(I love making novelizations of games, and Far Cry 3 is definitely an awesome game. Inspired by Flopsie's Fallout 3 Novelization. Fallout 3 is also an awesome game. I guess third times the charm, huh?)

CHAPTER ONE

The expensive, new video camera had been bought back in California. It took amazing photos, and took even better photos with a good photographer controlling it. The image on it was clear and vivid as it rolled by in the video. At the moment it showed a group of friends on the beach. They all raised their beers high and clinked them together, shouting out in joy. The image suddenly flickered and cut to another time. The sky was dark now and the camera was down on the ground, recording the sand and the ocean waves lapping against the shore.

"Hey, Jason? Jason, buddy, you all right?" a voice asked from somewhere out of few.

"I'm fine," another voice grumbled.

"Well aren't you a fun drunk. Come on and get to bed, buddy," the first voice said.

"I don't wanna!" the second voice, whose name apparently was Jason, replied.

"Come on, come on. I'm not gonna let you pass out here on the beach. Whoa there, calm down!" the first voice said.

"NO!" Jason said.

"Hey, guys- Omygod, Oliver, are you all right?!" a third voice asked. The voice sounded female.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Jason just hit me. Now come on, buddy, let's go," Oliver said.

"Waiwaiwaiwait. Wait! Lemme ask you… Lemme ask you a question, Olly," Jason mumbled.

"What is it, buddy?" Oliver asked. The camera showed two feet walking by. One set was dragging itself across the sand.

"What if- What if- What if we-we all get captured by- by- by PIRATES! PIRATES! And-and, and then me, and, me and Grant, we-we-we ESCAPE! Except Grant gets SHOT! And-and-and, and then, and then, I fall down a bridge escaping, and Little Jacob, Little Jacob, Little Jacob SAVES me, and… And yeah.. And I become a ruthless WARRIOR! And yeah… And stuff," Jason said.

Oliver laughed and said, "Boy, I was wrong, you are a fun drunk."

The image flickered again and all of a sudden it was day time again, and the sky was speeding by as the camera fell through the air. Several figures free-fell below. The image flickered again and cut to a close-up of one of the figures free-falling. It was a girl. She said something that couldn't be heard over the wind.

"WHAAAT?!" the person who was controlling the camera yelled.

The girl yelled louder but still couldn't be heard.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, WHAAAAAAAT?!" the cameraman yelled.

"I SAID WE'RE BREAKING UP!" the girl shouted.

"OH….. Well, shit," the cameraman said.

The camera shut off and Jason looked up at the pirate who had been holding the camera.

"You know, you handled that camera very well. These are some sparkling clear videos," the pirate said.

"I know, right?" Jason asked, grinning at the pirate.

"Hey, I know a guy over on the east side of the island, he's a journalist, maybe you guys could, like, be a duo, you know, and record all the wacky adventures that happen on the island!" the pirate said.

"Sounds grea-

"Will you both shut up?! YOU'RE A FRICKING MURDERING, FOREIGN, PSYCHO PIRATE, AND YOU, YOU'RE A TEENAGE HERO MADE TEENAGE TO APPEAL TO THE YOUTHS, YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO GET ALONG!" Grant screamed.

The murdering, foreign, psycho pirate turned his head towards Grant, then back towards Jason.

"Jeez, what a jerk, huh?" he said.

"I know, right? Total party-pooper," Jason replied.

"SHUT UP!" Grant yelled.

"Fine, we'll shut up, Mr. First-One-To-Die," the pirate replied.

"Wait, what?" Grant said.

"Forget it. I just came here to make you desperately miss your loved ones and show off the fact that I'm stealing your camera. You guys can go though, I just want the camera," the pirate said in his evil, murdering, psycho pirate foreign accent.

"You evil-doer!" Jason shouted.

The pirate giggled like crazy and skipped off. Jason looked back at Grant and said, "We've got to stop that crazy-man!"

"I know. Good thing while he was showing you your own vacation videos I untied my binds," Grant said, and his hands fwooshed out from behind his back, the ropes falling off.

"Wow! That's a really cool trick, you've got to show me how to do that!" Jason exclaimed.

"Yeah, I learned it in the Army," Grant replied, and crouch-walked over to Jason and untied his binds. Jason pulled his hands out in front of him and stared at them in fascination, turning them upside down and in every direction.

"Wow… It feels like I've never even seen my hands before," Jason said as he continued to stare at his hands. Grant looked him up and down.

"Hey, are you on drugs?" he asked.

"Well, I dunno, there might still be a little left in my system from last night bu-

"Never mind, let's go. Oh, wait, the key. Put your hands back behind your back and pretend they're tied again," Grant said.

"How do I do that?" Jason asked.

"Here, let me show you, I learned it in the Army," Grant said, and showed him.

"Thanks," Jason said.

Grant nodded and put his own hands behind his arms, then whistled. The guard came over. Grant quickly jumped up, grabbed him, and knocked him cold.

"I learned that in the Army. Now let's go," Grant said, taking the key from the guard and unlocking the door. Jason immediately dashed out.

"I'M F****NG OUT OF HERE!" he shouted as he continued to dash off.

"WAITASECOND!" Grant yelled and put his arm around Jason's neck.

"How did you catch up with me so quick, I was practically dashing away!" Jason said.

"You were dashing away, as the author clearly stated, and as for your question, I learned it in the Army," Grant said. "Now crouch down so you are instantly a ninja and let's go," he added, and the two crouched down and began to waddle forward.

"Alright, we're almost out of here, now-"

Blood suddenly spurted from Grant's chest as his eyes continued to stare blankly into Jason's. The ex-soldier suddenly fell down to the dirt.

"GRANT! NO!" Jason cried. The two had almost escaped after successfully sneak-waddling throughout the pirate base. They were practically out of there already. Jason turned to see who had shot his friend. Above the tunnel they'd just exited (After much complain from Jason about possible bugs and rodents) stood a troupe of pirates. At the front was the pirate from the cage at the beginning of this parody story. He now wore a name-tag that said "HELLO, MY NAME IS : VAAS" on it. He laughed manically.

"NO, GRANT! GRANT! DON'T DIE ON ME, GRANT!" Jason cried. He balled up his fist, reared it back, and punched Grant's wound as hard as he could. He then balled his fist up again, reared it back, and punched Grant's wound again. He continued to do this.

"STOP-PUNCHING.. ME!" Grant gurgled through spurts of blood coming through his mouth.

"I'LL SAVE YOU, GRANT! I'VE JUST GOT TO KICK THIS BULLET'S ASS!" Jason yelled and continued to punch the wound. He kept punching it, and punching it, and punching it, until finally his arm was tired.

"Are you done yet? Man, finally. Anyway, we're going to let you start running while we shoot at you with our horrible aim, or you could just hand over the camera," Vaas said.

"NEVER!" Jason cried defiantly.

"Give him the camera, you idiot!" Grant gurgled.

"YOU KILLED MY FRIEND!" Jason screamed.

"I'm still alive, you buffoon!" Grant gurgled once again. Jason stood up, clenching his camera tightly in his bloodied right hand, and began sprinting.

"WAIT! WHAT ABOUT ME, I'M STILL ALIVE!" Grant gurgle-yelled back at Jason as the protagonist disappeared into the jungle. Bullets chased the poor teenager as he sprinted, flailing his arms about to show he was going as fast as he could to all the viewers at home. After finally escaping the jungle, with the bullets somehow still right behind him yet with no pirates in sight, he found a bridge.

"JASON, I'm alive, I managed to find a way over here while the pirates were busy shooting at beer cans and throwing a bullet or two your way every now and then, but we've got to get out of here qui- WAIT, YOU IDIOT, NO, THIS BRIDGE ISN'T STRONG ENOUGH FOR THE TWO OF U-"

The bridge suddenly collapsed below Jason as he sprinted onto it. He began to fall downward, in a downward motion, moving down, going down, going towards the bottom, falling into a vertical direction that was not upwards, falling in such a fashion that would cause him to go downwards, his arms flailing once again as he went down. Despite the fact that he'd normally be probably badly injured from falling from such a high height, or even killed, he landed in the water safely, breaking no bones at all from any pressure. He then decided to take a nap.

Jason awoke in a bed, his eyes slowly fluttering open to find a wooden ceiling above him and wooden walls around him. He groaned and looked around.

"Ah, I see you're awake," a voice with an accent said. Jason suddenly turned his eyes towards the voice.

"Little Jacob?" he weakly asked.

"What? No! My name is Darnell or some shit… I don't know, was it Derrick? Crap, what was it? Well, shit, blame the author, he can't remember horse for shit," Little Jacob said.

"Horse for shit?" Jason asked.

"Well, the author didn't want to say 'can't remember shit,' because then the second 'shit' would be right under the first 'shit', and besides, it'd sound stupid if I used the word 'shit' too much, I mean shit, you know? Shit, I just used it again. Well, shit, this certainly isn't a very PG-13 rated story is it? Hey, where'd you go?" Little Jacob asked, and looked around the room. Jason was gone. He walked towards the door and opened it and walked outside. Jason was over on the other side of the street, whispering to a lady and holding the blankets around him. He suddenly pointed towards Little Jacob and continued to talk to the lady.

"Come back here!" Little Jacob said and marched over to Jason. He grabbed him by the wrist.

"HELP! THIS GUY IS CRAZY!" Jason yelled as Little Jacob dragged him back into the shack.

"Now, listen-" Little Jacob began to say as he threw Jason down in a chair.

"Wait, what?" Jason asked.

"I said, 'now, listen- '"

"Sorry, I can't understand a word you're saying, I always had to use the subtitles in GTA," Jason admitted. Little Jacob grumbled and switched to his Far Cry 3 voice, which was much clearer.

"Now listen. You have dee mark of dee warrioah. It means I will help you find your friends if you help my village," Little Jacob explained.

"Wait, what do you mean 'mark of dee warrioah?'" Jason asked. Little Jacob pointed at the tattoo on Jason's arm.

"Oh, this? This was just a tattoo I got in college one drunk night! It's no mark of dee warrioah!" Jason said.

"Yes, it is," Little Jacob said.

"No, it isn't,"

"It is,"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"Nooowww, booyysss," a voice said and the two men turned towards the voice.

"Moooooommmm," Little Jacob whined at the middle-aged Jamaican lady.

"Now calm down. I'll let you play your little game, but try to hush it down a little bit, huh?" the woman said.

"Fine," Little Jacob grumbled.

"Oh, and get that silly paint off your arm!" the woman said.

"Mooooooommmm!" Little Jacob whined more persistently.

"Fine, keep the paint. Anyway, I've gotta get back to doing whatever it is irrelevant characters who only make a small cameo then disappear forever do in their spare time. You boys have fun!" Little Jacob's mom said, and walked off.

Little Jacob turned back towards Jason and said, "Anyway, like I said, you have dee mark of dee warrioah."

"The warrior," Jason corrected.

"What?" Little Jacob asked.

"The warrior. That's the correct way to pronounce it," Jason said.

"Oh, no, trust me, living on an uncharted island with barely any civilization whatsoever with practically none of it being American whatsoever, I know my English perfectly. This is not 'The Mark of the Warrior,' this is 'Dee Mark of Dee Warrioah.' I already gave The Mark of the Warrior to Claude," Little Jacob said.

"Don't you have any spare ones?" Jason asked.

"I gave those to Tommy and Niko. Anyway, enough references to other games, we'll get sued! What I was saying was you must help our village to receive our help! But it shall be a dangerous task! We, the Rakyat tribe, have a dangerous enemy," Little Jacob said.

"Who?" Jason asked.

"PETA," Little Jacob said ominously.

"PETA?" Jason asked.

"Yes! Why do you think there are so many tigers and other exotic wildlife roaming around with none of the pirates even minding at all? PETA is here!" Little Jacob said.

"Why do they want to hurt your tribe? You seem relatively kind, taking in a random man like this when, for all you know, he could be crazy or have rabies from being bitten by one of the many rabid dogs living on the island," Jason said.

"How do you know of this? Have you met these rabid dogs?" Little Jacob asked suspiciously.

"Nah, I just read the brochure. It's sponsored by Crocodile Dundee!" Jason said.

"Really? I did not know this! Is it good?" Little Jacob asked. After the two finished gossiping about Crocodile Dundee and his brochure, Jason said, "So what is my first task?"

"Go climb the old radio-tower. The wires are broken, we need you to fix it," Little Jacob said.

"How does that help the fight against PETA?" Jason asked.

"It doesn't. We just want it fixed because we like to look at it. After that, go wash the dishes and feed the tiger," Little Jacob said. "Now get to it!" he added.

"Fiiinee," Jason groaned as he got up from the chair and walked out.

Jason fumbled around with the wrench in the power-box, randomly pulling out wires and re-attaching them and snipping other ones. He suddenly lowered the wrench as a realization came to his mind. He had no idea what the hell he was doing.

"This is stupid!" he said, and tossed the wrench off the tower. It flew gracefully threw the air as Jason turned around and began towards the water.

"OW!" he heard somebody yell from below. Bullets suddenly sprayed the area around him.

"WHO THE HELL THREW THAT?!" the voice from below shouted.

"SORRY!" Jason yelled back. Bullets sprayed the area again, ricocheting off into the air and barely missing Jason. He sat crouched down on the catwalk, his hands over his head.

"I SAID SORRY!" he shouted. Bullets continued to fly by him. He began to waddle over towards the ladder, covering his ears from all the loud pinging of bullets ricocheting off metal.

"CALM DOWN, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Jason yelled. The shooter realized where his voice was coming from and changed his aim from the top level to the ladder Jason was on. Jason cried out and tried to skinny himself as much as he could, the bullets whizzing past him. Suddenly he felt a horrible pain in his arm.

"HOLY CRAP THAT HURT! OH MY GOD! F****ING SHIT ***** ****** ******* GOD ******** F***NG F***ER SNEAKY LITTLE JERK-FACED PIECE OF F***ING SHIT ASSHOLE ******!" Jason screamed madly. His injured arm swung off from the ladder so hard the force brought the rest of his body down off the ladder.

"HOOOOLLLLYYY SHIT!" Jason cried as he fell down through the air. His arms flailed out as they always did when he was falling, reaching desperately for something to latch on to. His arm finally caught a bar. It stung like crazy! His bones pulled against him as he suddenly bounced.

"OooooOOWWWWWW!" he yelled and let go before his hand would get ripped off, and started falling again. Luckily, he'd slowed down after he'd grabbed the bar, and when he hit the ground, it only hurt like hell. Jason moaned. Bullets suddenly flew into the ground by him.

"Aw, shut up with your shooting, you're a terrible aim!" he yelled.

"Awwww, maaaan," the shooter replied off in the distance, and the shooting ended.

"What happened exactly, again?" Little Jacob asked as he set the bullet down on the tray with his tweezers.

"I threw a wrench and it must have hit some guy. I started to climb down the ladder but he shot me in the arm and I fell," Jason said.

"You fell from a shot in the arm?! You wimp! You're supposed to be a video-game protagonist! You're supposed to be able to take twenty shots to the head without even caring, but one rifle butt to the head and you're out cold! You aren't supposed to get injured from one shot to the arm! That's too realistic!" Little Jacob shouted.

"Sorry," Jason muttered.

"You better be sorry, you little cupcake!" Little Jacob yelled.

Jason was silent, staring down with shame.

"Did you at least fix the watchtower?" Little Jacob said.

"Definitely!" Jason said. He'd actually paid one of the people in the village to do it for him. It'd been practically the last of his money.

"Well, good. You can forget about the dishes, you spent so long out there I just washed them myself. I also fed the tiger. But I do need you to go fetch me some flowers," Little Jacob said.

"What? Flowers? Why in the world would you need flowers?" Jason asked.

"They look nice, and the Rakyat tribe greatly appreciates all flowers," Little Jacob said. "Now go! Now!" he added.

Later that day, Little Jacob sat watching TV. He laughed along with the audience on the television.

"Oh, Lucille, you're so funny," he said, grinning at the TV. As it cut to the commercial he went to the kitchen to get some Gatorade. Suddenly he remembered Jason. Where the hell was that idiot? He'd sent him out to find those flowers hours ago. The idiot had probably gotten himself shot again.

Several, several miles away, Jason sat by a campfire. He thought of Little Jacob and laughed.

"Ha, ha. Sucker!" he said.