Were these really the enforcers Derren had promised to look out for the public interest? It was as hilarious as it was depressing. And then, with little more than a �fuck you and enjoy the rest of your day�, they exited by the same door they�d kicked to pieces and left him to wallow in the shit they�d left behind them. What they did do, however, was invent some trumped up charge about how he�d failed to co-operate with their investigation � the damage they had done, was on him, they said. Thankfully, they didn�t think to plant something. They found nothing incriminating � no guns, no drugs. Hell, the dude�s knuckles were wrapped up in bloody bandages � hardly the sign of your play-it-by-the-book enforcer. When the asshole said �sit,� Birth did exactly that. He was too busy being throttled by some lunatic wearing an old-fashioned fedora and flicking cigarette ash all over his floor. They never gave him the chance to cooperate either. Everything he valued: gone in sixty seconds. To punctuate the point, they totalled the place, wrecked most of his gear, trashed both his computers and the $2000 printer that he�d worked so hard for. In any case, they didn�t much like the look of his stuff. He never did find out exactly why they came to his studio.
Wrong � at least, according to a half dozen shit-kicking Praetorians. His tag, then, consisted of five simple letters: Birth. And he had the power to breathe new life into it. San Paro was as gray and lifeless as a corpse.
His style was undeniably G-King but that wasn�t really his intention he just liked color was all. Wasn�t long before he�d started making a name for himself, though. Harder still is having a known face to go with it, especially when all you really want to do is make cool art and watch interesting things happen.īack in the day, Birth started life as a graphics geek, cut his teeth designing flyers for a bunch of San Paro�s club spots.