Ok Heres My Story that i'm writing. It's a grand theft auto related story that i'm currently working on. now just so you dont have to read all of it at once i'm going to post a little bit at a time. oh and it takes place in current time.


It was another warm night in Vice City. The sound of expensive sports cars echoed through the streets of Starfish Island, home of the rich and the famous. The night was fairly quiet for the city of sin, and temptation. If one were to listen carefully they just might have been able to hear the fired shots of yet another one of the Haitians infamous battles with the Cuban gangsters.

Now don’t get me wrong, all the homes on Starfish Island stick out, but one seems to be as close to the eye as possible with out puncturing it. Of course I speak of the large orange, Mexican styled 2 story home belonging to a true legend in the world of organized crime, Tommy Vercetti. The man practically owns the city. Why if you ask me I’d say Vice City can easily be mistaken as Vercetti-Land.

On this particular night the house seemed to be almost empty. No goons, no mobsters, no Cubans making deals with “Mr. V” as rest of the family called him. There did seem to be two beings in this house though. Up the stairs an through the first door way up there, were two men. One dressed in a black suit with small white stripes, the other in lavender with the sleeves slightly rolled up.

“What am I going to do Ken? I know they’re coming!” asked the man in the black. “I don’t know Tommy! How am I supposed to know?!” screeched Ken in a stressful manner. “Because you are my lawyer.” replied Tommy. “God Dammit I need to start hanging around a different crowd.” Vercetti mumbled under his breath. A long silence passed before either one spoke. “Okay here’s what were doing, so you better listen up you prick.” Mr. V said abruptly. “We find my closest living blood; we go pay him a visit. We’ll tell him I want him to be the godfather… the big don. Then I got that taken care of and I can at least go down feeling secure.” Explained Tommy. “Okay. Good idea. Great idea! So who’s your closest relative?” asked Ken. “I don’t know. That’s where you come in. I want you to do a search on the name Vercetti.” ordered Tommy. “All I know is whoever we find will most likely be up in Liberty City, since I was up there all my life until 87’ when I was sent down here. So I’ll get two tickets to Liberty, you find as much information on our guy as possible. I’ll be by your office tomorrow”. “Okay.” Said Ken, still a little stressed. “And Ken,” yelled Tommy as Ken was half way out of his office, “Pack warmly.”

You want an honest opinion I'm sure, so as to not build your hopes up in the long run? Okay: I've read better. But you have potential, mate. A nice first person narratiev style, with good ideas. But a little advice: throw that out and start again on your OWN original work; that way, working on something original is far more satisfying. I'm speaking from experience here, mate. I started off writing a novel based on the game Mafia, but opted halfway through to change the plot entirely and change the characters' names, as well as adding many more. I now feel far more comfortable writing my own work. It doesn't have to be entirely different, but at least change names and such.
Hope you don't mind a bit of criticism and advice.

Mick

thanks. critisisum is what i need. i was actually thinking last night of doing something on my own and i have basic ideas worked out, all i need is some original and italian last names. i'm having troule thinking them up though so if anyone could help me out on names i'd appriciate that.

I used to have the same problem (with names). What helped me was reading a non-fiction Mafia book. THe more names you read the more ideas come flooding to your brain. I've also had sub-plot ideas arise from non-fiction.

Mick

If could be a naritive like Goodfellas.

I found a Geneology website, with thousands of Sicilian last names. I started writing a story a while back, and I am basing the characters off of real gangsters.

my grandmothers maiden name is a great one to use and she is sicilian but i don't think she'd appriciate me using it.

This is some good dialogue you got here corleone.
I've completed 54 pages of my GTA movie(which is based on GTA 3, however) and maybe you and I should go into the business of movie writing, together. You do have potential my friend, keep us updated. Who is your cast for this movie?

MY Book. The Mafia Hasnt been introduced. This is the WWII secunce.

Chapter I
June 6th, 1944
D-Day - H-Hour Minus 5
Altitude - 1000 Feet over Saint Mere Eglise

"And When He Gets To Hevan;
To Saint Peter He Shall Tell;
One More Soldier Reporting Sir;
I served My Time In Hell"
Unknown American Soldier
June 6th, 1944

Sleep. Something I had been long depribed of for the last few days. Sleep was something that was lost by many Men Those last wo days leading up to the invasion.
Invasion. That was the word. That Was Our Anxiety. That is what Murdered Sleep.

Indeed It Had Made Sleep into something of a Commodety.

In a nutshell...I was fatigued was before I jumped into Normandy

***
Darkness:
"Fucking Army...Fuckin Ike! FUCKING KRAUTS!!" said a dark figure within the Small, Cramped Aircraft.
"Wha? Where Am I?" I said as I awoke from a miniture slumber induced from pill handed out to us before we boaded. Their Purpose? Supodedley to Control Airsickness.
"Damn Pills" said Another Figure
"Aww Shit! What Time is it? Where ae we?" I exclaimed in Question.
"Those Pills knoked you out! said the figure who had just responded to me, in good humor of course.
"We're over the English Channel son but don't worry. We'll be over the drop zones soon. Time to make our peace with our Maker" said the First Figure taht had spoken with me
And So It had dawned upon me that We We're at this very moment ove rthe English Channel on an Aircraft.
"Hey Mick! Need A Light?" said The Second figure.
At this point I had Come to my senses.
"Mike? Need a light" said The Voice as It Shoved a Cigarte in my lips.
I recognized the voice yet I did not see the face or the figure. This was only Temporary for his face was then Iluminated by a small light source of a Small,Smoldering Cigarete. And slowly I saw a silhoute apear and Disapper as he puffed on the wraped Tobacco until the source faltered and It was Darkness again.

mines actually a mixture of GTA3 and Vice City. I read your topic on your movie, and i actually enjoyed it while others flammed it. I do want to write movies for a living, and that'd be cool to work together but sadly i'm only 14 and have 4 years of school left. But maybe one of these days after high school and an english major in college i'll look you up and come to you with a script.

I have decided to give you all another install ment of my story. Hope you all enjoy.

Another bright day came across the city, families strolled to the beach, but don’t let that fool you. Although lovely and warm on the outside inside, on the core, lurched drug kingpins and mobsters waiting for there enemies to come around and when that happened BAM they whacked them so fast no one could see.

Somewhere in the city lay the office of a corrupt crack snorting lawyer. Upon this building pulled up a white Infurnus, with out a single spec of dirt on it. Even the tires were black as night. The horn honked twice, quickly but enough to signal to someone you where in a hurry. Behind the wheel sat a man who just by his looks could intimidate the toughest, most powerful and wealthy man in America. This man was, who else than, Tommy Vercetti.
“Hurry up Ken!” he yelled, “Useless fuckin’ piece of shit…” Tom began to mumble beneath his breath when the passenger door opened and in came Ken.
“Okay Mr. Vercetti, the…”
“Ken you’ve known me for 15 years. 15 fuckin’ years. You can call me Tommy.”
“Okay Tommy… I just get a little nervous before flights.”

Tommy groaned while rubbing his face in a vertical motion. “Please tell me you got the information I asked for.” He hesitatingly said. “Yeah, yeah… it’s all here.” Ken responded. Tommy began loosening up and pulled out of the small ally where he was parked next to a faggio. “Okay then. Let’s here it.” Tommy demanded while he drove towards the southern most bridge in the city. “Okay so after hours of searching the name Vercetti, I came across some current news articles about these killings from just a little over a year back.” Ken began, “Now, all of these events are suspected to be the aftermath of one of the biggest hit-men in Liberty. The guys name’s Michael… Michael Vercetti.” Before Ken could say another thing Tommy interrupted with “What did you say his name was?”
“Uh… Tom… Are you okay?”
“Whaddaya… some kind of Doctor? Huh? I think you should answer the question.”
“…Michael… Michael Vercetti.”
“No. No fuckin’ way am I bringing him into this. No way.”
“Well I hate to break it to you sweetheart but I don’t think you have a choice. The only other Vercetti that isn’t dead is 67 years old, and he happens to be a monk in Italy!” Ken said assertively. “Besides,” He started up again, “what does it mean to YOU? What’s he? Your son?” Ken finished jokingly with a few chuckles.

Several moments of silence passed inside the low riding sports-car as Tommy continually turned to glance at Ken, while still trying to pay attention to the highway filled with whacked out cabbies. After a while Ken looked at Tommy and screeched “You have a son?!” Tommy once again hesitated as he parked the car that was now slightly dirt stained, which may have been the first time the car had ever been dirty at all, and in a quiet, depressed but angry voice said “C’mon… I don’t want to miss the flight.”

i think when i finish the story i'll post the whole thing at once so there proboblly wont be anymore preveiws like that.

This is some good stuff but if this was in the '80's and not today, then it would be too early to bring the character Micheal Vercetti in as Tommy's son. The story is good, though, keep it up.

no,no, no ,no. it IS in modern times. it takes place shortly after the cochera dam incodent in GTA3. sorry about any confusion.

Does Tommy ever meet up with GTA 3's main character aka Fido?

thats for me to know and you to find out . beleive me... you're in for a real ride.

Sweet. If your entire plot is as good as the hype, then you and I should be screenplay writers.

cool. i cant wait to see your screenplay when you finish. i just got finished writing the 3rd scene which is the first big action sequence. it's pretty cool. if you want i will PM it to you.

i've been working hard to get these little details down most people dont noitice. when ever i write i have the ps2 with GTA3 on it near by just to make sure i get EVERYTHING correct.

Hold on, junior. GTA 3 is MY department.

well for the rest of the story, they're in liberty so i'm only doing it to get everything right geographical wise. other then that it's a whole knew story, so you have nothing to worry about.

GTA3 was superiour to vice... you're screenplay should be awsome.

Cool beans. I have just completed 60 pages of the rough draft script. I'm 3/4 into the completion of the script. Here is a line from the script. This is a scene where The Gunman meets up with Ray Machowski(remember, this is a rough draft. This line might not make the final cut.):
(The Gunman walks slowly around the benches looking for Ray Machowski. After walking around each bench, The Gunman realizes that there isn't one person sitting on a bench that looks like a cop. The Gunman walks away from the benches and walks towards the bathroom area. He walks down the stairs and walks into the mens room. The Gunman walks into one of the stalls. His toilet is covered in dirty, old toilet paper and the bowl of the toilet is practically covered in violent diarreha.)
GUNMAN:Jesus Christ.
(The Gunman closes his eyes to avoid looking at the mess and covers his nose to avoid the smell. He takes a piss for about 5 seconds and walks out of the stall. He, then starts walking over to the sinks. The Gunman turns on the sink and washes his hands. He turns off the sink and dries his hands.)
RAY:Don't worry, kid. Your not the only one.
(The Gunman turns around and sees the crooked cop, Ray Machowski. Ray is between his mid-50's to mid-60's. He is wearing a gray suit and pants, with a thin black tie and black dress shoes.)
GUNMAN:The only one? Wha---
RAY:Everybody always falls for that stall the first time. I guess you could say it's a tradition around these parts.
GUNMAN:Looks like someone died in there.
RAY:I believe it was some junkie that died in there. I guess you could say that in the end, the crack killed him.(laughs)Get it?

sounds great!!!