ou always lived on the right side of the law. You paid your taxes, went to work or school each day and maybe you even walked little old ladies across the street. That was then. At some point it happens to everyone, and now it's happened to you — you're thirsty for mischief, you're bent on destruction and you're becoming Twisted. Dark city streets make up your new turf, and when you turn yourself loose to tear them up, there's no stopping you. You screech down the road in a fast-flying car built for destruction, weapons in hand, a mad glare in your eye. Morals? Conscience? Those seem laughable now — and reckless ransacking is just too much fun in this new Twisted world.