You do not know me. And that's actually a very good thing because if you knew me prier to this you would most likely be dead by now if your not one of my close friends, so yea. your probably wondering who I am. My name is John Jean Rametta and well...I'm a gangster. There's no other way to put it besides that. But I'm not your run-of-the-mill pants sagging chain wearing thug, and I'm not your drugged-out-of-his-mind heroin shooting dime-a-dozen killer, Okay. I'm what a gagster is suppose to be, A gentlemen. A gentlemen that will always be the best man he could possibly be, but also knows how to deal drugs, kill anything that moves, steal cars, rob store's and basically do what ever it takes to get respect.
That's what a gangster should be. not a stupid mother fucker doing drugs and saying there hard, no,being a gangster should be nothing like that. Being a gagster means you should get respect because of what you do, not what you say. But none of that shit matters. mainly because of the situation I'm in. Back on Erath I was so wanted that every Moring I would wake up grab my AK-47 and open my front door to make sure I was safe. Cops were fucking everywhere I went always hunting me down like I was an animal. It was fucking terrifying to say the least. But one day I saw a golden opportunity. My boss knew that I was the god damn best when ever it can to doing anything. I was lucky that he really like me of all people.
Thing is this in a gang when the boss likes you he really doesn't want you dead. He wants you alive for everything. But it's like in a video game when you have only one super strong powerful guy. Do you sent him to fight and die or do you keep him alive and sent out the little guys that are not that good. Lucky for me the boss wanted me alive. So he sent me to the one place the cops would never find me, Equestria yes land of fucking talking horse that can fly and float shit around. Land of the god damn brightest girlist colors of the rainbow. Sounds fucking great for the guy that spend all day torturing people for information, Burying dead bodies, selling drugs, and shooting people in the face. Yea call me dark all you want, all I know is this shit is fucking weird to me.
So, now that you know my life before this I can tell you the tale of my life in Equestria starting from day one.
Day One: Jesus fucking Christ, I can't believe this shit
Start of day one. It's all good so far . I just got through the portal and now I need a place to live and a means to communicate with the boss. I walk to a display case with a map inside. In big bold letters it reads: Map Of Equestria. I Close my eyes and stick out my finger. Pressing my finger down on the map I open my eyes to see where it landed."Ponyville...Well, better get there and make myself at home". I hop on rain 203 to Ponyville and with a blow of the trains whistle we were off.
Siting in the dining car of the train I pulled out my bag of coins and looked at the alcoholic beverages on the menu."12oz bottle of vodka...18 bits! Better be some good damn vodka then. Better be Russian too, swear to god if they give me that gay ass French grey goose vodka someone's ass is getting kicked today". I pull aside one of the waitresses. "Excuse me, may I please have some vodka"? I asked in the nicest voice I could. I don't know why but when ever I talked to a waiter or someone like that I felt like I had to be on my best behavior. "I'm sorry what did you say, I didn't hear you correctly". Of course... no matter where I go in this multiverse I can never escape my heavy Russian accent. "I said, may I please have some vodka? Oh, Okay I'll have it right away. Thank you." Gotta say, it sucks trying to speak to people in English because of my accent. unlike most people from Russia, my accent is so heavy it sounds fake. Imagine The voice of Nikolai Belinski, Niko Belic, And Stalin himself all mixed together, you would have my voice. After about 3 minuets the waitress came back with my bottle of vodka in han...or hoof since the call it that. I don't understand why thou. Its a hand without the pinkie finger that has fur on it that's pretty much it just call it a fucking hand. "That will be 18 bits. Here you go. Thank you very much sir." And that was it. I just sat there taking sips of vodka every once and a while, waiting for the train to reach its stop.
