Ice Cold Killa/Script

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The following is a script of the Ice Cold Killa mission in Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.


Carl Johnson: Damn, where'd I put it? Where the hell did I put it? Shit!

(Cesar arrives, carting a tool trolley.)

Cesar Vialpando: Hey holmes, you OK?

Carl Johnson: Yeah. Woozie left a message, say I gotta go get Jizzy's phone after he made the call. Then I can ambush the meet and take down those Balla pushers from Los Santos.

Cesar Vialpando: Hey homie, you want me to roll with you?

Carl Johnson: No, this a one-man job. I gotta stay real low key. I was thinking about welding some shit together, and making me a silencer!

Cesar Vialpando: You're fucking crazy, holmes! You gotta get out of this ghetto mentality!

Carl Johnson: So what you thinking?

Cesar Vialpando: Let me show you. Check this out, holmes.

(Cesar reaches into the tool trolley and pulls out a pistol equiped with a silencer.)

Cesar Vialpando: Here, take mine.

Carl Johnson: Where'd you get that?

Cesar Vialpando: Same place I buy my pants, holmes. This is America.

(Carl heads down to the Pleasure Domes in Battery Point and meets with Jizzy.)

Jizzy B.: Gimme some room. Gimme some room bitch! It's that time of the week again...your provider is about to make that special call. If I think for a moment that one of you hos is hustling me...

(Jizzy makes the execution sign.)

Bettina: You better make a bigger cut this week Jizz. We're running low, honey!

Jizzy B.: Shut up bitch, I'm handling business!

Bettina: Don't you even raise your voice at me, asshole!

Jizzy B.: Now shut up, bitch! Your funky ass...

Bettina: What a dick!

(Bettina leaves and Carl arrives.)

Carl Johnson: Hey Jizzy, I need to holler at you.

Jizzy B.: Well talk, then, friend. I mean, that's we'll ever do. A kind word here, a wise saying there. Shit, I'm a walking book of proverbs.

(Carl pulls his gun on Jizzy.)

Carl Johnson: No, you fucked up, man!

Jizzy B.: C...C'mon, man. Hey, I get it wrong, you know? I'm imperfect. You know, like...hey. Not a kind man. Not a wise man, you know. Not a smart man, but. Dear Lord, I tried!

Carl Johnson: No, you fucked up when you trusted me, playa.

Jizzy B.: C'mon, baby...I...I...But...But...

Carl Johnson: You ass-selling, yay pushing, piece of shit trash!

(Carl tosses Jizzy onto a couch and prepares to shoot him.)

Jizzy B.: Oh, lord! Watchoo all waiting on, huh? Somebody cap this nigga, man!

(Jizzy escapes and sets his guards on Carl, but Carl kills the guards, then goes after Jizzy, kills him and takes his phone, then Carl calls Cesar .)

Carl Johnson: Eh, Cesar.

Cesar Vialpando: Hey, dude, wassup?

Carl Johnson: I need you to meet me at Pier 69. We're gonna take down the Loco Syndicate.

Cesar Vialpando: OK holmes. You gonna need some backup?

Carl Johnson: No, man. I got it covered.

(Carl hangs up.)