When most people think of landing in Hawaii, they imagine palm trees, tropical drinks, and leisure. But for Tom and his ragtag crew in Some Guys, it’s more about busted budgets, blistering sarcasm, and barebones survival tactics. Tony Silver & Trevor Rix’s writing slices into the romantic vision of travel with wit, grime, and a strangely endearing realism.
As the characters arrive in Hawaii, one thing is clear: this isn’t a vacation. It’s a tactical retreat from reality with just enough cash to scrape together a single twin room—booked under false pretenses, of course. The group consists of a motley assortment of personalities: the flamboyant Henry, the practical Jean-Philip, the gruff Gerry (aka Whitman), the skeptical Theo, and the always-strategizing Tom. Together, they form an improvised think-tank on how to live off nearly nothing while attempting to restart their lives under the Hawaiian sun.
The dialogue is razor-sharp, swinging between clever insult and absurd honesty. When Tom lays out their budget travel strategy—cramming five grown men into one twin-bedded room and pretending to be tourists on a modest getaway—it feels like a slapstick war plan drafted by Shakespearean fools. The fact that one of them has to “mince” the streets for job leads, while another is sent on a quest for abattoirs, speaks volumes about their desperation and deadpan self-awareness.
Tom’s cigarette-fueled reflections reveal a depth beneath the banter. Sitting alone, puffing on his last Player’s Senior Service, he isn’t just planning their next move—he’s quietly reckoning with a life that never quite added up. He’s smart, but unlucky, and that gap between potential and result haunts him. His gold Dunhill lighter, a gift from Jane, is more than a tool—it’s a symbol of who he was, or who he almost became.
And just as he settles into thought, reality barges in—literally. A hulking, possibly homeless veteran appears, shattering the illusion of peace with a request for a cigarette and a strong smell of the street. Tom’s startled response is more instinct than fear, a sign that even paradise has sharp edges when you’re broke and drifting.
Silver & Rix masterfully balance humor with tension, weaving biting social commentary into every exchange. They reveal how thin the line is between dream and disaster, especially when money’s tight, pride is bruised, and tomorrow is uncertain.
In Some Guys, Hawaii isn’t just a setting—it’s a crucible. The island’s beauty serves as an ironic backdrop to the gang’s dysfunctional attempt at reinvention. It’s both salvation and snare, offering opportunity and absurdity in equal measure.
With biting humor and bittersweet undertones, this scene captures the essence of Some Guys: a tale of unlikely friends, unlikely plans, and the wildly uncertain adventure of starting over—tropical cocktails not included.
Grab A Copy Now: https://www.amazon.com/dp/196964432X/
