Politics/Script

The following is a script of the mission Politics in The Lost and Damned.

Script

Leavis: Do you have an appointment?

Johnny: Uhh... no I thought I'd inquire about a membership.

Leavis: Excuse me?

Johnny: Yeah, under this ravaged, drug-addled exterior lies the heart of a reactionary prick, so I thought I'd fit right in here.

Leavis: I think you should leave, sir, before I call the police.

Johnny: "I think you should leave sir, before I...", dude, it is the twenty-first century. Let me tell you something... you've got a job wiping rich pricks' asses, and for some reason you seem a little pleased with yourself.

Leavis: Will you leave?

Johnny: Trust me man, nothing would please me more, but I'm supposed to see Tom Stubbs and well.. he said to meet him here.

Leavis: Oh, Mr. Stubbs, sir. Okay, you only had to say so, sir. Follow me, will you. Mr. Stubbs is in the day spa, receiving some back work.

Johnny: Right you are.

(Leavis takes Johnny to Stubbs)

Leavis: Mr. Stubbs. A gentleman for you. Thank you, Leavis. And thank you.

(Leavis leaves)

Stubbs: So, you're David Grossman's friend?

Johnny: Oh yeah, we're old, old buddies.

Stubbs: Love the old boy network.

Johnny: Yeah, I can imagine. So what is it that you want?

Stubbs: Could you excuse us, sugar?

Masseuse: Okay, sure.

Stubbs: And thank you, best massage I ever had that didn't involve a happy ending or a poignant sense of guilt afterwards.

Masseuse: See you tomorrow.

(The masseuse leaves)

Stubbs: Tom Stubbs. How do you do?

Johnny: Well, now that you mention it... I'm starting to feel a little queasy.

Stubbs: Don't be pathetic and no secrets here, pal. Now listen. I'm in a bit of a bother, sport.

Johnny: Well I think they can fix that with surgery these days, you know.

Stubbs: Can we stop with the jokes? Grossman tells me you're reliable.

Johnny: Grossman? That guys an asshole.

Stubbs: Look, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by pretending to be a good guy. I'm a politician. I'm a cynic. I'm very needy. I need people to like me. I need people to like me so that they elect me. I need people to elect me so that I feel marginally less bad about myself when I stare into the mirror. That being said, I try to do a good dead here and there.

Johnny: Democracy's a beautiful thing.

Stubbs: Personally, I'd prefer a benign dictatorship without the pretense of choice, but let's leave the political discussions shall we?

Johnny: Yes, let's.

Stubbs: Unfortunately, an awful man has insured that my chances of being re-elected is pretty much zero.

Johnny: Why? Blackmail?

Stubbs: Not exactly. I need his money, and he hasn't died.

Johnny: What? You want me to kill your father?

Stubbs: No. That's disgusting. How could you suggest such a thing? My father died years ago, thank god. No. My uncle. That sanctimonious do-gooder controls the family trust.

Johnny: Whoa, that's heavy man.

Stubbs: Yes, so is being arrested for drug running and spending the next thirty years in prison. You and your little gang, I mean.

Johnny: I see, you make a wonderful politician.

Stubbs: I know. Now, you've got to get the old goat today. Make it spectacular. Make it appear as though it's a terrorist act. That'll do wonders for my campaign in all sorts of ways. Leavis will give you a package on the way out. Oh and Klebitz, trust me... I am what I am, but I look out for those who help me.

Johnny: A blackmailer with a conscience, beautiful.

(Johnny arrives at the airport and gets a text message from Stubbs)

Something about faked terrorist acts get me all excited, Klebitz. You can either take out the chopper as it lands or deal with the convoy as it makes its way out of the airport. By the way, I've got a man at the Southwest gate who can help you if you're locked into the runway area - TSIII

(If Johnny walks up to the guards at the airport gate)

FIB: If you're looking to board a plane, you're in the wrong place.

FIB: You don't racially profile like a terrorist, but I'm about to start treating you like one.

FIB: Please step back or we will consider you a terrorist.

FIB: We're trying to protect people over here, take a step back.

FIB: Take a step back, buddy. This is off limits to you.

(Johnny attacks the FIB and Stubbs)

FIB: Protect Mr. Stubbs.

FIB: Take this prick down, people.

FIB: This guy ain't right, drop him.

FIB: This asshole just gave us permission to use deadly force, people.

FIB: We got a problem here.

(If Johnny gets locked in the airport, he will get another text message from Stubbs)

My sources tell me you've been locked inside the airport. There's a man on the Southwest gate who can unlock it for you - TSIII

(If Johnny leaves the Southwest gate)

Johnny: Mucho gusto.

or:

Johnny: Thanks, man.

Johnny: Much appreciated.

Post mission phone call

Stubbs: Okay, Klebitz. Give me the good news. I'm just about happy with the eulogy my researchers drafted up.

Johnny: Sadly, Stubbs, I'm not going to be able to disappoint you. Your uncle is no longer with us. For my conscience's sake, I hope your lack of humanity is a genetic quality.

Stubbs: Ah, he was a man of the people, a philanthropist, a pompous windbag and an occasional catamite, a typical Stubbs you might say. Sleep easy and drop into the club sometime soon.