Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Tuesday Is Recycling Day
Since the corruption trial of human punchline Rod Blagojevich is finally underway in Chicago, I figured I'd bring back this bit from January of last year.
"Game Over" (Originally Published, 1.30.09)
***VIA GAMESPONGE.COM: UNOFFICIAL WALKTHROUGH OF GRAND THEFT AUTO IV by @Deathstalker666***
***SECRET HIDDEN LEVEL: "DON'T SPARE THE ROD"***
This one's a bit tough, but it's hella-entertaining. After you've completed the construction site mission with a perfect score, you (Niko Bellic) will find yourself in a cutscene that takes place late at night by the docks. Dimitri Rascalov is there, looking to make a deal with you.
Dimitri (with thick Slavic accent): Well Niko, do you still want to kill me?
Niko (with equally thick accent): Do not tempt me, Rascalov. What do you want at this hour?
Dimitri: It seems your, eh, "special talents" have not gone unnoticed by those in very high places. I tell them you are uncontrollable but they do not care. They tell me they need someone like you -- someone, how you say, working below the radar -- to do a very special job for them. It is job that must never be traced back to the people who ordered it. You understand?
Niko: Yes, yes. I get it.
Dimitri hands you a manila envelope which you open, pulling out a photograph and examining the face on it.
Niko: I take it they want this man -- dealt with?
Dimitri: Ah, you're not as stupid as you look, Serb. His name is Blagojevich. A fellow countryman of yours -- which I suppose means that he's a sniveling rat that will be easy to kill.
Niko: Very funny, Rascalov.
Dimitri: This Blagojevich will be difficult to get to. He is a corrupt politician -- a governor -- who has barricaded himself inside his office downtown. Yesterday, some of our mysterious benefactors voted him out of office for his crimes, but of course, being a Serb, he is refusing to go quietly and is kicking and screaming like scared child. The people who hired us, who go only by code name "Donkey," want you to go in and, eh, "convince him" to leave. Oh yes, and this convincing should look like mob hit, you understand? You remember what your kind did to enemy troops during Balkans war? That is what you will do to Blagojevich, yes?
Niko: Yeah. I get it. But after I take care of this, I'm coming for you, Rascalov.
Dimitri: I will be waiting, Serbian scum.
Scene fades to black and you find yourself outside on the street. Jack a car and head downtown to Blagojevich's office. When you get there, police will be surrounding it, shouting to the governor on bullhorns, trying to get him to surrender. If you look up, you'll be able to see Blagojevich sticking his head out of a broken window on an upper floor. He's shouting obscenities down to the cops and throwing molotov cocktails at them. Make sure to duck the fireballs as you get out of the car and make your way around the back of the building. There you'll have to break a basement window and slide through it. If you walk to your left after getting into the basement, you'll find the elevator. Hit the button and head up to the 3rd floor. When the elevator door opens, you'll see a large sign behind a reception desk. It's trimmed in purple fur and reads "BIG ROD: GOV!" You should already be able to hear Blagojevich yelling from his office. Aside from that, the whole place should be empty except for the bodies of a couple of dead hookers. Just step around them.
Now, this is important: hide your weapon. If you come up on Blagojevich with a gun, he'll scurry away, shouting at you to "go fuck yourself, you fuckin' prick." It'll be easier if he just thinks you're a standard fellow Eastern European gangster. When you walk into Blagojevich's office, he'll have his back to you as he lights molotov cocktails and tosses them out the window and down onto the cops below. He's wearing a tracksuit, screaming and laughing, "Hey, you like that you fuckin' pansies! Think you can fuckin' take down Big Rod, you fuckin' motherfuckers? I'll fuckin' show you, pigs!" As you quietly approach him, be careful to avoid the smashed mirror ball on the office floor, since the crunch of glass under your feet will give you away. Finally, when you get right behind him, you'll get a cutscene:
Blagojevich (quickly turning around): What the -- who the fuck are you?
Niko: Just a friend. Take it easy.
Blagojevich (jumpy, but suddenly smiling): Hey, hey! Somebody from the old country, eh? Good to see you, pal. The boys send you to help get me outta this mess?
Niko: Eh, something like that.
Blagojevich: I knew it (laughing). I knew they wouldn't let a guy like me take the fall. They know I'm too valuable -- and they damn well know I'm no rat. (Turns back toward the open window and shouts) YA HEAR THAT?! I'M NO RAT, YOU FUCKS! (Tosses another molotov through the window)
Niko: My God, man. You need to sit down. Relax.
Blagojevich (pacing back and forth behind his desk): Yeah, yeah. You're right. It's just that this whole thing's been so fuckin' crazy, ya know? I mean, fuck -- alls I did was try to rip off the FDA, beat the shit out of guys who didn't back my legislation, hand over state jobs to anybody willing to write out a check to my seven-year-old daughter, and sell the new president's senate seat to the highest bidder. I mean, what the fuck?
Niko: They take their laws very seriously in this country.
Blagojevich: Too seriously, am I right? Eh? Hey, you want some blow?
Blagojevich sits down behind his desk and sticks his face into a mountain of cocaine, which he snorts loudly then comes up laughing. As he does this, he puts down the unlit molotov bottle in his hand. This gives you your opening. Pull your gun on him -- preferably the shotgun.
Blagojevich (suddenly standing up): Hey hey, what the fuck is this, amigo?
Niko: This is business.
Blagojevich: Wait a minute -- they sent you, didn't they? Cullerton, Reid, Pelosi -- all those assholes.
Niko: It doesn't matter who sent me. All that matters for you is that I am here.
Blagojevich (backing up with his hands raised): Oh come on, pal. Maybe we can do a deal. Ever thought about owning a Dunkin Donuts off the turnpike? Great business opportunity. Or wait! I know! A man of your stature belongs in public office. How'd you like to be a U.S. senator? Think of it -- Senator, uh, what the hell is your name?
Niko: Niko Bellic. Unfortunately for you, it's the name you're going to be taking to your grave, my friend.
Blagojevich: WHAT THE FUCK!? You can't kill me, you fuck! I'm the first black governor of Illinois, you filthy son of a bitch!
Pay close attention, because this is where Blagojevich will reach behind his back and pull a small pistol from his waistband. You'll have to duck the shot he fires while making sure not to shoot him in front of the window, because if you do he'll fall backward through the open window and you won't be able to do what Dimitri ordered you to. After Blagojevich fires at you, jump forward and grab his gold chains, only then do you blast him in the chest with the shotgun.
Blagojevich: Ugh, you, you, fuuuuuuck.
As Blagojevich dies, pull out your knife and scalp him, taking his abundant mane as proof you accomplished your mission, then you can toss him through the open window. When you do this, you'll get a cutscene of Blagojevich's limp body smashing onto the hood of a police car.
Now get the hell out of the office before the SWAT teams come storming up the stairwell. Take the elevator back downstairs and escape out the back. You'll then get a call on your cellphone. It's Dimitri.
Dimitri: A job well done, Serb.
Niko: How did you know?
Dimitri: 24-hour cable news. What a country.
Niko: Would you like to tell me what I'm supposed to do with all this hair? It's chafing my fingers.
Dimitri: Go to alley behind Ben's Chili Bowl franchise. Sunglassed men in black limousine will meet you there to pick it up and take it to their boss. By the way, he -- you know, the man in charge of "Donkey" -- had his people call us. He has message for you. He says he likes your style and wishes to send more work your way.
Niko: Oh yeah?
Dimitri: Yes. You know of man named "Limbaugh?"
The cutscene fades to black.