A Series of Unlikely Gaming Stories 4 – The Random Saint

Ya know, that sorta weird thing that randomly happens? Just outta the blue? Like god giving you a sign and you don’t know what t’do with it? I think I mighta had one of them moments. Well, more like a few hours. You’ll get what I mean. I gotta explain it all.

So I was just, you know, doing the rounds. Having fun. Being me. Running around, letting the Steelport wind blow me tits around. It’s a shitty little island metropolis but I like doing me job with fuck all on. I was in the middle’a beating some Morningstar cunt up when I got a buzz from Zimos. Everyone seems ta think that he’s a bit freaky, but I don’t give a fuck. Ain’t my place ta judge.

Yeah, Zimos calls me and tells me ’bout some kinda shipping thing. Morningstar bringing a buncha whores since we keep on stealing them all. Shitty trafficking standards, those fuckers ‘ave, just shoving them in containers, stuffin’ them on a ship then treatin’ them like shit. The Saints look after their prozzies. Treat ’em like human beings and stuff, ya know? Literally no fucking reason not to.

It’s gonna be a solo thing. Just me, my guns, and fuck all else. Get in, get out wit’ a buncha bitches.

So I get ta the docks and grab a speedboat, drivin’ myself out ta the ship the Morningstar are using. They’re like, waitin’ at customs, trying to talk their way outta revealing what’s on their boat, hidin’ from the authorities.

But as soon as I clamber up to the container level, I spot another boat! Little speedboat like mine. Some sexily dressed, nearly-as-naked-as-I-am woman wearin’ the same Saints brand I like to wear (when I can be bothered ta wear clothes…) and already she’s takin’ out some of them Morningstar near where she is. Thought this was a solo thing, but eh, why not? I coulda done with the help. Plus, she’s got a nice ass, so that’s all good. Accordin’ to Zimos, her name’s Crawley.

It’s all goin’ pretty alright, funnily enough. She ain’t said a thing though, and I’m too busy shooting shit and saving whores to be able to say anything back. By the time we’ve got everyone inta the boat, Crawley’s on a turret covering my ass. I use my RPG to cover her as she finishes off and leaps to the boat.

Job’s all done and dusted. Those whores will have a better time with the Saints. Crawley is still around.

Before I can ask her what the fuck she’s doing here, we get a call from Pierce about needin’ some protection. He’s gotta buncha deals he wants ta finalize so me and Crawley jack a car, meet up with Pierce and start drivin’ to these deals. All’s well and good but those fuckin’ Morningstar are back. Probably pissed off that we fucked with ’em.

As we get to our third drop off, there’s gotta be a frickin’ army chasing after us. Pierce is doin’ fuck knows what, and there’s a buncha brutes with fuckin’ flamethrowers running around!

Ya see, that’s the downside ta running around nude. There ain’t much protection from explosions and sniper rifle shots. There’s like, a ton of them, and I get myself knocked down on my ass. That was when I expected Crawley to leg it. But nah, she sticks around, gets me off my sorry butt and helps me get Pierce into a car. She takes her own car and we drive off back to my crib.

Thankfully, we managed ta get away, and a buncha Saints clear up the mess we left behind.

Once I get back ta our HQ, I drop Pierce off and wait for Crawley. I gotta buncha questions that I ain’t been able t’ask her.

But she doesn’t arrive.

I wait a bit more. I check my GPS. She was on it earlier. Now it’s empty.

So I wait a bit longer.

She never turns up.

Don’t think I ever saw her again.

Shame, she was awesome.

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