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Grand Theft Auto: Troy's Story	By : Mikey Category: +G through L > Grand Theft Auto Views: 494 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Grand Theft Auto, its locations or characters. I do not make money from writing this story. This work is of pure fiction. None of those events have really happened.

Chapter List
- 1-Gangsta Bang - Phone 1
- 1
Back in the days, it was easier to unlock car doors. All you needed was a car opening kit and that was it.
– Troy
“Life used to be tougher in Brix back in the days”, Troy relates. “Luckily for me I am a runner, and a fast one on top of that.”
There is a moment of silence then, Troy resumes his monologue: “I know what you think. A Melano, who’s runnin’ fast and who steals for a living. Quite the usual image of our ethnic group, hey?”
“I said nothing”, the woman, who is wearing a business outfit, sitting in front of him says.
“I know that look upon your face. Seen it often.”
“Let’s get back to your most interesting story, Troy.”
“What about your story miss…?”
“My name's not your business.”
“We're going to be here for a long time. Might as well know the name of my interlocutor.”
“Missy. The name’s Missy.”, the criminal profiler says once she has given it a thought.
“Clever girl. I like that.”
“Troy, your petty flirt won’t work on me so, could you just get on with it.”
“Ouh. A will of iron. Love it.”
“Troy, please.”
“Alright, alright. It started way before that, when I joined up in ‘86. It was then that I first shot someone in cold blood. I was 16 back then.”
The woman in front of Troy frowns, nods, takes some notes, and makes a sign with her hand that means he can go on.
“But the events you are more interested in happened about 12 years later.”
23 years ago or so…
Troy is fairly disoriented. His sight is strangely distorted. A half-naked girl is bent forward inside the rear section of a car that is not his. Another one, laying on her back, is obviously given a cunni.
The receiving girl sighs, moans, and whines loudly as the giving girl does the same but on a lower tone since she is busy feasting. Troy rams the bent girl’s pussy like a piston; his hands on both sides of her heart-shaped ass and his eyes on the wobbling breasts of his other partner.
“Fuuuck”, the laid girl bleats, “I’m gonna cuuum. Fuck.”
Through the harmony of Hahhhs, Hmmms and Ooohs, Troy can hear the flips and flops of wet pussy and tongue.
The laid girl’s eyes roll back, she grips her fingers around the rod of the back and front seat headrests as she opens her mouth wide. Being witness to tht is such a turn on for him that pounds even faster but, all of a sudden, he feels as if he is pulled away; he wakes up. A chilly waft of air effloresces his bare sinewy chest.
The pops and slurps are loud enough for Troy to hear them; he is receiving a morning head. He closes his eyes, enjoying the moment for a time.
The girl’s mouth is warm and cozy, her lips and her fingers, which are enrolled around his shaft, apply enough pressure to make him feel pleasant stirs.
He then mingles his fingers in the dark taper-haircut of the generous melano woman.
Pop!
“Baby”, the girl says, showing some disappointment, “thought you’d wake up sooner.”
“Had a pleasant dream.”
“Really”, she says, obviously amused, while kissing and playing with Troy’s erected forearm-length cock.
“Really”, Troy replies, smiling.
“Is that dream comin’ true”, she honestly asks.
This is a crazy bitch’s question to which there is no good answer. If you answer No, she will think she is not up to the task, and if you say Yes, she will believe you said it on purpose.
Luckily for him, his pager beeps twice. Troy extends his hand to catch it. As he reads the message, he feels the rough softness of the girl’s tongue licking his glans.
Answer the South Park phones to get jobs. Keep your eyes open for opportunities. Remember - you mess up, we mess you up.
Troy rolls his eyes and sighs deeply. That message is obviously from Buddy, his immediate boss.
“What’s wrong”, she asks.
“Gotta go.”
“Is this some kind of joke? Ya know, whateva. Get outta here.”
“Wait, Divine.”
“I said pick ya clothes up and get out before I change my mind and throw 'em outta window.”
“Alright, alright. Catch ya later then?!”
“I don’t think so.”
Troy dresses quickly and heads out and down the stairs. The neon bar sign is not lighted yet; it is too early in the morning. The light blue Bulldog that is his is waiting for him. Wasting no time, he gets in his car and drives south; he will have to eat on the way.
The Bulldog moves swiftly through traffic. As soon as it reaches its destination, the coupe stops and is parked near the 4 public phones.
While waiting for the phone to ring, Troy turns on the radio.
“It is the only June 30th of ‘98 that you will ever live so make the best of it”, the radio host says. “So, Chelsea, how's the morning traffic today?”
“Well Tod, the bridge between Southwest Park and Schelchberg is out of service for major repairs”, the radio co-hostess announces. “Traffic to west land is diverted through either the south highway or north bridge between Island Heights/No Law and Eaglewood/Fort Law.”
Troy stops listening to Chelsea who summarizes the heavy traffic of the morning, and figures out the streets he'll have to take to get to New Guersney, Hackenslash and other west land neighbourhoods.
A ringing of a nearby phone pulls him out of his planning. The walkway is crowded and passers-by stare strangely at the ringing phone. Troy steps out of the car and races for the phone.
“Crazy Jimmy's dumped a car in North East Park”, Buddy says. “Find it before the cops do - or die.”
The phone is hung, ending the phone call. Troy hangs the handset and races back to his car then, he leaves on the wheel caps.
“Ah man”, he complains aloud as he pulls the Bulldog behind the teal Mundano. Quickly afterwards, he wriggles as he puts on his undercover shirt and shoulder holster under his hooded vest.
Once out of his car, he locks the doors even though he knows that anyone proficient enough with a car opening kit can get inside and crosswire it to start. Then, he heads for the Mundano and searches the rear wheel opening where C.J., almost if not always, hides the key sets.
Bingo!
Troy slips his driving gloves on and gets in the driver seat. Just a tick before he starts the car, he receives another message on his pager.
Bring the car to Dulli's in West Park. Move it! We got some fresh pussy here!
The Mundano follows the street that surrounds the park until it reaches Dulli's mechanic shop. As soon as it comes near the door, the said door is rised and the Mundano rolls in.
“Troy”, the clerk hails him.
“Is Dulli here?”
“He's out for a road test. He should be back soon”, the clerk says, then the phone rings. The clerk answers: “He's here. Alright, boss.”
“I guess I gotta go.”
“Same as always.”
“Here are the keys. See ya.”
Jimmy needs a driver. Talk to him on the phone at the South West Park subway.
Too bad, my Bulldog is still in North East Park, Troy thinks as he walks into a jog.
Fortunately, his long legs allow him to cover much distance compared to those who have shorter limbs. The phone rings twice before Troy is next to it.
“Leave that phone alone”, Troy yells at a passer-by who is about not to mind his own business.
The passer-by steps from the phone and walks away, ranting.
“'Sup”, Troy answers once he grabs the handset.
“There's a cab with fake plates in South East Island City”, Jimmy says. “Pick it up, then pick me up outside the bank in South Park.”
God dammit! Island City! Gotta cross the pass over the highway.
As desperate times call for desperate measures, Troy pulls his handgun out of its holster, runs toward the closest car available, and knocks on the window with the barrel.
The sight of the weapon is enough to instill panic to the granny who holds the wheel. In the hopes of fleeing, the crone almost embeds the accelerator in the floor. The champagne Jugular shoves the rear end of the car in front of it.
The shock causes the granny to lose her wig and the driver of the Thunderhead to step out of his car and watch the damage of the bump.
“Get back in your car, sir.”
“But the bitch...”
“Get back in your fuckin' car”, Troy yells, “or I'll shoot you dead man!”
The driver understands that his only way out of this is to sit back in his car and drive away. Troy knocks again against the window and the crone finally gives up. She steps out of her beloved car and limps away, as fast as she can, to the nearby walkway.
Enough time has been spent on this interlude so Troy gets in the Jugular and heads southward. He rolls on the overpass to get to Island City hood then he drives south, further south, then west just before the bridge to Brocklyn Docks/Tellburg.
He finally arrives at destination, abandons the Jugular behind the building where the cab is, frisks the rear wheel opening of the cab to find the keys, then he starts it. The engine roars as Troy presses the accelerator pedal down to the floor.
He drives north. The cab rolls on the overpass and heads east to South Park where C.J. is supposed to be waiting for him. An alarm rings as the cab is pulled over in front of the bank, there are gunshots and C.J. runs out of the bank with a bag.
“Bubby's got a sticky love nest in South Island Heights”, the robber says once he hurriedly closes the rear door of the cab. “Take me there.”
Troy engages the 1st gear and drops the clutch pedal as he sinks the accelerator to the floor. The front tires screech as the cab leaves on wheel caps.
In the rear view mirror, Troy sees the security guards coming out of the bank. North he drives, following the street but at high speed; the squads must have been called already.
A few blocks away, a white and blue patrol car is driving southwards with its red and blue beacons on. Its tires screech suddenly in an emergency braking then again when the driver turns it around to follow the fast moving cab.
This buys Troy a window of a few seconds. The engine of the cab roars as he downshifts in 3rd to outstrip a Transit Van in an illegal overtaking.
“Get outta the way asshole”, Troy yells.
“We’re comin’ in hot”, C.J. says on the phone. “Open the door. Quick!”
The cab moves up the opposite lane before it overtakes the van. Then, it keeps going north and east. The hoots echo behind it.
“Shit man! They’re gainin’ on us”, C.J. warns.
“We’re almost there.”
The light turns red at the crossroad but Troy cannot stop. Then again, he pulls the cab in the opposite lane and hears You’re crazy man! I don’t wanna die!
Horns and crash sounds are heard as the cab passes-by the stopped vehicles and crosses the path of those coming across the crossroad.
A door leading inside a nearby building is opened. Troy drifts around some stopped vehicles and gets in while the door is closing on them. He turns off the engine.
Not bad, kid. I'm gonna make sure ya get ya cut. You wanna come in for coffee, uh?
“Maybe you should lay low for a while”, Crazy Jimmy suggests. “800. That’s the deal right?”
C.J. hands Troy his cut and gossips as they climb the stairs leading to the second story of the building; it is time for Troy to break the fast.
- 1
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Grand Theft Auto: Troy's Story