So, if you're reading this, well, thank you for being here.

This is a passion project of mine. I hope to turn this into a series

by sending it to R*, but so far all I have is this script.

This is the pilot script for an adaptation of the video game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

If you came here from reddit, and you like this, please leave me

a comment and upvote. If not, well... feel free to read anyway.

Thank you.

- ZM

SAN ANDREAS pilot

Episode 1x01 – “IN THE BEGINNING...”

by

Zach Marsh

5/09/15

TEASER

BLACK SCREEN

ON SCREEN: “Rockstar Games Presents”, almost as if we’re booting up a Grand Theft Auto game for the first time. In a sense, that’s what we’re doing here. Before we can linger on that thought, the voice of an African-American NARRATOR, no older than 25 if even that, calmly speaks.

NARRATOR

(voiceover)

After five years on the East coast, it was time to come home.

As quickly as he’s finished, we flash from black to white as we

OPEN ON

CLOSE-UP – WOODEN DOOR – 10 P.M.

A cheap, worn, white wooden door consumes our vision. It lingers for a few seconds, we zoom out at a crawl to see more of it, before...

...BOOM! A huge, dark hand POUNDS on the door three times. The voice attached to this hand, deep and intimidating, rings out.

KNOCKER

You ready?

From the other side of the door we get two replies from two WOMEN; one YOUNG, one OLD.

YOUNG WOMAN

(from within)

I’m coming, alright?

OLDER WOMAN

(from within)

That boy is so impatient!

EXT. TWO-STORY HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

We can see everything; the DOOR, the HOUSE, the MAN knocking. This house is barely a touch beyond slum quality; it is hand-built, made entirely of green-brown WOOD. It’s rotted, faded, falling apart at the seams. This house is, at the latest, from the ‘50s. The porch railing is loose and bent, the boards creaking with the pressure of a feather. Attached to its’ left side – looking from the front - is a garage with a cheap, milk white door. To the right of this house is a short alleyway, seven-foot walls on either side.

This neighbourhood is as run-down as the house. We must surely be in some kind of AMERICAN GHETTO; Detroit? Chicago? West Baltimore? Compton?

Knocking at the door is a massive COLUMN OF MAN; six-foot plus, African-American, huge arms, around 30 years old. Picture a young VING RHAMES or DELROY LINDO and you’re getting there. You would not want to look at him the wrong way on the street. He wears a FOREST GREEN T-SHIRT, a front-facing cap labelled L.S., and a simple pair of denims. He POUNDS on the door rapidly, five more times.

GREEN SHIRT

Kendl! Come on!

KENDL

(from within)

Yes, Sweet, I’m coming! Momma, I’m heading out now!

The older woman responds; MOMMA’s name is BEVERLY, and she’s the bearer of both SWEET and KENDL.

BEVERLY

(from within)

Okay honey. Sean, you don’t bring your sister back too late, understood? She needs to get her sleep and those parties go so late!

SWEET

Fo’ sho, Moms!

The front door SWINGS outwards, swaying loosely on its hinges before closing with a weak BUMP. Kendl waltzes out, hugging Sweet. She is as stunning as a goddess; picture the beauty of LUPITA NYONG’O contrasted with the curves of MARY J. BLIGE. She wears a green patterned crop top, tied in the back; cream embroidered heels; and denim shorts that accentuate her curvature.

The two siblings turn off the porch of the house; we’re in a round CUL-DE-SAC, their house one of about nine or ten that encircle the paved dead end. We move above them as they walk across the pavement; there’s a ROAD BRIDGE that runs perpendicular across where the cul-de-sac ends and the proper street begins.

Kendl rests her head on her brother’s shoulder as they walk toward a smaller house directly across from the two-story. There is POUNDING BASS emanating out of the house: MUSIC. Behind this house is a four-lane FREEWAY that runs parallel. And in the distance, we can see an illuminated city skyline, centered by the U.S. BANK TOWER; we’re in COMPTON.

Except this is our fictional world, and everything is a clone; we’re in LOS SANTOS, not LOS ANGELES. GANTON, not Compton.

ON SCREEN: “Los Santos, San Andreas – 1992”

SWEET

C’mon, sis, long as Jeffrey’s locked up, his house is gonna be music central for Grove Street.

KENDL

What did that fool do anyway?

SWEET

(through laughter)

It’s a long story, sis.

Whoever JEFFREY is, for the time being, is a mystery; in due time we will meet him. For now, the two siblings step onto the porch of his house, Sweet opening the door for Kendl. As he does, the music from inside becomes LOUDER in an INSTANT. Seamlessly, we move to

INT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE - GROVE STREET – CONTINUOUS

Music is BLASTING out of an expensive set of speakers, yet the relatively sparse crowd of about fifteen people shows that the night is only just getting started. ANDRE CROSS - brother of Jeffrey and man of the house for the duration of Jeffrey’s incarceration - is manning the DJ table, playing a remix of Jomanda’s ‘Make My Body Rock’. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of dark green cargo pants.

Various people – almost all of whom are dressed in some form of green attire – line the room, including an incredibly portly man in a green golf shirt, brown-rimmed glasses, and a black bowler hat, who is dancing in the center of the floor. This is MELVIN HARRIS; aka BIG SMOKE.

It’s obvious that green and Ganton are synonymous with one another. Standing by on the wall is LANCE WILSON – RYDER – who’s cheering Smoke on. Ryder appears obnoxious with a ‘Los Santos’ cap and sunglasses on, despite being indoors at night. He too wears green.

RYDER

Ch’yeah, Smoke! Kill it!

BIG SMOKE

That’s me, baby! Big Smoke, gettin' his move on like MJ hisself!

Smoke’s dancing no longer attracts the crowd, however, the moment Sweet and Kendl walk in to CHEERS and SHOUTS from the crowd.

PARTYGOER

Sweet Johnson, in the muthafuckin’ house!

Sweet gives a mix of daps and embraces to various members of the crowd as he walks through to Smoke, grinning. They embrace tightly,

BIG SMOKE

‘Sup, baby?

SWEET

Ahh, my dog! Ain’t seen you the past couple days, Smoke, you been puttin’ in work, uh? How’s the new spot?

BIG SMOKE

Aha, you know it! You know, my aunt’s place, it’s a nice house and all, but the Grove will always be my home baby!

(a beat)

But look, Sweet, let’s step outside for a beat, yeah dog?

SWEET

Sure, homie.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

On the front porch of the house, a sole gangbanger named LAWRENCE, dressed in a lime green jersey, brown pants and a backwards ‘LS’ snapback carries a Glock at his waist, protecting the household. He appears to still be in his teens. Sweet walks out with Smoke. Smoke seems as if something is weighing heavily on his mind.

LAWRENCE

‘Sup, Sweet?

SWEET

Eh, Lawrence, wassup?

(yawns)

So Smoke, speak on it dude.

Smoke lets out a long sigh as he lights a joint for himself, leaning against the porch railing.

BIG SMOKE

Hey, baby, we losing the streets, man.

SWEET

Nahh. We just standing by our principles, homie.

Smoke pauses to take a drag of the joint, exhaling as he turns to Sweet.

BIG SMOKE

But our ‘principles’ are making us bitches, man.

(long sigh)

Every day, Ballas get stronger, and you and I get weaker. You and I get poorer, man!

SWEET

Man, that shit’ll blow over. It always does.

SMOKE

Oh whatever, fool!

(rubs eyes)

Hey, Sweet... we got ourselves a chance here, dude. This stuff... this ain’t a playground craze, man. This is the biggest money making opportunity that guys like us will ever see.

SWEET

(angrily)

Ah, Smoke, the fuckin’ drugs again?

(a beat)

Man I got all the shit I need! I thought we was in this for the hood, not destroying the family, dude. This Grove Street, nigga!

SMOKE

Eh. Talkin’ bout holding families together, you heard from CJ lately? Been five years just passed since he left.

SWEET

We ain’t speaking. He got his own life.

Sweet takes a long, deep sigh, eyeing the joint in between Smoke’s lips. He looks away, not caving in to the temptation.

SWEET

More than he deserve...

SMOKE

Eh, eh eh baby. Brian been dead for five years now, homie.

SWEET

Yeah, CJ have five years when he should be dead. Man, I lost two brothers, man. One got killed and one showed himself, old perpetratin’ ass bitch.

SMOKE

You real gangsta, baby, but you gotta lighten up. See, CJ, he--

SWEET

CJ runnin’ ‘round like a fool on the East coast. Probably made hisself a taxi driver or some shit. He was never one of us, Smoke, he was never Grove Street! Nigga can rot in hell for all I give a fuck.

(deep breath)

Now let’s get inside. Party waitin’.

As Sweet finishes his tirade, we move to

EXT. STAUNTON ISLAND - LIBERTY CITY – 1 A.M.

We’re in what seems to be a clone of New York, with a brilliant nighttime skyline of highrises and skyscrapers. This is STAUNTON ISLAND, LIBERTY CITY – our equivalent of MANHATTAN - and although the events here are happening concurrently with those in Los Santos, we’re THREE HOURS ahead. We’re treated to several shots of the city, where we see all the buildings and landmarks we would expect from a New York clone, before we move over to

EXT. PORTLAND – LIBERTY CITY – CONTINUOUS

PORTLAND, across the HUMBOLDT RIVER from Staunton, is physically segregated from the rest of Liberty City. As we move from Staunton to Portland, we can see ferries running between the two islands, as well as the very start of what appears to be a bridge under construction.

EXT. RED LIGHT – PORTLAND – CONTINUOUS

Portland’s streets are quiet at night and busy during the day; however, for the various clubs and strip joints in the RED LIGHT district, it’s the opposite. Neon lights illuminate the grimy, dirty streets; prostitutes enter cars parked along PORTLAND AVENUE before they drive off into the night, sure to return in a couple hours’ time; and heavy bass POUNDS through the thick walls of the clubs that line the long strip.

The last remnants of SNOW and ICE line the streets, putting the timeframe around the end of February. The Portland El-Train ROARS across the tracks that line the island, with the path forming a border around the Red Light District. As the train passes down the border separating Red Light from Chinatown, we move to

EXT. UNDERNEATH EL-TRAIN TRACKS – PORTLAND – CONTINUOUS

As the train HOWLS overhead, in the shadows underneath the tracks, stands a MAN in his mid-20s. Hidden behind one of the support beams, he is wearing a dark HOODIE, sunglasses to obscure his face, and baggy jeans, scanning the street next to him, as if looking for a target. He rubs his hands together, and every breath he makes produces mist in the chilly night.

ON SCREEN: “Red Light, Portland – LIBERTY CITY”

The man under the tracks speaks; we’ve heard his voice before, as he is the NARRATOR from the beginning of the episode.

NARRATOR

Will one ever turn up for me? Damn, man!

As if provoked by his words, the perfect opportunity arises; a mint green, four-door NEBULA, your typical early 90s middle-class car, occupied by only the DRIVER, distracted by his cellphone, rolls up along the street.

Once the vehicle passes him, the man starts to jog alongside the car in the driver’s blind spot, before both man and car arrive at a red light. The man seizes his opportunity, sprints up, jumps onto and slides across the hood, and WRENCHES the door open. Before the driver can even react, he’s punched in the face and almost knocked out as his nose BREAKS. Blood streams down his face, and he weakly grabs at the arm of his assailant defensively.

DRIVER

W-what the hell? By... by dose! You boke by dose!

NARRATOR

Out! Out the fuckin’ car!

The man throws the passenger out, SLAMMING him to the ground before getting behind the wheel and speeding off. As the car speeds off, the license plate is shown to read “OPTIMIST”, with a STATE OF LIBERTY identifier.

INT. NEBULA – CONTINUOUS

The carjacker looks behind him and around to make sure he hasn’t attracted any other attention; once he’s sure about this, he drives off towards the district of TRENTON. He pulls down his hood and takes off his sunglasses; we’re looking at an African-American male, with very short, buzzed hair. He strongly resembles Sweet. Right now, we are looking at CARL JOHNSON, “CJ”; and he’s a long way from home. Off him, staring ahead into the night...

END TEASER

ACT ONE

BLACK SCREEN

ON SCREEN: “SAN ANDREAS”, in the most plain, simple white font imaginable.

The sound of a cellphone being flipped open can be heard. This is followed by three muted rings before the call is answered. CJ can be heard speaking.

CJ

Yo. Wassup, Joey? It’s CJ.

FADE IN

INT. NEBULA – 1 A.M.

CJ is still driving along as he speaks; only his end of the conversation can be heard.

CJ

Yeah. I hear you.

(a beat)

Damn, dude. I mean I never knew my dad, but I got a brother back home, used to make my life miserable.

(a beat)

Yeah, well that’s family, yo. Anyway, I got that thing you wanted. Want me to shoot it by the garage?

(a beat)

Nah, dude, I gotta get this thing off the street, man! It’s way hot.

(a beat)

A’ight, cool. Peace.

CJ hangs up. As he drives, he turns on the radio; Game FM is the first station he tunes to, with Gang Starr’s “Ex Girl to Next Girl” on the speakers. CJ lets about ten seconds of the track play before abruptly switching to the news station.

CJ

Fuck that East coast shit.

On the news, a velvety-voiced male NEWS ANCHOR comes on at the moment CJ switches stations.

NEWS ANCHOR

--city news. Newly elected Mayor Roger C. Hole announced in a press conference earlier today that he has slashed the budget for the Callahan Bridge being built between Portland and Staunton Island. As a result, the project, which was to be finished in 1994, is now expected to take until May of 1998. Citizens of Portland expressed outrage at the news--

CJ switches the radio off instantly, hitting the dashboard in frustration. The Nebula continues on into the night.

EXT. JOEY’S GARAGE – TRENTON - LIBERTY CITY – CONTINUOUS

The Nebula pulls up outside of the large, yellow-painted building, an illuminated sign in the top center that reads “Joey’s Garage” in cursive. CJ parks up on the curb across the street, and then steps out of the car and walks towards the front door.

INT. JOEY’S GARAGE – CONTINUOUS

The fairly large interior of the garage is sparsely populated; there are a couple of muscle cars and tuners in the shop, as well as workbenches and equipment scattered around, but overall this garage has the look of one that is only just starting out.

In the center of the garage is a vintage hotrod, a blue HOTKNIFE with a flame paintjob propped up on jacks. Underneath the car, a pair of legs in work overalls protrudes; a man working on the car, as faint sounds of TINKERING and CLANGING can be heard.

CJ walks in through the front door of the garage, CLOSING it behind him.

CJ

Joey!

JOEY LEONE drops the tool he was working with, startled slightly by the sudden entrance of CJ.

JOEY

Fuck!

(fidgeting)

Hold on!

Joey slides out from under the car, his hands greasy and darkened. He doesn’t appear to be any older than 20, but upon seeing CJ the look of frustration on his face turns to one of mild relief.

JOEY

Well? Where is it?

CJ

Out front. It’s a green Nebula. Best four-door on the market.

JOEY

You’re a saint, Carl Johnson. A fuckin’ saint. Gimme one second.

Joey slides back underneath the car, fixing his mistake from when CJ walked in, before coming back out and wiping his hands clean with a cloth. He stands up, walking towards CJ who tosses the keys to the Nebula at Joey. With one hand, Joey catches them without even looking.

JOEY

Lemme get her in here and then we’ll do business.

Joey opens up the main garage door, which rolls open with a loud rattle and clang. He steps outside, and a few seconds later a car ignition can be heard turning on. Joey backs the car into the garage shortly after, stepping out once he’s parked and closing the garage door again.

JOEY

A joint, my friend?

CJ

Ah, damn.

(yawns)

Joey, I normally would, but I gotta get back. 24-hour ferry is a miracle, but it’s slow crossing to Staunton. It’s fittin’ to hit 3 a.m. by the time I get to Shoreside.

(a beat)

They gotta get that damn bridge built, homie.

JOEY

Fair enough, Carl. Well...

(stretches)

Let’s settle business then.

Joey reaches into the left breast pocket of his overalls to pull out a wad of cash, which he hands to CJ.

JOEY

A grand, as we agreed, plus ten percent for quality makes $1,100. Thanks for bringing her in.

(yawns)

Come by tomorrow for that joint?

CJ grins, shaking hands with Joey.

CJ

Fo’ sho. Peace, dude.

JOEY

I’ll see you around.

CJ turns to walk out of the garage; the door CLOSES behind him once he has. We linger on the door for a few seconds before we find ourselves back on the West coast inside

INT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE - MIDNIGHT

The party is still booming, the house now packed with people from the block. Smoke appears tired out as he makes apparent small talk with Ryder, the topic appearing glum.

Sweet and Lawrence, who’s traded lookout shifts with another member of Grove Street, are conversing next to the dance floor. Lawrence’s eye is caught by something behind Sweet.

LAWRENCE

Damn, look at that!

Showing her moves is DENISE ROBINSON, a girl from around the corner, notorious for her promiscuous lifestyle, having been with most of the guys who live in Southeast Los Santos. Lawrence stares after her with a sparkle in his eye; lust. Sweet bellows with laughter, SLAPPING Lawrence on the back.

SWEET

Ah, nigga, that’s Denise Robinson, fool! It ain’t worth it my dude, you’re a young man with a future ahead of hisself!

As Sweet lectures Lawrence, Smoke and Ryder are shown finishing their conversation and embracing, before Ryder stalks towards the exit. He makes eye contact with Sweet and nods in a type of goodbye. Sweet tilts his head in return with a small wave of sorts as Ryder walks out of the house.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Ryder walks out of the house, past the man on guard. Ryder doesn’t so much as glance towards him as he steps off the porch.

GROVE MEMBER

Peace, Ryder!

RYDER

(unenthusiastically)

Ch’yeah.

Ryder walks across the cul-de-sac towards his house – his is the first to the right of the Johnson house, separated by the alleyway that we saw earlier.

Ryder owns a shit brown PICADOR truck, about the ugliest car you could imagine; it’s like an El Camino-shaped pickup truck. His driveway leads to a cheap shed in the backyard. Although Ganton in general is run down, Ryder’s house looks cheaper and more worse for wear than any others we’ve seen thus far; one-story stucco that’s barely keeping itself together. Ryder steps inside the house, closing the door behind him.

INT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Smoke saunters over to Sweet, placing a hand on his shoulder.

SMOKE

Eh, baby, Big Smoke’s all boogied out!

SWEET

Ahh, Ganton’s finest plus-size dancer has had enough! You stayin’? Party runs til 2!

SMOKE

Indeed, baby! Big Smoke never passes up a party opportunity!

INT. CJ’S FLAT - WICHITA GARDENS - LIBERTY CITY – 3 A.M.

CJ walks in without turning on the lights; after all the time he spent in the darkness waiting for a car to steal, and how long it took him to get back – between dropping the car off, his banter with Joey, and the ferry between Portland and Staunton Island – he’s not in the mood to adjust his eyes to brightness.

CJ kicks off his sneakers, taking off his hoodie and tossing it aside, not caring where it lands. He stretches as he walks to his window, facing the other two islands of Liberty City.

He takes the time to scan his eyes over the skyline of Staunton Island, the docks of Portland. Five years was ample time to make him comfortable with the idea of Liberty City, but as shown by his earlier rejection of East coast hip-hop, it would never be Los Santos. It would never be home.

With a sigh, CJ falls back onto his mattress, yet despite how tired he is, he’s unable to fall asleep right away. He lets a series of memories flow through his head.

SWEET

(voice; angrily)

Carl... leave... don’t look back... no matter what.

BEVERLY

(voice; screaming)

Not my baby... not my Brian!

BRIAN

(voice; weakly)

Carl, don’t leave me! Carl!

Deciding not to cope with this anymore, CJ finally decides to close his eyes.

EXT. LOCKUP - VERDANT BLUFFS - LOS SANTOS – 2 A.M.

A desolate, empty lockup under the Los Santos freeway opens up as a single gang member – dressed in a white t-shirt and purple shorts, a member of the BALLAS – steps out of the front door.

He starts to push on the actual wall of the impound, revealing it to be false as it moves aside, functioning as a larger door akin to a garage. He steps aside as if to allow something to pass by.

The lockup seems empty, pitch dark, until suddenly a pair of headlights brightly GLARE from inside, the same time as a powerful, purring engine STARTS. A GREEN SABRE pulls out of the lockup, turning onto the streets of Los Santos and driving into the night.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

The party appears to have concluded roughly ten minutes ago, as the last people are filing out. Denise is on the arm of an unknown partygoer as they walk away together.

Sweet and Lawrence are once again having small talk as Kendl waits inside the house for him. Smoke walks out of the house towards Sweet and Lawrence.

SMOKE

Eh, Sweet, Lawrence. That was a party to die for, homie!

LAWRENCE

No doubt! You out?

SMOKE

Yeah, baby, gotta hit the road. Much love, homie.

SWEET

Much love, my dude.

Smoke embraces his two friends, then walks off towards his black Perennial, getting in the driver’s side. His licence plate, A2TMFK, can be seen from behind the car as he pulls out. Sweet watches the car drive off before his attention is taken away by Andre calling out to him.

ANDRE

(from inside)

Yo, Sweet! Help me pack my gear?

Sweet moves inside the house, past the last partygoer as he exits, and then past Kendl. He briefly turns, while walking, to address her.

SWEET

Ay, sis, we’ll head back after this, a’ight?

(laughs)

Moms is gonna kill me, ain’t she?

Kendl does nothing but smile to herself, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

EXT. GREEN SABRE - LOS SANTOS – CONTINUOUS

The Green Sabre passes slowly through the city of Los Santos, and in a series of quick fade cuts we see the various sections of the city that it drives through: industrial WILLOWFIELD; past the train tracks and UNITY STATION; into IDLEWOOD past the nightclub, where, briefly, the bass of the club overtakes the car’s engine. As the Sabre drives out of frame, we move to

EXT. GANTON – LOS SANTOS – CONTINUOUS

A street sign reading “GROVE STREET” is front and center in the shot. We zoom out to the point where we can see the entire street, and at that moment, the GREEN SABRE appears.

INT. GREEN SABRE – CONTINUOUS

Inside the car, we see the DRIVER; he’s wearing a white t-shirt, purple shorts, and a purple bandana wrapped around his forehead. He turns to the passenger, who we don’t see in the shot.

DRIVER

Yo. You sure, dog?

NEW ANGLE – CLOSE-UP ON MAC-10

We see only the gun, an automatic MAC-10, in the passenger’s hands. Swiftly, he jams the clip in and slams the safety off.

NEW ANGLE – DRIVER

We’re back to the same angle of the driver’s face. He nods.

DRIVER

A’ight. Let’s do this shit then.

EXT. GANTON – CONTINUOUS

The Green Sabre revs its’ engine twice, before speeding off down the street. The camera follows it, and as it becomes smaller and smaller in the distance, we can see in that direction – ever so faintly – the cul-de-sac where Sweet and his family live.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Andre and Sweet pack the last speaker into Andre’s Slamvan at the side of the house. Andre clasps his hands together with an elated sigh.

ANDRE

Another good night in Ganton!

SWEET

Ay, Andre, anything else? I’ve gotta get Kendl...

Sweet stops mid-sentence as he thinks he hears tires SCREECH. An engine ROARING down the street, coming closer. It’s a sound he knows too well; he’s been inside that car dozens of times in his life. He’s not the only person who hears it, as Lawrence, standing on the porch, leaps up from his post to see the Sabre in the distance, racing towards the cul-de-sac at full speed.

LAWRENCE

What the fuck? Sweet, get inside!

Sweet sprints into the house without hesitation.

INT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Sweet nearly breaks the door open, drawing Kendl’s attention. She stares towards her brother, confused as he runs right towards her. At this point, the Sabre’s engine and the screech of tires becomes audible.

SWEET

Down! Get the fuck down!

Sweet dives on top of Kendl, their bodies hitting the floor with a loud THUMP. The ROARING engine of the Sabre is deafening; it’s reached the cul-de-sac.

SHOOTER

(voice; from outside, faintly)

Suck on this, Grove bitch!

The bullets of a sub-machine gun start FLYING; the bullets Sweet anticipated, the automatic fire he knew would come. But he doesn’t hear wood splintering. He can hear the shots clearly from outside, but whatever the Sabre is shooting at, it isn’t Jeffrey’s house.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Lawrence jumps off the porch with the other guard as the Sabre speeds off; they pull out their Glocks and FIRE away at it until their clips empty; none of the shots make their mark. They toss their guns to the ground in frustration, turning towards the front door of Jeffrey’s house.

INT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Sweet looks down at Kendl, knowing she hasn’t been hit. Jeffrey’s house wasn’t the target. In all of five seconds, Sweet realizes that there are only two other houses on the block they would be after: his own, and his mother’s.

LAWRENCE

Sweet! Your moms’ house!

Everything goes silent. Sweet is entirely ignorant of the world around him as he lifts himself off of Kendl with a push, rushing out of Jeffrey’s house.

EXT. JEFFREY’S HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Sweet leaps over the railing of Jeffrey’s porch, SPRINTING across the cul-de-sac to the Johnson house, leaving Kendl behind; faster than he’s ever run in his life. The only audible sounds are his footsteps, muffled as we live inside his head for several seconds.

EXT. PORCH – JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Sweet leaps onto the porch, which is riddled with bullet holes. He goes right through the door as if it were made of paper instead of wood; the doorframe cracks and splinters, broken, as he SLAMS it open in the opposite direction it was meant to be.

INT. JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Right away, his world turns upside down as he sees what is waiting for him on the inside. We don’t see what he sees – the entire time we see only his face – but it’s easy to decipher whatever happened.

SWEET

No!

He hears FOOTSTEPS running across the street; Kendl’s shoes. Immediately he rushes back outside.

EXT. PORCH – JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Sweet grabs his sister just as she reaches the front porch. It isn’t enough to stop her from seeing inside. Sweet doesn’t have time to brace himself for the CRY of agony that follows; a SCREAM he hasn’t heard in five years.

KENDL

(agonized)

Momma! Momma! Not momma!

Kendl collapses into Sweet’s arms, SOBBING, unable to cope in the moment with what’s happening. Sweet sits her down on the porch step as she continues to cry. In shock, he knows only of one person he needs to call.

Sweet pulls out his cellphone and dials a number he thought he’d never call for the rest of his life.

INT. CJ’S FLAT – 5 A.M.

CJ wakes up with a jolt from RINGING. His alarm? No, his phone! He scrambles out from under his sheets, his hand knocking over the lamp on his first drowsy attempt, his second allowing him to successfully grab the phone. He takes a split-second glance at his alarm clock, rubbing his eyes and taking in the time.

CJ

What the fuck?

(yawns)

Who be calling at five in the fucking morning? Damn!

Annoyed, CJ nonetheless answers the phone.

CJ

‘Sup?

SWEET

(voice)

Carl, it’s Sweet. It’s your brother.

CJ freezes for an instant as he registers the significance of this phone call; he hasn’t spoken to his brother in five years. He takes a long sigh.

CJ

‘Sup, Sweet? What’chu want?

(a beat)

Who’s crying? Is that Kendl?

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE – 2 A.M.

Kendl is sobbing on the porch as Sweet takes a deep sigh; the impact of what has just happened sinks in as his voice falters. Sirens begin to become audible, very faintly, in the distance.

SWEET

I think you need to come back home.

(chokes)

It’s momma... she’s dead, bro.

INT. CJ’S FLAT – 5 A.M.

CJ’s face sinks as Sweet’s words register. At that moment, we CUT TO BLACK.

END ACT ONE

ACT TWO

FADE IN

EXT. AT-400 AIRLINER – MID-AIR - DAYTIME

ON SCREEN: “Two Days Later”

The AT-400 airplane carrying CJ from Liberty City to Los Santos flies over a non-specific part of the United States.

INT. AT-400 - DAYTIME

Many of the passengers are jovial: couples interacting with eachother, children CHATTERING as flight attendants service the plane. Down the rows, however, CJ – in a window seat with no passenger in the seat next to him – is silent, almost apathetic as he stares out of the plane’s window. He is wearing a decently crafted – though relatively cheap - black suit, appropriate for a funeral.

INT. LUGGAGE MILL - LOS SANTOS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT - NOON

INTERCOM

Welcome to Los Santos Airport.

As the baggage conveyor runs suitcases and bags to disembarking passengers, CJ finds his brown suitcase in the mix, walking off with it.

EXT. LSX - CONTINUOUS

CJ hails a cab outside the airport, putting his bag in the back seat with him as he enters.

INT. TAXI – CONTINUOUS

CJ sits down in the cab, not even looking at the Hispanic CAB DRIVER as he does.

CJ

Grove Street. Ain’t no rush, neither.

EXT. LSX - CONTINUOUS

As the cab pulls away, a PATROL CAR – previously stationary, as if to watch over the airport – starts to tail CJ’s cab. Three officers are in the car.

INT. TAXI - CONTINUOUS

CJ appears to be reflecting on the past couple days as he reclines slightly in the seat, closing his eyes with a sigh. No sooner does he do this than SIRENS and flashing red/blue lights take him out of his moment of solace. He jumps up in the seat, seeing in the rear view mirror the police car, tailing them.

CAB DRIVER

Oh, mierda!

CJ

The fuck? Homie, I gotta bury my moms! I ain’t got time for this! You bust a taillight?

CAR DRIVER

Nah, holmes, nah, policia. I don’t know what they want.

The cab pulls over, and CJ watches as all three officers step out of their car: the driver, who is Caucasian, and the back seat passenger, who is Hispanic, draw their pistols, aiming at the cab.

The last to step out is an African-American, tall, middle-aged officer, and CJ’s eyes grow wide as golf balls at the sight of him.

CJ

Oh, fuck!

The last officer who stepped out pulls the loudspeaker mic from the police car, putting it to his mouth.

OFFICER

Passenger! Out of the cab slowly! Show us your hands!

CJ

Ah, shit...

CJ places a hand on the back of his head, opens the cab door with the other, and slowly steps out with both hands on his head, his back to the officers.

EXT. TAXI – WILLOWFIELD – LOS SANTOS - CONTINUOUS

He slowly starts to walk back towards them.

OFFICER

Stop! Get down on your knees.

CJ slowly drops down to his knees.

OFFICER

Now down on your stomach!

CJ complies yet again with this order, aggravated. The Hispanic cop holsters his handgun, walking over to CJ and cuffing him on the ground before searching his pockets.

He takes a small wad of cash – the very same given to him by Joey two days before - off of CJ, taking him by the shoulder and lifting him to his feet, walking with him back to the African-American officer.

OFFICER

I’ll take that, Hernandez. Pulaski.

(a beat)

Pulaski! Enough with the theatrics. Put the gun away.

EDDIE PULASKI complies as JIMMY HERNANDEZ moves to stand in his original position.

CJ

Ay, that’s my paper, dude, that’s money.

OFFICER

This is drug money, Carl!

CJ doesn’t jump to emphatically deny the accusation; although he’s never worked with drugs, the money was obtained illegally.

OFFICER

Welcome to Los Santos, Carl. Glad to be back? You ain’t forgotten about us, have you, boy?

CJ

Hell no, Officer Tenpenny. I was just wondering what took y’all so long.

FRANK TENPENNY cracks a wry grin, motioning to Pulaski to take CJ off of Hernandez’s hands.

TENPENNY

It’s Sergeant now. Get in the car.

(cocks head towards car)

Oh! Watch your head!

On cue, Pulaski ‘accidentally’ pushes CJ in too forcefully, causing him to BANG his head off of the roof of the police car. This gets a GRUNT of annoyance and muffled cursing from CJ, and LAUGHTER from Pulaski, who turns towards the cab.

PULASKI

Get the fuck out of here, you greaseball bastard!

The taxi SPEEDS off at Pulaski’s antagonization.

CJ

Yo, my bag! My fuckin’ bag!

PULASKI

Fucking Mexicans.

(a beat)

Oh, hey... sorry, Hernandez.

Hernandez shakes his head at Pulaski, furious. It is here that we first notice a slight drain of colour from his face, as if he’s recently gone through something traumatic. Tenpenny, Pulaski and Hernandez all enter the patrol car. Pulaski is driving, Tenpenny’s in the front passenger seat, and Hernandez is once again in the back with CJ.

The patrol car drives off, curiously making a U-turn; wherever they’re headed, it isn’t DOWNTOWN; the Bank Tower is in the shot, opposite to the direction of the car. As the patrol car leaves the shot, the camera lingers for several more seconds on the tower and surrounding buildings that make up the skyline of Downtown Los Santos.

INT. PATROL CAR - CONTINUOUS

TENPENNY

How you been, Carl? How’s your wonderful family?

CJ

I’m here to bury my moms. Sure you know that already.

TENPENNY

Yeah, yeah, I guess I know. You won’t make the funeral, Carl. See, you killed a cop today. Officer Ralph Pendelbury. A fine man, I might add. You work fast, nigga!

(a beat)

We’re bringing you in.

CJ

(through laughter)

You know I just got off the motherfuckin’ plane. I ain’t copping shit on this.

Pulaski silences CJ’s laughter when he opens the glove compartment of the patrol car to reveal a Glock.

PULASKI

Well look what I found!

TENPENNY

Looks like the murder weapon to me! What do you have to say for yourself, Carl?

CJ doesn’t say a word, deflated instantly at the sight of the gun. Suddenly, a BURST of static from the car radio draws the attention of Pulaski; he grabs the mic as if prepared for it.

DISPATCH

Reports of shots fired in Ocean Docks, repeat, shots fired in Ocean Docks.

PULASKI

Car 58 reporting. We’ll take it, over.

DISPATCH

10-4, car 58. Proceed with caution, over.

PULASKI

10-4.

Pulaski turns the sirens on as he guns the accelerator.

EXT. OCEAN DOCKS - LOS SANTOS - CONTINUOUS

The patrol car, sirens on, pulls up to an isolated pier on the docks. There is not a worker or pedestrian in sight. The area is very high above the water, with a long flight of steps leading down to the jetty below. Tenpenny turns to Hernandez, who is putting on a pair of black gloves.

TENPENNY

You know what to do.

Hernandez nods, reluctantly – and nervously – as he takes the Glock from Pulaski, wiping it clean before stepping out of the police car, walking down the steps. He appears visibly shaky.

CJ is bewildered at what’s going on around him. Tenpenny steps out of the patrol car and moves to the back, opening the door on CJ’s side.

TENPENNY

You, boy. Out.

EXT. PATROL CAR - CONTINUOUS

CJ steps out of the car and is roughly uncuffed by Tenpenny, who draws his service weapon afterwards. CJ rubs his wrists as he notices the pistol.

CJ

The fuck? What is this, Tenpenny?

TENPENNY

Shut the fuck up, Carl. Move to the edge.

Tenpenny, aiming the gun at CJ, motions with a flick of the pistol the direction he wants him to move in. CJ hesitates, momentarily, before solemnly walking to the edge.

EXT. BOTTOM OF PIER – OCEAN DOCKS - CONTINUOUS

Hernandez reaches the bottom of the steps to a concrete jetty. As he does, the camera pans down to reveal a CORPSE; this is Officer RALPH PENDELBURY, and he’s presumably seen better days.

Pendelbury has a GUNSHOT WOUND right through his chest, and a POOL OF CRIMSON behind his head, indicating trauma. The blood is still wet, indicating that he was killed only minutes beforehand.

EXT. SOUTHEAST PIER LEDGE - CONTINUOUS

CJ sees the corpse as he peers over the edge, before hearing Tenpenny COCK HIS GUN. Immediately CJ panics, pivoting towards Tenpenny.

CJ

Oh fuck no! You ain’t doing me like you done him!

Tenpenny focuses his aim on CJ, silently suggesting that he not make any sudden movements.

TENPENNY

Carl, Carl... calm the fuck down. If we wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.

Tenpenny relaxes his aim, still able to shoot CJ down in an instant if he needs to.

TENPENNY

Now take off the two cent suit. Down to your boxers.

CJ glares at Tenpenny, again hesitating. We move back to

EXT. BOTTOM OF PIER - CONTINUOUS

Hernandez takes a long look at Pendelbury, letting out a deep sigh as he gives the Glock one last wipe for prints, before gently placing it on the ground about two feet away from the dead officer’s corpse. He turns around, starting back up the steps to the pier.

EXT. SOUTHEAST PIER - CONTINUOUS

CJ takes the suit off piece by piece: his tie, his jacket, his shoes, his dress shirt, and his pants, discarding them in a pile beside him. All that remains are his boxers. His frame is revealed to be incredibly slender, almost lanky.

TENPENNY

Good. Pulaski!

As if on cue, Pulaski tosses a new set of clothes at CJ’s feet: a plain white tank top, blue jeans and black low-top shoes. CJ stares at the pile of clothes, slowly reaching to pick the pair of jeans up.

TENPENNY

Put those on, Carl. Gotta look like you just came off the docks.

CJ changes into the plain outfit as Hernandez reaches the top of the steps once again, discarding the gloves in the same pile as CJ’s suit. Tenpenny watches Hernandez, who meets his gaze.

HERNANDEZ

It’s done.

TENPENNY

Well then... everyone in. Carl, ladies first.

Hernandez takes the handcuffs from Tenpenny and once again cuffs CJ, who glares at Tenpennny for the remark. Hernandez places CJ in the back of the patrol car before walking around and sitting on the other side.

Tenpenny walks over to the pile of clothes, lifting it all up and tossing it in a nearby trash bin before returning to the patrol car and taking his seat in the front, closing the door behind him.

INT. PATROL CAR - CONTINUOUS

Pulaski, in the driver’s seat, mans the radio. He takes a deep, collected breath before faking exasperation.

PULASKI

(frantically)

HQ, come in! This is car 58! Officer Pendelbury’s down, dead at scene! I repeat we have an officer down in Ocean Docks, southeast pier!! Suspect in custody! Send homicide! Oh, Jesus!

Immediately after he releases the talk button, Pulaski bursts into laughter. Tenpenny pats him on the shoulder, almost as if to congratulate him. CJ watches with a look of absolute repulsion; this does not even come close to matching the sheer horror on Hernandez’s face.

PULASKI

Oh, I had them good!

CJ shakes his head, looking forward at Tenpenny.

CJ

So what’s the plan... ‘officers’? Gonna pin a 187 on me? The fuck I do to you, Tenpenny? Huh?

(beat)

I come back to bury my moms and get right the fuck back out. Instead you assholes--

TENPENNY

Now, boy, you just shut the fuck up, you understand me? You don’t say a goddamn word. Then maybe, just maybe, you might get out of this shit in one piece.

(deep breath)

We aren’t going to put Pendelbury on you. It’s all a cover up. You’ll be back in Grove Street tomorrow! But I promise you, if you so much as open your mouth without me telling you to, motherfucker I will give you the gas myself!

CJ bows his head, dejected at his situation.

EXT. OCEAN DOCKS - CONTINUOUS

The patrol car continues on its’ journey as, across the radio, an explosion of chatter begins: homicide, along with several backup units, is dispatched to the docks.

END ACT TWO

ACT THREE

INT. LSPD HEADQUARTERS - PERSHING SQUARE – 1 P.M.

Naturally, for a city of over three million people, the offices of the Los Santos Police Department are constantly receiving calls, with no lull in the haze of complaints and reports of crimes flowing like an ocean current through the department.

This morning in Los Santos is no exception, though there’s a heavy atmosphere of tension and grief prevalent due to Pulaski’s news regarding the death of Pendelbury.

One patrol officer, ERIC CARVER, is at his desk writing out a citation when a detective from the homicide division, JOSH MICHAELS, walks over to his desk. Carver appears disconnected if not quite distraught.

MICHAELS

Eric. I just heard.

CARVER

Yeah... yeah.

MICHAELS

Ralph was a good cop... a good man. I know you rode with him a couple years back so I just wanted to--

CARVER

I appreciate it, Josh. But please. I need to just focus.

Michaels nods, though he’s unable to reply before the Major in charge of Pershing Square, JOE MELLO, shouts out.

MELLO

They’re bringing him in!

On cue, the front door of the department BURSTS OPEN as Tenpenny and Pulaski drag CJ in by the arms, Hernandez trailing them as they head towards an interrogation room.

There’s a RUCKUS of commotion and noise; Carver leaps to his feet to get a look at his friend and former partner’s alleged killer. Mello, facing the gravity of the situation, attempts to control the precinct.

MELLO

Silence!

Despite Mello’s efforts, the noise and shouting persist.

MELLO

(exasperated)

Shut the fuck up!

This time, the room quickly dials down at Mello’s shout.

MELLO

We’ve got police work to do! This case is not going to be sensationalized, but this is one of our own and I will not let it be fucked up by incompetence! Michaels!

Michaels perks up as his name is called.

MELLO

Get in there and sweat the motherfucker! If this is the killer of one of my officers, I want a charge laid by tonight! Malcolm and Whitmore own this case, but they’re at the scene right now and I need this piece of shit talking in the next ten minutes! Go!

Michaels immediately races over to interrogation room #1 where CJ is being held, just as Tenpenny, Pulaski and Hernandez exit the interrogation room. Hernandez and Pulaski walk off, leaving Michaels with Tenpenny. Tenpenny has a sullen look on his face as he holds up CJ’s wallet.

TENPENNY

This is personal to me, Detective. Looks like a shooting. We picked him up running from the scene as we got there.

(deep sigh)

ID says he’s one Carl Johnson from out East; but if I’m remembering my days in East LS correctly, I might know the kid. Get him behind bars for me.

Michaels places a hand on Tenpenny’s shoulder reassuringly, nodding as he takes the wallet. Tenpenny returns to the viewing room.

INT. VIEWING ROOM – LSPD HQ – LOS SANTOS – CONTINUOUS

Mello walks into the room seconds after Tenpenny. They barely have time to shake hands before the Chief of Police, HAROLD SLATE, barges in. He practically pulls Mello’s hand from his side to give a rushed, overly forceful handshake.

SLATE

Joe, good to see you, as unfortunate as the circumstances may be.

(deep breath)

There’s a lot on the line with this case, and you know I won’t tolerate a cop killer. I’m here to make sure this case is done right.

MELLO

The feeling is mutual, sir. We’ll have the son of a bitch behind bars before you sleep tonight. When we do, however, I think some thanks will be owed to this man.

Mello turns to Tenpenny, nods, then turns back to Slate.

MELLO

Chief Slate, this is Sergeant Frank Tenpenny, responsible for the arrest. I’ve been on the force with Frank for at least 25 years now. Sergeant Tenpenny, no doubt you’re familiar with our Chief of Police, Harold Slate.

Slate grasps Tenpenny’s hand in the same sort of forceful, almost unsolicited manner with which he shook Mello’s hand.

SLATE

I understand you and Officer Pendelbury were close. I appreciate you being in for the long haul, Sergeant, and I congratulate you on the bust. It will not be forgotten, Sergeant; I understand you run a special unit in this department dealing with the ghettos and gangs. You refer to yourselves as CRUSH, correct?

TENPENNY

Uh... CRASH, sir. Community Resources Against Street Hoodlums.

SLATE

Right. Well, I have a meeting with the Commissioner tomorrow. I’ll make sure he knows your name, and we’ll see if we can’t get you some decent funding.

(a sigh)

Perhaps we’ll prevent another hoodrat bastard from shooting one of our own.

Tenpenny nods appreciatively, before turning to the window to watch the interrogation. The room is a dull gray, so devoid of colour or personality that anything else would glow in comparison.

Through the window, CJ is shown in a chair, handcuffed to the room’s table, his head hanging low. Michaels enters the room seconds after, leaning forward against the table and staring CJ down for several seconds before speaking.

MICHAELS

So, Carl... you decided to get out of the cold in the Northeast, come to sunny Los Santos for a vacation?

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM – LSPD HQ – CONTINUOUS

MICHAELS

Then what, did you decide to add “cop hunting” to your itinerary? Thought that while your scumbag, hoodrat ass was in our city that you’d kill an officer just to liven up your stay, really make it memorable?

CJ remains silent and motionless through Michaels’ accusations. Michaels SLAMS his hand on the metal table, though this fails to make CJ budge. Michaels is taken aback by CJ’s reaction, or lack thereof. After a few seconds, Michaels resumes the interrogation.

MICHAELS

Listen, motherfucker. This tough guy bullshit, you aren’t fooling anybody. Especially me. You shot a cop, you know you’re caught, and you’re going to crack sooner or later. The officer you shot, his name was Ralph. He was an upstanding cop, a good father, and more than that he was a friend of mine.

(a beat)

Maybe we can work it out so you avoid the chamber. But if you don’t work with me here, if you don’t cooperate... then I’ll be sure to book an advance ticket to the viewing gallery.

Despite all he’s said, Michaels has still failed to get a glance out of CJ, let alone a reaction.

MICHAELS

Fine. Tell you what, asshole. You think on it, and I’ll be back in a little bit.

Michaels walks out of the room, glancing towards the one-way mirror and raising his arms in frustration as he does so.

EXT. INTERROGATION ROOM – LSPD HQ. – CONTINUOUS

Mello, Tenpenny, and Slate all meet Michaels when he walks out. Slate, seemingly unimpressed, walks away while Tenpenny and Mello remain.

MICHAELS

Four years here. That’s the first time I’ve not seen a perp react or even move. Is the motherfucker on something, Frank?

Before Tenpenny can respond, Mello takes charge and places a hand on Michaels’ shoulder.

MELLO

Now, Josh, just relax. We want to nail this fuckwit, and I know you will in due time. For now, run a GSR and get his prints. I’ll have Jericho bring a kit. Once Malcolm and Whitmore are done working the scene, they’ll relieve you.

Michaels nods and Mello walks off in the same direction as Slate. Michaels begins to head for the water cooler, but he stops as Tenpenny clears his throat.

TENPENNY

Losing your touch?

Michaels turns around to face Tenpenny, glaring. He opens his mouth to respond before giving up, walking away in frustration.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - LSPD HQ – CONTINUOUS

CJ sits dejectedly at the table, lifting his head to stare blankly at the wall in front of him. He stays like this for several seconds before Michaels walks back in with JERICHO, a lab technician. Jericho is holding a steel suitcase, presumably holding equipment inside. Michaels stares CJ down, who has still not reacted or moved.

MICHAELS

Right.

(a beat)

Let’s just get this the fuck over with. Hands on the table, palms flat.

INT. HOLDING CELL BLOCK - LSPD HQ – 2 P.M.

Six holding cells line the basement corridor of the LSPD; three to each side, the cells are separated by nothing more than the bars that define their size. Three of the cells are occupied: two drunken VAGRANTS are in one cell, dazed and barely conscious; the second contains a scantily dressed woman, presumably a PROSTITUTE.

The final cell contains a tall – at least 6’5” – muscular and bald Hispanic GANGSTER in a white tank top, wearing a light blue bandana over his forehead.

Two OFFICERS escort – or rather, drag - CJ into the left, rearmost holding cell. They handle him roughly, practically throwing him into the cell. CJ hits the wall on his side and lazily crumples to the floor afterwards. As the two cops move for the exit, the Hispanic gangster stands against the door of his cell eagerly, shaking the bars. He’s grinning, almost as if he’s just won the lottery.

GANGSTER

Eh, Officers! Officer Walker!

WALKER stops in his tracks and sighs while the other officer chuckles, walking out of the cell block. Walker turns towards the cell.

WALKER

What, Hazer?

HAZER

Eh, Officer Walker, it’s been a day, holmes. I’m only supposed to serve 24 hours, ese!

Walker groans, rolling his eyes as he reaches for a keyring attached to his belt.

WALKER

(sarcastically)

Ah, fuck. Just as I was getting acquainted with you again, Hazer.

(sighs)

Alright.

Walker unlocks HAZER’s cell, prompting the huge gangster to walk out.

WALKER

You know the drill, it’s not like it’s your first time here. Up the stairs, go to the front desk, they’ll sign you out. Now get out of here! Go get a GED or something! I see you in my cell block again, Hazer Morales, and I’ll see to it you do some hard time!

HAZER

Si, si. Maybe I’ll learn physics, eh holmes?

Hazer bellows, his laugh as massive as he is, as he walks out of the cell block a free man. Walker rolls his eyes, turning to the other cells. The prostitute stands up in her cell, pleadingly clinging to the door, at which Walker scoffs, shakes his head, and walks away.

CJ is shown to be in the exact same position he was in when Walker and the other officer threw him to the floor. He looks utterly defeated, staring lifelessly at the cell floor as he curls up against the wall.

INT. MICHAELS’ OFFICE - LSPD HQ – CONTINUOUS

Michaels is sitting at his desk in his office, blankly staring at his computer monitor. A knock comes on the door. Michaels looks up to see who’s there before rubbing his eyes and sighing.

MICHAELS

Come.

Mello walks in, closing the door behind him but not moving further inside.

MELLO

You run the tests?

MICHAELS

Fifteen minutes ago. No GSR. Whitmore just called from the scene, no prints on the gun. Looks to have been wiped clean. This wasn’t some amateur job or arrest gone bad. This was calculated.

MELLO

So what are we thinking here then, Josh? A hit?

MICHAELS

Maybe. I don’t know.

(a sigh)

We ran Johnson’s info in the system. Tenpenny was right; the kid was born in Los Santos. Carl Johnson, D.O.B. 04/22/68. Reading this, he looks to be a natural product of the streets.

(reading)

Nine priors for everything from theft, assault, larceny... kid’s first count was for grand theft auto in ’81. Motherfucker barely got out of diapers before he got a sheet. Let’s see...

(a beat)

Lived in Ganton until ‘87, at which point he just... drops off the face of the fuckin’ planet.

(long sigh)

Why’d he leave five years ago? Better yet... the kid grew up in the shittiest neighbourhood in the city and manages to make it out. Why the fuck would he come back?

MELLO

Because he’s a Johnson brother.

Michaels pauses his look at CJ’s records to stare at Mello.

MICHAELS

What the fuck is a Johnson brother?

Mello chuckles to himself. The look on Michaels’ face turns from one of intrigue to one of annoyance.

MICHAELS

(exasperated)

What?

MELLO

How long have you been in this department, Detective?

MICHAELS

Four years, transferred from San Fierro. You know that.

MELLO

So four years in Los Santos... and you don’t know who Sean Johnson is? The name doesn’t ring a bell at all?

Michaels shrugs, looking back at the screen.

MICHAELS

I suppose I never acquainted myself with Los Santos’ celebrities.

Mello laughs again – almost sarcastically – at the comment. This does little to improve Michaels’ mood.

MELLO

Jesus, kid... look, I don’t have a lot of time right now so I’ll have to be quick with this. You won’t find a star for this piece of shit in Vinewood. Back before I made Major, or even Lieutenant, all the way back to around ’77 when this punk was still in Santos High, Sean Johnson, aka “Sweet”, has had a history with this department.

(a beat)

Since his teens, he’s led a gang called the Grove Street Families. We haven’t been able to make anything stick. The most we’ve managed to get him in for is petty shit. He’s never seen a penitentiary.

(a beat)

They’ve got a rivalry with another gang in the city, call themselves the Ballas. Both these gangs are nigger gangs, you know. Hoodrat bullshit. There’ve been murders on both sides, but nothing ever sticks.

Mello takes a deep, long sigh before continuing. Michaels continues to concentrate on him.

MELLO

Sean Johnson’s been a problem I’ve been trying to put away since the ‘70s. Punk is a thorn in my side... and he has some history with our precinct’s favourite Sergeant.

Michaels perks up in his seat slightly.

MICHAELS

Tenpenny?

Mello nods before continuing.

MELLO

Some nasty shit went down, real game of cat-and-mouse if you ask me. Mind you, Frank was still in Patrol back then, and CRASH was but an idea in his mind. Ever since then, he’s been aching to be the one to put Sean Johnson away.

MICHAELS

And this other Johnson kid... how do you know he’s related?

MELLO

Soon as you said Ganton, I knew. There’s nobody named Johnson coming out of Ganton that ain’t related to Sean Johnson. Besides... I wouldn’t be surprised if Tenpenny himself booked Carl Johnson for a couple of his priors. Ganton was Tenpenny’s beat back then.

(long sigh)

He’s back ‘cause he’s got family to bury. Two days ago, early morning, we get a call about a drive-by shooting in Ganton. Sean Johnson’s mother’s house gets sprayed... with his mother inside.

MICHAELS

Fuck.

MELLO

It’s her funeral today. Mr. Fucking Cop Killer down in the basement ain’t gonna be in attendance, though.

MICHAELS

That’s the thing, Major...

(a beat)

I don’t think he killed Pendelbury. No prints, no GSR... hell, he only got off a plane two hours ago. You said it yourself before, it was more like a hit than some gangbanger biting off more than he can chew.

(a beat)

I don’t know what he was doing at the docks if his mother’s funeral was today... maybe he was kicking stones or something. I don’t know. But he’s not our perp. Tenpenny made an impulse bust.

Mello lets out an obnoxious groan, as if he’s reached the final step on the Kübler-Ross model.

MELLO

I’m on the same page, kid.

(a beat)

But it doesn’t make sense! A hit? I knew Ralph! He was probably the cleanest cop who ever served under me! What kind of shit could he have gotten into?

MICHAELS

I don’t know, sir. But Ralph was a friend of everyone here. Keep Malcolm and Whitmore on if you’d like... but let me keep a bead on the case. I’ll find the answers.

MELLO

Sure, kid. I’ll see how those two fare... they’re good detectives, but they ain’t you. If they can’t work out what happened within the next few days, the case is yours. Now, I’ve gotta deal with the shitstorm this shooting has caused...

MICHAELS

Wait, Major... you know Carl Johnson. Why’d he leave five years ago?

Mello sighs, mildly aggravated by the delay.

MELLO

Him and Sean have another brother... Brian, I think. This kid was only 16 years old back in ’87. Got himself killed. By that time the next day, Carl Johnson disappears.

MICHAELS

How’d the other brother die?

MELLO

Well, it was nasty. I was on the scene--

Mello is interrupted by four loud KNOCKS on the door of Michaels’ office. Michaels peers over Mello’s shoulder as Mello turns around to see Tenpenny.

MICHAELS

Come.

Tenpenny enters, closing the door behind him.

TENPENNY

I just spoke to Jericho. I don’t care what the tests say, Joe, no way do we let this motherfucker go!

MELLO

Can’t be helped, Sergeant. We get him until noon tomorrow. Now I promise you, for Ralph, we will try and dig up something to keep the asshole held here... but it ain’t looking good.

Tenpenny bows his head, and since his face is out of view of Michaels and Mello, he takes a moment to smirk to himself; the act he’s putting on is impeccable, and the drama he’s written is playing to the script exactly as he wanted. He turns away and leaves Michaels’ office. While the door is open, Mello begins to follow him.

MICHAELS

Hey, Major...

Mello turns back around, staring at Michaels, now visibly frustrated that he’s being held up.

MICHAELS

I just had a thought. You said before that Ralph was clean. I don’t dispute that. But what if he uncovered something? What if someone needed to shut him up?

MELLO

I dunno. Sounds a bit out there. But hey, kid, you’re the detective.

With that sarcastic remark, Mello turns and walks out of the office, closing the door behind him.

INT. CELL BLOCK – 8 P.M.

CJ is still in the position he had been left in hours ago; he looks much more tired now, perhaps even weaker. Walker is guarding the cell block, though he stops by CJ’s cell to take a look at who he believes to be Pendelbury’s murderer. He has not yet been made aware of the fact that no evidence links CJ to the crime.

WALKER

Fuckin’ nigger punk. I hope they bring back the chair just for you.

CJ continues to lie there, wordless and expressionless. He doesn’t react to Walker’s words. We move out of CJ’s cell, up to a clock in the cell block that reads 8 p.m. Suddenly, the clock speeds up a hundredfold, the hands rapidly moving until it reads midnight.

INT. CJ’S CELL – MIDNIGHT

WALKER

(voice)

Midnight! Lights out!

CJ doesn’t react as the lights in the cell block are shut off for the night. They flicker briefly, before cutting out altogether. With every source of light in the block now gone, we essentially have CUT TO BLACK.

END ACT THREE

ACT FOUR

INT. LSPD HQ – 7 A.M.

The headquarters appear just as frantic as they did the day before. Carver is at his desk writing a report, though he continues to glance towards Mello’s office where Slate, Mello and Tenpenny are shown to be having a heated conversation. Through the door of the room Tenpenny can be heard shouting.

TENPENNY

(voice; from within)

No way!

INT. MELLO’S OFFICE – CONTINUOUS

MELLO

It has to be done, Frank. There’s no way out of it now.

TENPENNY

I don’t--

SLATE

Do you want to cause a fuckin’ riot in the streets of Los Santos?

(a beat)

There has been a public outcry against how racist this police department supposedly is! All we need is for one more black man, or... God, whatever the ‘correct’ term is these days... to get hit with a baton at a traffic stop, or detained without charge for the streets of Los Santos to go up in smoke!

Slate looks furious; however, nothing compares to the look of pure anger on Tenpenny’s face.

SLATE

You will release this Johnson kid within the hour.

MELLO

Sir, with all due respect, we’re allowed to have the kid for four more hours--

SLATE

No, Major, you are not allowed. This is an order. And what’s more than that...

(a beat)

Sergeant Tenpenny, you’re driving him to his home yourself, so that he can be with his family. That, along with a formal apology.

Tenpenny opens his mouth to protest, but Slate cuts him off.

SLATE

I won’t hear any of it, Sergeant. You’ve put this department to shame with the arrest of an innocent man. You’re lucky the press or the damn Negro Alliance didn’t catch wind of your fuck up!

(a beat)

A cop killer is out there on the streets thanks to you. Your name will still be brought up with the Commissioner today; believe me, you will not be discussed with the same sunny disposition as before. Now, go do as you’ve been ordered, before I suspend you... or even demote you. Good day, Sergeant Tenpenny. Major Mello.

Before Tenpenny can respond, Slate turns and walks out of Mello’s office. Mello and Tenpenny follow him out of the door, watching Slate put his Chief’s hat on as he walks out of the police department itself.

Tenpenny looks furious; being insulted by the Chief of Police clearly isn’t part of his plan. However, he doesn’t say anything, and instead walks over to his own office, slamming the door behind him without a word. Mello takes a deep sigh of relief...

...which is interrupted when a computer monitor SMASHES through the window of Tenpenny’s office, obliterating it. The entire floor is thrown into chaos, and two officers even draw weapons. Tenpenny doesn’t bother walking out the door of his office; instead, he decides to just step through the now nonexistent window. He stares right at Mello, who appears stunned for at least five seconds before he manages to form words.

MELLO

What the fuck, Frank?

(a beat)

Go downstairs to holding and take the kid home!

Tenpenny grudgingly walks off in the direction of the cell block downstairs as the office remains at a standstill in the aftermath of his outburst. Mello looks around, fuming.

MELLO

What the fuck is everybody standin’ around for? Get back to work! All of you!

Mello fails to gain compliance, at which point his frustration peaks. He bellows like a madman.

MELLO

Go! Before I cut pay for all of you!

At this threat, the floor returns to work. One officer picks up the destroyed computer monitor and deposits it in a trash bin as the janitor arrives to sweep up the glass from the obliterated window.

INT. CELL BLOCK – CONTINUOUS

Tenpenny walks down to the cell block with Pulaski and Hernandez. Walker stands up out of his seat at the sight of them, knowing what they are here for.

WALKER

You cannot be serious! You aren’t here for Pendelbury’s killer, are you?

TENPENNY

Chris, calm down.

WALKER

Frank, this punk cannot walk out of this PD!

Before he can protest more, Pulaski slams Walker up against the bars lining the entrance to the cell block. Walker struggles against Pulaski’s grip, but the larger of the two officers wins the struggle easily.

PULASKI

You address him as Sergeant, understood Officer? Now you listen to me and you listen good.

(a beat)

We do not want to let this scumbag cop killer go. We don’t have a choice. Slate has us by the fuckin’ balls on this!

(a beat)

We will be keeping an eye on this motherfucker for as long as he breathes. Until then...

Pulaski takes Walker’s keyring before pushing him away, almost sending him to the floor.

PULASKI

Stay the fuck out of our way.

Pulaski tosses the keys to Tenpenny, who then enters the cell block itself, flanked by his two officers. He heads straight for CJ’s cell, picking out the key to his door. He unlocks and opens the door, and CJ moves, for the first time since the previous day, to sit up against the wall and glare up at Tenpenny.

TENPENNY

So I suppose I’m taking you to that old shithole on Grove Street, aren’t I?

INT. LSPD HQ – CONTINUOUS

Free of restraints, CJ is led by Mello and Tenpenny onto the main floor of the precinct, towards the water cooler. Mello speaks to CJ, who neither acknowledges nor reacts to a single word he says.

MELLO

--and I want to express both my sympathies and the sympathies of this precinct to you and your family, as well as a sincere apology for the misunderstanding.

(a beat)

Now kid, I’m gonna have to ask you to have some water before we get you taken home. You gotta be dehydrated.

CJ enthusiastically grabs a paper cup and fills it with water, knocking it back before immediately going for a second cupful. From his desk, Carver stares on in confusion. Michaels comes by his desk, taking notice of Carver and the situation.

MICHAELS

Eric...

CARVER

Why isn’t he in cuffs?

Carver stands up and immediately starts off towards CJ. Michaels tries and fails to grasp his arm.

MICHAELS

Eric!

Carver angrily walks up to CJ and throws a right hook to his jaw, sending him – and the water in his hand – spilling to the ground. Immediately, Carver is restrained by Mello and Michaels.

CARVER

Gangbanging motherfucker! Son of a bitch! Why isn’t he in a cell? He shot my best friend! He murdered Ralph!

MELLO

Eric, stop!

Carver stops fighting, angrily groaning in frustration.

CARVER

I’m calm!

(deep breath)

I’m calm, okay?

Michaels hesitantly lets go of Carver.

MELLO

He’s not the guy, Eric! He didn’t do it! Now you’ve assaulted an innocent man who just told us he wasn’t going to press charges against the department. You’d better hope that you didn’t just change his mind!

(deep breath)

I want you to take the rest of this week off, with pay. Your head isn’t clear right now. Understood?

Carver does nothing but glare at Mello as he walks off. Mello turns to help CJ up along with Tenpenny. He’s shaken, catching his breath, but overall calm.

CJ

It’s alright.

(panting)

Dude just wants to do right by his homie.

EXT. LSPD HQ – CONTINUOUS

Tenpenny, Pulaski, Hernandez and CJ walk out to the police car. They take the same seating configuration as they did when they were driving CJ to the station. The car drives off from Pershing Square.

INT. PATROL CAR - CONTINUOUS

Tenpenny turns back towards CJ, a sly smirk on his face.

TENPENNY

You did good, boy. Stuck to the script.

CJ shakes his head, staring out the window at his old city, refusing to look towards the front of the car.

CJ

Whatever, Tenpenny. Just get me to the ‘hood. I got family to tend to.

TENPENNY

Now now, you watch your tone, boy.

PULASKI

Yeah, asshole, we’ve got your balls in a fuckin’ vice! I think you’d best keep yourself behaved, otherwise your prints will find themselves on the gun that killed Pendelbury!

TENPENNY

Pipe down, Pulaski. The kid gets it.

(a beat)

So Carl, what else you got shakin’?

CJ

Nothin’. You said it yourself... Sergeant. I live in Liberty City now. I’m clean. Legit.

Tenpenny laughs accusingly at CJ’s claim.

TENPENNY

Naw, kid, you ain’t never been clean. I booked you and your brother more times than I can count on my fingers.

EXT. GLEN PARK - LOS SANTOS – 8 A.M.

The patrol car proceeds through the city into the East side, populated by the lower- to middle-class along with the bulk of the city’s three major gangs: the Ballas, the VAGOS, and the Families.

GLEN PARK is located in the middle ground; between Downtown and the residential areas of Los Santos, the park itself is situated North of COUNTY GENERAL HOSPITAL, which in turn is North of a SKATE PARK and the Idlewood Freeway.

INT. PATROL CAR – CONTINUOUS

CJ

Y’all ain’t explained what the fuck y’all want from me this time.

TENPENNY

When we want you, we’ll find you. In the meantime, don’t leave town... and try not to gun down any more officers of the law.

Pulaski laughs at the remark; Hernandez appears visibly disturbed by their conduct.

TENPENNY

What is this shithole we’re driving through, Pulaski? Jefferson?

PULASKI

Yeah, I can see the chapel ahead.

TENPENNY

Pull into this alley.

EXT. JEFFERSON, LOS SANTOS – CONTINUOUS

In an alleyway between two rows of houses, the patrol car slows down while proceeding through.

INT. PATROL CAR – CONTINUOUS

TENPENNY

Officer Hernandez. Show our friend out.

Hernandez reaches across CJ to open the door on his side. CJ looks at him and then at Tenpenny frantically.

CJ

Hey.

(a beat; ignored)

Yo! You can’t leave me here! This Ballas’ country!

TENPENNY

I thought you were legit now, Carl? That you don’t bang no more?

CJ opens his mouth to respond, but is unable to form words.

TENPENNY

No? Well then, see you ‘round... like a donut, Carl!

With that, Hernandez pushes CJ out of the patrol car, causing him to fall and roll into a pile of discarded cardboard boxes. Tenpenny and Pulaski again laugh as Hernandez appears to be almost sick to his stomach while pulling the door shut.

EXT. ALLEYWAY - JEFFERSON – CONTINUOUS

CJ gets up and brushes himself off as the patrol car races out of the alleyway. He begins to walk in that direction to leave.

CJ

Shit. Assholes.

(deep breath)

I just need to get home, before I get spotted.

As he speaks, CJ notices a bicycle propped up against the wall in the alleyway. It isn’t locked up, and CJ laughs to himself as he notices. We cut to

EXT. STREETS – JEFFERSON – CONTINUOUS

CJ rides the bike joyously, doing a continuous wheelie in the streets as the cars behind honk in annoyance. He passes the JEFFERSON CHAPEL and several houses, turning at the JEFFERSON TOWERS, a clone of the Watts Towers. As he whizzes by, a plaque on the sidewalk by the towers reads “LOS SANTOS: Nuestro Pueblo (Our Town)”.

EXT. BASKETBALL COURTS - JEFFERSON – CONTINUOUS

A basketball smacks the backboard of a net. The ball SWOOSHES through the net, and is caught by a pair of hands. We’re in one of a pair of open courts behind the Jefferson Towers as three men – all of them tall, strongly built, and African-American – are shown to be playing a game of basketball with eachother.

All are wearing ball shorts: one is wearing a PURPLE HOODIE, the second – who caught the basketball - is wearing a BLACK TANK top with a purple bandana on his crown, and the third a WHITE T-shirt with a purple bandana tied around his wrist.

BLACK TANK

Win, motherfucker!

WHITE T

Naw, fuck you Jermaine! You got 19, not 20!

JERMAINE

Nigga I said 20, I got 20! Besides, busta ass bitch, you got seven to yo’ name! You ain’t gone win shit, Tyrell! Tell him, Clarence!

CLARENCE, in the purple hoodie, laughs at JERMAINE and TYRELL. He places a hand on both of their shoulders and shakes his head. He takes the ball from Jermaine, dribbling it slowly. He taunts his acquaintances, before tossing the ball – one-handed – over his head and smirking as he hears it SWOOSH through the net. The ball bounces on the court behind him.

CLARENCE

Both y’all niggas is outta shape over a fuckin’ game of ball? C’mon yo, let’s just play!

In the background, CJ can be seen turning the corner around the Jefferson Towers.

CJ sees the court come into view, and grins to himself. He smashes the brakes on the bike, skidding loudly to a stop next to the courts. He runs up onto the court adjacent to Clarence, Tyrell and Jermaine, who stop playing their game to watch him.

CJ

Yeah! They kept the courts up!

CLARENCE

You lost, nigga?

CJ turns towards the voice; his look of glee turns to a grimace of anger as he notices the purple attire the three men are wearing. They walk intimidatingly towards CJ; Jermaine, the current holder of the ball, spikes it sharply, but at the moment it STRIKES the ground, we suddenly cut to

EXT. GROVE STREET – 9 A.M.

The wheels of CJ’s acquired bike spin as the bike passes under the bridge next to the cul-de-sac of Grove Street. We pan up, and CJ is revealed to have a bloodied nose, a bruise above his right eye, and a gash across the fabric in the stomach region of his tank top, with a small amount of blood seeping through. Whatever happened on those basketball courts, it must surely have been unfavourable for CJ.

For the first time in five years, his old block comes into view, and he sees the house he grew up in. Immediately he slows the bike down, the house’s shadow engulfing him as he comes to a complete stop. He stares up at the house, mouth agape.

CJ dismounts the bike, rolling it on foot towards the house as he places the bike against the porch. As he gets there, he sees a bullet hole in the railing. He backs up, and is stunned to see more bullet holes in the wall of the house, as well as the broken front door. However, it is one bullet hole in particular – one that smashed through the front window – that he lingers on for a particularly long period of time.

CJ

What...

INT. LIVING ROOM - JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

For at least ten seconds, from inside the house, the camera lingers on the broken front door, sunlight glaring into the house’s interior, blocked suddenly by CJ’s silhouette appearing in front of the door. His features are revealed as he steps inside, a stunned look on his face. This is the first proper look we’ve had at the inside of the house.

He walks around the living room, spinning around once slowly, taking in all of the house’s features: every picture frame, every board in the walls. In sadness and, perhaps, pain, he raises his hands to the back of his head. As he does, voices from his past fill his head: younger versions of himself, of Kendl, and of Brian.

KENDL

(voice)

Stop it! What are you doing? Carl, Brian, stop it!

CJ

(voice)

Quit it! Moms will hear!

BRIAN

(voice)

CJ, I can’t get in trouble again!

KENDL

(voice)

Momma, they’re up to something!

Misty-eyed at this point, Carl dejectedly moves to sit down at the dining room table, where a framed picture of Beverly is laid flat. As he does, we move to the

INT. KITCHEN – JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Inside the kitchen, a large arm reaches across slowly and silently to grab a wooden baseball bat; someone else is in the house, and they’re watching CJ.

INT. LIVING ROOM – JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

CJ picks up the picture frame, running a finger across the outline of his mother’s face, as her voice comes into his head.

BEVERLY

(voice)

I love you, my baby boy.

At this point, several tears are running down CJ’s cheeks, but he isn’t given much time to mourn as a loud shout startles him.

SMOKE

You picked the wrong house, fool!

CJ jumps out of the seat, backing away from a rapidly advancing Big Smoke, who is wielding the baseball bat and is poised to swing it at him.

SMOKE

Mothafucka, comin’ into the home of a grievin’ family to pillage them? I’ma knock yo’ damn head off, bitch!

Defensively, CJ lifts the chair he was sitting in, pointing the legs towards Smoke.

CJ

Ay, ay, ay, Big Smoke, chill! It’s me, Carl! Chill, homie, chill!

Hearing this, Smoke lowers the bat slowly.

SMOKE

CJ?

CJ nods at Smoke as he gingerly, puts the chair down. In response, Smoke tosses the bat onto the table.

SMOKE

Oh, my dog!

Smoke pulls CJ into a tight embrace, which is reciprocated.

SMOKE

Ay, baby, how you holdin’ up?

CJ

Shit, dude, not well. My moms, man...

SMOKE

Ay, CJ, I don’t know why this had to happen. But I promise you.

(a beat)

I am gonna find out who killed yo’ moms!

CJ’s face registers a look of horror as he takes in what Smoke just said, separating himself roughly from the hug.

CJ

She... she was murdered? Is that... the bullet holes?

Smoke solemnly nods.

SMOKE

I thought you’d been told already, homie. The streets is cold, dog. Like it says in the book... we are blessed, and cursed.

CJ looks at Smoke with a look of confusion and frustration.

CJ

Smoke, man... what fuckin’ book?

(regretful sigh)

Sorry, dude, just... you know. Damn.

CJ looks around the house again, realizing he hasn’t seen his siblings.

CJ

Where they at? Sweet and Kendl, where they at, Smoke?

SMOKE

By the cemetery, wanted to pay their respects again after the funeral yesterday. Speaking of which...

Smoke takes the time to look CJ over, in particular his wounds.

SMOKE

You missed it, CJ, and you aren’t looking too hot right now baby. What happened?

CJ looks down at himself, annoyingly groaning as he remembers what happened to him.

CJ

Damn, man, it’s a long story, dude.

(a beat)

Look. I’m gonna clean myself up quick, can you take me over there Smoke?

SMOKE

For sure, baby! I was headin’ out before you showed up. Ryder should be there too.

CJ

Shit, Ryder? That shermhead ain’t killed hisself by accident yet?

Smoke and CJ both laugh as CJ turns and heads upstairs.

SMOKE

Not yet, homie.

By this time, CJ is already upstairs. Smoke shakes his head, letting out a soft sigh.

SMOKE

Not yet.

INT. BATHROOM - JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

The shower faucet sprays out water as CJ turns it on. He looks at himself in the mirror as he examines his wounds. He pulls off his tank top to reveal a fresh scar across his abdomen, presumably from some kind of knife.

CJ takes a long, deep sigh, before the scene cuts to him in the shower washing himself off, and then cuts again to him putting his clothes back on. The slash on his stomach is shown to be superficial; it isn’t bleeding anymore.

When he looks at himself in the mirror again, he looks refreshed, his nose is no longer bleeding, and all that remains is the small bruise above his eye. CJ pulls his tank top back over his head.

INT. KITCHEN - JOHNSON HOUSE – 10 A.M.

CJ walks down the stairs as he sees Smoke in an aggravated conversation on the phone.

SMOKE

Just be there, motherfucker.

Smoke smacks the line down and turns to see CJ standing there.

SMOKE

Ay, baby, you’re lookin’ cleaned up, homie!

CJ eyes Smoke suspiciously in regards to the phone call.

CJ

The fuck was that, Smoke?

SMOKE

Ryder. Tellin’ him to get his ass over to the cemetery. Fool called from up at the Pizza Stack, whining about our graffiti getting washed off or some shit.

CJ laughs at Smoke’s words, shaking his head.

CJ

Man, whatever.

(a laugh)

Let’s get gone.

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Smoke and CJ walk across the street towards Smoke’s Perennial. CJ laughs at the sight of the car; the smooth black station wagon that looks as if it came out of an episode of Leave it to Beaver.

CJ

Damn, I shoulda known you were inside when I saw this piece of shit parked here.

SMOKE

Ay, baby, you know me. It’s not cut. Keep the value in it. Keep it real. You wanna drive?

CJ

Sure, Smoke, that’s cool.

CJ gets in the driver’s seat while Smoke gets in the passenger side. They drive out of the cul-de-sac, heading West down Grove Street.

END ACT FOUR

ACT FIVE

EXT. LOS SEPULCROS CEMETERY – RICHMAN - LOS SANTOS – 11 A.M.

The Perennial pulls up outside the walls of Los Sepulcros Cemetery. Directly in front of the car is a blue, four-seater GREENWOOD, a boxy car with a white vinyl landau. CJ and Smoke step out of the car, walking into the cemetery together.

SMOKE

Ay, baby, I’ve missed you these five years, man. They gonna be real happy to see you, homie.

Up ahead, by a grave on the other side of the small cemetery, Kendl, Sweet and Ryder are standing by Beverly’s grave. Lawrence is standing by in the distance to watch over the scene for protection.

SMOKE

‘Sup y’all? Look who I found poking around the house!

Sweet and Kendl turn their heads to see Smoke walking over with CJ. Sweet slowly rises to his feet; Kendl, however, enthusiastically leaps up and runs over to her brother, screaming in joy as she jumps into his arms.

KENDL

Carl! Hey! Oh my god!

CJ embraces Kendl back as he softly lets her down.

CJ

Ay sis.

(a beat)

Sweet.

CJ walks over to the grave, reaching out to hug his older brother. Sweet doesn’t respond, and after a second or two, CJ awkwardly lets his arms down. He looks at two graves in front of him. One grave reads “BRIAN JOHNSON, March 13, 1971-November 15, 1987 – Loving Son”, and the one immediately to the right of it reads “BEVERLY JOHNSON, August 27, 1927–February 18, 1992 – Selfless Mother”. He lets out a deep sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

CJ

I can’t believe she gone...

Sweet turns towards his brother, a look of anger on his face.

SWEET

Yeah? Well thanks for missing the funeral, motherfucker!

CJ

Ay, Sweet, I--

SWEET

I don’t want to hear your damn excuses!

Sweet pushes against CJ’s chest with one hand, causing him to stumble backwards. Before CJ can retaliate, Kendl steps between.

KENDL

Sweet! Hear him out! He’s got a reason, I’m sure of it!

CJ brushes his chest off.

CJ

I’ll explain it later.

(a beat)

Right now I just want to pay my respects to Moms.

SWEET

Moms? As in, yo’ Moms?

(a beat)

Nigga, that woman ain’t been yo’ Moms for five years!

CJ

Ay, fuck you, Sweet! Not here!

KENDL

Stop it! Both of you! Fifteen seconds together and already you argue, in front of Brian? In front of...

(breaks off)

Momma...

Tears stream down Kendl’s cheeks as she turns and walks away, letting out a sob.

SWEET

Where the fuck do you think you’re going?

KENDL

I’m going to see Cesar!

SWEET

The hell you are! Them eses are beefing with Grove Street!

CJ grabs Sweet’s arm.

CJ

Hold up. Cesar?

Sweet throws CJ’s arm off of his as he follows his sister.

SWEET

Don’t you walk away from us, Kendl!

KENDL

Look, I love him, Sweet! And what the fuck are you?

Sweet stops in his tracks at the insult.

SWEET

At least I got principles!

Kendl lets out a sarcastic laugh and turns around to face Sweet again.

KENDL

Oh, and that makes you an upstanding citizen then? Carl, tell him!

SWEET

Carl don’t tell me shit!

CJ

Ay, as long as he treat you right, sis. Any man ever disrespect you, and he’s dead.

SWEET

How the hell you gonna say that? That vato motherfucker is incapable of treating your baby sister right!

By the time either of the two brothers turn back towards where Kendl was standing, she’s already left the cemetery.

CJ

Damn, man. Why you gotta do that to her?

Sweet raises his arms over his head, turning away and walking back towards the rows of graves.

SWEET

This shit’s real fucked up! Everything!

CJ

What you mean?

SWEET

What, apart from your mother being dead? Here, running man, let me show you.

Sweet proceeds to point at an array of graves, naming off a different person for each one. It can be assumed that these are deceased members of Grove Street.

SWEET

Tony’s buried over here. Little Devil over there. And, and Big Devil over here! Everybody be blastin’ on fools first, then ask questions second!

As Sweet speaks, CJ nods to Ryder in greeting, who nods in return. He then notices Lawrence standing to the side. Recognizing him, he grins.

CJ

Naw, it can’t be, yo!

(a beat)

Lawrence Andrews? Shit, you was just a boy when I left, what are you now, 17?

LAWRENCE

18, CJ. ‘Sup?

CJ nods before turning back towards Sweet.

CJ

Ay. You willing to stop hating me long enough to head back to Grove Street? We can chill, talk about what happened?

Sweet pauses for a while, then sighs as he nods.

SWEET

Sure, CJ. Sure.

(a beat)

Kendl must’ve taken the Greenwood. Smoke, you got room in your car?

SMOKE

Indeed, baby! Big Smoke got room for six!

SWEET

Yeah well, we all know you take up three, fat man. Let’s go.

All five walk towards the cemetery exit. As Lawrence, taking up the rear, passes by, we linger one last time on the two graves of Brian and Beverly.

EXT. LOS SEPULCROS CEMETERY – CONTINUOUS

Sweet, Ryder, CJ, Lawrence and Smoke walk out of the cemetery as a blood red VOODOO – a two-door lowrider - turns the corner, slowly stalking down the street in front. Sweet watches the car, before noticing the purple attire of its’ driver and passenger. His eyes go wide as golfballs as he taps Ryder on the shoulder and dashes for cover.

SWEET

Ballas! Drive-by!

Sweet and CJ dive behind the cemetery walls as Ryder, Lawrence and Smoke draw their pistols. However, before they can open fire, they too are forced to take cover as the passenger in the Voodoo pulls a MAC-10, aiming over the roof and spraying the side of Smoke’s Perennial.

SMOKE

Motherfucker!

The Voodoo screeches away, but suddenly does a sharp U-turn and comes back for a second pass.

INT. VOODOO – CONTINUOUS

The passenger pulls a Molotov cocktail from the glove compartment and lights it, coming up again on the cemetery entrance.

EXT. LOS SEPULCROS - CONTINUOUS

The Voodoo passes in front of the Perennial again as the passenger leans out with the Molotov.

PASSENGER

Suck on this, Grove bitch!

Lawrence, hearing the words, freezes; those were the same words shouted by the shooter who murdered Beverly Johnson. Before he can react, the Molotov is tossed right through the window of the Perennial; the projectile BREAKS in the front seat, EXPLODING with searing heat and flames; it takes only seconds for the car to become engulfed in the large blast, which is forceful enough to send all five members of Grove Street to the ground. The Voodoo races off again.

SMOKE

My car!

Sweet gets up and rushes out of the cemetery, with CJ right behind him. Ryder, Smoke and Lawrence follow close behind.

SWEET

Convenience store! Around the corner! If we’re lucky there’ll be some bikes we can take! They ain’t gonna be gone for long!

All five run across the street, with the Perennial engulfed in fire behind them.

EXT. CONVENIENCE STORE – TEMPLE DRIVE – RICHMAN - CONTINUOUS

At a large bike rack in front of the convenience store, seven bicycles are currently chained up. Like clockwork, Lawrence and Ryder take their guns to the locks and shoot five of them off. The noise is enough to scare away several passersby and prevent any questions or accosting from shoppers. Immediately, everyone mounts a bike.

SWEET

Grab a bike and pedal! Even you ain’t forgot that, CJ!

All five peel off down Temple Drive, with Lawrence speeding ahead of the other four, presumably to draw the Ballas car out into the open again. CJ turns to his brother, their bikes riding alongside one another. Over the sound of the bike wheels turning, he shouts across to Sweet.

CJ

Yo, Sweet! The fuck, dude? I thought this was Families’ turf!

SWEET

Yeah, it was Temple Drive Families, they split with Grove Street! Then the Ballas just came in and wiped them out!

(a beat)

Takes you back some, huh? Few miles to the ‘hood yet, CJ, can yo’ skinny ass make it?

CJ

Ay, eyes forward, asshole!

As the two brothers speak, the Voodoo turns in behind them. CJ hears the tires screech and quickly looks back to see the car gaining on them.

CJ

Shit! Split up! Meet under the Mulholland!

Ryder and Smoke turn North onto a different street as CJ and Sweet turn South into an alleyway too thin for the Voodoo to drive through. On Temple Drive, Lawrence races straight ahead and the Voodoo takes the bait.

EXT. ALLEYWAY – RICHMAN – CONTINUOUS

Sweet and CJ speed through an unoccupied construction site; the machinery is all up but no workers are around. The thick CRUNCH of gravel drowns out the spinning of their bike wheels. Temporarily safe, they both squeeze the brakes and stop to look around.

CJ

Man, we hood, Sweet! They ain’t on us! We gotta meet the others!

Sweet nods before kicking off and riding the bike full speed towards the East. CJ immediately follows, the adrenaline pumping.

EXT. PARKING LOT – MULHOLLAND - LOS SANTOS – NOON

The LOS SANTOS FREEWAY runs North-South through the dead center of the city, and at the Northern city limits, it reaches the MULHOLLAND hills; near lavish VINEWOOD, Mulholland is home to several starlets, heiresses, rappers, and businessmen in the city. The freeway continues further North, flowing like a river, and underneath where it connects with the Hills is a large, secluded parking lot.

Sweet and CJ arrive here, the sound of traffic reverberating heavily in the empty parking lot. They skid to a halt, the brakes WHINING as if broken from the pressure applied. At first they appear alone, looking around desperately for Smoke and Ryder.

CJ

Shit, where the fuck they be at?

As if on cue, on the horizon Ryder races into view, around the corner of a building. Followed a few seconds later by Smoke, they head straight for the parking lot. Unlike CJ and Sweet, they don’t stop pedaling. They race right past the two brothers, waving their arms as if to urge them to keep pedaling.

RYDER

Don’t quit, motherfuckers! Ballas car behind us!

With that, CJ and Sweet take off, all four racing off towards the East side of Los Santos. However, from the same direction Smoke and Ryder came, the sound of automatic gunfire BLASTS out. CJ and Sweet look back to see Lawrence appear on his bike with the Voodoo right on his tail; he’s just had an extremely close call. Seeing this, Sweet turns around suddenly and stops. CJ reacts to this, turning back towards his brother.

CJ

Sweet! Come on!

SWEET

Stay out of this, CJ! Keep moving! They want me, they’re gonna have to come get me! I’m not letting any more of my homies get shot!

Sweet picks up a discarded brick from the pavement of the lot, peeling off in the direction of Lawrence and the Voodoo. CJ hesitates to leave, but is shaken out of it by Ryder.

RYDER

Keep up, motherfucker!

CJ reluctantly turns and follows Smoke and Ryder through another alleyway. Lawrence and Sweet race towards eachother, and the Voodoo begins to gain on Lawrence; it’s within ten feet of him now.

INT. VOODOO – CONTINUOUS

The passenger aims his MAC-10 out at Lawrence again, having as clean a shot as he’ll get, but the gun clicks empty. Frustrated, he ejects the clip and starts to insert a new one. He looks up after, only to see Sweet coming right towards him.

Sweet throws the brick like it’s a Major League pitch; it strikes the shooter in his right arm, causing him to shout out in pain and drop the MAC-10 inside the car.

EXT. PARKING LOT – CONTINUOUS

As Lawrence follows after CJ, Sweet races off in the opposite direction. The Voodoo makes a swift, sharp U-turn to follow Sweet. They disappear behind the same building Lawrence came from, one after the other. After a few seconds, gunshots and screeching tires can be faintly heard.

EXT. COMMERCIAL SECTOR – DOWNTOWN LOS SANTOS - CONTINUOUS

CJ, Smoke and Ryder have hit the busy streets of Downtown Los Santos; as they cross streets and weave between traffic, they’re greeted with honking horns and shouts from annoyed commuters. In the direction they’re headed, Glen Park – the pond, hospital, and skatepark that we saw earlier – are distantly visible. CJ appears visibly worried, presumably about his brother’s safety.

RYDER

You just a liability, CJ? Why you bother comin’ back?

SMOKE

Don’t listen to him, baby!

(panting)

Straight back into the game, eh dog?

CJ

Let’s just get to the Grove!

As CJ speaks, Lawrence catches up with the other three. Together, they race off in the direction of the skatepark, the office buildings and highrises looming over them.

EXT. GLEN SKATEPARK - LOS SANTOS - CONTINUOUS

CJ, Smoke, Ryder and Lawrence race through the empty skatepark, avoiding the various halfpipes and bowls in the treacherous shortcut.

SMOKE

Ay, I think we shook the car!

As they come out the other side of the skatepark, Smoke’s words prove to be a jinx; the Voodoo SCREECHES to a halt in front of them. All four barely avoid crashing into the car. They pedal past it down the road.

CJ

How’d they find us? Where the fuck is Sweet?

At this point, the road the four are riding on goes alongside the Idlewood Freeway. The barrier separating the street from the freeway below is broken at one section, right where the freeway arches up to level with the road. Directly across is an off-ramp that goes up to Grove Street.

CJ

Come on! Across the freeway! It’s our only shot!

All four race their bikes through the broken divider. They race across, narrowly avoiding being hit by several cars. There’s a commotion of honking; several cars swerve to avoid the bikes, and miraculously a pileup is avoided as all four bikes race up the off-ramp.

This buys them some time, as the Voodoo cannot follow the bikes, and instead has to drive around; to the direct East is a bridge that crosses over the freeway to Grove Street.

EXT. IDLEWOOD - LOS SANTOS – CONTINUOUS

Safely on the other side, CJ grinds his bike to a halt. He looks at a street sign above him; this is the West end of Grove Street, the same spot where the Green Sabre irreversibly raced off towards the cul-de-sac three days earlier; the skid marks are still visible on the road.

CJ

Ryder, Smoke! Get back to the hood! Lawrence, follow me!

Ryder and Smoke race off down Grove Street in the direction of the hood, while CJ and Lawrence ride towards the bridge where they see the Voodoo coming. They linger there for a few seconds to bait the car, and once they know they’ve drawn its’ attention, they race off in the same direction as Smoke and Ryder.

CJ

You keep heading straight, no matter what I do, you understand? We’re gonna draw it into the circle!

LAWRENCE

Hood, CJ, hood!

As the cul-de-sac and bridge come into view, CJ suddenly takes a sharp turn right at the next street. Lawrence watches him take the first left afterwards onto GANTON BOULEVARD, the street that leads behind the Johnson house. The Voodoo does not change course, speeding after Lawrence.

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE – CONTINUOUS

Smoke and Ryder reach the cul-de-sac, leaping off their bikes. The bikes careen on their own and crash into eachother, collapsing in the center of the circle. Ryder and Smoke rush past the Johnson house towards a stucco house two doors over. They take cover on the porch, checking their guns. Both look at eachother, shaking their heads; they’re both out of ammo.

Seconds later, Lawrence races into the cul-de-sac, and similarly jumps off of his bike, joining Ryder and Smoke in the cover of the porch. Lawrence draws his gun, checking it, and tosses it to the floor with a dejected shout; he doesn’t have ammo either. All three peer over the porch to see the Voodoo coming down the street.

EXT. GANTON BOULEVARD - CONTINUOUS

CJ races up the street as he looks to the left and, through the yard of a house, sees the Voodoo on Grove Street, neck and neck with him. The Voodoo comes up on the cul-de-sac as, simultaneously, CJ pulls up to the alleyway next to his house.

EXT. ALLEYWAY – REAR OF JOHNSON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

CJ leaps off of the speeding bike and lands in a roll, seamlessly rising to his feet and sprinting through the alleyway beside his house. He reaches into his waistband while running, and we can see the GLIMMER of a black grip; he has a handgun that we have not seen before.

EXT. CUL-DE-SAC – GROVE STREET - CONTINOUS

The Voodoo reaches the cul-de-sac, preparing to circle around it.

INT. VOODOO - CONTINUOUS

The passenger in the Voodoo readies his MAC-10, aiming it out the window at Lawrence, Ryder and Smoke, who are still exposed in the limited cover the stucco house provides. However, just as he’s about to fire, CJ runs out in front of the car, his gun now drawn. Before either occupant of the Voodoo can react, CJ opens fire.

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

The Voodoo is poised to run CJ down, speeding right towards him as he fires six shots from the Glock. An expression of pure rage is on his face.

INT. VOODOO - CONTINUOUS

The driver and passenger are powerless as all six shots SMASH through the windshield. The shooter is hit twice, once in the stomach and once in his shoulder; the driver is hit in the chest and, much more fatally, between the eyes; and the last two shots hit the interior of the car but miss the occupants. The driver, dead instantly, flops down; his head smashes into the controls of the car’s hydraulic system.

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

The Voodoo’s hydraulics activate; the speeding car’s right side bounces upwards, the force causing the car to flip onto its’ left side. The right wheels miss CJ by no more than a foot as the car flips over, CRASHING onto its roof and skidding across the pavement until it SMASHES into a light pole. The car’s horn BLARES, the vehicle totaled.

CJ breathes heavily, his adrenaline flowing, as he turns around to survey the wrecked lowrider. On the porch of the stucco house, Lawrence slowly rises from his position, followed by Smoke and then Ryder. They look at the car and then at CJ, shocked, before stepping slowly off the porch.

CJ walks towards them, as he hears moans and grunts of pain coming from the car. Out of the passenger side, the shooter crawls out weakly, desperately. CJ notices this and walks quickly towards him, every step loudly CRUNCHING against the pavement. The shooter looks up at CJ pleadingly; he is likely mortally wounded, but CJ doesn’t hesitate in raising his weapon. With a loud BANG, CJ blows his brains all over the pavement without hesitation.

Smoke and Ryder watch this happen, surprised but unshaken, but Lawrence jumps back in shock. CJ takes a deep breath, shaking; this is the first time we have seen him kill purely in cold blood. As he lowers his weapon, the sound of spinning bicycle wheels can be heard. CJ turns to see his brother, unhurt, pulling under the bridge into the cul-de-sac.

CJ

Sweet!

Sweet slows down, stepping off his bike as it comes to a stop. Stunned by the sight of the wrecked Voodoo, he walks in a dazed manner towards CJ, mouth agape. Sweet sees the gun in his brother’s hand before turning his attention back to the wrecked car as well as the dead body laying outside of it. He struggles for several seconds to form words before turning back to CJ, still in shock.

SWEET

You... you handled this?

CJ nods slowly, placing the gun back in his waistband as it dawns on him that he still has it in his hand. Sweet stares at CJ for a moment, moving slowly towards him to stand over him; Sweet is about 6’2” while CJ is about 5’10”. Lawrence, Ryder, and Smoke, meanwhile, move towards the flipped Voodoo and drag the shooter’s corpse aside. They then begin to tip the car upright. Sweet stops in front of CJ, staring him down.

SWEET

Where’d this gangsta shit come out of, CJ? Huh? Mr. Clean and Serene, Momma’s boy?

(a beat)

Where the fuck you get your hands on a piece anyhow? You ain’t been in Santos but five minutes, nigga!

Before CJ responds, we suddenly flashback to

EXT. BASKETBALL COURT, EAST LOS SANTOS – 8 A.M.

Back to the precise moment that Jermaine spiked the ball earlier, CJ stands his ground and looks at the approaching Ballas. The spiked basketball bounces a few times before rolling to a stop at CJ’s feet. Tyrell stays to the back of Clarence and Jermaine; Jermaine reveals a Glock in his waistband – the same one we just saw CJ use – and Clarence pulls a switchblade, intimidatingly releasing the blade in front of CJ’s face.

CLARENCE

I’ma say it again, nigga. You lost?

Jermaine moves menacingly behind CJ, drawing his gun suddenly and holding it to CJ’s temple. CJ doesn’t react despite the imminent threat to his life.

JERMAINE

Answer the man, bitch.

CJ takes a moment to pause, before suddenly reaching behind and grabbing the gun with his right hand, elbowing Jermaine in the solar plexus with his left. Clarence throws a hook to CJ’s face and slashes CJ’s stomach with the knife, creating the gash in his shirt and the cut on his torso. At the same time, the gun goes off once while CJ and Jermaine struggle over it.

Clarence takes the bullet in the left knee and collapses to the ground in agony. CJ catches Clarence’s knife as he falls, stabbing the stunned Jermaine in the jugular and yanking it back out, causing him to rapidly bleed out.

CJ grabs the Glock from the dying Jermaine, turning to face a stunned, frightened Tyrell. He aims the gun up at him, at which point Tyrell snaps back into reality and turns to run. CJ puts two bullets through his chest from behind, causing him to drop dead instantly.

CJ breathes in and out heavily, surveying the carnage around him. The sound of painful groaning catches his attention, and he turns around to see a struggling Clarence, desperately crawling away on his stomach. CJ holds the gun at his side, taking a step towards the wounded Balla.

SWEET

(voice; faintly)

CJ.

EXT. JOHNSON HOUSE – NOON

SWEET

CJ!

Snapped back into his senses, CJ looks at his brother blankly.

SWEET

The gun. Where you get it?

CJ

Ain’t important. What’s important is that we’re all alive.

Sweet raises his arms in annoyance, dismissing CJ’s statement and stepping away from him. Smoke and Ryder finish tipping the Voodoo over, and the body of the driver flops around inside. Smoke returns to the porch of the house he had been taking cover in front of.

SWEET

Whatever, fool. Coulda handled that shit my damn se