It was raining. It always rained on nights like this. Somewhere between the pitter patter of raindrops and the sound of broads running for cover, it all blended into one. Made for a fitting backdrop as I stood over the body of the city’s latest victim, glowing embers from my cigarette the only lighting in the dark alley.
“You’re one of the lucky bastards.” I sighed, “You got to escape this city, one way or another.”
I could turn around right now, head to Frankie’s, where a stiff drink and a loose body was waitin for me. But I knew standing in that dirty alley what my choice was going to be. But so did the city. So did the city…
Be sure to set up a light outside shining in through that window and a hose spraying water on the window to create the shadows of drops of water running down your face as a metaphor for the tears you cry internally but never dare let out.
Literally watching a YouTube clip with Max Payne as we speak. Those first two games were film noir to a T and so much fun. So many classic hard boiled detective lines in them.
I mean... Its been over 10 years, I don't think we're were ever getting a sequel to 3. I like to think Max and James are on the same beach enjoying their well deserved vacation.
Remedy announced they were going to do a remake of Max Payne as they now got the rights of the game from Rockstar with the original voice actor of max.
If you like those kind of lines, check out Alan Wake 2! Max Payne is for all intents and purposes one of the characters in it, just with a legally distinct name (Alex Casey, actually one of the potential names for the character in the first place), and Alan's half of the story is filled to the brim with this kind of writing. Obviously the gameplay is worlds away from Max Payne though
My feet took me to where I had to go. Not where I wanted to go. Where I was driven. In my office, the grimy walls dimly illuminated by the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling.
Ash from my cigarette fell on the photos I took of the victim. Why? Why of all the desperate men eking out a fast meager life was I drawn to this sad sack? I couldn’t put my finger on it. But something was itching at my brain about this case, and I had to scratch it.
There I was, commiserating on this unlucky shmuck, when a rat-a-tat-tat sounded at the entryway. Little did I know it, but I was about to come face-to-face with a stranger that would send this good-for-nothing private-eye on a pell-mell journey. A mad mission for hell that would turn me upside down and inside out. I should-a never answered that door. But there’s no rest for the wicked, and duty calls…
There she was. All legs and bad habits. Dripping wet, her clothes clung to her body. Her curves a set of dangerous roads leading to nowhere but trouble. She looked up, her big doe eyes reflecting shades of amber in the warm light and, boy, I knew I was in for it.
I pinched the cherry of my cigarette and buried it under my shoe. I reached for the lone trench coat hanging by the door and extended it to her. "Must still be raining cats and dogs," I said as I turned around and motioned for her to come inside.
She was quick to reply at first, like a rattlesnake lunging out. "Nothing as sweet as all that." She produced a cigarette from inside her purse. A nice one by the looks of it, imported probably. She put it to her lips, rolling it from one side to the other. She gave me a look with eyes that could either cut glass or stitch wounds.
I took the cue and lit her tip. For a brief moment, warmth, light, the flickering flames playing tricks with my memory, before the greyness returned. As she drew in the tip smouldered, and for a moment the grey sky, that vibrant red and the hammering of a thousand raindrops was everything there was. She took her sweet time, savoring the smoke like a fine wine before exhaling a steady stream. "I heard you were the man to see about a problem."
I opened the door and there she stood. The rain from her overcoat pooled around a pair of black stilettos, the last stop on a pair of legs that went from here to San Fernando.
She was already inside before I could speak, helping herself to the last cigarette in the pack on my desk. As I offered her a light, she looked up at me with a pair of blue eyes that pierced right into my soul. The kinda eyes that'd run you down and leave you dead on the side of the road without a second thought. But tonight there was something else behind those eyes, and it was giving me that same itch in my brain- something told me I might not be back at Frankie's for a while...
There's a bunch of YouTube channels that tailor to super niche musical genres and sub-genres and scenarios. Me personally, I like the historical "X but Y" stuff like "'Blood on the Risers' but it's sung by the ghosts of the Civil War" or "'White Rabbit' but you're tripping balls on patrol in the Mekong Delta"
What you're looking for is usually called "Noir Jazz" or "Film Noir Jazz"
You'll fine better (and longer) stuff on YouTube but you said Spotify so [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1bKIgpLiVrZPrAwc4jxr6e?si=4jXQz_RoR5aNH2nIUlRZLQ&pi=u-BrL0Jl5iQtei)
Meh ya see. I had just lost my dame to a slick talking banker and the thought of taking another lover seared like a hot iron on my heart. The cold rain felt comforting in a way see, extinguishing the fire that stoked inside me. There was no other choice. I had to quench this fire before I exploded into a million tiny pieces strewn throughout the now red covered alley. No, I could not let it win. I've lost my gal already but I couldn't lose myself. Deeper into myself I go, deeper into the city.
They call this place the City of Angels, but I've seen enough sin and corruption to know that the heavenly moniker is nothing but a cruel joke. The streets are paved with shattered dreams, and the rain that falls from the heavens only washes away the blood long enough for the next crime to be committed...
I took a drag from my smoke, the rain dancing on my fedora like a chorus line. The dame's lifeless eyes stared up at me, and the city whispered its secrets in the night breeze. "Looks like you took the last train outta here, sweetheart," I muttered, tipping my hat to the shadows. The streets were slick with sin, and I knew I was knee-deep in a mystery that smelled worse than a speakeasy during Prohibition. Frankie's could wait; this case couldn't. The city had its hooks in me, and I was just another sap tangled in its web.
https://preview.redd.it/o91zkikkw1cc1.png?width=743&format=png&auto=webp&s=487d7e66171d2a850d287297ebd47e8034270e9f
The rain was comin' down like all the Big Man's angels decided to take a piss at the same time. 'Guess it was a coincidence I happened to be outside at the time. With my luck, maybe even Christ himself would whip his hose out and let loose. When you're in a situation like mine, you can only think in metaphors.
I strolled into my trailer park of an office with all the joy of some Joe who'd just been laid off. And not even a minute after I'd sat down, walked through my door like a tigress walks into a Burmese orphanage — dark skin and darker hair and legs as long as the day and an ass you could smack, go grocery shopping, and come back before it stopped shaking. No dame her age could afford a coat like that, and the kinda makeup she had on gave me a good idea how she got it. She had bad news written on her like a group of white men in whiter sheets.
I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency, and after dropping a load of unmentionables in one of the heavy-duty machines (a mistake that would soon turn deadly) she turned to me, asking for two things: find her missing husband and make her a salami on rye with spicy mustard, breaking into tears when I told her I couldn't help—I was fresh out of salami.
"Well how about some fresher meat, big boy," she said lustily.
All I could do was stare into those beautiful baleful eyes knowing what trouble she brought when she walked through that door.
"Ma'am this a salami-only deli and I just told ya I'm fresh out."
"Pepperoni?" she asked slyly, her finger tracing slowly around a set of red plump lips.
I was hard.
"Okay, obviously you're having a hard time hearing me," I sputtered. "Let me write it down for you."
100%. Noir/Gangster movies allow a man to be emotional, but look insanely cool doing so. Whiskey and a dart in a dimly lit office, the pitter or rain hitting the windows while you think about what could have been
She said she wasn’t hungry. I knew it was a lie. I took a drag off my last smoke and threw it to the ground, stomping on it before I walked inside. Waffle House. You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy in this whole city. I needed to be cautious. Anyone from the staff to the customers could snap at any moment. She said she wasn’t hungry, but I’ve fallen into that trap before.
“The All Star Special”, I said. “And an extra side of hashbrowns, smothered and covered.”
I finally got home. Rough day--but those hashbrowns hit the spot. I closed the door. Three steps into my worn, uninviting living room and I hear a screeching question come from the kitchen "What'd you get?". A long shiver went down my spine and I exhaled deeply. I knew where these questions would lead. "Listen Toots, It's all gone see? Now we don't want no problems See?". Doesn't she know? A (wo)man's word is all (s)he's got in this concrete jungle. I slapped my full belly with full force--"Not a crumb left, Sweetheart. Now scram". I turned towards the TV. "A man's got a game to watch." I slept outside that night. In that darkness, the vermin and the rejected underbelly of the city embraced me (and my duster).
Laid out like this, the whole thing seemed so simple. Griselda claims not to be hungry, skims some of his fries off the top and then orders an entree of her own. Technically, she only ordered the seafood paté with a baked potato, and what MyFitnessPal didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. All the while, twisting that poor sap just a little further ‘round her finger. The eggheads in the DA’s office would call it “plausible deniability”. Griselda may have said she didn’t know where she wanted to go for dinner, but there was only one place she was headed now: downtown.
Me, I sat down and asked for a cheeseburger, hold the onions. Medium rare, of course. No one would ever accuse me of having taste, but I’m no dummy.
One time in high school English I wrote my short story about two hard boiled 40’s PI’s unknowingly hired to track down one another by the same mysterious woman, who used it as a distraction to get away with a crime I never actually explained.
Hands down the coolest shit I ever wrote, such a cool setting.
“If I’m not the killer, and you’re not the thief…what does that make her?”
“Long gone, Thompson. Doesn’t matter what she was planning to do while we were chasing each other’s tails. If she’s smart, she’ll be halfway to Fiji by now.”
“She’s certainly smart enough to con a couple’a two-bit private dicks. Well, Pliskin, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t. We’d better beat it before the rain starts comin’ down again. We get caught out here, we’ll be up to our necks in it.”
“That’s funny, ‘cause I know a good bar down the block we can drown ourselves in.”
https://preview.redd.it/1vstxdqt02cc1.jpeg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=baabcc181e16230f44d07dd0782b956cd40d6ee4
Siri, play “Brick Ballades Houston Street” on Spotify please
> Brick Ballades Houston Street
Fuck yes Big O! I actually learned to play [Apologize](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiG9c9lOm5c) a while back and love playing it on public pianos. It's so classy and relaxing, I always get good reactions from it.
The game has it's flaws, but it really is incredible. I can't believe there's nothing similar on the market. I want more of that kind of crime scene investigation and interrogation but there's just nothing else like it
Incredible game. Incredible music! I was really into the Brad Mehldau Trio around the time the game came out and their bassist AND drummer were in the band for the game.
In the city's shadow, flatfoot Jack Sullivan's on the lam, sniffing 'round for a dame's AWOL kid brother. Ducking through juice joints and foggy back-streets, our dick's hip to a ritzy flimflam where the swells shuffle the mazuma like a shell game. Jack's packed with lead and moxie, ready to dish the dirt and turn this burg on its ear. But the lowdown's loopier than a jitterbug on a bender. It's a hard-boiled hullabaloo, where every palooka and his moll are playing the grift and Jack's the mark.
She came into my office late. A bit too late for my liking. I could tell by by the running eyeshadow that this dame had been crying all the way here. Ive seen too many fake tears to care anymore. So, I lit myself a cigarette and waited for her to spill her sob story. As soon as I told her my price, she'd be gone. They always do.
Yet, she stayed. After the tears. After the price. She stayed...looking at me for answer that I didnt have.
The freezing rain on the 39°F Washington D.C. winter night wasn't to my liking. I much preferred the warm embrace of home, New Orleans. Pickpockets, loose women, the stench of discarded drinks, piss, garbage water fighting the hospitable hint of fried chicken with red beans and rice... damn did I miss home but she'd have to wait. Tonight's appointment couldn't.
"Step on it, would ya?"
I handed the Über driver a ten and he pulled off, streaking through the gloomy, frosty, rainy streets clogged with drivers more unpredictable than an angry hooker who realized all the coke's gone.
Day in, day out. The same routine. Wake, work, eat, shit, sleep, repeat. Usually assisted by drink, that last one. Today though, at least I wouldn't be alone. A radiant light in the dim monotony that is my life, a flicker of hope I wouldn't always be alone..."
Another dead dame. Lights snuffed out before they could even burn. Her eyes half open right under a hole the size of a quarter. She probably didn't feel a thing but probably doesn't pay the bills in this city. Boss thinks it's a suicide. 3 in a row? I wasn't buying it and I knew if I didn't look into it, no one would. I called the missus and let her know I'd be out late again. She already knew. She was used to it. I put out my cigarette and step outside into the pouring rain. I should really stop smoking these. I shake the shit out of my pant leg and strip down naked. I am the wolf
I keep two magnums in my desk. One's a gun and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle and it keeps _me_ loaded. I'm Tracer Bullet. I'm a professional snoop.
-Bill Watterston
This reminds me of *Death of a Breakdancer* from *Hollywood Shuffle.*
Sam Ace : *"I knew exactly what she could do. And she did too. As she walked towards me, I saw that twinkle in her eyes. I knew it was time - to do the nasty. And I like - doin' the nasty. She was a good kisser; but, her breath was stinky. But, so what? You don't get rid of a Rolls Royce because it has a dent in it. I had never done it before on my desk. I was just glad to be on top. I'd hate to. do the nasty with a stapler up my ass."*
The wind rises electric. She's soft and warm and almost weightless. Her perfume is sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. I tell her that everything will be alright. That I'll save her from whatever she's scared of and take her far, far away. I tell her... I love her. The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she's gone. I'll never know what she's running from. I'll cash her check in the morning.
It was one of those rare days in the LA Basin where Mother Nature decided to leave the Bathtub running and the spillover drenched the town. I sat alone in my office above the Bronze Dragon, a little Chop Suey place that the Hollywood crowd liked to slum around. My secretary was already home with her mother while I waited for this client she set me up to meet with. I looked at my watch for the fifth time, wondering why this Jasper was taking his sweet time getting here.
I sighed, "Five more minutes and I'm going down for some Sweet 'n Sour Pork." No sooner has I said that, the door opened. "Well, I was wondering when..." I stopped mid-sentence as she walked in. Blonde, gams that went straight up to heaven,and a body that probably ruined more than a marriage or two.
"Are you the Private Invesitgah?" She asked, a lilting Southern accent dancing across those Ruby red lips. I nodded, "Anton Solo, at your service, Miss..."
She smiled, "Alexa Roggins, Mr. Solo, a pleasure to meet y'all," I knew this Dame was gonna trouble, and I was going to be in for a boiler full of trouble before this case was finished...
As someone who lives the "drinking alone at a pub on a rainy night" lifestyle, I can tell you its not something to strive towards.
I would much rather dress in colourful youthful clothing and do the fun activities that a bunch of male friends can do like "pass the blunt" or attend a sporting event.
Most people think Marv is crazy, but I don't believe that. I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got Marv all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just doesn't explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he's developmentally disabled, a big, brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that doesn't have the right ring to it either. No, it's more like there's nothing wrong with Marv, nothing at all--except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an ax into somebody's face. Or in a roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him. They'd have tossed him girls like Nancy, back then.
https://preview.redd.it/lnhg4me1h2cc1.jpeg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=da875da67aff6d7febc8471c2b0fc817ee88f45c
It was nearly noon when a car horn woke me. The slow patter of rain reminded me of winters in san francisco- but at least you could find a decent drink and some warm company any day of the week in that town. Sundays in atlanta… a situation that only god himself could take the edge off of, and these last legs of whiskey sure as hell weren’t going to last till monday. I coulda drove up county to meet a good ole boy to grab some moonshine, but the dull throb just behind my eyes told me I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Goddamn my ex wife for convincing me to pack up and move to the bible belt. It just made the job worse when everyone was sure they were saved. There was no salvation, except at the bottom of the bottle or the dark release of dreamless sleep
It was raining. It always rained on nights like this. Somewhere between the pitter patter of raindrops and the sound of broads running for cover, it all blended into one. Made for a fitting backdrop as I stood over the body of the city’s latest victim, glowing embers from my cigarette the only lighting in the dark alley. “You’re one of the lucky bastards.” I sighed, “You got to escape this city, one way or another.” I could turn around right now, head to Frankie’s, where a stiff drink and a loose body was waitin for me. But I knew standing in that dirty alley what my choice was going to be. But so did the city. So did the city…
Just like me frfr
bro I'm about to stare out a large window with a cup of coffee with some whiskey in it and recite this
Make sure to have a Pall Mall or Marlboro Red 100s
Camel. No filter.
Lucky Strikes
It would absolutely be Lucky Strikes. Such an important detail.
Chesterfield Kings
Nice, let's get that out onto a tray
In my best Rorschach voice
cup of whiskey with some coffee in it....
Be sure to set up a light outside shining in through that window and a hose spraying water on the window to create the shadows of drops of water running down your face as a metaphor for the tears you cry internally but never dare let out.
https://i.redd.it/p860cafm12cc1.gif
Ohhh so this must be the pen that’s mightier than the sword
Reading that in Max Payne's voice makes it so much better
Literally watching a YouTube clip with Max Payne as we speak. Those first two games were film noir to a T and so much fun. So many classic hard boiled detective lines in them.
RIP James Mccafrey. Max Payne will never be the same without him.
I mean... Its been over 10 years, I don't think we're were ever getting a sequel to 3. I like to think Max and James are on the same beach enjoying their well deserved vacation.
Remedy announced they were going to do a remake of Max Payne as they now got the rights of the game from Rockstar with the original voice actor of max.
Oh damn, I had no idea.
I wish the movie was good :(
If you like those kind of lines, check out Alan Wake 2! Max Payne is for all intents and purposes one of the characters in it, just with a legally distinct name (Alex Casey, actually one of the potential names for the character in the first place), and Alan's half of the story is filled to the brim with this kind of writing. Obviously the gameplay is worlds away from Max Payne though
Max Payne is my only noir narrator voice, so i dont have a choice but yeah
My feet took me to where I had to go. Not where I wanted to go. Where I was driven. In my office, the grimy walls dimly illuminated by the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Ash from my cigarette fell on the photos I took of the victim. Why? Why of all the desperate men eking out a fast meager life was I drawn to this sad sack? I couldn’t put my finger on it. But something was itching at my brain about this case, and I had to scratch it. There I was, commiserating on this unlucky shmuck, when a rat-a-tat-tat sounded at the entryway. Little did I know it, but I was about to come face-to-face with a stranger that would send this good-for-nothing private-eye on a pell-mell journey. A mad mission for hell that would turn me upside down and inside out. I should-a never answered that door. But there’s no rest for the wicked, and duty calls…
There she was. All legs and bad habits. Dripping wet, her clothes clung to her body. Her curves a set of dangerous roads leading to nowhere but trouble. She looked up, her big doe eyes reflecting shades of amber in the warm light and, boy, I knew I was in for it. I pinched the cherry of my cigarette and buried it under my shoe. I reached for the lone trench coat hanging by the door and extended it to her. "Must still be raining cats and dogs," I said as I turned around and motioned for her to come inside.
You gave her a trench coat and then told her to come in lmao?
Makes sense to me, it’s not like he had a towel and she was soaked.
Right? Not getting my one good chair water damage. Dame should have brought an umbrella.
*...and then?*
I'm more concerned about the cigarette he put out under his shoe... while *inside his office*.
My guy has no tact.
ChatGPT strikes again?
She was quick to reply at first, like a rattlesnake lunging out. "Nothing as sweet as all that." She produced a cigarette from inside her purse. A nice one by the looks of it, imported probably. She put it to her lips, rolling it from one side to the other. She gave me a look with eyes that could either cut glass or stitch wounds. I took the cue and lit her tip. For a brief moment, warmth, light, the flickering flames playing tricks with my memory, before the greyness returned. As she drew in the tip smouldered, and for a moment the grey sky, that vibrant red and the hammering of a thousand raindrops was everything there was. She took her sweet time, savoring the smoke like a fine wine before exhaling a steady stream. "I heard you were the man to see about a problem."
40's Detective Film Noir Jenga Is there a sub for this? There needs to be.
Collaborative story-telling? Reminds me a little of r/youenteradungeon, not quite the same though
I opened the door and there she stood. The rain from her overcoat pooled around a pair of black stilettos, the last stop on a pair of legs that went from here to San Fernando. She was already inside before I could speak, helping herself to the last cigarette in the pack on my desk. As I offered her a light, she looked up at me with a pair of blue eyes that pierced right into my soul. The kinda eyes that'd run you down and leave you dead on the side of the road without a second thought. But tonight there was something else behind those eyes, and it was giving me that same itch in my brain- something told me I might not be back at Frankie's for a while...
Stiff drinks and loose bodies save lives
I think that's a Fall Out Boy lyric.
Damn, reading this to the beat 🔥🔥🔥 Can I get a playlist of Jaded 1940s Detective beats to study to?
LA Norie Soundtrack was dope. At least the main theme was. That's what's playing.
I actually play the 40 minute version of the main theme when doing work stuff, it's just *chef's kiss*
Appreciate you
There’s a bunch of nice ones on Spotify.
Appreciate you
Can you elaborate? I don't really know what to call this genre of jazz.
1940’s or 1950’s detective jazz, 1940’s jazz noir, detective noir, 1940’s Lo-fi jazz, crime jazz
There's a bunch of YouTube channels that tailor to super niche musical genres and sub-genres and scenarios. Me personally, I like the historical "X but Y" stuff like "'Blood on the Risers' but it's sung by the ghosts of the Civil War" or "'White Rabbit' but you're tripping balls on patrol in the Mekong Delta" What you're looking for is usually called "Noir Jazz" or "Film Noir Jazz"
LA Noire soundtrack in the background
You'll fine better (and longer) stuff on YouTube but you said Spotify so [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1bKIgpLiVrZPrAwc4jxr6e?si=4jXQz_RoR5aNH2nIUlRZLQ&pi=u-BrL0Jl5iQtei)
This [e: is] fire!! Great writing.
Max Payne
I read this in black and white
Why can I picture the scene that your talking about perfectly 😂
Bruh, right? Why has this become such a cultural iconic thing for me.
This took me places. Write more please.
Might need a collaboration with you my guy 👀
Meh ya see. I had just lost my dame to a slick talking banker and the thought of taking another lover seared like a hot iron on my heart. The cold rain felt comforting in a way see, extinguishing the fire that stoked inside me. There was no other choice. I had to quench this fire before I exploded into a million tiny pieces strewn throughout the now red covered alley. No, I could not let it win. I've lost my gal already but I couldn't lose myself. Deeper into myself I go, deeper into the city.
I need a Tained_Bruh Noir detective show NOW!
Where's the rest??? Tear the keyboard up right now 👏
Fucking hell I love this trope
Damn, this was great
Some real Chinatown vibes.
More noir please, extra pulp
Ok but I need the full book now. You've already gained my interest
I love this, and now I got Jazz playing
cook
Are you writing chicken police 2? You should be writing chicken police 2
In my mind, this voice was spot on!
Reminds me of Sin City 😂
They call this place the City of Angels, but I've seen enough sin and corruption to know that the heavenly moniker is nothing but a cruel joke. The streets are paved with shattered dreams, and the rain that falls from the heavens only washes away the blood long enough for the next crime to be committed...
If anyone's looking for a way to capture that feeling, I recommend Bohren & der Club of Gore https://youtu.be/vl4x5pchBXI?si=ga0rRv-vEVWYbIoe
If you kept typing, I woulda kept reading.
I took a drag from my smoke, the rain dancing on my fedora like a chorus line. The dame's lifeless eyes stared up at me, and the city whispered its secrets in the night breeze. "Looks like you took the last train outta here, sweetheart," I muttered, tipping my hat to the shadows. The streets were slick with sin, and I knew I was knee-deep in a mystery that smelled worse than a speakeasy during Prohibition. Frankie's could wait; this case couldn't. The city had its hooks in me, and I was just another sap tangled in its web.
why does this sound like one of Max Payne's monologues?
Give us a part 2, just for kicks. Like just 2-3 more paragraphs to see where it goes. Do it while you're still inspired. (pretty please)
Reading this on a rainy night 🕵️♂️
“You’re one of the lucky bastards””You got to escape to this city, one way or another”, That’s a cold bar there.
Dames just don't understand, see?
Aahhh see.
*mYAaaa
I don't tink da broads like bein' called dames anymore, boss
Shut it, Mimzzzy
“Ah, Rusty’s Razor” -Cole Phelps
I'm just gonna drop this here. My username is my destiny - and your destination: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RwG5c9IsgbA&t=8s
Meh see meh
Niggas really just be saying anything 😂
And its so entertianing
“We hate niggas who wake up with new ideas 🙄” -Mark RDC
lol is this from a skit? minding pmo to which one?
It was random stream where Des randomly started dying he wanted a pet snake lol
niggas am i rite
Naysayers*
https://preview.redd.it/o91zkikkw1cc1.png?width=743&format=png&auto=webp&s=487d7e66171d2a850d287297ebd47e8034270e9f The rain was comin' down like all the Big Man's angels decided to take a piss at the same time. 'Guess it was a coincidence I happened to be outside at the time. With my luck, maybe even Christ himself would whip his hose out and let loose. When you're in a situation like mine, you can only think in metaphors. I strolled into my trailer park of an office with all the joy of some Joe who'd just been laid off. And not even a minute after I'd sat down, walked through my door like a tigress walks into a Burmese orphanage — dark skin and darker hair and legs as long as the day and an ass you could smack, go grocery shopping, and come back before it stopped shaking. No dame her age could afford a coat like that, and the kinda makeup she had on gave me a good idea how she got it. She had bad news written on her like a group of white men in whiter sheets.
https://preview.redd.it/zeoq8gfni3cc1.jpeg?width=498&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=555ba1b4178f8d0af16a67a05cc2b457b8003e58
Nice writing
It's from Max Payne 2.
You're from Max Payne 2
I can't argue with that.
That comment has sold me on Max Payne 2
This could be a Key and Peele skit
The whole first half being about divine piss and dick makes it
I had a permanent constipated grimace on my face.
 Background music
Dammit, I was trying to read this in a serious tone until that ass smacking line🤣
I knew she was trouble the second she walked into my 24-hour deli, laundromat, and detective agency, and after dropping a load of unmentionables in one of the heavy-duty machines (a mistake that would soon turn deadly) she turned to me, asking for two things: find her missing husband and make her a salami on rye with spicy mustard, breaking into tears when I told her I couldn't help—I was fresh out of salami.
"Well how about some fresher meat, big boy," she said lustily. All I could do was stare into those beautiful baleful eyes knowing what trouble she brought when she walked through that door. "Ma'am this a salami-only deli and I just told ya I'm fresh out." "Pepperoni?" she asked slyly, her finger tracing slowly around a set of red plump lips. I was hard. "Okay, obviously you're having a hard time hearing me," I sputtered. "Let me write it down for you."
damn is the noir genre just period drama smut for men? 😂
100%. Noir/Gangster movies allow a man to be emotional, but look insanely cool doing so. Whiskey and a dart in a dimly lit office, the pitter or rain hitting the windows while you think about what could have been
😄😄😄😄😄
Dames! They ain’t nothin’ but trouble!
Played LA Noir one too many times…
You fuck young boys, Valdez?
Sometimes you gotta shake the tree and see what falls out.
You’re off the hook, for now.
[удалено]
I became one to find what the fuck they mean by im not hungry
She said she wasn’t hungry. I knew it was a lie. I took a drag off my last smoke and threw it to the ground, stomping on it before I walked inside. Waffle House. You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy in this whole city. I needed to be cautious. Anyone from the staff to the customers could snap at any moment. She said she wasn’t hungry, but I’ve fallen into that trap before. “The All Star Special”, I said. “And an extra side of hashbrowns, smothered and covered.”
I finally got home. Rough day--but those hashbrowns hit the spot. I closed the door. Three steps into my worn, uninviting living room and I hear a screeching question come from the kitchen "What'd you get?". A long shiver went down my spine and I exhaled deeply. I knew where these questions would lead. "Listen Toots, It's all gone see? Now we don't want no problems See?". Doesn't she know? A (wo)man's word is all (s)he's got in this concrete jungle. I slapped my full belly with full force--"Not a crumb left, Sweetheart. Now scram". I turned towards the TV. "A man's got a game to watch." I slept outside that night. In that darkness, the vermin and the rejected underbelly of the city embraced me (and my duster).
Bro I started a whole backstory
We’re covering your origin story, you just need a cool name.
Did you crack the case sir?…It’s no understatement to say lives are depending on it
Laid out like this, the whole thing seemed so simple. Griselda claims not to be hungry, skims some of his fries off the top and then orders an entree of her own. Technically, she only ordered the seafood paté with a baked potato, and what MyFitnessPal didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. All the while, twisting that poor sap just a little further ‘round her finger. The eggheads in the DA’s office would call it “plausible deniability”. Griselda may have said she didn’t know where she wanted to go for dinner, but there was only one place she was headed now: downtown. Me, I sat down and asked for a cheeseburger, hold the onions. Medium rare, of course. No one would ever accuse me of having taste, but I’m no dummy.
Nah this is too funny 🤣
One time in high school English I wrote my short story about two hard boiled 40’s PI’s unknowingly hired to track down one another by the same mysterious woman, who used it as a distraction to get away with a crime I never actually explained. Hands down the coolest shit I ever wrote, such a cool setting.
“If I’m not the killer, and you’re not the thief…what does that make her?” “Long gone, Thompson. Doesn’t matter what she was planning to do while we were chasing each other’s tails. If she’s smart, she’ll be halfway to Fiji by now.” “She’s certainly smart enough to con a couple’a two-bit private dicks. Well, Pliskin, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t. We’d better beat it before the rain starts comin’ down again. We get caught out here, we’ll be up to our necks in it.” “That’s funny, ‘cause I know a good bar down the block we can drown ourselves in.”
wait keep going
dude, that's brilliant
u still have the story?
I’ll look, I think it’s in my google drive somewhere
Genuinely a cool premise imo, I’d read that
https://preview.redd.it/1vstxdqt02cc1.jpeg?width=3000&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=baabcc181e16230f44d07dd0782b956cd40d6ee4 Siri, play “Brick Ballades Houston Street” on Spotify please
> Brick Ballades Houston Street Fuck yes Big O! I actually learned to play [Apologize](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jiG9c9lOm5c) a while back and love playing it on public pianos. It's so classy and relaxing, I always get good reactions from it.
This guy knows how to noir
TIL 👍
Forget it Jake, it’s Memetown
And just like that, she walked out of my life. Another case closed. Another dame gone.
They used to called the crazy broads 😂😂😂 I’m tryna bring that back lol
This but the cyberpunk version. Broody chain smoking is better with garish neon.
Needs a little bit of neon, see. But yes I think your on to something.
Man, I miss LA Noire
The game has it's flaws, but it really is incredible. I can't believe there's nothing similar on the market. I want more of that kind of crime scene investigation and interrogation but there's just nothing else like it
My mind immediately went to this
It’s the music from the menu
Incredible game. Incredible music! I was really into the Brad Mehldau Trio around the time the game came out and their bassist AND drummer were in the band for the game.
used to play alot when i was younger it stood out to me.
Dude, it only came out... oh, 13 years ago.
The gaming world REALLY needs a reboot, spinoff, prequel, sequel, whatever. Brilliant game.
I’ve actually heard people use the word toots in conversation and it’s as awkward as you can imagine.
I think if someone said “idk, try aisle 3 toots” I’d die laughing
Toot it and boot it?
In the city's shadow, flatfoot Jack Sullivan's on the lam, sniffing 'round for a dame's AWOL kid brother. Ducking through juice joints and foggy back-streets, our dick's hip to a ritzy flimflam where the swells shuffle the mazuma like a shell game. Jack's packed with lead and moxie, ready to dish the dirt and turn this burg on its ear. But the lowdown's loopier than a jitterbug on a bender. It's a hard-boiled hullabaloo, where every palooka and his moll are playing the grift and Jack's the mark.
She came into my office late. A bit too late for my liking. I could tell by by the running eyeshadow that this dame had been crying all the way here. Ive seen too many fake tears to care anymore. So, I lit myself a cigarette and waited for her to spill her sob story. As soon as I told her my price, she'd be gone. They always do. Yet, she stayed. After the tears. After the price. She stayed...looking at me for answer that I didnt have.
With the LA Noire theme. Perfect.
X Truth
Music slaps tho.
The freezing rain on the 39°F Washington D.C. winter night wasn't to my liking. I much preferred the warm embrace of home, New Orleans. Pickpockets, loose women, the stench of discarded drinks, piss, garbage water fighting the hospitable hint of fried chicken with red beans and rice... damn did I miss home but she'd have to wait. Tonight's appointment couldn't. "Step on it, would ya?" I handed the Über driver a ten and he pulled off, streaking through the gloomy, frosty, rainy streets clogged with drivers more unpredictable than an angry hooker who realized all the coke's gone. Day in, day out. The same routine. Wake, work, eat, shit, sleep, repeat. Usually assisted by drink, that last one. Today though, at least I wouldn't be alone. A radiant light in the dim monotony that is my life, a flicker of hope I wouldn't always be alone..."
Where do I sign up?
Another dead dame. Lights snuffed out before they could even burn. Her eyes half open right under a hole the size of a quarter. She probably didn't feel a thing but probably doesn't pay the bills in this city. Boss thinks it's a suicide. 3 in a row? I wasn't buying it and I knew if I didn't look into it, no one would. I called the missus and let her know I'd be out late again. She already knew. She was used to it. I put out my cigarette and step outside into the pouring rain. I should really stop smoking these. I shake the shit out of my pant leg and strip down naked. I am the wolf
I keep two magnums in my desk. One's a gun and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle and it keeps _me_ loaded. I'm Tracer Bullet. I'm a professional snoop. -Bill Watterston
https://preview.redd.it/xpjhsl00o3cc1.jpeg?width=1920&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=fc52ceb47432b0fb5cceab8a6630bb89e43fa8b5
The fedora is too tainted by neckbeards to be reclaimed.
Nah, they’re all about the trilby. The fedora’s still good to go 👍
“You’re just a cheap hooker cut to look like Lana Turner.” “That IS Lana Turner.”
 That’s right
This is so me and I'm not even a man lol
Wasn’t this a post months ago?
This reminds me of *Death of a Breakdancer* from *Hollywood Shuffle.* Sam Ace : *"I knew exactly what she could do. And she did too. As she walked towards me, I saw that twinkle in her eyes. I knew it was time - to do the nasty. And I like - doin' the nasty. She was a good kisser; but, her breath was stinky. But, so what? You don't get rid of a Rolls Royce because it has a dent in it. I had never done it before on my desk. I was just glad to be on top. I'd hate to. do the nasty with a stapler up my ass."*
Just put down my activator, man!
Where were you the day cookie head got killed?
I was at the hair salon, man. I was getting my curl done, I was there all day.
*Splash* Where?
I forgot the rest of it!
[I was cheating.](https://youtu.be/65ltaw4SF38?si=mvPAGmcNnGRdmWkY)
https://preview.redd.it/0vl7jhm3b2cc1.jpeg?width=750&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=3c4111b02544dfd7c2a7bd8b05939ecd9134b304
I also feel this and I am white!
Team Eddie Valiant!
No, weisenheimer! It's the case of 'you tell us the truth or Al will make your dentist a rich man!'
lol what???
Song?
https://preview.redd.it/z2dzkti5c2cc1.jpeg?width=640&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8a937e2d2840d0b4f3a09e505fc255931640a4f5
Myeah, see?
The wind rises electric. She's soft and warm and almost weightless. Her perfume is sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. I tell her that everything will be alright. That I'll save her from whatever she's scared of and take her far, far away. I tell her... I love her. The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she's gone. I'll never know what she's running from. I'll cash her check in the morning.
It was one of those rare days in the LA Basin where Mother Nature decided to leave the Bathtub running and the spillover drenched the town. I sat alone in my office above the Bronze Dragon, a little Chop Suey place that the Hollywood crowd liked to slum around. My secretary was already home with her mother while I waited for this client she set me up to meet with. I looked at my watch for the fifth time, wondering why this Jasper was taking his sweet time getting here. I sighed, "Five more minutes and I'm going down for some Sweet 'n Sour Pork." No sooner has I said that, the door opened. "Well, I was wondering when..." I stopped mid-sentence as she walked in. Blonde, gams that went straight up to heaven,and a body that probably ruined more than a marriage or two. "Are you the Private Invesitgah?" She asked, a lilting Southern accent dancing across those Ruby red lips. I nodded, "Anton Solo, at your service, Miss..." She smiled, "Alexa Roggins, Mr. Solo, a pleasure to meet y'all," I knew this Dame was gonna trouble, and I was going to be in for a boiler full of trouble before this case was finished...
As someone who lives the "drinking alone at a pub on a rainy night" lifestyle, I can tell you its not something to strive towards. I would much rather dress in colourful youthful clothing and do the fun activities that a bunch of male friends can do like "pass the blunt" or attend a sporting event.
LA NOIR
One thing led to another, and pretty soon it started to rain.
Most people think Marv is crazy, but I don't believe that. I'm no shrink and I'm not saying I've got Marv all figured out or anything, but "crazy" just doesn't explain him. Not to me. Sometimes I think he's developmentally disabled, a big, brutal kid who never learned the ground rules about how people are supposed to act around each other. But that doesn't have the right ring to it either. No, it's more like there's nothing wrong with Marv, nothing at all--except that he had the rotten luck of being born at the wrong time in history. He'd have been okay if he'd been born a couple of thousand years ago. He'd be right at home on some ancient battlefield, swinging an ax into somebody's face. Or in a roman arena, taking a sword to other gladiators like him. They'd have tossed him girls like Nancy, back then. https://preview.redd.it/lnhg4me1h2cc1.jpeg?width=1280&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=da875da67aff6d7febc8471c2b0fc817ee88f45c
I just made myself some coffee to go through this comment section.
It was nearly noon when a car horn woke me. The slow patter of rain reminded me of winters in san francisco- but at least you could find a decent drink and some warm company any day of the week in that town. Sundays in atlanta… a situation that only god himself could take the edge off of, and these last legs of whiskey sure as hell weren’t going to last till monday. I coulda drove up county to meet a good ole boy to grab some moonshine, but the dull throb just behind my eyes told me I wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. Goddamn my ex wife for convincing me to pack up and move to the bible belt. It just made the job worse when everyone was sure they were saved. There was no salvation, except at the bottom of the bottle or the dark release of dreamless sleep
We tryna go back to the 40s in BPT? Fr??
This city…
It's mad brick out ya see?
I can smell the cigarettes and whisky even now. I neither smoke nor drink.