left a note for the guys explaining that I wasn't who I said I was.

I wasn't a nobody from Liberty City.

I worked for a gang back in Liberty.

They sent me here to get a connection to some yayo for some

pornstar and his gang in Liberty. I was gonna make so much money

off of this. Way more than I ever made here in San Andreas.

I explained they shouldn't welcome just anyone with open arms into

there gang. Because somebody single handedly could build them up

then just bring them tumbling down. Thanks to me there connection

to the yayo would be lost. And the streets would run dry until they

got another conection.

 

The plane took off heading northeast back to L.C.

I looked out the window and could spot Idlewood from the air.

I laughed as I looked down on the area.

I couldn't believe I made it this far.

If someone as stupid as me could do this.

I'd hate to see what a smart man could do to this city.

 

November 8th - Francis International Airport, Liberty City

 

I grabbed my bag and got off the plane.

I walked toward the exit and saw Tec standing there.

Along side him was Mac and MP.

He told me I did good and we headed outside.

I looked to my right at Tec.

Then swung my head to the left and saw Mac and MP.

Then I looked straight as we walked down the stairs and into a taxi.

Liberty was mine for the taking...

 

ENDED!!!

 

 

EDIT:

We'll that was the wierdest ending I could've ever come up with...

Anyways here's a new storyline...

A New Story, A New Character, A New Day...

 

Story3-Mission 1-"A New Recruit"

 

(Idlewood Crack/Whore House, Los Santos : November 9th, 2005)

 

"Yo, I heard you were lookin' to join us." Saints said as he let

himself into the room. "Yeah, If I join you I won't have to pay no

more fo' the yayo, right?" I responded back to him. "Yeah, But the

jobs you gotta do for us will make up for it." I nodded and asked,

"So when do I start?' He handed me a Eagle and said ,"First yo' ass

needs to be iniciated! Take this gun and go kill us some Grove St.

bitches." He turned his head and looked out the window. I did the

same and from this appartment we were looking down on 5 members

standing in a circle at the corner next to the Binco's.

 

(Idlewood-Ganton, Los Santos)

 

I stepped outside the appartments and looked down at the Desert

Eagle Saints had given me. I checked the gun and not surprisingly

it was empty. I pulled out the empty clip and through it in the

dumpster near the crack house. I slipped a clip out of my pocket

and slapped it into the Eagle. I walked down the sidewalk towards

them. I jumped over a fence on my side of the street and hid in the

bushes. The bushes crept up to the chainlink fence giving me a

great cover from them. I began to aim at them and fired once.

I knocked down a guy wearing a checkered green and black shirt.

The others jumped and looked around trying to figure out where the

bullet came from. I shoot twice bringing two on the left down, they

both wore green jerseys. I quickly shot again and to my surprise

had popped the one on the rights brains against the Binco's. I

fired again and took out the last man standing.

 

I checked how many bullets were left in the clip and there were still

4 more bullets. I put the palms of my hands on the chainlink fence

and flung myself over to the other side. I began to head toward the

appartments when I heard ,"What the hell you doin' foo'!!!" I turned

around and saw a Greenwood heading in my direction. I fired toward

the driver. In seconds I realized I hit him and he hit the steering

wheel the car was now headed toward me. Three men began to

lean out of the windows. I fired twice both toward the men on the

side closest to me and hit them both. The two rolled out of the

doors scraping themselves up pretty badly against the sidewalk.

The car popped over onto the sidewalk. It was 5 feet away from

me when I jumped out of the way and into the street. The man

hanging out of the window on the right started to fire his Tec-9.

Luckfully for me he had bad aim and missed me, but unluckfully for

him I didn't. Bloodsprayed from the man and he rolled out the

window of the car and his body layed next to me. I jumped to my

feet and watched the car smack into the side off the appartments

and come to a stop.

 

(Idlewood Crack/Whore House, Los Santos)

 

I walked into the appartment and headed into the room where

Saints was watching. He looked at the door and said ,"Very

impressive, I guess you a Balla now. But yo get yo'self some colors

or you won't be recognized." I nodded and asked ,"So what's ma

first mission?" He looked at me and said in a mad kind of tone,

"First get yo'self some damn colors foo'! Then we talk 'bout what

we need you to do!" I quickly responded to that ,"A'ight,damn, no

reason to get all edgy 'bout sh*t." I turned around and headed out.

 

(Idlewood, Los Santos)

 

As I walked toward the sidewalk I checked unloaded the clip and

tossed it into the dumpster. I checked for another and realized I

was out so I slipped the Desert Eagle into my pocket. I headed

down the street past the car and to the corner. I crossed the

street and entered the Binco's. I exited a few minutes later with

a bag full of new clothes. I was headed back to the appartment

when I got a call on my cellphone. "Lance, it's Saints. Listen don't

speak. Leave the bag at the door and then go down to Medix."

I hung up my cell and dropped the bag at the door. I flipped my

cellphone into my pocket and pulled out my keys. I walked over to

my Patriot and unlocked the door.

I started up the engine and was on my way to Medix house.

 

From what I heard Medix was trying to get off the streets by

becoming a doctor. But instead of getting away he got closer to

the Ballas. The more he tried to leave the more friends he made

and eventually he forgot about leaving because his he had to help

his friends. I pulled up to Medix house not to long after leaving the

appartments. I saw a man wearing Blk.Jeans,a Prpl.Tank,and a

Blk.San Andreas Cap(Back) on. As he approached the car I could

make out the goatee,cornrows,and cigar hanging out of the right

side of his mouth. "Are you Lance?" He asked me and I quickly

responded with a nod. "Give these to Saints." He said handing me

a small white medicine bottle. "I'll get'em to'em..." I said as he

began to walk away. I started up the car and headed back to the

appartments.

 

I pulled up to the appartments and stepped out of the car. I took

the keys out and put them into my pocket. I headed toward the

door and on my way in I grabbed my bag of clothes. I walked into

the room where Saints was and said ," Here's ya pills..." As I pulled

the small white bottle out of my pocket. He quickly snatched them

from my hand and took out two pills and swallowed them. "Alright,

since you rollin' wit' us now here's your pay. This is for gettin' me

my pills and killin' those Grove St. bitches. This is your room from

now on." I nodded as I took the money out of his hand. It wasn't

much but I didn't do much so I shouldn't have expected more.

I set down my bag as Saints left the room. I didn't know what is

going to happen past that day but for the first time I really didn't

care...

Edited June 2, 2005 by Tril

[SloStenRacing]

Alright guys here is the d/l on the lack of updates. If you are still active and reading this then you know I sent out Spring Cleaning PM's, well we lost half the roster so we are lacking on stories. What I am going to do is update the first page and send people who write stories a PM regarding how much they made until business picks up in here. Keep on writing as I am still reading.

[GTAFool12]

I quit. Please whoever takes the purple nines, be gentle...

 

 

 

Just kidding, do whatever the hell you want.

[Officer Pulaski]

this isnt a great story but here it is

and i would like to buy a Cuban Hermes and an Uzi 9mm PLEASE!

Phusions good with it all right

EDIT: hmm... maybe you should make a scoreboard for the gangs (like first second third)

 

 

Chapter 4

Floating Hermes

 

With Diaz's gang off our case we could relax. The Cafe was coming together quite well too, only part of the second floor was left to be made. I was sitting down drinking coffee when Pepe came in.

"Well we can finally get some cars" he said.

"Uh huh, what kind? How much work do I have to do?" I said.

"The Cuban Hermes, flame paint job, one of the most powerful engines," he said, "What you have to do is steal a Freighter"

"The boat or the train" I asked.

"The boat, it 's directly North of San Fierro," he said.

"All right I'm on it" I said.

 

Well I needed a way to get to San Fierro, with guns and ten guys. I knew a security guard that worked for Escobar International and he said he could clear all of us Colt .45's. We booked a flight for two days later. When we got there and I put the bag full of guns to go through the X-ray machine, it went through and was cleared, all eleven of us got onto the AT-400. I was sitting on an aisle seat.

 

After about an hour after takeoff, I started passing around the bag of guns to my guys. Me and another guy went to the front of the plane. I kicked open thhe cockpit door and killed both of the pilots. I took them out of the seats and I started flying. The rest of my men were keeping everyone settled down until we had nearly gotten to San Fierro, I lowered our altitude.We all strapped on parachutes and two of my men opened the pressurized door and got sucked out. Luckily they had there parachutes and headed toward the freighter with them. The rest of us all jumped out after them quickly.

 

All ten of my men touched down before me. I landed ontop of some freight containers, and they were pretty much all around me too, like a corridor. I landed somewhere in the middle of the boat. I heard gunshots coming from somewhere around the front of the boat. I took out my .45, took my parachute off and took a left around some freights. There were two guys with there backs to me just ahead of me shooting at one of my guys behind a box. They had a shotgun and a Mac10. I shot them both in the back, and realized that one of my guys had died beside the other one. The living one came with me, we took a right around some containers, then left, then left. There was a large area here and three of my guys had a gunfight with five of there guys here. One of my guys had died and three of there guys had too. I came in and shot one guy that had a chromed shotgun and then ducked behind a box. The last guy came out with a Tec-9 and started shooting at me, one of the other guys got him. The four of us then took a right, then another right. It was another corridor of containerss, but at then end it went downward towards an open area with part of the deck. Two of my men were there one was dead, he was on the lower container. The four of us jumped down to help him. There were two guys there, I shot one in the chest and the other was shot in the head by someone else.

 

We jumped off the containers and onto a small part of the deck. In the lower floor, three of my guys were trying to fend off five of there guys. My guys were ontop of some containers near the opening going up to the deck.

"Guys get up here!" I yelled down them, "We'll cover you!"

The three of them started climbing up the containers while we shot down at the other guys. Two of our guys made it up and two of their guys were still alive. We decided to continue on and climbed up the containers towards the bridge. We made it to the balcony, me and another guy named Carlo walked inside, while the rest guarded the door. Inside there was one guy on the stairs with a Mac10 using the wall as cover. We jumped to opposite sides when he started shooting and Carlo shot him in the head. Carlo ran up the stairs and I followed. There were three guys in the bridge with Mac10's. Carlo shot one of them but was then shot in the chest. I ran up and shot one in the chest and the stomach then went down the stairs again as the last guy sprayed bullets at me. He reloaded, I needed to also. Instead, I ran up the stairs, picked up Carlo's gun and shot the guy in the chest three times.

 

While we were in the bridge one of my men had been shot by one of those guys that were in the deck below, but they were both shot afterwards. We all met in the bridge and sailed as best we could... down South to the Panama Canal, then back up North and we finally made it back to Vice. The Freighter that was usually just South of the Ocean Docks gate was gone for once. We docked her there and unloaded all the cars. After that Myself and one other man sailed out again and about a mile off cost we ditched and got into a inflatable boat and paddled back to Vice.

Edited June 9, 2005 by Officer Pulaski

[Officer Pulaski]

bump

well it seems SloSten died

and nobody is here

anyone else want to run Buyg in yet another version?

[GTAFool12]

I'd like to do it. I'll update minimum 3 times a week, I promise. Don't worry I am not afraid to pass on the flag. Officer Pulaski I would also need your help with the table the updaates are made on and grading. Please respond in this topic.

[Officer Pulaski]

updates I may be able to help with

other than that you would be on your own

[Darksora45]

This is my story, if its a little small ill try to make it bigger, this was before CJ killed Ryder and Jizzy and TBone.

 

Where the Trouble Started Part 1

 

 

::I woke up to the sound of gunshots, its no diffrent from any other night because there has been gang trouble for the past 2 months between my Grove Street Gang and the Ballas. I went outside from my house in Ganton to find one of my gang members lieing next to my porch half-dead. I could barley hear him when he said his final word "Ballas....". I knew that was the last I could stand of those Balla b****es so i grabbed my AK-47 and my Tec-9 from my house and went to my gangs houses and told them "were gonna go get those balla b******s. They grabbed their AK's and rushed out to join me. I asked Ceasar if we could borrow his Lowrider. We hopped in and drove to Sante Maria Beach. There we could see over 4 groups of balla's walking on the beach kicking and shooting people for fun. I had all i could stand of those balla's so I ordered my gang to storm the balla's head on. I was about to run behind them but got tripped by Ryder, our former GSF member, and blacked out.

 

I woke up tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse which looked to be somewhere in Blueberry Acres in San Fierro. I tried to get free but the ropes were to strong. Just then i could hear laughter in the other room. I tried to listen closely to see who it was that was talking. I recognised the voice, it was TBone Mendez, the big muscle that works with some doof named Toreno. I didnt hear the whole thing because i got startled by Ryder who put a De.50 to my head and told me to stop over hearing the conversation. I told him to f*** off. He said he wanted to kill me but he couldnt because he needed me in Toreno's plan to get rich without having to murder people to do it. Then i remembered CJ having to do s*** for people like Tempenny and Catilina to make their lives easier. I remembered CJ's phone number so whenever i needed backup he'd be there. Since my hands were useless i used my leg to feel around for my cellphone. "Damit!!" i said because they took my phone when they knocked me out. So i just sat there and waited for someone to tell me what to do so i could get the hell outta there. I decided to be cool and fall asleep in my chair until they woke me for my "misson"

 

 

I woke up around midnight i had to guess that because the sky was pitch black. I looked around for Toreno or Ryder but havent seen them. I forgot that i had a knife under my hat incase someone took my guns. If i could get my knife out of my hat i could get free. i waved my head around hoping my hat would slide off. Once it did, the knife slid down and landed into my hands. I used the knife to cut the ropes. I looked around for my guns but kept tripping in the process since it was pitch black and i couldnt see anything. I felt something that felt like a De.50. My guess it was Ryder's. I took the DE and jumped out the window and ran down the street. I asked a dude on a Sanchez to stop because i needed a lift back to Los Santos. When i found out Toreno had sent Ryder out to get me i started to panick since i didnt have a phone to call for backup. I needed to think and fast.

 

I had an idea. I would stop at the nearest 24-7 store and use the payphone. I relized i didnt have any money so i put the DE to the farmers side of his face and ordered him to give me money. Once i had at least 50 bucks i ran to the store and used the payphone to call CJ who wasnt picking up for some reason. I called Sweet's house but no answer then i called my GSF dudes and they werent there. I was trying to figure out why they didnt pick up the phone. I look toward the street and see a brown pickup truck heading toward 24-7. I knew it had to be Ryder since the truck was moving at a quick pace. I need to find out how to get out of this one.

 

Part 2 ill do at a later time im kinda tired from typing so much.

[Ottae]

Hi can i set up the Vercetti Gang? no one's in it and besides, i've wrote a story, can i buy the Malibu as well, it's mentioned in the story. Enjoy

 

The Vercetti's Are Back

 

I stepped out of the airport into Vice City and thought about what could happen here, all I had was $250 to start up the Vercetti Gang so I headed for the Malibu and walked in, with the my $200 I payed for the joint, now I just had 50 bucks to get back on my feet, I walked out of The Malibu and strolled around Vice City.

I saw a few gangs that will probably be a problem later on, the Cuban gang was probably the main threat in vice city, but I didn’t worry, I haven’t done anything to upset them, yet. Then, all of a sudden, I heard gunfire, I ducked and hid behind a nearby tree, it was the Diaz Gang, they were out to get me, they knew I’d come.

I whipped out my Tec-9 and open fired, I didn’t do any damage but it was enough for them to get the hell outer here, I could see that I wouldn’t be very welcome here, first I needed to build up a repretation but that was hard, seen as though there was just me alone in Vice city against at least 4 other gangs, but I had some cash and a weapon, all I needed now was some homies.

 

Not very long, or interesting, but what do you expect? i've got nobody with me, so i can't really do much!

 

Thanks Anyway

[GTAFool12]

We need a new BUYG name for the new BUYG. What should it be? Start naming. O yeah and for the new guys, The owner of this topic ain't coming back, so don't write a story here. We will launch a new Buyg so save your stories

[Darksora45]

color=red how about BUYG Reborn? imma save my story i posted and put it in the next one/red

[Tril]

Build Up Your Gang : Another Remix

Build Up Your Gang : San Andreas

Build Up Your Gang : Welcome To The West Coast

Build Up Your Gang : West Coast Stories

Build Up Your Gang : GTA Classic

 

That's all I can think of currently man...

[Officer Pulaski]

well it looks like EVERY member of BUYG is gone

if ANYONE is interested in remaking it do so

 

so many damn BUYG's gone, SA and Vice are gone, the only one left is Liberty

[Tril]

Stop posting here this is dead man...

We're already trying to start it up again.

Talk about it over PM's with GTAFool12...

[Officer Pulaski]

yeah he quit on us dude (he told me himself)