Louis De'la Croix: a former french nationalist, now turned prime minister and ruler of the United Pacificans, one of the most ignorant countries on the face of planet Bob. Louis sat on his window thinking about the recent mercy killings of several terminally ill civilians in the northern district, all who had been infected because of their risky behaviors, and drinking to the beat of "On the Floor" by an old DJ whose name he coudn't remember, when something caught his eye in the alley between El Guerillo market and the Kent sports shop. Two shapes wiggled along the dark walls in the night. Two men, no, kids, pulled out something, and just stood there, facing the walls. "Wadrr you up to...." Louis turned on his lantern, and aimed it at the kids. It was bright enough that Louis could see that they were spraying Graffiti on the wall. The kids looked towards the light and ran. Louis rolled back into his private quarters and called his secretary. "Jessica, call the cops. Tell em we have a couple of screw ups right by my house." "Yes sir." Louis took the 12 oz cup of beer from his dresser and downed half of it. Two minutes later, Jessica reported back. "Sorry Luis, but the land line is down. I'll get a mechanic right on it." "Ugh....atleast I can count on you always, hehe" He tried to sound cool over the phone. "Sir go get some rest." Jessica promptly hung up the phone. "Get some rest...yeah right." Louis grabbed his Desert Eagle from under his bed, and loaded it clumsily. He stomped outside and wandered about the neighborhood, drunk. It didn't take too long to bump into the two hooligans he'd seen messing up the market, HIS market. Luis shot two rounds into the air in their direction, and the boys froze. They weren't older than 17 years, either of them. "Please, don't shoot us!!" One said. He shot them anyway, without a thought, before they had a chance to ruin his night again. He emptied the clip and, still drunk, wandered the neighborhood, when he reached his own house. It was 1 in the mornin, and all the doors were locked. Louis tried climbing through the bathroom window, triggering a crude alarm he'd installed himself a few weeks earlier. The alarm went straight to the police station and accomplished what Jessica had not. He gave the alarm the middle finger, and went back to bed. Around two in the morning, there was a knock on the door. Louis wasn't sleeping, he was just lying on the floor, so he got up despite the huge hangover he had. At the door was one of the local militia, Fredric was it...no, no it was just Fred, it was a new guy, Louis knew that. "What do you want?" "Good morning sir, I just want to inform you about a double homicide right here in your neighborhood, and it sure might help the guys back at the PD if you told us about anything you saw last night." Louis leaned in to Fred's ear. "Listen here buddy, I don't know nutin, and I didn't do nothin. K?" Louis pulled out 3 Gs wrapped in a rubber band, and handed it to the officer. "Riiiiight....I'll just leave you to your business." Fred walked away, whistling, $3,000 richer.