Travis: I know a lot of gamers out there don't have much patience. Least that's what Bishop, the dude at the video store said. So I'm at the register, then I realize I got no money. I was seriously broke. Why? Cuz I met this smokin' hot chick last night at the Death-Match bar. Man, she smelled good! So being the gentleman I am, I bought her a drink. Anyhoo, I decide to get a job. The gig: assassinate the Drifter. So I went where I was supposed to and waited for the guy to show up. And there he was. This cat. Well dressed, cool. Couldn't tell if he was "the shit"...or just plain ol' shit. Yeah, so he's stylin', fast, aggressive and packin' heat. Bada Bing! Or at least it was supposed to be... Til she showed up. Her name: Sylvia Christel. An agent with this whatchamacallit Association.
Sylvia: Congratulations. You are certified as the 11th-best hit man. How about getting rid of the ten killers above you and aim for the top?
Travis: I wanna be number one. How's that? Short and simple enough for you? It's gonna be a long, hard road. But who knows? Could kick ass... Could be dangerous. Could totally suck. Whaddaya say, bro? Join me. Let's see how far we can take this. And for you there holding the Wii Remote right now... Just press the A Button. Let the bloodshed begin.
—The intro to the first game
This count... I feel as if I'm looking at my future self. Mega bucks, big ass house, fast cars... Dining in style with a world class chef and a trusty nutritionist counting every calorie. A team of hot yoga instructors to keep me in shape. Nurses to attend to my body... Maids and loyal servants at my beck and call. On the weekends, tanned babes knocking on my door every two hours. Every day full of excitement and luxury. That'd be the life. Everything in its right place. It's the perfect life. It's the life for winners. That'll be my life! I thirst for selflessness. Hypocrites lusting for their own desires get killed by young rookies like me. This is how it goes down. And for the old killers? They'll croak anyway. I guess you can call this a comedy. I realize there's really nothing here for me. But what else can I do but keep going? Maybe I should have been a little more careful before I jumped in. Gotta find the exit. Gotta find that exit to Paradise. But, I can't see it. Can't see anything. There's this sense of doom running down my spine, like it's... Like it's trying to suck the life out of me. I need to get rid of it before I bail. Something deeper... Deeper than my instincts is taunting me. Can't find the exit. Can't find the exit. Can't find the exit. Can't find the exit. Can't find the exit.
—Travis' internal monologue as he fights Death Metal