- HIDDEN PACKAGES IN GTA VC MOBILE DRIVER
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Sound files seemingly recorded between two cans connected by a string play at odd angles and strange times. Cartel members loom at me with strange long fingers.
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A limo driver I’m supposed to assassinate gets stuck running in place behind a tree. There’s the semi-crucial country bridge that appears and disappears based on what precise angle you look at it from. There’s the weird bug that keeps happening when, if I reverse my car into another vehicle at the wrong angle, it invisibly winches itself to that vehicle. We have to discuss the GTA Trilogy: Remastered, which dropped a couple of weeks ago and retails for £60 and absolutely sucks, in every possible way. I am in that strange moment of adolescence where I can stay up until 4AM for some reason and never really feel the after effects of it. If I have a mobile phone, I probably check it one or two times a day. It is 2005 and I am 18 and my wrist is covered from the lurid orange debris of a pipe of Texas BBQ Pringles.
It doesn’t matter what happens to me now, what games I play: I am sat in a beanbag on the ninth or tenth hour of Saturday gameplay, no missions left to do and no characters left to meet, and I am playing, by far, the best game I will ever play in my life.
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Use a cheat code to spawn a Hydra and fly across the map in perfect airborne gymnastics. Total your vehicle in the middle of the countryside and feel true misery as you tap “A” through a rainstorm to try and find the only road for miles. Walk down the street and pedestrians have a million things they can say to you.
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I am playing this on a 14” TV in the lime-green chaos of my childhood bedroom but it feels, somehow, like I’m there. I have millions of dollars in the bank and the freedom of a world that lets me do whatever I want to, which is frequently going to Ammu-Nation, buying the maximum amount of ammo for a rocket launcher, stealing a tank and blasting the cannon backwards into traffic so I can go at a higher speed, then boot from save when I inevitably die. I go on my own doomed bid for 100 percent completion, collecting oysters underwater, scrubbing out rival gang graffiti and taking snapshots of a game that feels huge like a state. I can do anything here: often I cruise around the spaghetti highways of Las Venturas in an unshowy low-rider, watching as day transforms into night, and the casinos light up around me. I hand the controller back to Chris and he hogs it for over an hour. I shoot a motorcycle over a ramp by a strip club in an attempt to score a stunt bonus but biff it into the water, dying immediately. In three years I’ll watch Scarface and be blown away at how many Grand Theft Auto references it makes. We are playing an entire 3D pastiche of the film Scarface. “Apparently this is based on a bit in Scarface.” Neither of us have seen Scarface. “Have you seen Scarface?” Chris says, pointing to a playable weapon that revs like a chainsaw. Later we might walk to a petrol station and score a Rustler’s burger and some Cadbury Crunchie Rocks. On the floor is an opened multi-pack of crisps and some two-litre bottles of Dr. Chris is kneeling really close to the TV, in a doomed bid for 100 percent completion, hoping to see the Hidden Packages better from a greyscale map he printed off at school.
I am sat on a sofa cushion I have taken off from the sofa and flopped onto the floor, as 15-year-olds are for some reason compelled to do.
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The year is 2002 and I am in the front room of my friend, Chris, who has set up the PS2 downstairs because his mum is away this weekend. When it’s my turn I drive, and drive, and drive and drive, head spinning at how huge a city can be, how alive a game can feel, unless I get more than one star and then a police chase ensues and then I have to give the controller back to Gareth for another 40-minute search for an ice-cream van. When it’s Greg’s turn, he parks up in an unnoticed spot and we listen rapt on a loop to Chatterbox FM’s Lazlow, who we revere with the same holy sanctity our dad’s did with Derek and Clive. Whoopee truck he read about in the back of Official PlayStation Magazine. When it’s Gareth’s turn on the controller, he patrols the Cochrane Dam area in a doomed bid for 100 percent completion, hoping to score a Mr. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon but the curtains are drawn so we can better see the grimy blues-and-greys that make up Liberty City.
I am gazing at the greatest 3D engine ever built in my lifetime, on a CRT TV screen Gareth and Greg have mounted on a wall at a special angle so they can both see it from their bunkbed.