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Vojira

Cillian Frost, the notorious leader of the 3rd Street Saints, was currently wondering if the car type called Bootlegger was cursed or all the gods of the worlds simply didn't want him to 'acquire' one and drive it to the nearest chop-shop.

Wondering about that sort of thing on while lying on his back in the middle of the rain drenched streets of Bridgeport might have been an bizarre place to do so, but he honestly didn't feel like getting up at the moment.
Then again, he had done more bizarre things in his life.

Like the time he had been running himself ragged after Maya, leader of the Corona gang, in Sunset Park and suddenly decided to jump into the park's lake for absolutely no reason.

Of course, he might have done it because there had been a person dressed up as gigantic blue sheep out there and he, in the spur of the moment decided to try and help the bloke drown.
But in all honesty He couldn't remember why he had done it. The only thing that come of that bizarre story was an annoying cold and a absolutely infuriated Maya who was pissed over the lack of attention he was giving her.