User:Gta-mysteries/Patrick Dialogue

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Patrick: Niko boy, how's it going? What's happening with you?

Niko: This and that, you know? Trying to make ends meet.

Patrick: Aren't we all, Niko. Aren't we all. Well, sometimes we're trying to keep out heads above the water, other times we're trying to drown ourselves in it. You feel that way, you ever feel that need to obliterate yourself?

Niko: Maybe sometimes, I mainly try to focus my need to destroy things onto other people.

Patrick: That's because you ain't Irish. If an Irishman ain't beating himself up he's beating up his family. With me, it's myself. My pa was different. It's this fucking chop that's screwing me at the moment. I can't go out an look for chicks without it, but once I'm out I'm in the can most of the night doing rails. After all that there ain't a chance in hell of me being able to get hard. It's a fucking Catch-22. I got to cut down on the shit.

Niko: That might be a good idea, man.

Patrick: You alright Niko boy?

Niko: Sure. How you doing?

Patrick: As long as I don't think about things, fantastic!

Niko: Sometimes, I think that is true for all of us.

Patrick: Sure - I reckon it is - maybe that's why the world is divided into the drunk and the miserable?

Niko: Maybe.

Patrick: Although my dad was both - drunk and miserable. Right fucking idiot.

Niko: I'm sorry about that.

Patrick: He messed the whole fucking family up, I reckon. I used to think I loved him, then I realized I hated him. Drunken bastard. Fuck him.

Niko: Has he been dead long?

Patrick: Yes, but not long enough. I wish he'd been drowned at birth, got rid of the lot of us.

Niko: You're not very cheerful today.

Patrick: No... I'm sorry. Happy thoughts, puppies and little girls smiling and clowns and all that shit.

Patrick: You're getting to know the McReary family pretty good, Niko boy. What's left of it at least.

Niko: You're good people. I like it how you have stayed together.

Patrick: All of us except for Francis. We stayed together when it was possible. I guess we got Ma to thank for that. Taking us to church and cooking a big lunch for the family on a Sunday. When Gerry first went to juvie, she kept laying a place at the table for him. That was until my pa got into a drunken rage one week and threw Gerry's plate against the wall.

Niko: What happened?

Patrick: Ma didn't even flinch. She just sat there. The next week, Gerald's place at the table was empty.

Niko: She must be a strong woman.

Patrick: That's what I thought at first, now I just rekon it was denial. She's got this power to switch off. When Pa would get drunk and do things. She'd just glaze over. I dunno, she's me ma but I ain't gonna understand that.

Niko: There is a lot that I am never going to understand, Packie. A whole fucking lot.

Patrick: How you doing?

Niko: Okay, you know?

Patrick: Sure - great apart from all the blood and guilt hey... kind of messed up, this kind of life isn't it?

Niko: Yes.

Patrick: But then, what's the alternative? Be a hero with feet of clay or be a drunk and a thug and a killer, but at least you ain't a fucking hypocrite?

Niko: I don't know.

Patrick: Bury your brother, bury your dad, but at least you can look in the mirror and feel okay? Feel like a man?

Niko: I saw my brother get killed, a long time ago, he was a good friend of Roman's too. We never speak about it.

Patrick: I'm sorry.

Niko: I knew you could understand that grief.

Patrick: Pain comes easy to the McReary's. Pain and remorse and doing whatever we can to forget about them.

Niko: Yes.

Patrick: Maybe we're all hypocrites. All imbeciles. Francis - you know about Francis - he wanted to be a priest.

Niko: Really?

Patrick: He got thrown out of the seminary, for cheating. He tried to cheat God. Can you believe it? So he became a fucking cop.

Patrick: Niko boy, Niko. You still in contact with your family back in... wherever?

Niko: With what's left of them. I am not so lucky to have my whole family in one city.

Patrick: Us McRearys never flew far from the nest, we all stuck close to home. All of us apart from Derrick that is. He left us to visit the Old Country. Liberty City was never enough for him. He was always a dreamer. That's probably why he got into smack. Took him to another world.

Niko: Cocaine is a realist's drug, right? Keeps you in the moment.

Patrick: Keeps your head up your own fucking ass, that's about as grounded as you can get.

Niko: What did Derrick want to find in Ireland?

Patrick: I don't know. He loved the stories about the Old Country. The poetry, the songs, the books. More than anything he loved a good ruck though. He went to Ireland to find it all. An old romantic he was.

Niko: The world has a strange way of knocking that out of you pretty quick, hey?

Patrick: Life knocks most things out of you pretty quick.

Patrick: What's going on, Niko?

Niko: Usual kind of chaos.

Patrick: Sure... sure. Chaos we all know about. Gerry was the only one who ever tried to live beyond the chaos.

Niko: What makes him different?

Patrick: I'm not sure - but it didn't do him much good, either way. I think it was because of Derrick.

Niko: Why?

Patrick: Because Derrick was a grass. In England. He was involved in that business and he grasses on some people to avoid doing some serious time. And then went into hiding, for years.

Niko: I did not know that.

Patrick: No. He spun it different, but that was the truth. A grass, to avoid doing time. That's why Gerry won't bend - he sees it as his penance for the sins of his brother. Crazy fucking idiot.

Niko: Packie, how's it going man? Is good to see you.

Patrick: Good to see you Niko, anything new going on?

Niko: Not really, usual series of shootouts, fist fights and robberies.

Patrick: Shit, that sounds like a fucking extract from my diary. It would if I kept a diary at least. The fighting bit mainly - drunken fights, sober fights, fights on the subway, fights with the family.

Niko: Did you family fight a lot growing up?

Patrick: Fuck, I practically had to come outta the womb swinging. As the youngest I was always getting me ass kicked. By Derrick, by Gerald... Francis tried to get me on his side, team up against the other two he said, but I wasn't having any of it. Sneaky fucking bastard he was, even back then.

Niko: People don't change, do they?

Patrick: One time I remember Frankie and Gerald going at it. There was just this feeling in the air. This feeling that told me - this one ain't like all the other fights. They didn't stop. There was a look in their eyes. It was fucking animal.

Niko: What ended the fight, who won?

Patrick: There ain't a winner in a fight like this. I thought the only thing that was gonna end it was one of them dying. Ma had walked out when it started, didn't want anything to do with it. It ended when they was in the kitchen, Gerry was on top just smashing Frankie's head into the floor. Then he looks up and he sees Katie huddled up in the corner crying and shaking. They both just stopped when they saw her. Kate stopped being a kid after that. You know what I mean?

Niko: I think I do.

Patrick: What's up, Niko?

Niko: Well not much, you know... problems, solutions, usual sort of thing.

Patrick: You sounded just like Gerry when you said that, all cagey and thoughtful, like I might be wearing a wire.

Niko: I don't think you're wearing a wire. My English can be a bit bad.

Patrick: Sure but you're like Gerry - a weird combination of crazy maniac and thoughtful controlled guy.

Niko: Thanks, I think. I always liked Gerry.

Patrick: I remember one night, years ago, a bit after my dad died, he came home covered in blood. Like he'd been rolling around the floor of an abattoir. Must have killed someone, I guess, I never found out. And he had this weird look in his eyes, like he was possessed.

Niko: Yeah?

Patrick: Yeah. Yeah, Kate saw the whole scene, him, insane like he'd ripped a man's throat out, blood everywhere, the showering, the burning of clothes... I think that was when she realized just what we were like - she was young then. She was never quite the same after that.

Niko: No?

Patrick: No. Well, it must have been hard, realizing your brothers kill people. Wasn't hard for me, but I always knew what life was like.

Patrick: Were you and Roman always close? Back home I mean.

Niko: Yeah, we always were. Close but different. A good team. He was the smart one, I was the active one. That's probably why he got out of there when things got bad. I stuck around and life didn't go so good from there in.

Patrick: You seem like a solid guy, Niko. I know you talk about this bad shit that happened to you, but I think you can get over it, you know. You're a survivor.

Niko: No one but me can see what is in my head when I try to sleep at night. No one has the dreams I do. And you only know this Niko, the one here in Liberty City. There a very few people in Liberty City who met me before the war.

Patrick: At least you know yourself, man. Fuck, I don't know what I am. An Irishman, an American. I think I'm straight but when it's late at night and I need another gram... I've thought about doing some fucked up shit, man. My family's just as confused. Are we gangsters or cops? Drunkards or priests? Some people call this shit Catholic guilt. I reckon it's just confusion.

Niko: Is very rare to find one word that can sum up a feeling you have. In my language, in English. Is very rare to find the word that says it all. I think is best to say nothing.

Patrick: You could be fucking right.

Niko: Packie, man. How's it going? How is your mother?

Patrick: Me mother? She's fucking dying. Has been since the day she was born as far as I can tell.

Niko: Aren't we all dying from the day we are born?

Patrick: Me mother in particular. I think it's the shame. The shame of her marriage to a drunken pervert. The shame of her children. I don't think I have to spell that one out to you, do I?

Niko: Yeah, nobody's perfect.

Patrick: I blame her parents. They were first generation, you know. Came over from some bog somewhere. Pure as the driven snow. Ended up in fucking Liberty City - the centre of sin on Earth. Of course she was gonna go wrong. They coulda ended up in Australia. Beaches, hot chicks, fucking who knows what else. I woulda liked it there. I could have been okay.

Niko: It ain't too late for you to get out of here, Packie. It ain't too late until you're dead.

Patrick: I'll try to remember that.

Patrick: I'm bored man.

Niko: Why?

Patrick: Because life is shit. Or my life is shit. Because I don't know... because all I fucking do is cause trouble and then drink and do drugs.

Niko: What's the problem?

Patrick: I'm bored. I've been rucking and getting fucked up for fifteen years. Is this what I was put on the fucking earth for?

Niko: I hope so, because you're doing a good job of it.

Patrick: Very funny. I mean, I never paid any attention at school. When your family are drunks and killers, you don't really get all the moral discipline you might hope for.

Niko: My father used to beat us, to provide discipline.

Patrick: My father was a long way from a saint... I wanted to be an artist. I could draw really well. It wasn't exactly encouraged. I was kept home from school so I could roll joints for my dad. Soon I had different goals. Fucking stupid world though, isn't it?

Patrick: You cool, Niko?

Niko: Yes, not bad, you know.

Patrick: I enjoy talking to you, man. Enjoy hanging out, after all the craziness, recently and a long time ago.

Niko: Good. I also enjoy our friendship. Sorry about the troubles your family experienced. Really I am.

Patrick: Thank you.

Niko: No problem.

Patrick: It's always been weird. It's my dad's fault. He was an asshole.

Niko: I know, you said.

Patrick: I didn't say everything. He molested Gerry and me - then he killed himself - nobody speaks about it...

Niko: Sorry.

Patrick: I used to think maybe Gerry had killed him, but I think he killed himself... Damn this is all so embarrassing - why did I tell you that? I think that's what really destroyed the family - the old man was a sick pervert. Fuck. I never told anyone that before.