a fanfic about Shenmue!

By Chris Hecht

"Crunch" was the sound the beer bottle made as it was being smashed against an
old crate. It's now sharp edges glimmered in the flickering neon signs of a nearby
bar. The man brandishing this now deadly piece of glass was a filthy thug, common
on the dark alleys of Dobuita. Him and his buddies were cornering Ryo Hazuki,
each of them were gruff, drunken thugs.

"I'm warning you, stay back!" shouted Ryo, as he stepped back a few paces he bumped
into a trash can. This didn't surprise Ryo Hazuki, he knew that that kinda stuff always
happens in movies and cinematics.

"Heh heh heh....whatever you say, school boy!" said one of the punks. He was fat and
had a really big mustache that was now connected to his hair. Ryo thought this looked
pretty silly and believed the man would probably be more intimidating if he would only
shave the damn thing. However, Ryo thought this was an inopportune moment to be
thinking of such a thing, for one of the punks came swinging at him, slashing the air
with his broken bottle. Ryo braced himself.

But enough about Ryo, let's talk about what this story is really about! Three blocks over,
on a slightly less dark and creepy street of Dobuita was a big truck. But this was no
ordinary truck, this one was full of dirt and grime, and hadn't been washed in...well, no,
it has never been washed, actually. But that's beside the point. This truck was Tom's
truck. Tom of TOM'S HOTDOGS! And who else but Tom himself was dancing in front of
his truck, like he does at all times!

Suddenly, Tom stopped. He thought to himself, "what am I doing? I've been dancing here
in front of my truck every day for at least 12 hours for the past three years!" But then Tom
saw a potential customer coming down the dark street, so he started dancing again. Tom
saw the figure disappear, so he figured he was either still under the effects from his drugs,
or the person decided to go home. It turned out the figure was only a bunch of pigeons. Tom
never found this out, for the rest of his life.


The sun was rising in the Yokohama district of Japan. The old, buzzing streetlights that lined
Dobuita were now silent, their lights flickering for the last time until the sun set once again.
Further down the street, there stood Tom, still dancing in front of his truck. The small family-
owned shops that lined the street were now opening, and as the owners opened their doors, they always looked over at the crazy Rastafarian man who's been dancing there for the past three or so years. They always wondered if Tom's hotdogs was a real business establishment or not, because they had never seen anyone even stop for more than moments to even approach Tom.

Tom danced merrily, never pausing even for a minute. This seemed like any other day, as he
watched all the busy Japanese people walk around pretending they have somewhere important
to be. Tom saw Ryo Hazuki, the only person EVER to buy a hotdog from him, even though that was a year and a half ago. Ryo was running down the street, towards the bus stop. Tom knew where Ryo was heading. As of late, Ryo had been going down to the New Yokosuka Harbor. Tom didn't know what for, but Tom always drove his hotdog van there as fast as possible to beat Ryo there, so he could dance and wait for any possibility that Ryo may buy another hotdog. So far this hasn't happened, but hey, you never know.

Tom hopped in the driver seat of his big, grungy truck. "VROOM" went the truck. Tom
smiled and hit the accelerator. "putter putter putter" was the sound it made as it , well,
puttered down the street. Tom got to the main roads, and floored it. He drove as fast
as the beat up hot dog truck would go (roughly 45 mph), despite the fact he was on
a 30 mph speed zone. Tom didn't really care. Any time a police officer pulled him over,
he pretended like he didn't know how to speak any Japanese. This wasn't very hard for
Tom to do, because he only knew a few key phrases in Japanese anyway. His usual
line was "Hey Ryo, try one of my homemade hot dogs! They make you happy!" And so far,
after three years of living in Japan, that was the only phrase he had ever really needed to

Tom was fiddling with the radio, like he always does. That radio hadn't worked for a few
weeks, but Tom didn't give up. It hadn't occurred to Tom, but who was driving the truck?
Soon Tom remembered this, when he heard a little scream and then felt a big "THUD"
under the front left wheel of the Tom's Hotdogs Truck. Tom slammed on the brakes
and backed up, looking around for the person/animal that he hit. Tom then felt another
large "THUD" but this time it was in the rear left wheel of the truck.

"Oh...crap...." sighed Tom. He decided it would be best to take the keys out of the
ignition at this point. Tom hopped out of the car, and crouched down to look under
his truck for a body of any sort. Right under the truck was a body. It was an elderly
Japanese man, wearing khaki pants and a blue jacket.
"Yamagachi-san!" exclaimed Tom. Yamagachi-san was a man Tom knew, for
he walked by Tom's "business establishment" every day.
There was no response from the body. He was no longer alive. In his cold, dead
hand he grasped a glass labeled "My cup."

Tom looked around for anybody who may have seen this accident happen. There was only one person, a young man who was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the 'Tomato convenience store' that he worked at. He had dropped his push broom about twenty seconds ago, when he saw
the speeding, rickety old hot dog van, spewing black smoke, come and plow over an old man,
then back up and run over him again. He was now standing there, gawking.

"Hey man, it was an accident! I didn't see him!" yelled Tom to the young man.
The young man just stood there, staring at Tom, horrified. Tom started walking
towards him, asking "Help me bring him inside! We need to call an ambulance,
man!" But the young man screamed and ran inside his convenience store. He was
the only one inside. He started running to the back room where there was a
telephone he could use to call the police.

Tom rushed inside the store, shouting "It was an accident! Help me get him inside!" The young man screamed again, and leapt over the counter to try and get to the back room. But he didn't leap far enough. His leg caught the end of the counter, and the young man fell. His face smashed into the tile on the floor, blood splattered in all directions, over the counter and on the cash register. The young man rose, his mind scattered and unfocused. His face was covered in his blood, his nose broken and bleeding profusely.

His shaking hand reached over to the cash register and opened it up,
and he shoved handfuls of cash to Tom, screaming "take it! spare me!!"
"No man, it's not like that! I'm not going to hurt you!" declared Tom, but the young man
didn't understand English. Tom then reached out to try and comfort the young man, but
he took it as an attempt to grab him, so he turned around and continued heading for the
phone in back.

As said earlier, the young man's mind was unfocused now, and he didn't
seem to notice the large puddle of blood right on the floor in front of him. His own blood.
at least he didn't seem to notice it, for he slipped on it and fell, knocking over a rack of
magazines, which then fell towards the glass doors. The rack crashed through one of
the doors, making an awful, incriminating mess. The young man was now unconscious,
as if things weren't bad enough.

"OH...crap...mon'." declared Tom to himself. He decided it best that he go and bring
Yamagachi-san's body inside. Tom walked toward his truck, the beginning of this horrible
scene, and dragged the old man's corpse hastily into the convenience store. Luckily for
Tom, no one else seemed to be watching.

As Tom laid the body of poor old Mister Yamagachi on the ground inside, his head was
filled with dire thoughts. "They'll never believe me that this really was just a big accident!"
was the first thought. The second was "What if they send me to jail?" And a third thought
was "I bet Ryo's already at the harbor"

"What am I going to do?!" questioned Tom, even though there was no one, conscious or
living, able to respond. Tom thought hard of a solution, but alas, nothing came to mind.
But just then, through the glass doors came running in Fuku-san!

"RYO!!" shouted Fuku-san, still wearing his gi and no shoes.

Tom just stared at Fuku-san curiously, but silent. Fuku-san blinked a few times, looking
around the room.

"Oh hi Tom! Whatcha doing?" asked Fuku-san, after a few moments of silence and
much awkwardness. "HEY is that a dead body!? Oh my Gosh! That's Yamagachi-San!"
exclaimed Fuku-san, in a voice loud enough that Tom was surprised this didn't attract a

"He's dead, mon', but it was an accident! You know I wouldn't lie to you....uh....Jimmy."
explained Tom.

"It's Fuku. My name is Fukuhara. I'm Ryo's friend!" then explained Fuku-san.

"I knew that! Listen, I think I'm going to need your help fuku-sa--" started Tom, but he was interrupted.

"OH MY GOSH, IS THIS GUY DEAD, TOO!?" Said Fuku-san in an even louder voice than
the last, as he saw the young man, lying in a pool of his own blood.

"No! He tripped! Honestly! I know it sounds made up but--" attempted Tom to explain, but once again was interrupted.

"HE'S GOT NO PULSE!" shouted Fuku-san, this time at about the same tone as his last
exclamation. Fuku was crouched by the young man's body, feeling his wrist for any signs
of life. There were none.

"Oh...that's not good, mon'...." sighed Tom. Things seemed to be getting worse moment
by moment. Tom stood up. "Listen, Fuku-san, this all was an accident, but I don't think
anybody is going to believe me if I tell them that. I think we should burn this place down."

"Whaaa? Uhm...Well, Okay!" Said Fuku-san in his usual, chipper way. Tom wondered
if Fuku-san was even coherent, but that was the least of his concerns at this moment.

So Tom and Fuku poured gasoline all over the interior of the building. Just then a woman
walked into the store quickly. She looked at the batteries then looked around at the store itself.
She saw the young man laying in the puddle of his own blood. She saw the body of Yamagachi
-san, laying there, his jacket covered in tire tracks. She saw the money, some of it stained with
the blood of the young man, scattered about the counter, and the open cash register. She
opened her mouth to try and scream, but nothing came out. She was too horrified for that, even.

"Oh crap....listen lady, it's not what it looks like!" Started Tom.

She stood there, now shaking with fear, trying to muster the strength to scream.

Tom was going to try and explain but Fuku-san stopped him. "No, no, don't bother, here let me
take care of this one!" said Fuku-san. He went up to the lady and karate chopped her right in the
face. She fell to the floor and started making her own puddle of blood. "See! Wasn't that easy!?"
asked Fuku-san, giving Tom a thumbs-up.

"You killed her, mon'!! This is horrible!!" Shouted Tom, making sure not to shout too loud as to
alert anybody nearby.

"Ahhh c'mon, just keep dousing." said Fuku-san. And so they did. Then they lit a match and ran
to Tom's truck.

The building was gleaming. Flames burst out of every opening, smoke desperately trying to find
a way outside. Tom started up his truck once again and they drove.

"Let's hope no one ever finds out about this, mon'!" said Tom to Fuku-san. He now realized
that Fuku-san was his accomplice. Tom shuttered.

"Ahh, it'll be all right! Hey where are we going, by the way?" asked Fuku-san.

"To the harbor! Got to be there in case Ryo ever needs a hot dog!" shouted Tom, almost

appalled that Fuku didn't know this already.

TO BE CONTINUED...because I'm too lazy to type this all at once.