Michael: |
Whoa...nice place you got there. |
Trevor: |
Oh, yeah, it's easy to mock, isn't it, uh? Cheap and fucking easy. But, err, this? This here is my place, and my work paid for my place. |
Michael: |
Alright, relax, I was just being sarcastic. |
Trevor: |
Yeah, well, don't be, alright, because, err, the world doesn't need any more sarcasm, it's the blight of the age. |
Michael: |
Yeah, I get the point. |
Trevor: |
You? You don't get the point. You're like every other asshole. You made a bit of money and you became a turd. |
Michael: |
I've got news for you - I was always a turd. |
Trevor: |
No! You weren't, man, you were something, but now, man, yeah, you're like this place, you're a shell! |
Michael: |
Go fuck yourself. Are you some kind of pure, morally justifiable asshole?! What, because you're...you're totally psychotic, somehow it's okay? |
Trevor: |
I'm honest, alright? You're the hypocrite. |
Michael: |
Oh, yeah, you're a fucking hero, so far above it all! |
Trevor: |
Oh, yeah? Well, I'm not above ripping open your fucking chest to see what's replaced your heart. |
Michael: |
Rip it open, see what's there, baby, 'cause I'm ready! |
Steve: |
Hello? Whoa, ladies, ladies, what's up? |
Dave: |
Listen. I'm sorry, but we've got a problem. Government funding thing, we need you to...investigate a research lab up-state. |
Steve: |
It's about terrorism, the big one, nerve gas, biological terror. |
Trevor: |
Thank God I don't pay tax. |
Dave: |
Now listen, you'll need some fairly standard gear: boat, tandem rotor heavy-lift helicopter, truck, weapons. You'll have to source all of that. Chopper alone will set you back a couple of mil. |
Michael: |
Hell, no worries there. Trevor here, he just came into a lot of money. |
Michael: |
Oh, you're fucking A-right it's sarcasm, you fuck! A few weeks ago, I was happily retired, sulking by my swimming pool, and my psychotic best friend shows up out of nowhere to torture me over mistakes I made, honest mistakes I made over a decade ago! We, our little posse, are flat fucking broke, but hey, let's go out and spend two million dollars on a tandem rotor fucking chopper, so I can go steal nerve gas from fucking terrorists! Forgive me, you ignorant fuck, but sarcasm is all I've fucking got! Sarcasm, and a room full of you cunts! |
Trevor: |
YES! Whoo! Welcome back, man, it is the old you. (sarcastically claps) |
Steve: |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, well, we gotta go, it's been great, but Dave here has got a Pilates class. Now, remember, ladies, you keep us way out of this thing. Bye-bye. |
Steve and Dave leave the meth lab. |
Michael: |
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Alright, I'll give Lester a fucking call. He said he knew about something. |
Trevor: |
And you tell him that we're driving towards Paleto Bay. Get in the car. |
Michael and Trevor leave the meth lab and get into Michael's Premier before heading towards Paleto Bay. |
Michael: |
Lemme call Lester. |
Lester (Voice only): |
What now? |
Michael: |
We got a funding problem, so we need a job. Before the jewel store, you talked about a score, a bank in the sticks - I need you to meet us there. Paleto Bay, right? |
Lester (Voice only): |
That's the one. I'll get on a bus. |
Michael: |
Alright, Lester's meeting us there. Don't start. |
Trevor: |
I won't, no way. Good call. If you're taking down a bank for a few million, first thing you do is call the hospital, tell 'em to get you a guy in a wheelchair. |
Michael: |
Oh! This hayseed bank, it going to be carrying that kind of change? |
Trevor: |
Local law enforcement extorts money from all the weed farms, whore houses, meth kitchens in the area. They keep their cash in safe deposit boxes. Then there's all the normal small town payroll stuff. We should do well. |
Michael: |
You know, I've been thinking about you, Trevor. Your lifestyle. |
Trevor: |
Oh, have you? Really? |
Michael: |
Yes, I have. People always try to label you. You know, maniac, psycho... |
Trevor: |
Friend, industry leader... |
Michael: |
In some ways you defy categorization. But then... |
Michael: |
Think about it, where you live... |
Trevor: |
Sandy Shores, you precious ass. I'm sorry there ain't a place nearby for you to get your colonics. |
Michael: |
Right. But why are you out here? |
Trevor: |
It's off the grid. We're away from it all. It's somewhere real and authentic. This is America, and real people ain't been priced out yet. |
Michael: |
Yeah, well, what if it gets gentrified? |
Trevor: |
Then I'll fucking move. |
Michael: |
Okay, what about the way you dress? |
Trevor: |
What about it? I don't give a shit what I wear. |
Michael: |
No, no, no. If you don't give a shit, you wear clean clothes that fit. See, yours are all a little out there, you know, a little wacky. |
Trevor: |
Whatever's in the shop is what I get. Jesus, wh-what is this? |
Michael: |
It's not an absence of taste, T, it's the opposite of taste. |
Trevor: |
You should be a stylist. |
Michael: |
And then there's the tattoos, the hair, the weird music, the funny toys, the niche drugs, the everything. |
Trevor: |
What the fuck are we talking about?! |
Michael: |
You...are a hipster! |
Michael: |
You're a hipster. |
Michael: |
Classic hipster denial. |
Trevor: |
I abhor hipsters. I eat them for fun. |
Michael: |
(laughs) Hipsters love saying they hate hipsters. |
Trevor: |
Well, I really fucking do. |
Michael: |
Self hatred. Common hipster affliction. |
Trevor: |
Why, only because I'm living out here away from the Bean Machines, and the bankers? |
Michael: |
You're gentrifying. Soon, the skinny jeans will show up, then the skinny lattes, and then the bankers. And you'll be somewhere else starting the cycle all over again. Maybe you're not a classic garden variety hipster, but you're what the hipsters aspire to be. You, Trevor, are the proto-hipster. (laughs) |
Trevor: |
I don't know what you're talking about. I don't agree with what you're saying. You're talking bullshit, and you're trying to wind me up. But I'm very, very angry, and I want this conversation to stop right away. |
Trevor: |
Fuck you. Fuck you, Michael! Say it again. |
Michael: |
I've made my point. I'm not a sadist. |
Lester (Voice only): |
Michael, how's your vacation? |
Michael: |
Just great. Paradise. Only it's turning into a work trip. I remember you mentioning something about a bank in the sticks. |
Lester (Voice only): |
Uh-huh. |
Michael: |
That wasn't Paleto Bay by any chance? |
Lester (Voice only): |
That's the one. |
Michael: |
Alright, look, I'm heading there with Trevor. Can you get down here and help us scope it out? |
Lester (Voice only): |
Okay, sure. I'll get on a bus. |
Michael: |
Oh, Lester's coming, so you know. |
Trevor: |
I don't mind cutting the invalid in on a score we gotta give to the Feds. |
Michael: |
Yeah, well, there might be something in it for us, too. How much they say they needed? |
Trevor: |
(sigh) Two mill plus. |
Michael: |
Oh! This hayseed bank, it going to be carrying that kind of change? |
Trevor: |
Local law enforcement extorts money from all the weed farms, whore houses, meth kitchens in the area. They keep their cash in safe deposit boxes. Then there's all the normal small town payroll stuff. We should do well. Us two on another bank. A bank! This is it, man, this is the comeback tour! It's gonna be a ride. |
Michael: |
Yeah, by "a ride", you mean you get to kill people, right? (chuckles) That's my Trevor. You love making a felony into felony murder, don't ya? |
Trevor: |
Oh, I forgot, you're more of an aggravated murder kind of guy. Still ends with the death penalty. |
Michael: |
If they catch you. |
Trevor: |
Then it's just that troubled conscience of yours? |
Michael: |
I've learned to stop blaming me for me. You should try it some time. |
Michael: |
Of course not. You're usually too obliterated to consider your actions with anything approaching deep thought. |
Trevor: |
Whoa, man! What happened to you? Maybe my friend did die that day. |
Michael: |
What happened to me? Life happened, Trevor. Responsibilities. |
Trevor: |
Oh! Ah, this again? Please. You're part of the community now? What if your pals at the country club found out how you paid the membership fee? |
Michael: |
I ain't that popular at the country club. But I'll tell you what, if they did know, they'd probably try and option my life story. |
Trevor: |
Oh God, the stars in your eyes, typical movie geek narcissist. |
Michael: |
I'm not a narcissist. |
Trevor: |
Only narcissists care that much about their tan lines. You've got a sense of entitlement. You think the world owes you something, that's why you take scores, that's why you cut out on me and Brad for a life of empty luxury. |
Michael: |
(chuckles) Oh, you're a therapist now, huh?! Wake up, Trevor. You take scores too. You're as bad as me. What am I saying? There's no possible world in which you're as bad as me. |
Trevor: |
It's not the same. |
Trevor: |
You've got a condition. I have a coherent philosophy. |
Michael: |
Oh? A philosophy? Really?! Dude, you shoulda joined that midlife crisis motorcycle club you massacred, you douche. |
Trevor: |
Yeah, you'd know all about a midlife crisis. |
Michael: |
Hey, your crisis started the day you were born. I'm just catching up. |
Michael and Trevor arrive at Paleto Bay. |
Trevor: |
The bus stop's up here. |
Michael: |
Alright. How long's it take us to get out here from LS? |
Time passes. While Michael is waiting for Lester to arrive at the bus stop, Trevor is sitting on a bench and throws a pebble at Michael. |
Michael: |
Come on, man, knock it off. |
Trevor throws another pebble at Michael. |
Michael: |
I'm going to your break your fucking fingers if you don't knock that shit off. |
Trevor: |
Well, please, alright. You'd alleviate the boredom. |
Michael: |
Welcome to paradise. Come on, car's this way. |
Lester: |
It's dry out here. |
Trevor: |
Don't worry, brother. Michael will take care of all your moisturizing needs. Shall we? |
Lester: |
Might as well get started. |
Lester: |
Okay, let's take a look at this bank. We'll go to the front of the bank, clock the entrance. If the paperwork's correct, the alarm will be a relic. We should be in and out before the local PD knows what's happening. (chuckles) |
Michael drives to the front entrance of the bank. |
Lester: |
That's the entrance to the bank, nothing special. Take us around back. |
Lester: |
*There's an empty lot behind. No one should pay attention to us back there. *Drive over to the empty lot with the open top dumpster in it. |
Michael drives to the empty lot near the bank. |
Michael: |
I like it. The place is remote, it's got the right amount of foot traffic, this'll do. |
Lester: |
Let's check out the alarm to be sure. |
Michael, Lester and Trevor focus on the alarm behind the bank. |
Lester: |
Hmm, it's not ideal. It's going to cost more to break that system than the score's gonna pay. |
Michael: |
Then we're gonna have to find a new score. |
Trevor: |
No no no, uh-uh, no. This is the score. What're our options? |
Lester: |
It's a dumb idea, but we could trigger the alarm, see what kind of response they throw out? |
Michael: |
That is a dumb idea. |
Trevor: |
Hey, you heard the man, alright? Shoot the sucker. |
Michael gets out of the car, sets off the bank's alarm by shooting at it, then gets back into the car. |
Lester: |
Okay, I brought my police scanner. Drive over to the gas station opposite the bank, and we'll monitor chatter. |
Michael drives to the Xero gas station opposite the bank. |
Sheriff Dispatch (Voice only): |
This is Paleto Bay security services frequency, we have a code 30 Adam, alarm going off at Blaine County Savings Bank. All cars in the area, please respond. |
Sheriff Officer (Voice only): |
Paleto Cars 3, 6, 9 and 1 will be there in 50 seconds. |
Sheriff Dispatch (Voice only): |
Roger that, 4 units. Backup team at station is available. |
Lester: |
They've dispatched four cars in 60 seconds, and more on standby. And it isn't even a "30 victor" or a "shots fired". Oh, this is a real headache. |
Michael: |
What you got on the clock? |
Sheriff Dispatch (Voice only): |
This is Paleto security, any updates on the code 30 Adam? Backup ready to mobilize. |
Lester: |
This is not normal, the response is out of proportion. |
Trevor: |
The cops in this county are dirty, and the alarm just went off on their piggy bank. |
Lester: |
This is them. What is that, a 67-second response time? |
Michael: |
Yeah, 4 cars, more in the wings. |
Trevor: |
Bad cops guarding dirty money. Fuck how many, we can take this! |
Lester: |
Wait right here. We'll see if anything about their routine suggests a weakness. |
Sheriff Officer (Voice only): |
Paleto radio, this is Paleto Car 3. We have a code 12, false alarm, possibly triggered intentionally. |
Sheriff Dispatch (Voice only): |
Roger that, we're going to set up checkpoints on the Great Ocean Highway and the Senora Freeway. Car to car searches and record checks. |
Trevor: |
Checkpoints? Searches? Fuck this! I ain't getting caught because Lester needs a wheelchair. |
Trevor gets out of the car and steals a nearby motorcycle. |
Michael: |
Hey, wheelchair or not, we're still faster than your ass! |
Lester: |
I'm not gonna outrun a cop. We've gotta go. |
Michael: |
We're going. And if we're in front of Trevor, he'll be the one running from the cops. |
Michael and Lester race Trevor back to Liquor Ace. |
NOTE: If playing as Michael, the following conversation will occur. |
Lester: |
I shouldn't have come, I shoulda known! |
Michael: |
We're fine. We're gonna get outta here. |
Lester: |
Trevor Philips. Of course this would turn into a car chase. |
Michael: |
We're not being chased. |
Michael: |
Not at all. Look, take a deep breath. We're gonna be fine. We just gotta get back to... |
Lester: |
Trevor's office?! |
Michael: |
When Trevor says "office", he really means... |
Lester: |
A burnt out gas station by the Alamo Sea? I've seen the title of ownership. And judging by the glassware he ordered a year ago, I'm guessing it's a meth lab. A meth lab, just perfect! |
Michael: |
Laboratory don't do it justice. It's more of a shit hole where meth is made. |
Lester: |
Great - nothing like a pharmaceutical bakery to prep up the perfect stick up job! |
Michael: |
Don't worry, it's gonna be fine. Look, you had any ideas about the bank? Are you sure we can't disable the alarm? |
Lester: |
The alarm is a UXVF 1-11 classification, minute-long relay interval, 3rd party verification, multiple monitoring centers...sure, I can disable it. |
Lester: |
But it'll cost more than the job is worth. |
Michael: |
Of course it will. (sigh) So, what do we do? |
Lester: |
We walk away, it's not like we need the money. |
Lester: |
You been day trading? |
Michael: |
No, God no! I mean, yeah, yeah, yeah, I've been trading. But no, that's not why we need the money. |
Lester: |
Then why do you need the money? |
Michael: |
It's...alright, so, there's this research laboratory on the coast. The IAA are using it to manufacture a poison gas that they're gonna release on US soil in order to hope that the government increases their funding. |
Lester: |
That sounds idiotically improbable enough to be possible. But what's it got to do with you and Trevor sticking up the Blaine County Savings and Loan? |
Michael: |
Agent Steve Haines needs two million plus to finance a raid on the lab. And guess who's doing the raid? And guess who's paying for it? |
Michael: |
Yeah, well, I don't really see, but I'm doing it. And it sounds like Trevor would hit this bank for candy and a pat on the head. Now tell me: can we do it, or do we move on? |
Lester: |
You can do it, but you can't do it clean. |
Michael: |
How messy we talking? |
Lester: |
"Taking the cops head on" messy. |
Michael: |
Well, they are dirty cops. |
Lester: |
That's what Trevor says. |
Michael: |
So, do you think we can do it? |
Lester: |
Guys out here aren't trained like the LSPD. They aren't going to be prepared for a well-armed, well-drilled team coming straight for 'em. |
Michael: |
Yeah, well, we need an edge, something to tip the odds in our favor. |
Lester: |
I got a couple of ideas. (chuckles) |
Lester: |
Get off the road up here. This must be Trevor's route through the mountains. |
Michael: |
Dirt track. Might get bumpy. |
If Michael and Lester head through the tunnel... |
Lester: |
Looks like the road takes a dip and a turn after that bridge. Slow down. |
Michael, Lester and Trevor reach the Liquor Ace. |
If Michael wins the race... |
Lester: |
(if playing as Michael) Well, we got here before the lord of the manor. (chuckles) |
Michael: |
The man slows me down. Always has. |
Trevor: |
(if playing as Trevor) Fuck, how'd they get here? |
Michael: |
What took you so long? |
Trevor: |
(mockingly) What took you so long? |
If Trevor wins the race... |
Lester: |
(if playing as Michael) Trevor beat us here. |
Michael: |
Well, at least we weren't arrested. |
Trevor: |
Jesus! What took you so long? |
Michael: |
Had to let you win. |
Michael, Lester and Trevor enter the meth lab. Trevor pulls out a suspicious meal from the refrigerator and puts it in a microwave to heat it up. |
Lester: |
I'll set up a board over here. |
Trevor: |
Michael, man, your blood sugars are low. I'm making you some leftovers. |
Trevor: |
Huh? No, I'm the host, man. You know, I don't want you to get hungry and moody, right? Then you're gonna be making the wrong decisions. |
Michael: |
Man, I've been making wrong decisions my whole life, that's how I ended up here. |
The microwave beeps. Trevor pulls out the meal and serves it to Michael. |
Trevor: |
There you go, bon appetito! |
Michael: |
Jesus Christ, Trevor, what is that? |
Trevor: |
What's wrong with you? That's just a...a what? An eyelid, it's probably not even human. Unless...that gas station job... |
Lester: |
Gentlemen! Some plans for your attention... |
Michael: |
Good. I don't want to stay here a minute longer than I have to. |
While Trevor eats his meal, a planning board for the bank heist is shown, with a map of Paleto Bay and pictures of the bank, a boat as a possible escape plan, and a map of the highlighted route for the military hardware needed for the heist. |
Lester: |
So, I think our little experiment showed that the response will be too quick to beat, and too strong to walk through. That means you've got to face the cops head on. |
Lester: |
...the dirty cops head on. |
Michael: |
Head on? Man, I don't know... |
Lester: |
Eh, you'll be prepared. Convoys carrying military grade hardware pass near here to get to Fort Zancudo. I propose hijacking one, and using the equipment to get an edge on the locals. I can get you the exact details of the shipment as soon as we're done here. Anyway, you won't be outside the bank too long. Paleto Bay is...well, it's a bay. So you're a street away from the water where Franklin can be waiting in a boat to get you out of there. I know none of this is ideal, but it's the only way I can see of taking the score, and providing for your FIB paymasters. |
Michael: |
Fine. We need personnel? |
Lester: |
Just a gunman. He'll be taking on the cops with you, so my advice, choose someone good. |
The player decides on the gunman. |
Lester: |
(If the player chooses Gustavo Mota) Gus Mota. He's a pro, not much else to say. (If the player chooses Norm Richards) Ah, Norm, came across as a bit of an idiot, but could be useful. (If the player chooses Daryl Johns) Daryl, I'm not hearing great things to be honest, but you just might be able to do this with him. |
Trevor: |
(If the player chooses Chef) Eh, think about my buddy, Chef, okay? Consumate professional. |
Lester: |
McReary? He was part of a well-known Liberty City stick-up crew. Small world. |
Michael: |
(If the player chooses Patrick McReary) I got a good feeling about him. |
Michael: |
(If the player chooses a gunman with experience from The Jewel Store Job) * After what went down at the jewelry store, I could definitely take a chance on them again. * They did good at Vangelico, remember? * He handled himself at the jewelry store. |
Lester: |
That it? You sure? |
The player confirms their choices. |
Lester: |
I'll get the equpiment together. Michael, you reach out to Franklin. Trevor, you do what you do. |
Lester: |
And I'll call you when we're ready to move on this. |
Trevor: |
You wanna bunk with us? I mean, it's gonna be tight, but, you know, mi casa su casa. |
Lester: |
I'll, I'll get a motel, thanks. |
Trevor: |
Alright, suit yourself. |
Michael: |
Come on, I'll give you a ride. |
While Michael and Lester leave the meth lab, Trevor puts his meal back into the refrigerator. Moments later, he hurls on the floor. |
Trevor: |
(groans) Weird... (sigh) |
|