Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories (Rewrite)

Chapter 12: Boomshine Blowout

As Vic walked through the street, he saw that the sun was on its way to set. The sky was now a bright orange and red shade, and the neon lights on some of the buildings began to ignite. The city was a beautiful evening scenery. Vic felt the cool, steady breeze around his face. It was a rather peaceful walk for him, except for the running vehicles on the road.

Vic finally made it back to Phil's Depot in Viceport and searched for the arms dealer inside the building. He finally found him lying on the floor for some reason. Vic just stared back in confusion.

"Phil, what's going on?" Vic asked him. "You're a mess."

"I'm not drunk," Phil muttered, lying on his stomach. "I'm just resting my eyes."

"Okay... so, what's going on?" Vic asked Phil.

Phil let out a random belch. "My boomshine's about to get blown sky high by a bunch of angry scumbags," he uttered, barely sounding coherent.

"What?" Vic asked, still confused.

"Them Cholos are gonna blow up my liquor," Phil answered as he turned his head up to face Vic. "There's so much of it at the warehouse one match'll blow it all the way to Tennessee. Tennessee, here I come..."

"Phil - Come on," Vic told him, crouching besides him. "Let's deal with it."

Phil then rolled over onto his back. "The thing is, Vicky boy, my daddy was an angry man," he continued. "He never, ever told me I was special. In fact - he used to beat me. Especially when he caught me staring at my cousin or my sister. You know what he said to me? He said I'd be better off dead... "

"And how exactly is this helping?" Vic asked.

"The tragedy of it is, I'm just like him," Phil answered, barely getting onto his knees. "I'm a drunk. I deserve to die! It should have been me instead of Zack on hill 491 man."

He struggled to catch his breath as he stuck his chest out while onto his knees. "I'm coming home, daddy!" Phil yelled at the tip top of his lungs. "Yeah daddy! I'm coming home!"

He began to laugh maniacally and fell back onto his back. Vic watched as the former started to slow down to catch his breath once again.

"You're pathetic," Vic muttered bluntly, and he began to walk out of the building.

Lord, please help this man, Vic thought. Be with this drunken fool before he gets himself killed.

Later on, Phil had barely staggered to his Walton and told Vic to head to the Big Package Storage Company warehouse in Little Havana because he was too drunk to drive, Phil had Vic take the wheel for him instead, and the latter drove through the road to head to the storage.

Vic was starting to worry about Phil at the moment. He seemed to be feeling drunk all day, and just listening about his backstory just made him feel more sympathy for the guy.

Vic drove straight down the road and made a left turn on Little Havana. He drove straight down the road until he made a left turn on the side of the Big Package Storage Company warehouse. He parked the vehicle in the back, and Phil hopped out to inspect the storage. He noticed the door was slightly opened.

"I could have sworn I locked this place up," Phil pondered.

"Phil!" Vic warned frantically. "Don't open the... "

But before Phil had any time to react, a tremendous explosion precipitated inside the warehouse, sending Phil flying about two feet backwards.

"DADDDDDDDDY!" Phil bellowed. "DADDYDADDYDADDY!"

Phil slowly climbed back onto his feet to see that the boomshine in the warehouse was now on fire. "Scheming Cholo bastards booby-trapped my place!" he growled. "Ain't no use running... When that boomshine blows, we're all gonna die!"

"Get a grip!" Vic told him. "I'll get your damn liquor!"

"I'll back the truck up to the door," Phil told him. "You load her up."

So Vic walked inside the warehouse and looked around to find that everything was burning inside. He looked around a took a second to think.

How am I going to carry all this boomshine out of the warehouse before it explodes? he thought.

Vic then spotted a yellow forklift inside. So he hopped inside the forklift and accelerated. He used the forklift to grab one of the four crates of boomshine and lift it about two feet from the floor. He turned around and accelerated out the door to take the case to Phil's truck.

Unfortunately, the fire exacerbated, burning down a few more tiles of the warehouse. To make matters worse, the tiles had landed right in front of the other three boomshine cases, blocking the path. So Vic had to go around and navigate through the maze of crates around the warehouse. He barely made it to the other side and used the forklift to grab another one of the crates.

By the time Vic made it through the warehouse to deliver the crate to Phil's truck, another explosion precipitated, and more paths were being blocked. So Vic had to act fast and oriented around the warehouse to make his way to the last two sets of crates. Vic used the forklift to life one of them and slowly accelerated around the warehouse to return it to Phil's truck.

As the roof started to collapse, the warehouse was ready to blow, and Vic knew he didn't have time to hesitate. So without a single complaint, he rode the forklift around the warehouse. The fire started to spread wider, and Vic was beginning to sweat from the high temperature inside. As Vic finally made it to the end of the warehouse, he saw the final crate up ahead. Vic didn't say a word. He just accelerated and used the forklift to lift the crate off the floor. With the final crate, Vic rode through the dilapidated warehouse and finally made it to the exit, loading Phil's truck with the final crate.

Vic let out a relieving sigh as he hopped out of the forklift and exited the warehouse. Phil then rode inches away from the door, and the inside of the warehouse was swallowed with flames.

"I better put these babies in some place, huh?" Phil said.

"Yeah, sure," Vic answered.

He watched as Phil drove away. Vic began to walk away from the warehouse and through the corner. As he made it on the street of Little Havana, he heard his pager beeping. Vic took it off his belt to read the message. It was from Aunt Enid.

"Has your brother been in touch?" the message read. "He hasn't done his chores... again."

Man, Lance is such a lazy bastard, Vic thought.

He didn't have time to think about his brother though. He decided to see what Marty was up to and continued walking.