(I own no rights to the Saints Row franchise. All rights belong to Volition)

Location: Undisclosed base in Stilwater

Time: 0600

In a meeting room at (censored) stood some of the highest authorities of Stilwater. The last time this room was used to discuss the gang activities in the city was fifty years ago when the Carnales arrived. Now it is being used to discuss a threat that has risen from the ashes after five years: The 3rd Street Saints. A small street gang that was formed by Julius Little in a church on 3rd Street in Saint's Row in early 2000. In 2006, the Saints came to light after they single handedly eliminated the other three rival gangs: Los Carnales, Westside Rollerz, and the Vice Kings. The Saints fell apart after Julius went missing, a boat explosion, the death of Alderman Richard Hughes, and the comatose of a gang member.

Five years later now, the Saints are back, under new management, and are making quick work with the new gangs in Stilwater: the Brotherhood, Ronin, and Sons of Samedi. The Saints would be making it easier for the police to get rid of the troublesome gangs, but they won't stop there. They will expand throughout the city and claim it as their own again.

"And that is why I have called you all here," explains Major Marsh, "The 3rd Street Saints became a threat to Stilwater five years ago, they'll become a threat now unless we do something. Immediately!" He emphasizes by slamming his hand on the meeting table. The others in the room mumble with themselves on the situation. The Saints already took out Maero and his Brotherhood, the most brutal gang of all, within days when the authorities tried for months. Members of the Stilwater P.D., the SWAT, and Masako stay silent for Major Marsh to continue.

"As much as it would be easy to let them kill each other off for us, we must remove this cancer before it spreads any further." The Major explains.

A member of the SWAT team steps up. This man, if you want to call him that, was big enough to give Andre the Giant a run for his money.

"What about the chief of police Troy Bradshaw, and Ultor?" He questions with his booming voice. "Surely they would like to know of this 'problem' of ours."

Major Marsh stares at the juggernaut with a blank expression. "Because, Commander York, Bradshaw used to be a Saint and is the reason the new boss is still alive, he'll just try to talk us out of it. And Ultor..." he pauses to judge the company, "I don't trust that slippery prick Dane Vogel that runs it." He says with venom when he says his name.

"I see," Commander York says with not a single trace of emotion in his voice, "Please continue."

Marsh reveals a folder that he was holding. "Now, we can't hit this head on. If we want to take this problem out, we need to punch holes around it to make it easier." He throws the folder on the table, revealing its contents. Papers and photos of people wearing purple clothing slide on the table. "There's little info on some of the Saints, but this is all that could be fathered." He grabs one photo and starts. "The leader of the Saints, there's not much known about this one. But all we know is that this sociopath is the reason the Saints came up top and is now running them." Grabbing another photo and revealing a muscular man of Asian heritage and holding a K6 Kurkov. "Johnny Gat, a psychotic gun toting man with no remorse for the people he kills. He has been around as long as the Saints have been."

Commander York looks over the other photos of the Saints; a black man with a purple sleeve jersey, a hippie chick playing hacky sack, and many more, but came across a photo of a man wearing a black fedora with a purple ban around it and grey eyes, "Sir," he calls out and picks the photo up, "What about this one?"

The Major sees the photo York is holding and puts on a confused look. "Robert Robinson? This one is... a bit confusing to say. Many attempts to arrest him have been met with brutal results, but no witnesses of any of the events. All we know is that he has a terrible driving record, travels with a Korean companion, and is always at a bakery called 'Somethin' for Muffin'."

"I wish to take on this one." He says bluntly.

"We don't know if he is a major threat or not, so you will not go after him until advised." Major Marsh says.

York stares at him with his dead eyes. "Yes sir."

When the major was continuing to talk, York hides the photo of his next target in his pocket.

**

Location: My house in the Red Light District

Time: Too tired to check

I'm just gonna be blunt here. I hate mornings. I don't know what time it is, but I can feel it in my gut that it's way early than I normally wake up. I'm in bed, I'm not sleepy but I don't want to get up, and I am not a happy camper right now. What am I going to do? Brain.exe is not working at the moment. Would you like to reboot? (Y/N)

(N)

Well, crap. Looks like I'm gonna have to figure this problem out myself. First off, what time is it? Come on Rob, the clock is on the nightstand right next to you. It doesn't take that much energy to move your head NINETY DEGREES TO YOUR LEFT.

>Five min. later<

Well, hard parts over. Now let's see if the eye lids will be cooperative. My eyes flutter open to see the red numbers on the clock.

6:07 a.m.

Yep. Way too early than normal. But, I'm concuss; and I sure as hell ain't going back to sleep. So let's brainstorm some ideas, shall we? Hang out with Ty? Naw. He's probably still asleep. See a movie? They don't show anything good any more. Drive around? Ha! Rob a liquor store? I'm already stocked up. Killing spree? Maybe later. Somethin' for Muffin? ...Bingo. Getting out of bed, brushing my teeth, dawning some clothes, my necklace with the bullet that should have killed me (suppressed memories ahoy) and my favorite hat, I grab my golden GDHC .50 (Never leave home without it) and walk out the door.

It's still twilight in Stilwater. 'Good. The sun can go f**k itself for all I care.' I think to myself. 'Now where did I park my... Oh wait. Haha! I drove it into a brothel. Also it wasn't my car.' Look to my left: nothing. To my right: a green motorcycle. Bingo again. I know it's wrong to steal another's property, but they make good muffins sooo...

A few minutes to the bakery (and a few near misses on the way) and I was in my favorite muffin selling store in town and out with a half dozen pastries. I get on my new bike and start revving the engine just for poops and giggles. All right, enough of that. Let's go somewhere where we ca-is that a SWAT van heading my way? In the distance, a SWAT van is driving up to where I am. "Ok. So I was driving way pass the speed limit on the way here, that doesn't mean they had to send the SWAT team after me.' I say in my head.

The van stops twenty yards from where I am with a tire screeching halt. Doors begin to open as half a dozen SWAT members storm out of the van with their rifles pointing at me. 'Wow. Speed limits are strict as hell now a days.' The frame of the van rises three inches as the sound of an elephant can be heard walking arou-HOLY S**T THIS GUY IS GINORMOUS!

Closes description of Commander York

Standing in front of me is the living embodiment of a bastard son between a titan and a tank.

"Ah, Robert Robinson, it took us a while to catch up to you."

Ohmygod he sounds like Darth Vader! Ok, play it cool. These guys are just like the rest of the SWAT. Except this guy is three feet taller, three times bigger, three times scarier, and anything else that can be times by three.

"You have me at a disadvantage here. Is your name Roids by any chance?" I say.

"Funny." No one's laughing. "I am known as Commander York."

"Never heard of ya."

"No one ever lived to tell."

"Cute." I said on my bike. "Listen. I don't know what the hell y'all want. So, I'm just gonna be on my merry way." York reaches in the van and pulls out a mini-gun... A f**king mini-gun! Really?!

"That's not an option for you, kid." He says while he revs up Uncle Sam's b.b. gun.

"... Can I bribe you with muffins?" I lift up the box holding the yummy treats in the air. Half a dozen cli-clicks are heard. "Guess not." I drop the box and put my hands on the handles. Brain.exe is offline. Would you like to start? (Y/N)

(Y)

Loading... Loading... Loading. Complete.

I hold the breaks on and put the bike at full throttle.

"Get off the bike!" One of them yells. Smoke is spewing out of the back tire. "I said, 'OFF'!" He yells again.

"Okie dokie." I release the breaks and do as he says. The bike shoots from under me and races right at York. Everyone jumps out of the way. All except York, just fortifies himself and stops the motorcycle. I whip out Goldberg (I finally got a name for my golden gun) and aim for the gas tank.

BANG! BANG! BOOM!

The motorcycle explodes right in the Commander's face, sending any nearby SWAT sailing in the air.

"Hhahahahahaaa! Boom you mother--" standing in the center of the explosion is York, with not a scratch on his armor, or even laying on his back for that matter. "Oh poo." Ok, time to think of a new plan. York lifts his head up and stares dead at me. 'Quick brain, what do I do?' I yell internally.

Processing... RUN STUPID!!!

I turn on my heels and run in the opposite direction, right into Somethin' for Muffin, through the back room, out the back door... back through the back door, into the back room and grab a muffin, and out the back door again right into an alley.

'Gottarungottarungottarunfindacargetoutofhereeatmiffinfirstfindothersaints!' I run out of the alley and find someone at a red light in a blue Hyundai. 'Hallelujah!' Running up to the driver's seat, I open the car door (why don't people lock their doors anymore?) and grab the driver by the collar of their shirt.

"What the--"

"My car now." With a mighty-ish heave, I send the driver out of the car and seat myself in it in one fluent motion. As I close the car door, I look in the side view mirror and see the SWAT van coming right at me. One of them pokes out of the side window and shoots the mirror right off. I take my foot and almost smash the gas pedal through the floor. Screw seat belts, I'm getting shot at!

Either their van is crap or this car is a god among vehicles, because I am just hauling it like no one's business. Gun shots can still be heard from behind me though.

POP!

Crap. They just popped one of the back tires. Well, you know what they say, an eye for an eye. I bring Goldberg out the window and start shooting blindly at my chasers. Good thing I always bring extra ammo, because it took two and a half clips to pop both their front tires. Speaking of driving, where the hell am I going? Wait, this is the High End Retail District. I can hide in the mall until York and his goons piss off! Speaking of which.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatata! Ok these guys have better aim than I thought. Alright, next left turn, right, and second to the left. Is that van getting closer? Looking at the dash board, fear strikes me to the core. E. E as in 'eeyup, you're boned'. No! I'm so close! I need to make this count! I'm coming around the underground mall to the parking lot with the swirling-road-thingy. You know the one where you need to drive in a spiral way? With a turn of the steering wheel, I descend in a sliding kind of way into the parking lot. Four floors down, I make it to the mall entrants. Before I leave the car, let's see what this had in the glove box. Drum roll please and... A hand grenade? Who the hell did I just carjack? Wait. Idea!

A few seconds later and the SWAT van rolls up right next to the car, with me nowhere in sight. Some of them step out to inspect the car. None of them see me behind a pillar, cooking a grenade. With a throw that would make Jeremy Hellickson proud, the grenade flies right at one of them.

"He might have gone into the mall, sir." Bonk. "Ow! What the fu--"

BOOM!!!

Both Hyundai and SWAT van are instantly consumed by the fire as the explosion occurs. "Like I said before," I say stepping into sight, "Boom you mother--" the sound of an elephant stomping is heard. In the flame stands none other than, surprise-surprise, Commander York. "Ffffffffffffffffuuuuuuuuudge." But I sure as hell didn't say fudge.

He points his mini-gun at me as he walks through the fires and flame. This time, some of his armor pieces are missing and a piece of the right side of his helmet is broken off.

"Cute, kid." He says in that unholy deep voice of his.

'Brain, any ideas?'

Take a guess, genius.

'Run?'

Run.

Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata!

Ha! I've been dodging bullets for four years. I'm basically a pro at-OW, CRAP! Right in the shoulder! Right in the left God forsaken shoulder! Is this freak using hallow point rounds?! Well, thanks to the adrenaline fiercely pumping through my body, I am now on the second floor of the mall with a human tank on my tail. For a big man, he knows how to move around. Turning to a set of stairs clenching my bleeding shoulder, it's a good thing I'm used to getting shot or else this would have hurt a lot more, I look around to find anything useful or an escape. What I find is the most beautiful thing I will ever see: an ATV in the mall.

As soon as that behemoth took the turn, I just drove at him from zero to holy crap at record speed. As soon as grill met gut, I am sending him pass by shocked shoppers right over the rail. Before we hit the ground, I shall usher the one phrase that symbolizes ones bravery, courage, and never giving up no matter the situation or threat. "YOLO!"

We are both, or were, on the third floor and are going straight down to a fountain at the bottom of the mall. As soon as we hit the ground, I am flying out of the ATV and landing on my left shoulder. 'Yep, the one with the bullet hole.' Ok, that guy just fell from two stories with a very heavy ATV landing on him. There is no way anyone could have survived tha--BAM. A new wave of pain shoots up my back as I fall back down into the fountain. Turning my head over, I see the bastard that just won't die standing over me.

"You know, kid," call me kid one more time, "I was thinking of just bringing you in. But," with a mighty kick, I'm sent over to another side of the fountain. I think my hat fell off, "killing you is just going to be more fun." I'm crawling to the edge of the fountain now. And this guy is still talking. Wait, what's that shimmering in the water? "Before I kill you, I'm going to let you in on a little secret." Oh goody. "I used to date your mother, Elizabeth."... Ok this guy needs to shut up. "I can't say that I'm sorry when she died all those years ago." Scratch that, this bastard dies right now.

I get up on my knees with my back against him. "Say that again, right to my face."

"If you say so." He walks around to me and grabs me by the throat, lifting me four feet in the air. "When you get to hell, tell your parents I said 'hello'."

"Goodbye!" With a swing of my arm, I bring the combat knife I found straight to his neck, embedding it to the hilt. As I fall, the mighty Commander York stumbles around trying to pry the knife out of his jugular. I pull out Goldberg and pimp-slap him across the face, sending him falling on his back. I stand over his bleeding form and aim the gun at the open gap in his helmet and fire all twelve rounds into his head.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

As I watch my handy work bleed from the skull, I say my final words to the commander. "For the record, my mom did a hell of a lot better without you." I kneel down and pull the combat knife out of his neck (souvenir) and retrieve my hat. As I step out of the fountain, I look up and see a clock on the wall.

6:47 a.m.

Yep. Way too early than normal.

**

Back in the meeting room, Major Marsh is ten shades of pissed off. "What the hell was that crazy bastard thinking?!" He yells at no one in particular. "I gave him orders not to engage, and he just does it anyway!"

The front doors open and one man in a business suit walks in with a squad of Masako following behind.

"Ah, good morning, uh... Major Marsh was it?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Vogel?" Marsh says with venom in every word.

"Oh, I just came here to make sure that a rogue Major gets sent straight to prison." Vogel says with a grin that was bigger than the Grinch's.

"What?"

"Let me be clear. Troy Bradshaw caught wind of your little meeting and wants you in jail. But that's a bit difficult after you resisted arrest. So; gentlemen, if you would." He steps back and lets the squad open fire on Major Marsh. Dane Vogel is still grinning from ear to ear.

Fin

----

A/n: Ok, so I may have done a little bit of editing to make this less crap. So why did I just rewrite my old assignments from five years ago? Well I've heard that it is back to school for some of you. So there are two reasons.

1. Hahahahahahahahaha! Sucks to be you!

2. As crap as school might be, there are some things that can stick with you and actually be useful. Such as creative writing. In short, and I say this with much strain...

Stay in school. "Shutter"

My writing has gotten better over the years.