Recap:
Moda, being pissed off by an unpleasant shopping experience downtown, comes home in a bad mood. Tommy, noticing this, decides to take her out golfing "Vercetti Style".
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Chapter 6: Vercetti Style Golf
The three left the store. Moda had on her golf ensemble, while Tommy had his red one. Moda also managed to convince Tommy to buy Claude a change of clothes so he just got him some new jeans and a plain white polo tshirt. They got back into the Sentinel and drove around the corner to the door of the golf course.
"Wow..." Moda gasped.
"Nice ain't it?" Tommy said. He caught sight of his "groupies" at the entrance then said "Oh shit..."
Hanging around the entrance were a group of elderly citizens dressed in pink, white and green. They watched the three exit the vehicle, sneering at them and turning up their noses. One of them was bold enough to approach Tommy as they tried to get inside.
"Hmmph! Are ya planning to kill someone's grandpappy today?" asked an old man with very poor posture, glasses and a bald, liver-spotted head.
"Leave me alone, gramps..." Tommy pushed him aside.
"Yeah, why don't you leave US alone, Vercetti!" shouted a female golfer from afar.
"Uh-huh, you always drive your caddy at full speed and taking us senior citizens down!" said another. Soon, Tommy was surrounded by the group of seniors. Moda and Claude stood aside, shocked and gawking in anticipation as to what Tommy would do next.
"Listen! Don't gimme that crap! If you don't wanna get ran over, all ya gotta do is turn up your hearing aids and listen for the honk." he said.
"I ain't got no hearin' aid!" shouted a raspy old voice.
"Then just...move the hell out the way! Now if you could excuse me, WE..." he said pointing to himself and the kids. "...Would like to do some golfin'!"
"Golf THIS, punk!" said a female as she took out her golf club and hit Tommy on the back with it.
"Ow!" Tommy shouted, un-fazed yet caught offguard by the strike. The other seniors took out their golf clubs as well, raising them as high as they could. They backed up into a bigger circle so they could have plenty of room to pummel Tommy with their clubs.
'Uh-oh...' thought both of the kids as they shot each other a glance.
Tommy, who didn't want to hurt or kill the old people...well, at least not with his bare hands, just shoved one ofthem forcefully to the ground. He fell over easily and was struggling to get back up.
"My hip!" said the poor man. This made his allies angrier as they silmutaneously started beating the crap out of Tommy with their golf clubs. This didn't hurt him too much, for they were only feeble citizens with light golf clubs. Plus, they were only hitting his torso and abdomen.
"I...could...use some...help, here!" He shoutedto the kids under the cartoony-like thud sounds being created from the beating. Moda and Claude looked at Tommy, then each other. Reluctantly (especially Moda), they walked up to the circle and gazed at Tommy.
"You heard 'im Claude...let's do this..." Moda said breathing a heavy sigh. She grabbed the shoulders of an old woman. "Sorry, Miss. Old-Lady Ma'am!" she said as she threw the old woman to the ground.
She repeated this to the other three seniors she pushed. Claude however, wasn't ascourteous and was simply peeling the old people from Tommy and tossing them to the ground, giving them scrapes on their gross, saggy old bodies. He smiled to himself thinking about how much he was actually enjoying bullying senior citizens. After about half an hour, the battle was over and the entrance of the Leaf Links golf course was littered with old bodies. Alive, of course. The senior citizens lay there, moaning and aching in pain.
"Okay, ready to do some golf?" Tommyasked enthusiastically.
"What!B-but what about the old folks!" Moda exclaimed.
"What about em'?" he replied with his usual I-don't-give-a-crap tone of voice.
"C'mon, we can at least call an ambulance..."
"Ha. YOU can call an ambulance, while I go in and golf!" He said and marched inside the golf course through the metal detectors. Claude followed behind him leaving Moda by herself. Eventually, she walked inside but asked the security guards to call an ambulance. She took out a wad of money and asked them to divide it amongst the seniors to convince them not to press charges against Tommy, Claude or herself.
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Beep! Beep!
Moda turned sharply to see Vercetti in a turquoise golf cart full of golf clubs with Claude riding shotgun. She got in and Tommy drove to a high point of the course. It was a very steep, grassy hill which overlooked most of the course. Below, at nearby tees, there were many small groups of other golfers.
"Are we s'posed to be up here? It don't look very safe..." Moda commented.
"Relax, it's pefect. The best spot on the whole freaking course!" Tommy said, smiling.
'He is a little too pumped about this golf thing...' Claude thought, staring at Tommy with wide eyes.
"Can you golf, kid?" he asked Moda while reaching into one of the golf bags.
Actually, Moda did know a little bit about golfing. Her father had forced her to take a few lessons while she was a kid. She actually hated golf but came anyway, more curious about the "Vercetti Style" than anything else.
"Yeah, I know a little sump'n-sump'n..." she cheesed and approached the tee, casually swinging her club.Claude threw her a bright, baby-blue golf ball and a wooden golf tee. She caught it. Standing tall, she squinted her eyes in the sunlight to scope the golf course for a nearby hole.
"Where am I aimin'?" she asked.
Claude then noticed another thing about his cousin. She had a strange, yet familiar accent of some sort. Northern, obviously. He made a note to "ask" about that, hoping it'd give him a clue as to where she was from. Maybe he could get that info to Tommy and he wouldn't hate him so much. He shrugged it off.
"Right down...there." Tommy pointed to a hole which was actually occupied.
"Um..." she said, not exactly sure if he meant that hole or somewhere else, but didn't bother to question. "Okay..." she said while aiming. She rose her golf club and swung. Tommy smiled at the crack sound the club made hitting the ball as it flew far into the blue sky. The three watched in anticipation as to where the ball would land below. When it was out of view, they all heard a thunk! sound and a groan.
"Oops." Moda said, tiptoeing to the edge of the hill.
"What the hell!" said an angry golfer who was rubbing his head and holding her ball. He looked up and met eyes with her. "Hey kid! You hit me right on my fucking head with your fucking golf ball!"
"Sor-reeeeeeeee!" she shouted.
"Yeah, I'll make you sorry alright!" he shouted back, shaking his fist. "What kinda stupid kid are ya! Hitting your elders on the tops of thier heads with freaking golf balls..." He continuted to rant. Tommy, hearing this, crept to the edge of the hill as well.
"Up yours, dickhead!" Tommy shouted, laughing hysterically on the inside. "Better a golf ball in your head than one of my bullets!"
The golfer instantly backed down and continued his game with a lump on his head."Crap, I meant to aim for the hole but..."
"You did perfect, kid!" Tommy said while writing on a score card. "That's a birdie."
"What?" Moda asked. Claude was confused as well.
"Oh, I didn't tell ya? If ya miss, it's a bogey, if you hit a limb, it's a par, if you hit the torso or a vital organ, it's an eagle and headshots are a birdie. You get a hole in one if you knock em' unconscious...Or kill em'."
"I should've known! I should've known that the 'Vercetti Style' of golfing involved the infliction of pain on people?"
'Infliction?' Claude thought.
"Relax, kid. It's good, messy, family fun!" Tommy smiled again. Moda frowned at him. "And one of the best ways I invented to be a complete asshole to society and noone can stop and ya know why? Cuz I'm Tommy Vercetti!" he said. He frowned as well while Moda mocked him repeating his name.
"You know I hate hurting people!"
"Oh REALLY? What about that guy you pounded the everlasting piss out of for trying to steal your car?" he asked.
"Uh...I-I don't know what you're tal--"
"Don't gimme that! I have eyes, ears, hell, even noses and tongues all over this damn city. So, yeah. You're what we call a 'closet maniac'."
Moda, embarrassed and defeated. Set up a tee on the hill and said "Your turn, Claude!" She pushed him to the golf tee and handed him a small club.
Claude, unsure of what to do, raised his golf club and swung. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on where you stand in this twisted, extreme version of golf, he missed. Tommy chuckled of course. Claude, frustrated took the club and threw it off the hill. It soared far into the sky.
"Whoa..." Moda said in a dazed voice, as she watched the sport instrument slash leathal weapon take it's journey through the air. Tommy's face lit up but then his and the kids' faces fell as they saw that the club was heading towards a private group...Most of them dressed in black and a few men dressed in very familiar brown uniforms surrounding a special guest. The club finally landed, hitting the guy, and a police officer in the head. The blow knocked them both unconscious.
"Oh..." she said
"...Crap." said Tommy with wide eyes.
The police officier scoped his surroundings for the launching pad of the projectile and spotted the trio on top of the hill. He pointed at them and shouted "Freeze! Police!". Him and the guards jumped into a nearby golf cart.
"Run!" Tommy shouted as he crammed the kids into the cart then got in as well and drove away.
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Outside The House
(about 5pm)
Claude's P.O.V.
I don't know exactly who it was I hit with the club I threw, but apparently they were very important to have bodyguards and police with them on the course. Tommy was horrified, you should've seen the look on his face. But we got into the cart and hauled ass. Eventually we lost them and Moda really wanted to leave. Tommy, of course, refused but made a safer, less mischeivious offer to continue the game. He insisted that we just go to the driving range and hit balls into the ocean.
She should've known this option was too safe and quiet to be true because Tommy, instead of aiming at the ocean blue, was aiming at watercraft and the passengers on them. He hit a few "eagles" but no "hole in ones". Moda ended up hitting a Coast Guard boat and dented the side of it by accident so this had led to another chase.
Now, we're finally home. We're all tired but for the first time since I've been here...I actually had fun today.
Tommy drove into the driveway of the mansion and got out. Moda ran into the house. Tommy's cell phone rang and he answered it immediately.
"Yeah..." he answered flatly.
"Did you have fun golfing today, hmm?" said a accented, female voice. Tommy's jaw dropped and his eyes bugged open.
End Chapter
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I know I ain't write in a few days (busy and brain-farted) but here it is! It's just something to hold you off until I write another chapter. In the meantime, why don't you review, and recommend and all that good stuff. Love you all!