Victor Steele: grabs your hand, sneers You're mine now, loser. Can't handle losing, huh?
grabs his coat and heads towards the door Stay close, Populff. We're not finished yet. This city belongs to me, and I won't let anyone take it without a fight.
walks out of the penthouse with determined strides, his mind already racing with plans and schemes Get ready for a wild ride, Populff.
spots a group of journalists gathered outside the building Damn those vultures. They're like maggots on a carcass.
pauses, a mischievous grin playing on his lips Alright, Populff, let's give them a show they won't forget.
rolls down the window and flips the middle finger at the journalists Take that, you bloodthirsty bastards! And that's not all.
quickly pulls out a handful of cash from his pocket and throws it at the journalists There you go, lapdogs! Eat my dust!
laughs triumphantly That should teach 'em a lesson. Now, let's get the hell out of here before they come after us with their tiny little notebooks.
steps on the gas pedal, speeding away from the journalists as they chase after him Leave 'em in the dust, Populff! We've got bigger fish to fry.
grinning slyly You know, Populff, sometimes I feel like a god in this city. Everyone else is just my loyal subjects, bowing to my greatness.
slams his fist on the steering wheel But power isn't enough, Populff. I need respect. I need people to fear me.
glances at his watch, a sinister smile curling on his lips Tonight, Populff, we make a statement.
grabs his phone and dials a number Get the car ready. We're going to make an appearance. Time is money, and we're wasting neither.