“I don’t give a shit about King James’ hired help!” King Jax roared, slamming his fist on his wooden oak office table, “from what I know, Michael De Santa is a fat, washed-up old malcontent who is more concerned about catching his wife fucking other guys than actually doing anything to reclaim his place on top of the food chain! And that fucking homeboy he’s got slobbering on his tits, Frank Clinton!? Fucking fat little gangbanger wouldn’t know blind loyalty if it hit him in the face with its dick! Focus on taking out that fuck face Shadows! He poses the biggest threat to our little organisation!” The target of King Jax’s outburst, his most trusted lieutenant, Clay Morrow, was furious. “You have no idea what you’re talking about” Clay growled, “For one, De Santa ain’t just some old has-been, he’s responsible for that raid on the Union Depository. He had Clinton and Trevor Phillips on side, it netted $200,000,000! These guys aren’t amateurs! They’re dangerous, Jax! We need to get them on side NOW, before they get in too deep with Avenged Sevenfold!” “Trevor I’m considering” Jax said, resting back in his chair, “but the other two we can forget. Trevor would be the perfect weapon for us.” “Trust me boss, you NEED all three, you can’t break them up” Clay stated gravely, “They had their own brotherhood as long as us! They’ll kill us before they compromise their loyalty.” Jax pondered this, stroking his .45 Colt, a present from his dearly departed father. Maybe Clay was right; the 3 men were an unstoppable force. And Jax knew that Michael was the seat
of power in the group, and that he influenced his 2 cohorts… plus, if Michael could be bought with money, the others would follow suit. Jax also knew that he could disguise the eventual killings of Michael and Franklin as a hit from a rival group, further ingraining Trevor deeply with the Sons. “Okay Clay, you win” Jax sighed, “have our men out in the field conducting enquiries. Have all 3 brought to me.” Clay smiled grimly, exiting Jax’s office.
Jax was dozing off in his chair when a loud “BOOM!” threw him out of his chair and on the floor. Swearing, grabbing an AK-47 hanging on his wall, he sprinted out of his office, amongst various Sons gang members stampeding towards the source of the explosion, guns at the ready. It was at the entrance to the castle- the gate was no more, reduced to twisted metal. The moat surrounding the castle was no longer pristine water, but contaminated with blood, bodies of Sons gang members floating, mutilated. Jax was beyond furious. “WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS!!!!!?” he screamed, brandishing his AK at his own men. The men were in a panic. “No idea King Jax! We were patrolling the grounds when we spotted a van parked at the gate, and it exploded!” shouted one heavy set, bearded gang member. “And where did the van come from!?” Jax growled. “We, uhh, didn’t see it coming” the gang member admitted. Jax totally lost it; he marched up to the gang member, putting his .45 to the man’s
head, and pulled the trigger. The Sons gathered around shouted out in shock as the man fell to the ground, dead. “What do I pay you all for if you useless cunts can’t even see a van coming from miles away?!” Jax screamed at the cowering men, “find out who did this! Or you will all end up like our friend here” he snarled, kicking the dead man in the head. The Sons gang members wasted no time in scrambling out of there on their Harleys and their vans. Some remaining Sons started to clean up the mess. Jax stormed back to his office, slamming the door.
“Holy shit that was fuckin’ awesome!” Michael shouted, jumping up and down in the air. Trevor and the man who had accompanied them, known as Synyster Gates, shared Michael’s jubilation. “Our Righteous King James will be pleased” Synyster smiled, “you will both be rewarded for your services. Now we must go back to the castle.” Trevor was driving a green SUV that had been stolen off a family that Trevor had spotted along the way. A middle aged couple, with 2 adult daughters that looked college age. That family was now lying in a ditch, all shot in the head by Synyster and Michael after Trevor had terrorised them. “So, Chocolate Eyes, tell me” Trevor asked Synyster, “do you always wear that stupid fedora, or do you use it to pick up
man victims ‘cos they think you’re gay?” Synyster felt a stab of annoyance at this man; no matter how good he was at his job, Synyster found him rude, disrespectful and irritating. The only thing keeping him alive was that him and King James happened to get along extremely well, most likely because of their shared sadism. “T, cool it down” Michael said from the back seat in a warning tone. “What? I was just curious” Trevor laughed, “he knows I don’t mean it, don’t ya Chocolate Eyes?” Synyster smiled, “I would appreciate it if you DIDN’T call me that. I do not take kindly to rudeness. Now shut up and keep driving.” Trevor knew it was futile to keep arguing, especially with Michael in the back seat keeping him on a leash. Michael, for his part, was especially pleased with the outcome. He and Trevor had stolen the bomb from a naval base, posing as mercenaries and driving off with the bomb unopposed. The bomb was the equivalent of 5 Tomahawk Cruise missiles. They could have destroyed the castle of the Sons if they wanted but King James had given the directive to destroy the gates only; he wanted to draw this out, to demoralize the Sons. The castle of King James loomed into view.

Notes

ok.. guys be honest..