Nightclub Management

At the end of the day, nothing beats a bit of physical marketing. You're going to do it old school and put fly-posters up around the city. Get to work.

Okay, well, I guess we got to so some marketing. Instead of handing out flyers on Vinewood Boulevard, I want to airdropping them over the city. There's a chopper waiting ready to take off. Your flyers are on board.

Alright, three long decades in this business and one thing is still true: nightclubs run on booze. And no matter how much we charge, the cheaper we can get it, the better. Bring in the shipment of champagne I've located, and I'll make sure we got people here to drink it.

Great. Do I have a job for you. Crowds can smell if a club isn't right, and right now, our club isn't right. We've been robbed for a truck of booze. Get it and we can get back to running this place properly.

So... here's what we're gonna do. For once in our lives, we're going to refuse to be gentrifiers. Some property developers are trying to piggy back off of what we're doing here... to open up mini-malls, or something. Run them off and get us some edge back.

Okay, let's try and get the buzz back in this place. You know, my momma always said, "Want to catch some flies, you need a pile of shit." Collect some pieces of shit rich folks for us, bring them to the club, and all the flies will follow.

Okay, we need to do something big, something theatrical, something Vinewood, baby. We're promoting our DJ on the side of a blimp. Pick it up and fly it over the city. Everyone will know what's going on here.

Okay, we're losing customers to Bahama Mamas when we beat them on music, atmosphere, and general insanity. Take out those idiots' supply trucks and let's see if our customers don't come back here.

Look, I got nothing against recreational drug use. For a long period of my life, that was my number one recreational activity! But when we have a bunch of shady guys round town marketing themselves as our official suppliers, we got an image problem... and that, my friend. is the only kind of problem that matters. I got Yohan tracking down their distributor. In the meantime, go clean 'em up. Our patrons are just going to have to us an app and get it couriered in.

Fucking paparazzi, am I right? You know, there was a time in the 90's when I couldn't slip into the men's room without some fucking mouth-breather with a telephoto lens lying in wait for me. So when I get a call from one of out most valuable patrons saying she's being harassed by some freakshow with social media account calling himself an investigative journalist, I see red. Yohan cooked up a virus that'll torch his hard drive and any cloud backups of the photos. Here's his address. Go deliver it.

Heya, yeah, so, I kinda promised Tony I'd get some famous people in, but... no one's answering my texts. We're not cool enough, alright? We've got to make do with a couple of D-list influencers for now. Go pick 'em up, bring 'em in, and, you know, hopefully the celebrities will follow.

Yo, I've got you a VIP to collect, bit of a celebrity actually, Total friend of mine. Poppy Mitchell. She hasn't actually said where she is, and... I'm kinda blocked on her Bleeter, but... I think we can figure it out from her Snapmatic profile.

Okay, okay, you want famous? I've got not one, but two of my best celebrity friends coming in tonight. Miranda Cowan and her assistant. Get out there and collect them as soon as possible... they may seem angry and impatient and greedy, but... that just means they like you.

Oh, hey, you want to get some celebs in here, this might be our chance. Got a little tip that Lacey Jonas is in the back of a police wagon. Who knows what she did this time... if we can get her out of there, she's probably so doped up on painkillers, she'll think she was on the way to the club already. Go get here while the opportunity's there.

Alright mate. You know how particular Dixon is about the way things sound. He wants some new equipment for the club. You got a minute to run off and get it for him? Okay, okay. AKAN Records is where to go. Take one of their vans and bring it to the club.

Alright there? Dixon wants some folks brought into Los Santos to see him play. What do you think about flying out and bringing them in, eh? He'd appreciate it no end. Alright then. Go get the chopper and pick 'em up.

It's your old pal Dave. Yeah, some twats did a bunk with Dicko's records. Proper rare shit, too. You know what a wonk he is. Can you get 'em back to the club for us? Alright, well, they're at some yacht party in the middle of the drink. Might get heavy out there, so look out. You come through, Dixon won't forget this.

Hey, you got a second? Some of Black Madonna's people are being held up in the city. She'd sort it, only she's been DJing like a maniac. You think you can handle this? Very nice. This is where you're going. Grab them, save the day. And no friendly fire, please. I don't wanna tell The BM you shot her friends instead of saving 'em.

Hey boss, looks like one of our high value clients had a little too much fun. They're passed out in the VIP. This one might need the manager's touch, if you wanna help them out.

The player can find a problematic patron somewhere in the Nightclub, such as the loading bay, the restroom, off the dance floor, or at the lower bar.