Hitman 3 is a game about being multifaceted.
Pardon the absence, I was helping evict a squatter. Anyway, I just remembered I was telling a story on September 19, 2016, and I forgot to finish it. Like to hear it? Here it go.
Ok, so I was a baby bear in the jungle searching for negative influences, which in Stockton are the easiest thing to find in the world. I found my target in a group of tag-bangers called IDK. Oh let me back up, tag-banging is a term used to describe packs of wild children who practice aesthetic hedonism as a core gang activity instead of traditional gang activities like murder and capitalism.
This one kid in the crew lived near me and we would take the same bus to get to the Southside so at the start, we allied for safety in numbers but ended up vibing on skating, art, and life in general. The dude also had a strong competitive spirit and while everyone else was just having a good time we would constantly challenge each other to be better skaters, artists, or whatever it was.
One day dude missed the bus and asked me to drop by his crib to scoop him. He lived close but I had never been to his crib, he had been to mine a lot. He used to call my family the "Huxtables." Based on his joke I assumed he never had me over because his family was living bad and I never pressed the issue.
Boy was I wrong.
I step into the dude's house and right there in the foyer, hanging high and proud was the confederate flag. Getting through the living room was a tour through a history of very specific violence. A dagger and shield, a small ax, a mounted Buckhead, a leatherbound book in a display. That kind of thing. We walked into the living room and there was his dad, drunk on the couch, and his mom, in the kitchen. I put on my best Eddie Haskell face and gave a chipper "Hi Sir! Hi Ma'MM!"
I swear they wordlessly looked dead into the windows of my soul for the longest thirty seconds I have ever experienced, then went back to what they were doing, never acknowledging my presence. I stood there, paralyzed, until the dude slapped me on the shoulder, shook his head to imply "don't bother," and motioned me to his room.
When we got in the room he says, "Don't trip, my family is just like that. You know how it is. Lemme just grab this and we out." I said, "Nah, this is crazy. I can't fuck with you." He looked hurt, then angry. We argued, I left. I walked out thinking I had lost a friend, but not gained an enemy.
Boy was I wrong.
This dude spent the rest of our youth going full jihad on me. Got me kicked out of IDK, crossed out my artwork, and his greatest trick was somehow convincing other minorities to hunt me all over the city for "turning on us." I asked a neutral party how he managed that and they said, "He told everybody you tried to fuck him." I was like, "Oh, smart."
Anyway, all of that happened over twenty years ago and I hadn't seen the kid since. Cut to a few months ago. I'm back home celebrating coronavirus with my family and decide to drive to the grocery store. I get pulled over, a cop rolls up, and guess who it is? He says, "Heard you were back in town, just wanted to say hi." I asked, "Am I getting a ticket, going to jail, or getting shot." He laughed and said, "Nah, I'm letting you off with a warning." He got in his cop car and left. End of story.
Shouts to information, and a special note to anyone from the future that is reading this. Don't let them gas you, everyone in this era knew full well, but we were all too terrified of that little monster to do anything. We are so sorry.
Rip TB rip TC Rip Tall-T. Love is wise, hatred is foolish. Get out there and do great things, we believe in you. Also Jobs.
