Introduction
“Everybody, on the floor, we don’t want to resort to violence!” Ted Thompson played the wildcard, waving his MP5A3 around as he and his stickup crew consisting of himself, Kirby Olsen and Damon West, held up Leighson’s Bank in Bullworth Town. After the school shut down, the town fell apart, people moved away or just waited to rot and die. Businesses closed down and an education meant nothing if you couldn’t earn a legitimate living for yourself. The dregs of the school alumni capitalized on this and are now bleeding this town dry before jetting off to Vice City to live out their final days before some young upstart overthrows their entire organization.
Kirby and Damon were on crowd control, Kirby wielding an AK-47 while Damon held an MP5k-PDW. Around the back, Dan Wilson sat in the driver’s seat of a blue Washington, armed with a MAC 10 for personal protection. Ted led the stickup crew, as always, he managed to get in with Derby before he took over the old school grounds and turned it into a hub for his organization. He housed his thugs in the old school dorms, used the Shop workshop to store his vehicles.
Back in the bank, Ted continued making threats but the Banks Manager wouldn’t give in.
“D, demonstrate the ideal of force to these idiots.” Ted nodded towards a Bank Guard, who was standing against a wall, his pistol on the ground.
“West, if you blast me I will kick your sorry ass in the afterlife!” The Guard threatened.
“Seth Kolbe.” Damon said, a satanic grin appearing on his face. Damon remembered the racial discrimination he had suffered during his last year at Bullworth. “Motherfucker, I’m gonna make you pay.” Damon started to pummel Seth and beat him mercilessly until he was on the floor, bleeding to death. Most of the Prefects went on to better things, Karl Branting joined the Marines, Max MacTavish was part of an elusive Private Military Company and Edward Seymour II was now a Politician in Liberty City, promising to clean up the streets. Ironically now quarter filled by the students his used to punish.
“This is the Bullworth Fast Response Unit, come out and drop your weapons, putting your hands behind your head!” Police Sergeant Pete Kolwalski ordered through the bullhorn, M16A2 by his side. Petey had finally grew some balls and was leading the Bullworth Fast Response Unit at the tender age of 19. How anyone as fragile as him and as young as he is, is leading the equal to a SWAT Team baffles everyone, but with Norton Williams at his side, how can anyone argue?
“You ready for this boys, we bust out the front and we get our asses to Dan, he’s taking us to the meeting point.” Ted explained the remainder of the plan, not accounting for the large contingent of armed officers awaiting outside.
“I’ll go first seeing as I’ve got the biggest piece.” Kirby got cocky and kicked the banks front doors, sprayed the entirety of his 30 round magazine at the waiting police. Two Police Ranchers were parked across the East and West Road’s and an FRU Enforcer covered the North. A volley of shots were fired but they failed to take down Kirby. “Give me some covering fire, I’ve got the Froo!” He shouted, concealing himself at the cornerstone of the steps. Damon and Ted fired their MP5’s at the police who returned fire with 9mm handguns and shotguns. Once they were supressed, Damon and Ted turned their attention to the FRU Unit, Norton Williams was taking pot-shots but wasn’t hitting them.
“Norton my man, stand down!” Damon paused for a minute, not wanting to have to wound another racial abuse sufferer. Damon watched Norton drop to the floor with his rifle and sat at the front end of the Enforcer. “Good man.”
“Come on, on me.” Ted ordered Damon and Kirby to follow him around behind the bank, where Dan Wilson sat in the getaway Admiral.
“I thought you’d gone down, thank fuck you’re alive.” Dan said happily as they loaded up their duffels bags: one per person with $333,000, totalling at just under One Million Dollars. Obviously Derby would be taking two duffel bags, leaving them to split the remainder, but it sure was worth it. Dan set his foot on the accelerator and headed out into the open, but was cut short by a burst of gunfire.
“Damn you Norton!” Damon shouted as Dan’s head hit the steering wheel and they went full speed into the gas station building. Norton was long gone but one FRU Agent stood with his M4A1 at the ready, aiming at them.
“Get out of the vehicle with your hands behind your head!” He ordered.
“Fuck this.” Kirby got out from behind Dan and fired his AK wildly, while the Agent returned fire with three accurate shots to Kirby’s chest, dropping him. Damon and Ted both gunned the Agent down and hopped out.
“Only two of us and three bags…ditch one and tell Derby we lost Kirby in the street.” Said Ted.
“There’s two dirt bikes, follow me…we’ll take this shit cross country.” Damon chuckled, slinging his duffel bag and mounting the Sanchez, followed by Ted.
Damon spun around the wall and across the road, heading down around near the dam. He crossed the dam and saw to his left that police set up a firing squad across the bridge.
“No other choice.” He revved the bike and took a left, making it under the bridge without getting caught by a stray bullet. Ted just made it but a Police Rancher joined them down the dirt track, the passenger firing a Remington 870 at them. Before reaching the beach, Ted took some buckshot to the back, knocking him off the Sanchez. Damon stopped his bike and dismounted, firing his submachine gun at the officers windscreen, killing them both. Ted was dead as a Dillinger so Damon left him and took the duffel bag, hiding it up as a stash between some rocks, intending to pick it up later.
Damon carried along the dirt path and walked up along the boardwalk where he was met behind the Boxing Gym by Otto Tyler working as one of Derby’s thugs.
“Throw the cash in the back…all of it.” Otto told Damon.
“Been a problem, I’m the only one left, the rest of the cash is with the bodies, police took them down.” Damon explained.
“You better not be fucking with me or Derby, I swear to God I will personally cut your throat if you are West.” Otto set off with the rest of the cash, not even offering Damon a ride.
“Thanks for the offer, asshole!” Damon shouted to the departing Otto. Damon then headed back to his stash and took the bag along with the Sanchez and rode it to Bullworth Airport, a place he never knew existed until he started working for Derby.
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