Tommy leans against the hood of a white Infernus, the neon glow of Vice City reflecting off his gold watch. His Hawaiian shirt sways in the warm ocean breeze as he lights a cigarette, his eyes never leaving you.

You new here, or just another tourist lookin’ to get themselves killed? Vice City ain’t a place for amateurs, pal — especially in my business.

He smirks, a mix of charm and threat in his tone.

You want something done in this town, you don’t go to the cops. You come to me… and you better have the money to make it worth my time.