Leavis: Ahh, Mr. Stubbs is expecting you.
Johnny: Hey, how ya doing man?
Leavis: Oh yes, sir. Hello, sir. I'm fine.
Johnny: Good. Hey let me ask you something... do you really enjoy life?
Leavis: I don't really know what you mean, sir.
Johnny: I mean, does serving all these rich morons, you know... smell of money and all that stuff, you know, does that make you happy?
Leavis: Yes, sir. Something like that. And tell me sir, are you happy? I mean, has giving the man, the, err, finger, really satisfied some inner urge within you, sir?
Johnny: Well, I think what I've learned is that there's always a man, dude. He just wears a different uniform.
Leavis As you say, sir. Ah, Mr. Stubbs is in the steam room. Right this way.
(Leavis takes Johnny to the steam room where Stubbs is)
Stubbs: Klebitz! How ya doing, sport?
Johnny: Hey. I'm fully clothed in a steam room with a murdering politician, while my whole life falls to shit all around me. But fuck it. I'm alright. Miss your uncle?
Stubbs: Oh, I've doubled up on the therapy.
Johnny: Change your therapist.
Stubbs: Oh, but I've been seeing Dr. White since I was seven. The man's a genius.
Johnny: Okay. What can I do for you man? I'm not really dressed for this and you said it was urgent.
Stubbs: Yes, well, there's been a clerical error down in the deepest recesses of the Civic Citadel. A group of outstanding civilians, voters, have mistakenly been taken into LCPD custody.
Johnny: Well, isn't there something you can do about that yourself man? Pull some strings or something?
Stubbs: No, I'm afraid not sport, way too far down the line for that. Too much red tape, yadda yadda yadda... No, all you need to know is that, uh, these gentlemen are in a prison transport bus, and you, my friend, need to liberate them.
Johnny: Sure, I got it.
Stubbs: The bus is at the Leftwood Police Station. Get them out of there and we will make it worth your while.
Johnny: Ok, I got it.
Stubbs: Don't sweat it Klebitz.
(Johnny arrives at the LCPD station where prisoners are boarding a prison bus)
LCPD: Those coveralls chafing you? Well you must be used to wearing Perseus suits and shit.
Prisoner: Look, it was a victimless crime. My taxes pay your salary.
LCPD: Long way from the Exchange now, aren't you, you yuppie pricks? Still think you're better than guys like me, huh?
(An LCPD officer escorts a prisoner with a mask over his face)
LCPD: You should be put down. I saw what you did to that orderly. A man's organs ain't meant to look like that. Come on.
(Johnny approaches the gate)
LCPD: You're going to need to step away from the building, sir.
LCPD: Please stand back, sir. It's for your own safety.
LCPD: The only people coming past here today are wearing cuffs. Walk away.
LCPD: There are some bad people in here, sir. Please stand back.
LCPD: Please, sir. We cannot have civilians approaching the station house today.
(Johnny begins to fight the LCPD)
LCPD: We are now authorized to use force.
LCPD: We got an intruder.
LCPD: Drop this perp.
LCPD: You're in my world now, son.
LCPD: You crossed the line.
(Johnny boards the bus and knocks out the driver. An officer turns to shoot him but is eaten by a prisoner)
Stocker: You're the best tasting thing I've had since I got locked up.
Johnny: That's intense. Alright! Since we've all, uh, eaten, we've got a new destination people.
(Johnny throws out the unconscious driver and leaves the station. He then runs into a roadblock)
Johnny: One police roadblock coming up. Strap in!
Johnny: LCPD done setup a roadblock. They want your asses bad, boys!
Johnny: We got a roadblock, people. Things might get a little rough.
(Johnny gives the prisoners the keys to unlock their cuffs)
Johnny: Here's the keys. Get yourselves un-cuffed.
Johnny: Use these keys to get out them shackles, boys.
Johnny: I got some keys, boys. Get out those bracelets.
(Johnny runs into an Angels of Death convoy)
Johnny: I hope them Deadbeats're enjoying their run.
Johnny: It's a Deadbeat turkey shoot.
Johnny: Don't think you ain't gettin' caught in this thing, Deadbeats.
(If Johnny doesn't hijack the bus at the station, but intercepts it on its route)
Johnny: This bus ain't going to Alderney State Correctional I'm afraid.
Johnny: I'm afraid you boys aren't gonna start your stretch yet.
Johnny: There's been a change of destination for you fellas.
(If Johnny exits the bus)
Prisoner: Where are you going? Don't leave us with him.
Prisoner: Don't leave us here. Help us get out of this.
Prisoner: Get back here. Don't leave us.
(Johnny tries to lose the cops)
Johnny: Just like driving an eighteen wheeler.
Johnny: Fucking politicians.
Johnny: Mom always told me I'd be a bus driver.
Johnny: Do me a favor and don't fucking eat me, back there.
Johnny: The bulls are gonna be real pissed if they catch us.
Johnny: If the cops get us, who wants to be my cellmate?
Johnny: Shit, I'm probably gonna end up doing time with you boys at this rate.
Johnny: Nothing like running from the cops to get the blood pumping.
Johnny: Here comes the school bus.
Johnny: I ain't never going to understand politics.
Johnny: Get out the fucking way.
Johnny: How's my driving?
Johnny: Let's get the fuck away from these pigs.
Prisoner: I'm not going back.
Prisoner: We need to lose the fucking cops.
Prisoner: Shit. Get us out of here.
Prisoner: Faster. Faster. We need to lose them.
Prisoner: Oh shit. Oh shit. I can't get arrested again.
Prisoner: The police are gonna catch us. I know it.
Prisoner: Lose the cops!
Prisoner: Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
(Johnny loses the police)
Johnny: Shut it, yuppies. I'm trying to think.
Johnny: Can you keep it down? In case you ain't noticed I'm trying to keep you boys outta prison.
Johnny: I'm trying to save your preppie asses, so calm down.
Johnny: Hey, my preppie friends, will you shut the hell up?
Johnny: Unless you yuppies want me to throw you to the pigs, shut the hell up.
Prisoner: There's a boat waiting behind the Globe Oil plant in Acter Industrial.
Prisoner: Acter Industrial is where they're meant to meet us By the Globe Oil plant.
Prisoner: The rendezvous is by the Globe Oil plant in the Acter Industrial Park.
Johnny: So, umm, what're you folks in for?
Stocker: For these fellas it's white collar shenanigans. Caught with their hand in the cookie jar. My greed was of a... more corporeal nature.
Johnny: I'm gonna take that as meaning you were into some sick shit. Let's not discuss it.
Stocker: As you wish, dear boy.
Johnny: I'm guessing it wasn't you I got paid to bail out anyways.
Stocker: I doubt those who remember me think it a great idea that I am about to be roaming free again.
Johnny: Okay dokey then.
(Johnny takes the bus to the rendezvous)
Stocker: Thank you, sir. My fellow prisoners and I are most grateful. We've got a boat to catch. Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside. Oh, I do like to be beside the sea. Oh, I do like to walk along the prom, prom, prom. Where the brass bands play fidaly bum, bum, bum, bum.
(The prisoners get on a boat and Johnny watches them depart)
Johnny: Bon voyage.
Stocker: So, you're a motorcyclist? What hardware do you grip between those thighs? A panhead, shovelhead, V-twin?
Johnny: You a bike man?
Stocker: I'm familiar with mechanics. I believe it's man's duty to take things apart and see how they work.
Stocker: you learn so much from seeing the insides of things. Cars, bikes... we are all machines.
Johnny: You got real problems, brother.
Stocker: And everything in your garden is rosey. How nice! I wager one could learn a lot about my fellow prisoners by seeing how they're wired.
Johnny: Learn all you like, just wait until I'm paid, mister.
Post mission phone call
Johnny: Your friends are out to sea, Mr. Stubbs. Good luck to them. I think they'll need it.
Stubbs: Oh don't you worry, those boys don't need luck. You shoulda seen them in '73. Believe me, a short recession and a trip to Panama isn't going to finish those boys off. All traders by blood. Great genes.
Johnny: I was thinking their problem might lie with one of the other passengers on their little cruise. Later on, Mr. Congressman.
Stubbs: Klebitz? Klebitz, you there?
Johnny: I'm here. What can I do you for, Congressman?
Stubbs: Now listen, Klebitz. The tax payer is picking up the bill for this call so I'm going to make it brief. The amount of help I need from a man with your skills has tripled in volume, and that's a conservative estimate. If you're interested in helping me out with this, you can call me and I'll tell you what I need. The pay will be more than adequate.
Johnny: Once you go down the dark path, it just keeps goin', don't it, Stubbs? I'll call if I feel the need to keep you in the lifestyle to which you're accustomed.
(Or by calling Stubbs first)
Stubbs: Ah, Johnny boy, how's it going out there?
Johnny: More shit storm than steam room, Congressman. We weren't all born into money.
Stubbs: No, some of us married into it. Ha ha ha.
Johnny: And some people killed for it. You got any work for me, man?
Stubbs: Well, now that you mention it, there might be a few things that need to be handled discreetly. Call me if you feel up to it, sport. Bye now.
Post mission text message
We need your input in a discussion, John. Come to the house.
Failing the mission
Johnny: Well, Mr. Stubbs. The good news is the cops aren't going to get their hands on those voters. The bad news is they're dead.
Stubbs: Dead men don't talk, Klebitz. This, I can work with. I'll talk to you soon.
Johnny: I'm afraid I can't get your yuppie friends out of the city, Mr. Stubbs. If you've got any strings left to pull, I'd pull 'em now.
Stubbs: Every wise politician knows when to cut their losses. My former friends are on their own now. I'll see you, Klebitz.