Hit the Pipe/Script

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

Script

Jim: I'm just an American - I like an American bike.

Malc: Yeah I understand - you older, Grandpa, so you like a more sedate ride. Some older, mature shit.

Jim: I'll give you mature shit, Malc. Hey.

Malc: Hey, yo, who that?

Jim: Malc, DeSean, Johnny. Brother of mine.

Malc: Aight?

Johnny: Hey.

Malc: Wassup?

Jim: Malc's got us a connection Johnny.

Johnny: I'm good man - I don't need one of them hairdryers.

Malc: Oh yeah, you sure now?

Jim: No, no, some serious hardware. Malc's got us a connection that ain't got nothing to do with bikes.

Johnny: Oh yeah?

Jim: Yeah. Explosives.

Malc: That's right.

Johnny: OK.

Jim: With this, we could take the Angels of Death out of business for a long, long time.

Johnny: Oh you think? With that it looks like we could take the whole fucking town out of business.

Jim: So what do you say... Are you down?

Johnny: Aw man, you got to ask a question like that? Looks like you're going senile or something man?

Jim: That's what I thought you'd say.

Malc: Yo, you fools have fun. But remember this - you get into any trouble, you ain't meet me.

Johnny: Malc, I don't know where you got that shit man, but one things for sure, we will have fun.

Malc: Aight, play nice.

Jim: Later Malc.

Johnny: Later.

Dialogue

(Johnny begins looking for the vans)

Johnny: Come on you fucking Deadbeats.

Johnny: Where are these assholes?

Johnny: Come on. Where are ya?

(Johnny gets close to an A.O.D. van)

Angels of Death: I'm not in the mood to take another Lost MC scalp right now, let's move out.

Angels of Death: Put the hammer down, alright. This Loser might be making a play.

Angels of Death: Shit, it's one of the Losers. We're outta here.

Angels of Death: Man, I think the Losers are trying to pull something. We're heading back.

Angels of Death: Let's make this Lose chase us before we kick his ass. Come on.

Angels of Death: Get lost, you fucking Loser.

Angels of Death: Man, this war is fuckin' with my head. I can't take anymore of this shit.

Angels of Death: This Loser don't smell right. Let's go.

Angels of Death: Put some distance between us and this Loser, will ya?

(Johnny destroys a van)

Johnny: Fuck the Angels of Death, man.

Johnny: Fuck you, Deadbeats!

Johnny: Up yours, you A.O.D. pussies!

Johnny: Screw the Angels of Death!

Johnny: Kiss my ass, Deadbeats!