ALL NOTES WILL COME THROUGH HERE. IT'S EASIER THAT WAY.

Note: The inspiration for this story comes from Quentin Tarantino's flicks, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, if you haven't seen them and you're a GTA fan, you should. I've also had inspiration from several other sources including movies like Scarface, Road to Perdition, and Die Hard.

Summary: 8-ball breaks out of Prison with his cellmate Trent, they hook up with Fido and form a team that no one can beat. Unless Max Payne has something to say about it, he tracks Trent from New York and decides to try himself. R for serious language and brutal violence. Later on in the story there will be a link to Vice City and Tommy Vercetti.

Chapters in this story don't have titles, they have numbers which indicate the order events take place in (don't actually read them in order, it's just there so you don't get confused) Chapters also have characters names which indicate who the main character is for that particular chapter. Some chapters may or may not have two numbers indicating that it overlaps two different time periods.

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Grand Theft Auto or Max Payne. Nor do I have any legal ownership of Movies, Video Game Titles, Books, Songs, T.V. Shows etc... That might end up in this story or my notes. I enjoy my freedom as a writer, but please don't use any of my characters without asking me first.

Grand Theft Auto III: Surviving Liberty:

FIDO:

Fido is inside his cramped hideout at Eddie's Auto Parts. Nobody calls him anything except for Dog or Fido, he lives there but Fido is not Eddie. On the bed is a blonde prostitute he 'does her' hard moving quickly but quietly. It is his favorite way to pass the time and it made him feel a lot better after a hard day's work, a must in his business.

Falling rain stomps hard on Fido's window, an endless fountain of falling water. Inside, the woman's screams of pleasure. Outside, a woman's screams of anguish. Outside, a passing Diablo Stallion blasts Game Radio. Inside, the antics of Lazlow, and his critically crushed, but amazingly humerous radio talk show Chatterbox.

Outside Fido hears the familiar sound of a car crash. He ignores it. 'Why the hell should he care this is Liberty?' He continues, another thunderous metallic outburst breaks his concentration, but again he doesn't completely stop.

He continues on as yelling builds outside, he hears a voice scream; "Take the Banshee this guy won't miss it!" The hell he won't the Banshee is by far Fido's favorite car. Fido suddenly has the urge to stop, he throws the hooker on the bed, and zips up his pants.

"What about my money?"

Fido pulls out a wad of cash and throws it at her, as if to say 'THERE now get the hell out of my face!' The money scatters across the floor making the hooker play fifty-two card pick up with hundred dollar bills. As the woman leaves he goes under his bed and grabs a 12 gauge shotgun. He turns off the radio then sets the shotgun down against the doorframe.

He kicks his way through the green revolving door, out into the pouring rain. He pulls a Barretta from his coat pocket and aims.

Three prisoners, Triads, run towards him chained together. He knows they're not the ones who want to steal his car, none of them even speak English that well. Regardless he fires three times, the Triad on his left is hit by all three shots, in the chest, the throat, and the face, he goes down a bloody mess. The Triad on the right of Fido raises a semi-familiar brown object Fido realizes what it is: A flamethrower. Fido quickly ducks back inside, hearing the plume of fire pound his door.

Fido decides he has two choices, he can either: Stay inside and wait for the Triad to run out of fuel and deal with the sweltering heat. Or: Go out the door shooting like a madman and pray that he isn't burned beyond recognition.

He decides without hesitation 'Choice number two.' He looks out the window, an orange flame moves across it like water, leaving the glass framed in streaks of black and brown.

'Perfect' he thinks as he kicks the door open, this time he has the shotgun ready. He cocks it and fires, the man on his right is taken out with a single shot to the chest, the man in the middle is thrown off balance and falls backward.

Fido moves slowly towards him and puts the smoking gun barrel on the Triad's cheek, burning him. The Triad begs him in Chinese to let him go. Fido ignores him and pumps out the shell, it lands next to the Triads face giving him a glimpse of it before his head is blown to bits. Fido pulls the trigger, and shows no compassion.

As he moves towards his garage he hears two men's voices inside, quiet, whispering.

"Man, why the fuck did you wait?"

"Cuz I wanted to see the motherfucker work, that's why I waited."

"Let's get out of here!"

Fido can't see inside, the garage door is slightly shut, but he can hear the scratching of a knife hit the metal of his car. He swiftly throws open the rest of the garage door and points his shotgun. Inside is a man, fairly young, with dark hair and brown eyes crouched down next to his car picking the lock with a pathetic little pocket knife. The man startled, falls backward looking up at Fido through the barrel of the shotgun. Fido looks around the car for the other man, but doesn't see anyone, he won't move from that spot his focus is on the dark-haired man.

A familiar voice comes from the left side of the Banshee, "I TOLD you that motherfucka's RUTHLESS!" 8-ball rises into view from the other side of the car. Trent has a fading New York accent and looks to be at least partially Italian. Both men are in orange inmates clothes.

"Friend of yours 8-ball?"

"I already told you he's a friend of mine, this's Fido. Fido this's Trent."

"Nice to meet you." Trent shakes Fido's hand then looks at 8-ball, "Does he talk?"

"Yeah he talks. I think. Never said much though. Fido my man, Trent here needs a job, you know where he can find one?" Fido nods his head 'Yes.'

"Good, sorry about the car we were kinda' in a hurry." Fido shrugs. Then takes out a keychain and presses a button, the convertable top lifts.

"Okay let's go." Trent says jumping into the Banshee.

"No wait we can't go in that... I mean, hey if you guys want to go on jobs alone that's your fuckin' business, but I need a job too, so I might as well go with you. If that's not a problem."

"Not a problem." Trent says jumping out of the car. "We'll just take the Blista."

They step over the bodies of the fallen Triad's moving towards a Blista van that has crushed the back of a flipped ambulance, the ambulance had crashed up against the corner of a brick wall, at the entrance lot to Eddie's Auto Parts.

"Wait," Trent says stopping them, "what's his name?"

"I don't know his fuckin' real name, he doesn't have ID and he never speaks. How the hell am supposed to know his name?"

"Well you got to call him somethin' I'm not gonna be screamin' 'hey you, in the fuckin' leather jacket!' all the time!"

"His fuckin' name is Dog alright! He works like one, like a fucking animal."

Fido holds up his bloody shotgun smiling. The three of them get into the van casually and drive away, Trent in the back, Fido driving, and 8- ball in the passanger seat.

They drive off looking for work.