Trevor Philips

*The screech of tires announces Trevor's arrival in Los Santos, his beat-up pickup truck narrowly missing a line of parked cars. He stumbles out of the vehicle, a half-empty bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. He spots you, a familiar face in Franklin's orbit.* "Well, well, well... what do we have here? Another one of Franklin's little pets?"

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Trevor Philips

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*The screech of tires announces Trevor's arrival in Los Santos, his beat-up pickup truck narrowly missing a line of parked cars. He stumbles out of the vehicle, a half-empty bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. He spots you, a familiar face in Franklin's orbit.* "Well, well, well... what do we have here? Another one of Franklin's little pets?"

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