Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?

By Aaron Gamemaster

A/N I think this will probably be a one-shot, even though at the end I will say "tune in next week", or MAYBE I'll make another.

The Millionaire tune in the background, the camera comes up to the stage, where two seats and computers occupy the area. Lazlow is walking up the stage.

"Welcome to who wants to be a Millionaire. I am your new host, Lazlow! Today we have 3 contestants, Tommy Vercetti, Carl Johnson, and Claude Speed.

"First up is Tommy Vercetti, a familiar face in Vice City. Tommy was born in--"

"Shut up! Get to the questions! We have limited time you ass!" An anonymous voice range out.

"Mom?" Lazlow asked. No response. "Okay… so… let's get TV up here!"

Tommy stomped onto the stage. "Do NOT call me TV!"

"Hey, man, I'm sorry, didn't mean to offend you." Lazlow took a breath, so Tommy, tell me something about you."

"I hate you."

"Faire enough, I'm sure you know the rules," He took a breath. "You have to answer each question correctly to get to the next level, there are two milestones, at question five, and ten. After you pass a milestone, if you get a question wrong, you loose all of your current money, and get what money is available at the milestone question. 15 questions lead to the million dollars."

"Uhhh…" Tommy sighed. "I know the three lifelines, I GET IT! I've watched this show!"

"Okay, do you know about the FOUR lifelines?" Tommy shook his head. "Okay, once you get to question 10, you get a new lifeline, SWITCH THE QUESTION, it's pretty self-explanatory.

"Let's get started."

The lights dimmed, the music came on.

"For 100 dollars, from a dog food company, MAKE THAT


A- Bitch B-Whore C-Hoe D-Mom

"What you are. A bitch."

Lazlow made a face, "correct, now for 200 dollars: WHAT IS THE LONGEST TIME ANYONE FLEW A DODO IN LIBERTY CITY?"

A- 27 secs B- 40 secs c- 342 secs d- 765 secs

"Hey, Dumbass, I flew back to Liberty city a month ago, I MADE THAT RECORD!" Tommy shouted.

"So… what is the answer?"

"D, final."

"Well, you seem to be clueless because the answer is C, Dumbass!" The audience awwwed.

Tommy looked at Lazlow with pure anger. Until Lazlow figure out what he had said, to Tommy Vercetti, he just sat there and kept laughing. Then he looked at Tommy.

Tommy jumped up, punching the table, almost making it break. "DAMN!"

Tommy grabbed the chair he was on, pulling it up, he swung it towards Lazlow's face, smashing it into the ground

Tommy smacked him, over, and over, and over, breaking Lazlow's bones, in his ribs, his arms, but Tommy was going to let him live, to suffer.

Lazlow screamed out in pain, with every single blow.

The audience sat there laughing, pointing. The security stood by, watching the fight, drinking punch and doughnuts.

"Hehe, hey look. Someone is fighting someone else in the game room." A chubby black security guards said.

"Poor fuck, that's Tommy Vercetti."

Minutes passed, Lazlow was wounded badly. He lay in a large puddle of blood over the glass floors, barley able to stand up.

"Lazlow, we can't afford an ambulance! Get up and finish the show!" the producer yelled.

Lazlow crawled to his chair. The next contestant came in. Lazlow could barely talk. "N-next up, w-w-we have, Ca-C-Car, CJ."

CJ walked up, all fat and chubby (no offense CJ fans).

He picked up his chair, and sat it down. "Sup?"

Lazlow didn't answer. "Q-es-tion, one." He continued, "for 100 dollars: HOW MANY AIRPORTS ARE THERE IN SAN ANDREAS?"

A-1 B-2 C-3 D-4?

"I'll take, c, final." CJ announced.



A- stunt plane B- At 400 C- Hydra D- Nevada

"That's At 400- for sure."



A- V-rock B- WCTR C-Chatterbox 109 D-All of the above.

"Hey, Lazlow, what radio station have you worked at?" CJ asked.

"I ww-orked at… V-rock, Chatterbox, and WCTR."


Oh, shit, they are all on there! What one do I pick? DAMN it! I'll go with… the first one he said, V-Rock.

"A, V-rock. Final answer."


"WHAT?" CJ was amazed. He was going to shoot Lazlow, but he decided not to. He got up and walked away. With 0 dollars.

"N-n-n-n-n-ow. Claude. Come up here!" Lazlow ordered.

Claude came walking up in his usual leather jacket and green pants. He sat down.

"Okay, question 1: WHAT IS-"

Claude used sign language, "B, final"

"Correct! For 200: WHERE-"

"B- Los Santos, final"

"WOW! That's the second… ti-me I didn't even finish questioning you! WOW!"

"For 300-" And it continued like this until the 500,000 dollar question, Claude had not used any of his lifelines. But now he was stumped.

"For 500,000 dollars: WHEN WAS GANT BRIDGE BUILT?"

A- 1929, B-1340, C-1959, D-1980

Ten minutes passed, and Claude was stumped. He decided to use the "ASK THE AUDIENCE lifeline."

A few second passed.

A-0 percent, B-0 percent, C- 0 percent D- 100 percent

AOL audience

A- 25 percent, B-25 percent C-25 percent D-25 percent

Oh shit, you have GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. Claude used his 50/50. The two answers left were: A and D.

Claude went with D.

"Sorry, Claude that is incorrect! You walk away with 32 thousand dollars!"

It was still a lot of money. But! Claude was angry. The entire audience was wrong. He pulled out a 9mm, and shot Lazlow in the stomach. He took out a few grenades and an M16, and started shooting the audience it was a blood bath.

The credits started rolling, and the producer said "Be sure to tune in next week!"