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tyrvarg

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Everything posted by tyrvarg

  1. "I'm no stranger to this kinda business, but this is sure a far cry from sellin meth out of the trailer park back home and sticking up junkies who can't pay their debts." Tyr mumbled to himself. He'd been in LS for a few weeks now but was absolutely disgusted by the grind of trying to work a "legit" job in this town. A chance encounter with the boss of the local Yakuza led to a meeting of opportunity, however. Within a few short hours of meeting his new brothers and sisters, it was time to get some work in. "Sure better than delivering mail!" Tyr chuckled counting the cool couple G's just a few minutes "work" put in his pocket. A few short jobs and a quick getaway. A man could get used to this life. Only one thing was bothering Tyr once the crew split up to lay low for a bit. "Does this mean I gotta learn Japanese?"
  2. ((DONT META ME BRO PLS)) From the files of Dr. Goldman, Minnesota State Prison Psychologist: "Inmate Lindholm, Anders. Alias Tyr. Age 31, blond hair, blue eyes, five foot ten inches. Mandatory psychological evaluation and counseling as conditions of release from state custody. Inmate Lindholm, let's start with your childhood and upbringing." "I'm only talking to you so I can get out of this fuckin shithole joint." "That's fine Mr. Lindholm, please let's begin." With a bored sigh, Tyr begins, "I grew up in a small town in rural Minnesota, the kind you educated city people think is full of inbreds. Dad was from the old country, mom was a meth addict, left when I was young. Dad got cancer from workin the mines when I was 12, so I had to help pay the bills." "So is that when you first started selling drugs, Mr. Lindholm?" "It's beyond statute of limitations and I was a juvie, so yeah I was sellin pills and pot and mugging rich kids to keep our lights on and bills paid." "What about as you grew up, Mr. Lindholm?" "Joined the Army at 17, soon as they'd take me. It was that or work in the mines, and I wasn't about to bust my ass for the next forty years for chump change. Got into an airborne recon unit, did a few tours overseas, Iraq, Afghan, Somalia. Did my 5 years and got out. Came home to find out my old man was dead and the state seized the house to pay his medical debts." "Ok Mr. Lindholm, so this is when you started selling hard drugs?" "You already know that, it's why I'm here. Had to survive somehow. Hooked up with a few other white boys from the area, hung around with one of the MC's for a bit. Got my trap house and was sellin and helpin my brothers collect debts. It's all in my file from the trial." "Yes but I want to hear your side for evaluation purposes Mr. Lindholm. When and how were you caught on the charges you were sentenced for?" "Brother of mine called me up needed a debt collected. The ""Brother"" and the junkie piece of shit who owed him both rolled over as soon as the cops showed up. I got 2 years after the plea deal down to possession and simple assault." "But your sentence got extended to five years, Mr. Lindholm. Tell me the circumstances behind that." "You're a fucking broken record, shrink. It's all in my file. You staff here know better than anyone that the guards pit the races against each other in here. Blacks against whites, against mexicans, against asians. If you wanna survive you gotta clique with your race and put in work. So I stabbed that fucking child molester black toad motherfucker. He had it coming. My only regret is he didn't die. The CO's use the white boys to take out the trash and I don't care who knows it." "So you have very strong feelings about sex criminals, Mr. Lindholm?" "What sane fucking human being doesn't?" "Hmmm. Okay Mr. Lindholm, so your release date is coming up. What are your plans?" "I'm moving out of state. Where no one knows me and the cops don't have my ink and face on file with a ""Dangerous Individual"" tag. I think I'll go to the west coast. San Andreas sounds like a nice change from cold ass Minnesota." "And what do you plan to do once you're there, Mr. Lindholm?" "Probably get a job, try to have a decent normal life. I'm not good at much but there's gotta be decent work in the city." "Alright Mr. Lindholm, I'm going to recommend to the board that you are psychologically sound and safe for release and I wish you luck in the future." "Get fucked, Doctor" Two weeks later in sunny Los Santos, San Andreas: As he sighs to himself over a cheap fast food burger on his lunch break, Tyr mutters under his breath, "Delivering mail fucking sucks. Pay ain't even enough to get an apartment, and I can barely keep my car in gas. My bad for buying a classic." He continues to mutter under his breath, "I've already met some dudes around here I know are cliqued up just by lookin at em. I could make a lot more money, faster if I find a crew and get back to what I'm good at." He turns back to his greasy burger. "Yeah thanks Uncle Sam, this is what I got shot twice for. Minimum wage slavin and artery cloggin shit."
  3. Hey hey, I've been hangin around town for a bit but finally decided to drop by and say what's up. Lookin forward to hangin out with some of y'all and having good times.
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