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The 3rd Degree: Skinner


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After writing more of the 3rd episode of The 3rd Degree with TenaciousD., I had the idea of making the first episode, Skinner, into a story so the story of Skinner can be told in more depth. I've also wanted to get into Writing a lot recently and I think this is a good way of going about it.


Of course, comments and criticism very welcome, keep in mind that this is my first story in here.


So far, I've written the first two chapters, so I'll do a small contents bit at the start.



One Three Minutes 19th June 08
Two Bullets In the Water 19th June 08
Three Back on Track 20th June 08
Four Severity Road 20th June 08



Written by Steven Otter

Based on the Machinima by Graham Fitzgerald and Steven Otter[/b]


Chapter 1: Three Minutes


The door swung open for the fifth time that minute, it was unusually busy for a Thursday. Skinner sat opposite the reception desk of the Spand Ex linguistics company in his blue overalls, waiting for his next job to come through. He tried to think why people were ordering more than usual, there were no holidays coming up, it was the dullest time of the year.


He stared down at his mucky black work boots, occasionally shutting his eyes. He was tired, he hadn’t slept well last night, he hadn’t slept well in a long time. He thought he might have a case of insomnia, but he just shrugged off the idea, he just had a lot on his mind.


“Skinner?” An exotic voice sounded from behind the reception desk, “Your shipment’s arrived, it’s waiting for you outside. You know where it’s for, right?”


“Yeah, the factory behind the Test Centre, I know. I make the same shipment every week Carmella” Skinner groaned as he stood up, wobbling on the spot before he walked over to the reception desk.


“You look tired Jake, late night again?” Carmella enquired.


“Yeah, I wish I could say I was out partying, but I’d be a lie. Truth was I was watching boring reality shows all night.” Replied Skinner, as he picked up the envelope containing his shipment’s details.


“You need a woman Jake, you know, five foot three, medium build, tanned skin” Carmella said, seductively as she looked Skinner up and down.


“You don’t want to go out with me Carmella, trust me; it’d be a waste of an evening” smiled Skinner as he put his bag on his shoulder.


“Fine! I’ll get you one day Jake Skinner; you’re a tough cookie to crack.” Carmella laughed.


“I’m sure you will, and until then, look for someone else, you’re a beautiful woman. Anyway, I better get going, you know what those grease monkeys at the warehouse are like.” Skinner turned round and headed for the door, he heard the faint ‘goodbye’ of Carmella as the door swung shut for the hundredth time that day.


It was a cold autumn’s day, the Red County ground was covered in browned leaves and Skinner kicked a pile of them as he walked over to his 3 year old truck. He opened the door, climbed in side and rested his head on the steering wheel for a minute or two before starting the engine and being greeted by the dulcet tones of James Brown.


He could do this route with his eyes closed, and considering last night’s sleep, wouldn’t bother Skinner. He sped along the highway with his shipment of oil towing behind him. He knew where the speed cameras were and sped along the roads which lacked them.


Skinner can’t remember why he opted for the evening shift, perhaps it was to make him forget about his miserable life, but he could always bet on a beautiful sunset as he rounded the corner before the tunnel into San Fierro.


Another James Brown track started up as he went through the tunnel into San Fierro. Poppa’s Got a Brand New Bag, probably his favourite track, he shut his eyes as he stopped at the traffic lights and drummed his finger to the beat on the steering wheel.


He had plenty of time, the shipment wasn’t due for another 10 minutes and he was only 5 minutes away. He decided to go a different route, by the army base and Easter Basin. As he got to the docks, he pulled in, got out and watched the sun set over the bridge of the huge container ship.


He looked over Easter Basin Docks and thought to himself how cruel men can be. His life was ruined the in just three minutes. Thirteen years of hard work, making his way through life in the mob, ruined in three minutes, and for what? A ton of metal? What a joke. The truck’s CV radio sprang into life.


“Base to Wild Boar, hurry up with the truck if you want your payment” it coughed. Skinner hated that damn radio; he could barely understand what it said. He looked at his watch, three minutes to go. He put his thoughts aside and hopped back into the truck.


Three minutes...


Chapter 2: Bullets In the Water

The beige Greenwood sped down the sandy, dry roads of Bone County. The car had just come from Las Venturas where the recipient, Mr. Skinner, had landed. This was his first time in San Andreas, three years before his latest shipment to the grease monkey’s warehouse in San Fierro; he was here on a job which he was handpicked for by his boss, Leo Giordano.


He was on his way to Cranberry Railway Station, San Fierro to pick up his closest comrade, Mark Grobeti. Skinner had known Mark for ten years, he was like the brother he never had, or probably did, thinking of his mother.


The job was relatively easy. Go in, steal the car and hotfoot it back to Liberty. They’d done it a million times before. It wasn’t like the prize was hard to get away with, the Super GT was the fastest car around, a grandmother could outrun the police, but this time it all went wrong.


Skinner stopped outside Cranberry station, got out and walked over to Mark.


“Where have you been? I’ve been watching this garage erode for the past half an hour” Mark spat, impatiently.


“Let me guess Mark, you spent the whole time thinking of that joke?” Skinner responded, coolly. Mark paused.


“Let’s roll” he said, eventually. The two men walked towards the car and Skinner turned on the radio, Mark fumbled about in the glove compartment and produced a CD with ‘Golden Earring’ written on it. He inserted it into the car’s CD changer and Radar Love blurted out the speakers.


“You love this song, don’t you?” Skinner asked, bored.


“It gets me going, we need sh*t like this.” Mark replied enthusiastically. Skinner rolled his eyes and carried on driving towards the docks at Easter Basin. He eventually came to the disused train tracks and parked the car under the bridge.


Both men got out and walked around to the back of the car. Skinner popped the trunk door and they pulled out a silenced pistol each. They glanced at each other, nodded and shut the door. Stealthily, they headed down the remainder of the tunnel, ran across to a wall and hopped over it. Remaining in the shadows, they ran through an unused warehouse and sat for a minute, watching the boat. With another glance, they got up and ran towards the side of the boat.


They were nearly there. They both ran up the ramp at the side of the boat and hid behind two containers. Checking the area, they saw the Super GT sitting there, waiting to be stolen. Without a second thought, Mark ran towards the car, Skinner tried to stop him but it was too late, he ran down the opposite side of the boat after him.


It all happened so fast. Skinner heard gunshots above them, he looked up but by the time he could see anyone, the area burst into flames as the Super GT was destroyed by the array of gunfire. He looked across to see Mark’s bullet ridden charred remains and looked around for cover as the men aimed their sights on him. He was in the open; his only choice was to dive into the icy water below. He hit the cold water with bone crushing force.


He blacked out in the water, but 10 seconds later was woken by gunfire all around him. He swam out of sight towards the airport and climbed the ladder onto the runway. It was very windy and he couldn’t hear a thing, a plane was taking off on the runway next to him and he could feel his ears aching. He stumbled across the runway and found shelter in a nearby hangar. He sat there, for how long he did not know, but it was long enough to know that he couldn’t go back to Liberty now, he’d have to go to the mattresses in San Fierro and sit it out.


He didn’t imagine, three years later, the mafia would have forgotten about him and he’d be living a normal man’s life like a schnook.


Edited by Ottae


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The Unvirginiser

Whoa, Whaoo, Whaaaoo


You write?

Read through it, very impressed, would love to see a recognisable face put some work in round these parts my mate


Keep it coming!

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Whoa, Whaoo, Whaaaoo


You write?

Read through it, very impressed, would love to see a recognisable face put some work in round these parts my mate


Keep it coming!

Apparently so! I did English Language & Literature at A Level and didn't want to waste my 'skills'. I had a number of ideas floating around my head but decided this was the best thing to do to get me going, and to expand the 3rd Degree universe a bit more.


Thanks for the comment Unvirginiser, I'll post Chapter 3/4 tomorrow.


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So you write Ottae? Thats awesome! But what's the 3rd degree universe? I'm guessing it was something you wrote a while back?

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So you write Ottae? Thats awesome! But what's the 3rd degree universe? I'm guessing it was something you wrote a while back?

It's a movie series me and TenaciousD and doing at the moment, filming it in San Andreas Multiplayer.


Basically, it's a 4 part series about 3 different people who all want revenge for different reasons. They all tie up in the fourth episode.


I warn you not to watch any videos if you don't want the story ruining, but I'm sure you'd enjoy the story as much, if not more if you understand what's going on, lol.


Episode 1: Skinner was finished in May 2007 you can see it here.


Episode 2: Carter was finished in October 2007, you can see it here


And we're currently writing Episode 3, which we haven't revealed the name of yet. We've written and filmed the first half, and we're currently finishing the writing off for it.


As I said, I wanted to revisited Skinner and write a lot more indepth about his story, obviously you can describe a lot more about his life than in the confides of filming in San Andreas which we learnt to be very restrictive.




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Mind the Double Post!


Chapter 3: Back on Track


The wheels of Skinner’s truck broke the threshold of the warehouse and parked next to a waiting foreman. Skinner got out and walked over to the stern looking man, saying nothing but giving him the envelope containing the shipment details. The foreman nodded, Skinner rounded and headed for the car park outside. He walked over to his beige Greenwood and stopped in front of it. This was the only relic left from his days in the mafia. It was all gone except for this stupid car. He climbed in and started it up. Smoked plumed out the exhaust and grumbled towards the exit.


Did he really deserve this? A life of hauling round other people’s crap for a crap wage? He didn’t think anyone deserved this but people who wanted to do it. He thundered round the second to last corner on the way home to his apartment. He had to get his life back on track, he couldn’t stand by and let the bastards who ruined his life sit back and enjoy life while he hated every minute of it.


Rounding the last corner, down the windy road, Skinner switched off his headlights and parked in front of his snot green garage. He didn’t bother parking it inside, his garage was full of crap he didn’t use and he couldn’t be bothered to sort it out. The door opened and a ray of light from a nearby street lamp filled the room with a yellow glow. He slammed the door and sat down on his favourite chair, favourite because it was the only one without springs up his ass. He didn’t bother turning on any lights, he just sat there, thinking.


He thought about what tomorrow would bring.


“f*ck all” he said to himself quietly. He drifted off.


The next morning he was awoken by the rude sound of a loud car horn outside. He jerked with a start and rubbed his eyes. At least he had a decent night’s sleep; it was the first in a while, now he was just hungry. He headed over to the fridge and looked at its content.


“f*ck all” He said again.


His car engine started and he made his way to the local SupaSave. The DJ in his radio sprung into life, far too cheerily for Skinner’s liking. He said something about Offspring and a song about getting a job came out. He turned the radio off with anger and jumped down one of San Fierro’s many hilly roads. After parking in the carpart, Skinner got a few essentials and marched out again, he hated Supermarkets; he was beginning to think there was nothing he liked at all. His car door opened and a croaky voice sounded off behind him.


“You Jake Skinner?” It growled.


“Who’s asking?” Jake Skinner answered, puzzled.


“You’ll find out tonight if you go to Doherty Garage tonight, at midnight. I know something you might want to hear.” The man drove off, leaving Skinner standing alone in the car park next to his stupid car.


The sun was setting again, and after a day’s contemplation Jake decided to meet the mysterious man. His life was so boring, what did he have to lose? The certain something that he might want to hear maybe something to get his life back on track, it certainly sounded more interesting than a shipment to a bunch of lowlife grease monkeys.


His stupid car drove towards the eroding garage opposite the train station. Jake couldn’t go here without thinking of Mark. It was only a small comment, but Mark’s joke about this garage eroding was one of the last things he heard his would-be brother say. He sighed and got out the car. He hadn’t carried a gun since a month after the docks incident, but he thought he might need something now. He remembered a stash of weapons his previous employee’s had left behind the garage in case of emergencies.


Jake walked around the corner and pick up a bat.


“Needs more kick” He whispered to himself. Looking around, he spotted a rusty Katana. “I haven’t used one of these in years!” He whispered, before spotting a machete lying next to his foot. He picked it up, shoved it down his waistband and walked out onto the garage’s forecourt. Two minutes to midnight.


A moment later, a car pulled up in front of him, the windows blacked out. The window closest to him dropped down an inch and voice spoke from within.


“Thanks for coming Jake, you won’t regret it.”


“Yeah yeah, what do you want? Who are you?” Jake asked through clenched teeth, he’d only just realised how cold it was.


“I’ve got some information that might be some use to you” coughed the icy voice.


“What makes you think I trust you?” Replied Jake,


“I’m not saying you do, but I know Mr. Grobeti’s death occurred three years ago, and what happened on that ship.” Skinner could feel his heart heat up and pump hot blood around his body, he was angry, he wanted information.


“Oh yeah? Well you better start talking or I’m going to cut you up so much the worms won’t even have to chew!” The man paused thoughtfully; perhaps he was trying to compose himself.


“Look behind the car” He said, finally. Skinner looked up past the car at Cranberry Station. “Get the next train to Los Santos and get some shut eye, all will be explained tomorrow. “ Skinner wasn’t sure why he did it, it must have been someone else talking about his past for the first time in three years, but after the car drove off he headed across the road and waited for the next train to LS.


His life was back on track again.



Chapter 4: Severity Road


While he was on the train, Jake thought about his living conditions in Los Santos. He remembered an old girlfriend he had five years ago who had left him to move to Los Santos. He remembered exactly where he lived because it had the same street name as his back in Liberty City.


The train pulled into the underground station and Jake walked up the early morning steps to street level. He called down one of the many passing cabs and got in it. The guy inside was a very friendly Englishman.


“Where d’ya want me to tek’ ya’?” The man said in a thick north English accent.


“Err, Severity Road in Rodeo please” Skinner replied, nervously.


“Bloody ‘ell, that’s a bit fancy isn’t it? You livin’ there or summet?” The taxi driver shouted, unnecessarily.


“Well, for a while. I’m looking for someone special.” Jake replied minutely in comparison.


“We’re all looking for that someone special mate!” Jake smiled, the phrase reminded him of a trailer to a new film that was coming out. The yellow conversation machine stopped outside a small house on Severity Road and the man spoke again.


“That’ll be nine forty then me duck” he said, cryptically. Jake stood there, wondering why he was being called a duck and then fished a ten dollar note out of his pocket.


“Keep the change, use it for elocution lessons or something” Jake walked off quickly before the man could work out what he meant and then heard a faint Yorkshire accent shout ‘You cheeky bastard!” Jake smiled to himself and knocked on the door.


He’d phoned ahead on the train to make sure it was alright to stay at Charlotte’s house. She said it was fine, because she now lived in Paris but hadn’t bothered to sell the place. He picked up the key from the bottom of a strange looking Gnome figurine and opened the door. The place was pristine, or at least tidier than the sh*t whole he’d lived in for the past 3 years. He walked over to the big screen TV and turned it on. It was late, and late night TV wasn’t the most entertaining in Los Santos. He fell asleep to a re-run of Jerry Springer.

Jake wasn’t sure who was going to get in touch with him, or how for that matter. He went to a nearby Cafe and sipped a Cappuccino as he waited for his phone to ring, occasionally looking out the window in case he saw the same Sentinel he’d seen last night.


He strolled home in vain.


A week passed without a word and Skinner was starting to get pissed off. He didn’t want to go back to his crappy hauling job, and this place was far nicer than his back home. Funds were running low though, so he walked around looking for inspiration. He wandered out of Rodeo towards the beach and came across a street gang. For some reason, it seemed like none of them drove, because as he watched, two cabs came and picked them up. He’d always liked the idea of becoming a taxi driver, and it was the perfect way to learn about the gang scene around Los Santos. Maybe that way, he’d get a lead on the gang that screwed up his whole life on that boat.


Getting the job didn’t take much work; he found the nearest Taxi Depo, went inside and asked for a job. They asked him what kind of experience he’d had and he told them of his hauling job, and the Pizza Delivery job he did when he was a kid for Giordano. They offered him a week’s trial which he stormed through, being one of the best employees the company had.


Eventually, he found out more about the way the gangs worked in Los Santos. Who the big guns were, but there were so many small time gangs that it was hard to keep track of them all. Jake carried round a notepad with him to jot down the names of them all.


The notepad came irrelevant, because there was once a drunken guy that told him exactly what he wanted to know.



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Heh, liked the movie alot, and reading this is as entertaining (But i do rather motion picture over reading ph34r.gif ) as watching it. And i lol'd at ParoXum's paradise bridge on the cover/front.

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