Brad the Butcher
I never used to be the person I am now, I used to be an everyday farm-boy. Sure, I got into trouble, but life was easy and more simple. I suppose I should start at when my life made the drastic change to what it is now, moving to Los Santos. I moved here out of necessity, my mom passed away and our house was sold to pay off her debt. I knew about my half brother Rob moving out to the city and he seemed to be doing well so I decided to follow. After first moving I had trouble finding a job, the government jobs all required weeks of interviews, I needed money immediately. I was starving on the streets, without a home and I could not find my brother in the city anywhere. I began to get desperate and with my last few dollars I bought a gun from a Zeta out of desperation. I had only ever held a riffle and the feel of the gun felt a bit off at first. Nervous and without a true plan I headed to where I heard people had valuables, the mines. I walked for about an hour, traveling from the city wondering to myself if this was really the right choice. When I got there what I saw was not what I expected, I saw a sea of Yellow cars and heard gunshots. I watched from a safe distance as who I would later call brothers fought with determination against another group of thieves. As I watched the men in yellow seemed to dispose of the other people quite quickly and soon they were all dead. In the aftermath I watched one person in particular a man I would later call Jack he cut open one of the bodies, removing the organs from it. I should have been disgusted but for some reason the movements of the knife fascinated me. Without even thinking I stepped out of my hiding spot and walked right up to the group and said hello. Something about the way they fought and the teamwork they displayed drew me in. Plus there was that man who cut the body. I would like to think that the body was the last reason I decided to come forward but looking back I think it had more to do with it than I initially gave it credit. Anyways, I talked to their leader Richie
and learned that this group was called The Misfits, man... even the name sounded cool. We immediately became friends and it was as if it were meant to be, so I asked if I could roll with them and see what it was like. Long story short it all worked out, I had a family and people I could trust.
I learned how to shoot, how to cook drugs, and how to be a leader. Being that we were at war at the time, there was a lot of fighting. One day after a quite brutal fight I saw a body on the floor, and thought back to that first day where I had seen the dead man gutted. I took my knife and without even really thinking cut into the body, it felt great. I harvested the organs, sloppily, but I got the job done. I don't know why I did this, but it felt right. One of our crew showed me how to sell the organs on the black market, and... well.. it was so much money. How had I not done this sooner? I soon started to become addicted, selling hundreds of pieces of meat per week.
The wars made life expensive, but for me every day was a treat. At one point I even stopped thinking about taking the guns off of those I killed, all I thought about was the meat,
the money. I sold so much the black market crashed and the price of organs was nearly cut in half.
The Misfits started to tell me I had a problem, and I knew they were right, but I could not stop. I was given the name Brad the Butcher and hated it at first. I did not want to accept it. But with time I just learned to embrace it. Now I think of it as a name to wear as a freaky badge of honor. My true self. Brad the Butcher.
