Chapter Thirteen: Merryweather And A Bodyguard

Newsperson: All new this morning, loveable Poppy Mitchell turned raging sex drunk. Has been seen on a high-speed chase from police. From the Vinewood Hills, Downtown Vinewood, near Los Santos Freeway, through the parking lot of Diamond Casino. She's lucky nobody was parked out there. Driving down East Vinewood on Bridge Street, before finally crashing her vehicle into a palm tree close to Harrick Ave. Pictures emerge of her arrest from Beverly Cove, a weird hippie name by the way, before the press got there. At eleven, we'll have Officer Steven tell us his side of the story as he arrested Poppy.

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You switch the channel as you eat your breakfast sandwich and drink your fruit smoothie while you're in your pajamas.

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Steve Haines: On this episode of "The Underbelly of Paradise", we take a look at how Los Santos made mass murder, into nostalgia. Of course, to become truly popular, your murder has to be both unsolved and gruesome.

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The scene changes into actual photos of a dismembered and mutilated woman, her body lying face down on the dirt ground. What looks cigar burns on her back in the shape of a big star. Her hands and feet were chopped off, and her face was severely mutilated.

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Y/n: Oh God.

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You were not expecting the show to show actual photos of the gruesome murder. Jesus... poor girl.

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Steve Haines: In a town full of alien spotters, adults dressed as zombies, and entertainers dressed as cartoon characters. It takes something particularly awful to really catch people's attention. The famous unsolved murder of a Vinewood starlet is one such case. For years, horny nerds have wondered, what happened to Leonora Johnson? And if they would have plucked up the courage to speak to her, or kill her themselves.

Y/n: Who the fuck writes these scripts?

Steve Haines: It's inspired filmmakers, writers, and copycat killers. Conspiracy theorists have blamed various celebrities, the mayor, the Soviets, short skirts, women's liberation, and hidden aliens embedded among us for the murder.

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You switch the channel, not wanting to hear more about the sad case as well as for the weird script they're having Steve Haines say.

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Female Tv Narrator: In 1950, the first "Up-n-Atom Restaurant" opened. Life was simpler then. The 50s were a sacred time for our nation. Good clean food, happy homogenous people, and well-segregated communities. An enemy we understood and could control with the threat of nuclear apocalypse. Such was the excitement of the atomic age. That can-do American spirit is in our DNA at Up-n-Atom! We invented the triple burger, the ten slices of Bacon-Triple-Cheese-Melt, and the extra creamy Jumbo Shake. And of course the legendary, 2-way speaker box for people that are too lazy to get out of their cars to eat. We don't succumb to trendy health fads. At Up-n-Atom we've kept many of the same menu items. We still serve up all of your weekly saturated fat, salt, and sugar needs in one convenient setting. Up-n-Atom. Food from when we were morally superior.

Y/n: What the fuck kind of diner commercial was that?

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You finish eating your meal before getting up and turning off the tv. You're thinking of going to the beach again, walk on the boardwalk, shop some souvenirs, and eating out at a local restaurant. You are gonna be here for the whole summer and you feel like you really know your way around Vespucci Beach. But maybe you should go into the city and see what's around there. You got a bike, if not you can take a taxi.

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...Meanwhile...

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While Trevor looks at his board with plans to rob whatever Merryweather is trying to contain at the ports, he calls Michael.

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*Michael: Ahh, Trevor, hey.*

*Trevor: Mikey! Hey, listen, loving it here in LS. Really settling in, getting my first enema tomorrow. Anyway, I heard about some action.*

*Michael: Yeah, huh? Yeah, okay.*

*Trevor: Ooh you bet it's okay. Listen, I gotta do a little prep work, but so far it's looking pretty tasty. I'll need you to bring along that kid you've been hanging out with, Franklin. I'll call you when it's all done.*

*Michael: Yeah, okay. Speaking of kids, how was the hunting trip?*

*Trevor: It went great. Taught her how to shoot and it turns out she's a natural-born killer.*

*Michael: A natural-born killer? Coming from you, that sounds concerning.*

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Trevor hangs up, and just as he's leaving the condo, he gets another call. There's no name, just a number he hasn't seen before. But regardless, he answers.

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*Trevor: Who's this?*

*Antonia: It's Antonia Bottino. You know, the girl who nearly attended her own funeral out at Paleto Bay.*

*Trevor: How could I forget?*

*Antonia: My dad wanted to make sure you were looked after. I talked to him about what you said about your daughter. If you want, you could have someone protect her whenever she goes out. All you got to do is call the number I'll send you and he'll be right at her location, with or without her knowing. That's up to you.*

*Trevor: I'm glad to hear that.*

*Antonia: There's some money being wired to your account right now. Do you want some of it to go to her account as well?*

*Trevor: Sure.*

*Antonia: Now I gotta get off the line. Thank you again. Best to you and your daughter.*

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She hangs up and begins to call you to let you know about the money being wired to your account.

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...Meanwhile...

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You took a cab Downtown, and right now you're at a coffee shop called "Bean Machine". Sitting by the window, you sip on your coffee while eating a donut. Both the coffee and donut are a little overpriced for your liking, but at least it's good. You then get a call from an unknown number. Usually, you don't answer calls you don't know, but for some reason, you felt like you needed to answer this one.

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*Y/n: Hello?*

*Antonia: Hi Y/n? It's Antonia Bottino.*

*Y/n: Oh hey, how's it going?*

*Antonia: So far, so well hidden now. Anyway, I called because my dad really appreciated what your father did. He wanted to make sure you and your dad were looked after. And so, there's some money being wired to your account right now, same with your dad. Now don't worry about getting a call from the bank, it's all taken care of. Now I got to go, it was nice meeting you and your dad.*

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She hangs up the phone, probably because it's best for her safety that she doesn't spend too much time on the line. Then your phone ding and you see a notification from your bank.

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**$15,000.00 has been deposited to your account! Happy Banking!**

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You get up. Walk straight into the bathroom while staring at your phone. It was a one-person bathroom, so that means that it's just you in here... Okay... you're the only one in here so...

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Y/n: Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh shit! What the fuck?!

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You're fucking speechless right now, not completely, but still! Okay, obviously, the smart thing to do is to save all of it...but...screw it. You're going on a shopping spree. You're not going to spend all of it, you're going to try to be smart with the money as you spend it.

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Mary-Ann: (Bangs on the bathroom door) Hurry the fuck up whoever's in there! I need to take a shit!

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...Afternoon Comes...

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While Trevor is getting his leg rubbed by Floyd, a young black man by the name of Franklin enters the condo and sees Trevor.

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Michael: It's not like that.

Franklin: What's not like that?

Trevor: Hey! Hey there. You and him, the old father-son issues. Gives me the fuckin creeps.

Franklin: How's the leg rub?

Trevor: Oh, it's excellent. You wanna go?

Franklin: No, I'm good dog.

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Franklin then greets Michael with their own handshake as Trevor begins to explain his plan.

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Trevor: Hey, I called you boys to discuss this job that I've been planning.

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Trevor stands up properly and heads to the board while Floyd and Wade go to the other room to give them some space.

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Michael: The fuck are you talking about?

Trevor: Shut the fuck up Michael, alright? You owe me.

Michael: Hey, did you talk to Lester?

Trevor: I called him. He's in the hospital or something, alright? We keep him out, and we get twenty percent. Well, unless of course, you go states again and have me arrested.

Michael: Hey. It wasn't like that.

Trevor: It better not have been.

Michael: Yeah? Like you give a fuck.

Trevor: Oh, see I give a fuck, Michael. It's a position. A fucking viewpoint alright? Like God. Like evolution. Like anything else. Sunshine, boredom, lies. That's what we got. Other people, they have other worlds, but for me? I'm like a vulture just circling the desert looking for fucking corpses, y'know? A carrion-eating motherfucker. Do you understand that?

Michael: (Laughs) Wow...

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Michael then starts sarcastically clapping his hands.

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Michael: Bravo! You fucking idiot!

Franklin: Man, I still don't get the score. What's the fucking plan?

Trevor: We got Floyd, alright?

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The second he hears his name, he hurries over to see what Trevor wanted but Trevor quickly gets annoyed when he sees him.

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Trevor: Not... Fuck, get out of here, alright!

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Floyd quickly hurries back to the room he was in so he doesn't piss Trevor off any more than he already has.

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Trevor: Now Floyd here works at the port. He puts me under Merryweather security, who are running some tests out at sea for Uncle Sam. We're going to take whatever they're testing. Now, I got a couple buyers lined up. I guarantee no problems and no major heat. Let's get going alright! Let's take our slightly-past-it vibe to an airfield where I got a sub. I got a chopper; I got everything we need. Alright! Let's do this ya fucks!

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As Trevor and the guys head out, he stays back on the white stairs and pulls out his phone. He knows he'll be in Sandy Shores for a couple of days and he needs to let you know about it.

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...Meanwhile...

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You're in one of the fitting rooms trying out a few shirts. You're thinking about also getting your hair and nails done after this. Or maybe you should wait for the weekend to do that. Your phone then starts to ring and you see that it's Trevor.

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*Y/n: Hey, what's up?*

*Trevor: Hey Y/n, I'm going to Sandy Shores for a couple of days. A great opportunity for my business came up. I'll come right back to Los Santos as soon as I get it done. Are you going to be alright on your own?*

*Y/n: Yeah, no worries.*

*Trevor: Alright, well I'll see you when I get back.*

*Y/n: Alrighty, I'll see ya.*

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He hangs up but then he calls someone else. He calls the number Antonia sent him earlier.

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*???: Mr. Philips, nice to meet you.*

*Trevor: So everybody in the Bottino family knows my name?*

*???: Oh yeah, I mean, you did save Sonny's only kid. He's been speaking highly of you since. Now, Antonia told me about your daughter. I have all the technology I need to get to an exact location and I can either follow her around without her knowing or with her knowing and I can be at her side at all times. Which would you like?*

*Trevor: I need you to follow her around without her knowing. If anyone messes with her, and I do mean "anyone", then let me know and I'll take the pleasure of taking care of them myself. I'm going to be gone for two days and I need to know she's protected.*

*???: Sure thing boss. I'm heading over to her location right now. At the end of the day, I'll share with you the report.*

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The mysterious bodyguard hangs up the phone and gets to work. Trevor, on the other hand, comes down the stairs and gets in his truck where Michael and Franklin were waiting for him. Michael is sitting in the passenger seat while Franklin had to sit in the back, which was the trunk of the truck. Trevor puts his seatbelt on and they take off.

Back to you. You're sitting in the back of a taxi on you're way back to the hotel. And while he's driving you back, you talk with Jimmy over the phone.

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*Jimmy: I overheard my dad's going with Trevor to Sandy Shores for a couple of days. That's sweet! I get the whole house to myself!

*Y/n: You know what? There's a tech store near the hotel I'm staying at. I'm going to buy a couple of game stations and can we play online together.*

*Jimmy: Sweet! Make sure you get Dead Before Redemption, Modern War, Dead After Daylight, and Call of Warfare.*

*Y/n: Yeah, and I also wanna get Animal Village: Camp Crossing. I'll let you know when I get back and we can play.*

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...Night Comes...

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*???: Mr. Phillps, nothing to report. Your daughter went shopping, went back to the hotel by cab, walked around the beach, and went into a video game store before going back into the hotel. Safe and sound.*

*Trevor: Good. I'll be out of town for a couple of days, and I'll need you to stick around until I get back.*

*???: Will do.*

*Trevor: You know, I didn't quiet your name.*

*Jack: I go by Jack.*

*Trevor: Jack. Well Jack, what are your other services?*

*Jack: I don't understand what you mean.*

*Trevor: Ah come on, you know. You can stalk a guy, but can you kill a guy? Can dismember a guy for calling you Canadian and run over a cop? Commit acts of cannibalism? How do you feel about expanding your career in Trevor Phillip Industries?*

*Jack: No thanks. My services are strictly for the Bottino Family.*

*Trevor: Come on buddy, you don't know what you're missing.*

*Jack: I will call you tomorrow night for the next report Mr. Phillips.*

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Jack then hangs up on him. Trevor just lets out a small sigh before he heads towards the chopper.

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Michael: Hey, are we doing this or what?

Trevor: Easy Michael. I know we're far away from your next colonics and yoga session. But the least you could do is not bitch until we finish the job.

Michael: Oh fuck you.

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Trevor gets into the submarine while Michael and Franklin hop into the military chopper and they take off. The military chopper carries the submarine with Trevor inside and they fly towards their location. There's just one more thing Trevor needs to do before he gets his head in the game.

Right now, you're playing Call of Warfare online with Jimmy. You two are on the same team and you're in charge of snipping enemies coming out to the rooftop to the grounds below.

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Y/n: Jimmy, someone's coming out by the east side of the abandoned facility, can you take him?

Jimmy: You're talking to the master of shooting assholes. Just watch this.

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Jimmy's character comes out of the corner and instantly gets killed by headshot by the same guy you just warned him about.

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Jimmy: Uh, that didn't count.

Y/n: Don't worry, I got him.

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With just one shot, you kill the guy by headshot. The round ends and your team wins. You then see your phone vibrate in front of you and see that it's Trevor calling you.

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Y/n: Oh hang on Jimmy.

Jimmy: Take your time couzette.

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You take off your gaming headphones and answer the call.

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*Y/n: Hey dad.*

*Trevor: Are you doing okay so far?*

*Y/n: Yeah Dad, I'm doing okay. I just got a gaming station today and now I'm playing online with my cousin Jimmy. Well, I know we're not technically cousins but I don't mind.*

*Trevor: That's good to hear. Just don't play those games all night or more than you have to. Are you hungry? I can get someone to bring you food and snacks.*

*Y/n: No thanks, I got plenty of snacks.*

*Trevor: Alright, I'll call you tomorrow. Night kid.*

*Y/n: Night Dad, have fun with the business thing.*

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Trevor hangs up and gets his head in the game. Merryweather is definitely not going to steal themselves. So someone has to do it.