Tommy woke up late. It was already 10:00 by the time he got up, and the first thing he noticed was that his boys had definitely had a pizza. About eight boxes of pizza were piled up on the floor of the mansion. Shrugging, Tommy had his late breakfast, and drove off to see what Kent had for him at the recording studio. When he arrived, he spotted Love Fist: the rock band he heard all the time on VROCK. Their songs were rather annoying sometimes, but Tommy listened when he was bored.
"All right!" yelled one of the members.
"Yesssss! Brilliant, bloody brilliant! Hey, Tommy! Glad you could make it. Hey, you ever met Love Fist before?" Paul yelled.
"No, I haven't but I've always loved your music." Tommy lied, trying to please them.
"Let me introduce you to the band. This is Percy, Dick, and Willy's in the kaze, and that was Jezz in the booth earlier, and guys, I want you to meet a good friend of mine. This is Tommy. We go way back."
"All right, pal. And eh, what was your name again?" Jezz asked.
"Leave it out, Jezz, you remember-don't be playing them games with me, mate, I'm too crafty for that, sunshine!" Paul cut in.
"You see, the thing is, Tom, the boys need some help. They ain't too connected here, they don't have the old 'how's your father'?" Paul continued.
"We need some drugs, pal! Gonna get on the old Love Fist fury, you know!" Jezz exclaimed.
"Well, this is Vice City, man. What's the problem?" Tommy asked.
"We need Love Juice, man, you know?" Percy answered.
"Love Juice, man!" Dick exclaimed.
"Love Juice?" Tommy asked curiously.
"Aye, two parts boomshine, one part trumpet, five fizz bombs and a litre of petrol." Jezz answered.
"Can you help us out, pal?" Percy pleaded.
"Aw, it would really mean a lot to the boys. You can do that for the boys, right?" Paul asked.
Tommy nodded, and walked out to his Admiral to drive over to where the dealer was supposed to be.
When he arrived, he honked the horn, and when the dealer arrived, he produced the cash that Love Fist had given him.
"Looking for something special? I got what you need!" the dealer grinned in a suave voice. Taking the money, he yelled at Tommy:
"Thanks for the money, sucker!"
"Asshole." Tommy muttered and raced towards the dealer, who had just hopped on his PCG-600.
Luckily for Tommy, the dealer couldn't handle a bike very well. He skidded out trying to turn left from the recording studio, and only managed to fall off his bike and about two seconds later, get run over by Tommy's Admiral. Cursing, Tommy took the money, drugs and the sawn-off shotgun that the dealer had dropped, and headed back up the stairs.
When he got up, the band was waiting for him.
"Hey mate, the guys could do with some company, if you know what I mean…" Paul told Tommy as he headed upstairs.
"I know just the girl." Tommy replied, thinking of Mercedes.
He sped his Admiral over across the Leaf Links Bridge, to pick up Mercedes from her apartment.
"Hey, Mercedes!" Tommy greeted her when she opened the door.
"Hiya, Tommy. And how are you?" Mercedes replied.
"Just fine. Listen, you fancy having Love Fist?"
"Ok, but just as a favour I expect returned." Mercedes agreed as she entered the car.
After a quick speed back to the recording studio, Mercedes got out of the Admiral, and waving goodbye to Tommy, walked inside to have a look at Love Fist.
Tommy now, decided to buy another business. With the boatyard generating some good income every week, with Dwayne and Jethro being very efficient users of their money and supplies for surfer dudes, it was time to buy another business that could generate some good loot for him. He had seen the Cherrypopper Ice Cream Factory on a drive back to Starfish Island once, and it sounded like a decent business to purchase. After grabbing a case of money, he drove right over there, plonking the money down just outside the main entrance to the place, and slowly sliding open the panels. All he could see was a few Mr. Whoopee ice cream trucks and an old lady standing, looking around.
"Who are you?" she asked angrily.
"Your new owner." Tommy calmly replied.
"Were you now, or at any time, a child?"
"What are you talking about?" Tommy asked, confused.
"Were you a child?" she half-shouted.
"Yes! Calm down! What's wrong with you?"
"I knew it. A child. A dirty, stinking, snivelling, snotting, vile, puking, crying little baby! A baby…an awful, horrible, little boo hoo. Mummy doesn't love you. You little shit!" the lady screamed.
"Ow! Calm down."
"I HATE babies, and I hate children. They're dirty, snivelling, snotting, puking little pieces of sh-"
"Enough already!" Tommy cut in.
"You make soft ice cream, okay? It's purely for kids." Tommy continued.
"What kind of psycho are you?" the lady spat back.
"Just so I understand this, why make children happy if you hate them?"
"Oh, you stupid, snivelling, snotty-"
"Shut up!"
"-brat! The ice cream is a front. We distribute other, non-dairy products. And if I see a kid, I put him to good use. Don't I, kiddies? Yes-yes I do, Mummy doesn't love you. She hates you!"
Amused yet shocked, Tommy slowly scanned what the "non-dairy" products sold by the factory were. They were all sorts of things, mostly different types of drugs and such. Maybe buying this place wasn't a good idea at all, Tommy thought. A crazy ice cream lady, running an anti-children front. Boy, if he could sell it, he would sell it right now. But for now, he would sell some Cherry Popper product, and see how everything went. Hell, this factory might still be able to make money for him, and then he could turn it into an ice cream company, which wouldn't please the lady, but at least it wouldn't have cops scurrying to see if this was a front. Shrugging, Tommy got into one of the vans, turned on the jingle, and for an hour, made about 50 deals, which netted him a decent $1000. The other good thing was that the ice cream lady actually assured him that $3000 of the money they made from selling the product and taking children would be his. Maybe funny ice cream business wasn't too bad after all, Tommy thought.