Before undertaking any violent gang warfare, it’s wise to stock up on medical supplies! Steeling myself for dehydration, I take my first tentative steps back onto familiar ground.
Okay, I know the score here. Might as well get into character. *ahem*
“Heeeeeeyyyy, I heard there was a big, strong doctor-y man in here who could do all sorts of doctor things and–”
Aaaaah! You came outta freakin’ nowhere, dude! I almost poked your eye out with my gun! Which I should probably holster because it’s rude to run around with my gun flailing wildly all over Creation, especially in someone else’s house.
…
Aaaaanyhoo, I’m here on behalf of the Committee to Kill the Fuckin’ Power Gangers. You in?
Yes. Very wise, very astute. Truly, your contribution is highly valuable. So anyway, I’m gonna need some help with the whole “slaughter” thing. Whaddaya say, wanna deconstruct some heads for once?
Sounds good to me.
Doc gives me three whole stimpacks (thanks, that’ll be helpful for exactly five minutes!) and I render payment in the manner to which he has become accustomed. I have got to get health insurance; this is ridiculous…
Next, I decide it’s high time I break good ol’ Darlene out of her stupor. Coyote ugly be damned, she’s the only decent shot in this town.
Heeeeyyyy! So, you’re probably wondering why I’m still here. It’s this whole…uh, thing, and it’s totally reasonable! Anyways, I know you love justice, so I thought I’d swing by to say hi, tell you that you look cute, and ask if you wanna come kill some Powder Gangers with me! Whaddaya say? It’ll make a nice change from popping geckos!
I LOVE YOU TOO. I mean, uhhh…normal…stuff?
For once, Darlene is on the ball. She tells me the key to recruiting more fighters is swaying Trudy to my side, which should be easy enough since, as we all know, a woman’s heart is through her radio. She also recommended dealing with surly Chet to get some armor and ammo, and says this amazing thing:
Tell me more about the extra holes.
But this is no time for romance! I tell Trudy to call up some beefy farm lads (why is her “little” black book so thick, I wonder?) and head over to the General Store.
Darlene also warned me that “give” isn’t in Chet’s vocabulary, which I think means he’s a bottom. This should be easy enough! (I’m very bossy.)
Oh, come on! The town of Goodsprings has gotta be worth at least a thousand caps. Well, almost. But isn’t it close enough to an even trade?
Chet just glares at me over the impressive heft of his nose. Okay, Waynetta, it’s time to do what you were made to do: pass Charisma checks.
“Uurrrr there’s a threat to my very existence targeting the place I live but I don’t wanna spend money or expend effort in combating it urrrr.” What are you, a climate change denier? It’s your hometown! Dick.
I hope I get to murder this chickenshit asshat later.
There’s only one more name Darlene mentioned to me: Easy Pete. Apparently, the glad-handing old codger has quite the stock of dynamite stashed away somewhere. Unfortunately, I put literally zero points or efforts into Explosives, but there’s no way that’ll matter, right?
He certainly has a point! Luckily, I’m sure Waynetta has a brilliant Speech-related quip to convince him to just hand over the–
Ohhhhhhh that’s not gonna work.
And it doesn’t. Easy Pete firmly refuses to give me any dynamite, but he does let slip that it’s buried somewhere.
My silver tongue may have failed me, but my memory hasn’t! I recall an obvious burial outside of town somewhere near the camper I crashed in, and I know that graveyard has some mighty fresh graves. But before I can dig up anything much, I’ll need a shovel.
The graveyard’s fresh outta shovels. I could head back to town, I suppose, but instead decide it might be time to do a little grinding for fun and profit. And EXP, mostly. I’m still only Level 2 and that seems like a bad level to be going into a gang fight, so instead of turning back, I head deep into the hills.
Gee, I wonder what those signs say? Hope it’s not “keep out” or anything like that!
Oh, oops!
But I barely have the chance to accept the sign’s challenge when I’m suddenly joined by an unexpected companion.
JIMINY CRICKETS!!! Don’t sneak up on me like that! Why the frick are you following me, you giant floating robo-creeper?
Okay…well…that’s actually really nice. Thank you. Again.
Feeling an odd mix of guilty and weirded out, I go back into town to look for a shovel. I’m just passing the saloon when I notice something weird.
Uhhh, Pete? You okay there, buddy? Where are you going?
A courier’s instincts are never wrong, except apparently that time I got myself shot in the head. Pete’s not running for his cardiovascular health, some shit’s about to go down!
I look behind me and–
SON OF A MOTHERFUCK!!!
….
Flashback. 2012. Fallout:New Vegas? I didn’t know this one existed. It’s good, you say? I should play it? Okay!
I wake up in a town called Goodsprings. I was shot in the head but now I’m alive. A lady teaches me to shoot geckoes and make medicine. A man asks me to find his missing girlfriend. The colors are ugly and the radio’s already repeating itself, but I’m having a fine time…
…until a giant radscorpion comes out of the desert and eats me.
I get annoyed, put the game down. Forget about it.
Flash forward a decade. It’s 2022. I wake up in a town called Goodsprings. I was shot in the head but now I’m alive. A lady teaches me to shoot geckoes and make medicine. A man asks me to find his missing girlfriend. The colors are ugly and the radio’s already repeating itself, but I’m having a fine time…
…until a giant radscorpion comes out of the desert and eats me!!!
It was scripted. It was always scripted. It was a challenge, and I didn’t have the attention span back then to handle it, but I have to face it now.
I’m scared of scorpions, dammit 
So, clearly, the straightforward approach is not going to work, and unfortunately, reloading does not remove the nasty behemoth.
Well, I may be new to Fallout, but I’m no stranger to Bethesda thinking. I have a cunning plan!
Abandoning the stupid dynamite, I book it up the hill and fling myself into Ringo’s hidey-hole, locking the door behind me.
Uh-huh, all good. We’re ready to rock! Why don’t you lead the way? No reason. No reason at all. Just make sure you’re the first one out the door. It’s, uh, good luck.
Lovely Darlene shows up like a slightly dense Valkyrie to ride with us to eternal glory, and we’re away!
And just like that, the Gopodsprings brain trust does exactly what I expected them to do: aggro onto the radscorpion, along with the Powder Gangers, grinding the ugly motherfucker into a fine, sticky paste while I hang back and look cute in a hat!
AND IT’S DOWN! I screamed “WE ARE AWESOME” in real life.
But the Powder Gangers are still kicking, and they commit a heinous fucking crime right away: attacking Cheyenne with a machete.
Hey, back off! Killing Cheyenne is my job!
But the joke dies on my lips once I realize that the Powder Ganger managed to kill Cheyenne just as my final bullet took him out for good.
That’s when I realized this might not be as big of a win as I thought it was going to be.
Despite the fact that the Powder Gangers showed up to a gunfight with knives and exactly zero shirts, they put up a good fight, and my friends start falling all around me. I have just enough time to see Darlene is still alive before running full-tilt around the side of a truck and emptying a million bullets into Joe Cobb’s smug fucking face.
He soaks ‘em up like a fucking sponge, and it’s over.
Ringo says something to me, but it’s just buzzing in my ears. He barely seems affected by the carnage, and saunters away after basically a casual “thanks.” Normally, I’d be pissed at his lack of gratitude, but I’m too busy running to where I last saw my friends.
It’s not a pretty sight.
I have done a terrible, terrible thing today.
I slowly pick over the corpses. We lost Trudy. We lost Cheyenne. And…
Oh, my sweet Darlene.
You deserved so much better than this. You just wanted to help people. I promise you, your sacrifice won’t be forgotten here. I’m gonna clean up this wasteland in your name, and I’ll pet every fucking dog I see in Cheyenne’s name.
Adios, mi amor.
I sift through the wreckage. Find a couple new hats. They don’t cheer me up much. Maybe they will tomorrow.
Goodsprings is a ghost town. It already feels emptier, less alive. The only friends I have left are my robot stalker, a whiny little twunt hiding in the general store, and a medical pervert.
I can’t keep going, not after this. Not tonight. I’m covered in blood, sand, and scorpion venom. My eyes are burning, but the air’s too dry for tears, and sips them away.
I don’t want to stay in this town another minute, but I haven’t got the strength to do much else but drag myself up the hill again to the only place I know that’s still safe. Where everybody knows your name. And they’re always glad you came, because they don’t take credit cards.
“Doc? You home? I need help…”
coda
IT’S NOT FUCKING SCRIPTED. THIS REALLY FUCKING HAPPENED TO ME TWICE, AT RANDOM, A DECADE APART IN TIME.
fin