Grand Theft Auto: Vice City (Rewrite)

Chapter 68: Boomshine Saigon

Evening had finally fallen, and Tommy walked outside of Phil's place to find the gun runner at the table working on a boomshine.

"Hey Phil, how's it goin?" Tommy asked, approaching Phil.

The fumes of the boomshine permeated around his face, and he tried to fan them away.

"Heeyyyy, Tommy!" Phil cheered in a noticeably drunken tone. "Howyadoin'? Ish been too long... "

"I swear you should lay off that boomshine, man," Tommy told him, squinting his eyes and fanning the fumes out of his face. "Smells like paint stripper. Making my eyes burn... "

Phil then took the green detonator with him and guided Tommy, now staggering a bit himself from the fumes, to a large crate Phil was using for cover.

"Shshs shhh youshelf Tommy," Phil told him, showing and bringing him to the large crate, "and come over here because there's someshin' I wanna show you... someshin."

Tommy was starting to feel rather lightheaded. "Woof!" he moaned, fanning the fumes out of his face as he squinted his eyes some more. "God! Should I be able to smell that from way over here? I'm feeling woozy."

"Don'tchaworry about the shmell Tommy," Phil claimed, slurring his words. "You jush wash thish."

Phil clicked on the detonator as Tommy ducked behind the large crate. But strangely, nothing happened. Phil clicked on the button five more times. Still no luck.

Phil scratched his hair, wondering what was going on. "Shittycheapbatteriesh or shumin'" Phil muttered incoherently as he staggered from behind the crate. "There'sh shum more on the bench."

Phil made it to the boomshine on top of the crate for batteries. He took the old ones out of the detonator and grabbed some new ones. After changing the batteries, Phil decided to celebrate his success.

"TA-DAAA!" he cheered, throwing his arms up in celebration.

Unfortunately for him, he impetuously clicked on the button of the detonator, causing the boomshine to explode, and Phil was partially caught in it as well

"Aww Damn!" Phil muttered surprisingly with little reaction.

Because Phil had just blown off his left arm through the explosion and fell to his knees right before falling over while laughing at his injury. He was so drunk he couldn't feel any pain.

Ironically, the same was not said of Tommy, as the massive explosion caused the fumes from the boomshine to permeate around the area, and Tommy got caught in it, causing his brain to be impaired and severe intoxication.

Everything around Tommy was very blurry. He couldn't walk straight. His vision was impaired, and all he saw was gray blurs.

Tommy barely staggered over to Phil and dragged him to a nearby Patriot, which took about two minutes to get to. Tommy opened the back door and put Phil inside the back of the vehicle. He shut the door and slowly staggered to the driver's seat, starting the engine and driving out of the area.

Because Tommy's vision was impaired, he couldn't see straight, and he couldn't drive properly. Phil was heard moaning in the back seat, and Tommy had to be careful not to crash into anything, otherwise, Phil's injury could exacerbate.

"Watch out! Charlie in the tree line!" Phil muttered, still in a drunken stage.

Tommy drove straight, barely staying on the road as he swayed back and forth. He made a right turn and drove down the long road, swerving back and forth as he struggled to stay on the road. His brain was swelling like a sponge. He could barely concentrate on the road.

"Is it me or are the roads made of jelly?" Phil asked randomly.

Tommy was really struggling to reach the hospital, but after a while, he finally was able to pull up front of the West Haven Community Healthcare Center.

"Not the hospital, man!" Phil warned all of a sudden. "Too many cops and Viet Cong! There's an ex-army surgeon owes me a few favors and a lawnmower. He's got a place down Little Havana - ooo look, a giant fish!"

Tommy groaned. He was already intoxicated from the boomshine fumes, and now Phil was asking him to go somewhere else.

Tommy could feel his brain floating like a spoon in the dishwater of the sink. He felt as if he was walking inside a radioactive toxic storage. His vision was far too blurry to keep his eyes on the road as he continued driving.

Tommy barely made a right turn on Little Havana and kept the vehicle he was driving in barely steady.

"Spooney Wooney Woo Woo Woooo!" Phil blurted out randomly.

Tommy was far too intoxicated to groan at this point. He just continued driving through Little Havana and finally made it to the spot.

Phil hopped out of the vehicle and slowly staggered through the alleyway to the surgeon's place. "It's beautiful, man... " Phil muttered, staggering through the alleyway to the surgeon's place, "it's beautiful... but so cold... "

Tommy sighed as he watch Phil continue walking. He finally got Phil to a doctor, that was the good news. Unfortunately for Tommy, the bad news was that he still had to drive all the way back to the mansion while intoxicated.

So with his vision still impaired, Tommy continued driving around the road, barely keeping the vehicle onto the road. He was surrounded by blurs of orange and yellow. It was as if he was walking right into the blazing sunlight.

He struggled to make a right turn on the long road out of the city and another left up ahead to the bridge leading to Starfish Island. He had to hold on. He was getting closer to the Vancetti Estate. He finally made a right turn on the road leading to the driveway and parked in front of the garage.

Tommy finally hopped out and heard his cellphone ring. He pulled it out to answer it.

"Tommy, it's Phil," he heard Phil answer through the phone. "I want to thank you for helping me out back there, son."

"No problem, Phil," Tommy replied. "After all, I was under the influence after this plight."

Phil just chuckled. "Yeah, sorry about that," he told him. "Damn Charlie. He'll always ambush you somewhere or other. Anyway, the wound is healing well, and it means I'll no longer be defrauding the government on my disability check."

"That's great to here, Phil," Tommy replied, his eyes still blurry. "Just get some rest and I'll be sure your place doesn't get raided into."

Tommy then hung up the phone and staggered inside the mansion. He still was feeling intoxicated and could barely walk up the stairs. Tommy finally made it inside his bedroom to the left and changed out of his clothes, wearing a wife beater and black boxers. He plopped onto the mattress and fell fast asleep.