The dark room was lit by the bright blue glow of his computer screen, a melody from Star Wars : The phantom menace playing on the radio of his Harley Davidson, the sound of heavy minigun fire and helicopters exploding bouncing back and fourth between the four walls of his isolated cell. The thick wooden walls of his dark room were lined with GTA posters. The dusty wooden floor was covered with a GTA carpet and GTA magazines, Tony Vercetti was running quickly towards an angry mafia boss with ak’s in each hand shouting something. The bright celing was covered with GTA stickers and a broken lightbulb hung down in the middle, wich hadn?t been fixed for many years. His desk was covered with old GTA games. His computer was packed with new GTA mods, his closet was his own private arsenal. It was filled with weaponry and ammunition, enough for a whole army.

Someone knocked at the door. He shot down another police helicopter. Someone knocked at the door again. He hijacked another car. Someone knocked very ferosiously at the door this time. At this sound he suddenly arrose from the chair, looked around the room slowly, as if he did not recognize his surroundings. Then he looked back at the comuter screen, then at his bed, then at the tightly sealed closet. He had been in the room for weeks, maybe months. He hadn?t eaten, he hadn?t slept. He had beat GTA San Andreas 251 times.

Someone busted open the door, it fell with a loud heavy clang on the floor and the dust arose and clouded the asylum. The landlord stood there, with a bullethole in his head and he stood in his room, with a desert eagle in his hand. The landlord stumbled into the room, his legs started loosing power and he fell down on his knees, gasping for air as he slowly lost consiousness. A police helicopter flew past his window and the sirens of policecars were heard in the distance. He opened the closet slowly, he took out his arsenal, he lined all the weapons neatly on his dusty bedsheets and prepared for war.

The first cop came sneaking into his house through the front door of the apartment building and a line of cops entered after him. They slowly snuck up the stairway as the armoured SWAT trucks started pulling up outside and cop cars surrounded the house. He loaded clps into his weapons, lined up clips in his belt, filled his pockets with ammunition, strapped on the kevlar vest, strapped the uzis around his waste and the shotguns and ak?s on his back. He put the revolvers in his pockets, the desert eagles behind his belt, the knifes hooked on the belt, knifes in his shoes and the heavy mingun in his hands. As he walked out through his room and into the long corridor he felt stronger. He was stronger, he was Tony Vercetti.

The cops arrived at the corridor now, they turned to face him, they pointed their guns at him and were met by minigun fire that sent them flying through the window behind them. An unlucky helicopter was passing by outside and burst into colurful red flames. The SWAT team were moving in, covering the exits and running up the stairs. He moved to the stairway steadily and started shooting as soon as he rounded thefirst corner, instantly killing a line of SWAT. He went from one level to the next killing SWAT members like he had eaten jellybeans.

He arrived at the first floor and kicked open the frontdoor, at the same time spraying bullets in all directions. The cars surrounding the bulding exploaded in neat rows and the officers standing behind them were hit by heat, debris, fire and bullets. The chaos stopped at the very end of the line of cars when the ammunition in his minigun ran out and the very last police officer left standing shot one bullet, it flew threw the flames and smoke in a predestined path towards his bloodshot eyes and his left ear dissapeared. Another bullet hit him on the right shoulder as he crouched down and responded to the gunfire with dual ak?s. A military vehicle arrived and soldiers jumped out through all doors, he started running towards them, with the ak?s blasting the latest hits and the soldiers surrounding the vehicle fell down one after another. He jumped in the jeep and drove away, shooting at innocent civilians through the window with an uzi while tuning in the radio.

A police barrier blocked his way ahead and he broke through, spikes diggin into the tires of the vehicles. He turned the next corner on 2 weels and the vehicle suddenly lifted from the ground and landed on it?s roof, he threw himself out the broken window as it then started bouncing down the steep hillside and landed in the dark murky river below. He watched it sink and prepared himself to stand up, turning his head to face ahead oh him, staring straight into the cannon of a military tank.

Boom.

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