Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Prime Directive No. 4: Always shoot bandits in the head. Also be awesome. F-YEAH ROBOTICS!

Setting: Bison Steve's Casino.  
Interior. 2nd floor.  
Lost in time, surrounded by evil, low on gas.

Wait.  Nix that last part, that's Army of Darkness.  Anyways.  Beagle'n me, we're gonna go upstairs and mop up a few bad guys in today's installment, so that the good folks of Primm have a few less terrible waking nightmares to worry about.

What they still need to worry about:

  • Radiation poisoning from virtually everything ever.
  • Giant mutated wildlife.
  • OTHER bandits.
  • The crushing weight of their own existence in a post-nuclear world.
Well nobody said it'd be easy.

I don't play around.

Aww yeah.  Take it.  Take it.  TAKE IIIIIIIIIIT.  Goin' through these convicts like Doritos!  OM NOM NOM wait what wa---

Goddamnit Beagle.

Sonova-- Damnit Beagle.  I told you to stay close.  Siiiiiiigh.  Oh well.  I GUESS I'll keep killing convicts so that Primm's safe still, now that its lost its sheriff AND deputy.

I can only dream of going out this way.

Now that's going out with style.  in a bathtub, chock full of crazy ass drugs and booze, tripping balls.  I can only hope to go out that way, or maybe fist-fighting a bear, nude in the woods in the dead of winter.  The remaining convicts are dispatched, and the Bison Steve becomes forever more a grizzly tomb filled with one deputy and some convicts, stripped of all their valuable earthly possessions because I got bills to pay.

Time to go give Nash and the rest of Primm's huddled masses in the Vicki & Vance the bad news; but first a quick stop at the Mojave Express!

Batteries not included

Having picked up exactly what's required (And then some, due to my thieving ways!) I decide it's time to jam these parts into this robot's guts and to hell with the consequences!  If its evil, I'll just shoot it dead again!  I mean it's that easy, right?  That's how these games work; hooray for a moral compass!

"Come with me if you want to live vicariously and go to Vegas."

Hooray!  ED-E, pronounced 'Eddie' liiiiiiiiiiiiiives!  He chirps à la R2-D2 (pronounced Artoo Deetoo.  Blech) And shoots red-hot lasers of Conclave DEAAAAAAAAAATH at my enemies.  He also plays a little attack song and victory music at the start and end of combat because he's so adorable that way.  Hooray I made a friend!  SO HAPPY!

"Get busy gamblin' or get busy dyin'.  Your choice."

Well Nash took the news relatively well; also complimented on fixin' up ED-E.  Says I can keep him! WOO!  Thing is, I now HAVE to find a replacement for Primm, since I kinda got the last guy who represented the law (Barely, by Beagle's own admission) in town, shot dead.

Nash gives me a few leads; firstly the NCR have a guy in the outpost just outside of town, who's a straight shootin' stand up guy.   Downside is then Primm would be under NCR law, which some of the locals wouldn't take too kindly to.  NCR aren't some jackbooted thugs, but they're not necessarily pleasant either.  Its all for the greater good of a Republic who's capital lies far to the west, away from the blasted heat of the Mojave and its woes.

Next up is a former sheriff current convict, serving a term in the NCR Correctional Facility.  Which... is overrun and taken over by Powder Gangers right now.  Word is he's fair and just, if a bit rough on the edges, on account of killin' a man over a minor offense, thus breaking the law he enforced himself as sheriff.

If only there was another way...

"Yee haw, pard'ner!  Have y'all seen this John Connor feller?"

Primm fucking Slim.  What better sheriff for the town than the friendliest robot they done ever did see?  Like a veritable Mr. Rogers this one; except made of metal and able to fire white-hot plasma bolts from his head.  Let's see; I have a bunch of crap I took that wasn't mine, maybe it's enough to go and get'im up to code.


Alright well I guess I used up most of the parts I had to fix ED-E, and that was a winning smashing bravely dashing idea if I had to quantify it with too many words.  I'd try to science my way out of this one, but I'm short 5 skill points.  Unless...

Aaah! My subscription to "Popular Thermodynamics & Quantum Theory" is in!

Magazine articles; be my guide!  Magazines are a new addition to Fallout, as they give a +10 boost to a skill for a set time-limit, but since I only needed 5 points, this'll push me over the edge for what I needed to re-program Slim!  FUCK YEAH SCIENCE.  READIN' SHIT THEN PROGRAMMING ROBOTS.  LIKE A BOSS.


 Aaaaaaaaaand Re-Program!

THAR'S A SNAKE IN MAH BOOTDRIVE (shut up I know I did that joke already)

SUCCESS!  Primm is clearly in good hands, as in no way did I just re-purpose a robot on the fly with potentially shitty code I stole from a magazine printed before the great war.  SO.  With that settled, and a quick trip to Dep. Beagle's former abode and a rummage through his personal computer, I find out that my would-be killers came through Primm, and at last mention were overheard heading towards Novac through Nipton.  WELL THEN.  ONWARDS!

At the Police Station: graffiti or mission statement?

Oh man, the local highway patrol office is full of bandits out to kill first and ask questions never.  Its' just like regular police, AMIRITE?  (No but for real folks; police brutality is no joke, and everybody should be held accountable for their actions.  Especially those who shoot unarmed kids screaming they give up and have their hands in the air.  End /Rant)

Vulgar messages and bandits aside (outside) hailing from the I-95 Vipers gang, which I don't know, they mainly stalk the I-95 interstate?  OK?  Whatever.

Let's have a look inside:

The Post-Apocalyptic version of Popsicle Pete points.

Well looky-there; another star-cap!  It's like those games that force you to collect special unique items that serve no purpose other than being a collectible, as to get an achievement!  Who'da thunk.

I wonder what the corpse has on 'im...


ABSINTHE.  And some beer, and a caravan shotgun (the Over/Under variety too).  Score.  Nothing says a party like strong liquor and firearms.  2 out of 3 of the ATF's most wanted list; let's see if we can't make it a hat trick.


DING DING DING.  Full carton of smokes behind the bench in the drunk tank.  Cigarettes in this game aren't consumable; but they are valuable.  Bartering becomes the lifeblood of commerce in the Mojave wastes, so when you can't always give up your caps, sometimes a carton of Marlboro Light 100s and a case of beer will swing a deal your way, leaving you with enough caps to take the shuttle back to Freeside.

Let's go check that convenience store / gas station down the road...



Off in the middle-distance...

Neat.  A large monument of two gigantic statue-men, shaking hands off in the distance.  Nipton & Novac can wait for a bit, this is probably interesting!

Mojave, Mo' Problems.

Or not.  Its the NCR Mojave Outpost at the border.  This is the western-most point in the game.  If I were to press forward in that direction, I'd hit one of those invisible game-walls waaaaay past the buildings where the chain-link fences are.  If the game would let me go that way, I'd be heading into Fallout 1/2 territory, specifically Vaults 15 & 13 and The Hub, as well as Shady Sands, and San Francisco.  But we can't go there so, no reason to run against that wall.  (Maybe there's a user-made Mod that adds in all that.  Some people go NUTS with this stuff.  Like they rebuilt Morrowind or Oblivion in their entirety within the Skyrim engine, its bananas.)

But first, let me take a selfie.

Well, we'll rest up at the Outpost, me and ED-E before takin' off towards Nipton and Novac, in our quest to find the man that shot my pa.

And by pa I mean head.  The asshole who shot my head.  Mine.  To kill me.  Make me dead.  With murderous intent.


PS.  Any comments/suggestions/trolling feel free to drop'em below, I ain't gon' judge!

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

Primm's woes; pops-in-jail! and other such very obscure wordplay.

Hidey-ho weary travelers!

Last we spoke, I was headed off towards Primm, tiny settlement in the Mojave wasteland, rumored to be where my attackers had headed off to, not long ago.  A fast-talkin' type flanked by two raiders who seemed to be part of the Great Khans; a local group of nefarious and infamous bandits.  Spookyscary!

Oh well, off unto here forth, wot wot good chap!  Time to explore dem wastes, righto!

Amusement Park!  WOOOOOO
 That there's Primm in the distance; home to a Mojave Express courier counter (my employers), the Vicki & Vance Casino, and Bison Steve's Casino.  Wow, a two-casino town!  Shenanigans!

Two-headed Bear Cavalry; the ultimate warrior.

Well it seems the NCR (New California Republic) have set up shop here; they're trying to annex Primm into the NCR.  While they come with good intentions, i.e. bringing stability, economic growth, protection and other benefits befit to any citizen of the Republic, they also kind of want to do it regardless of Primm's choice in the matter.  NCR's at war with Caesar's Legion, and any foothold they can carve into the Mojave to secure supply lines, they'll take.  Its all very Occupational Forces kinda vibe, but the stationed guardsmen aren't too happy about it either.  For them, they feel they should be out further towards the East, securing stronger positions against Legion forces, leaving Primm independent and thus not a concern for NCR to devote Manpower / Resources towards.

Nonetheless as a Freelancer, they ask me to talk to the folks into lettin' them in maybe.  Well lets go see what's all up Primm's bonnet.

It's 'Bison and Steve' not 'Adam and Eve'!

Well there seems to be some thugs out in the street all a shootin'-up the place!  Mojave Express is empty, everything else besides the Vicki & Vance & Bison Steve seem destroyed or abandoned; might as well check one of them out.  Lets go to... Vicki & Vance!

No relation to Pluto.

Johnson here is the operator of the Planet Mojave Express kiosk where I'm a Delivery Boy courier.  He's also one to tell me just what's happened here in Primm; seems some escaped powder-gangers have ran amok, killed the sheriff, and taken his deputy hostage.  Poor ol' Deputy Beagle.  I've gotta rescue him says Johnson, just gotta!

Howdy Pard'ner!

"Primm Slim's the name.  Reciting the Vicki & Vance Casino & Resort lore & lunch menu's my game!"  He's just a friendly RobCo robot greeter with a cowboy hat.  He doesn't have anything else to offer information-wise as to those who assaulted me, OR the town sheriff & deputy so I best be back to exploring Primm.


Well further rootin' around Primm found me the Sheriff's Office... and the sheriff.  Or what's left of him, and his wife.  Sad, really.  Cut down in the prime of their sleep or something.  Powder Gangers are not only idiots for strapping themselves with dynamite all the time, but also cowards.  I won't stand for this.  I won-- wait what's that there...

"Clothes make the man" they say...


Aww yiss.  Lookit them new threads.  I am rootin' AND tootin'.  The Rooty Tootiest there ever was.  Unfortunately this doesn't make me the actual new sheriff of Primm, but Shhhh.  lets just have fun with it for now.

What time is i-... Evil O'Clock I guess, then.  Well.
That's what happens when you steal bars' worth of liquor and guns and everything else not nailed down sufficiently to be stolen when nobody's lookin'.  Oh well, Goodsprings idolize me, and Primm's about to get their deputy back AND have everything stolen but who knows who did that second part, sure wasn't me no sir no ma'am, I'll just mosey on outta here *jingle jingle jingle*

Bison Steve Casino: We have a rollercoaster. Fuck you.

The ol' Bison Steve looks mighty dilapidated, what with it being full of Powder Gangers.  Time I go clear it out for the good folks of Primm.

And I'm all out of bubb-- wait nevermind; found some!
The Bison Steve is now filled with freshly-shot corpses, with one 'leader' corpse holding an Incinerator.  It's essentially a flamethrower, if instead of a continuous stream limited in range it shot fireballs at you.  Its heavy and stupid and I can't use it anyways, so whatever.  It's on the floor.  You want it?  Come and get it.  I don't mind.


Doot doot doot, lookit' all them spoon!  This one's the biggest of them all!  And what's over there!?


Oh man, Why's that one locked!?  Whatever could be inside it!?


OH MAN!  SCORE!  And what's that sound!?  That unlocking the fridge gave me enough EXP to level!?  WOOOOOOO

Aww yiss.  GETTIN' SMRT up in dis humpy-bumpy. Gimme dem SkillZ.

I feel smarter already!  Every time I level up, those extra skill points will really help me not suck so bad, so hooray for that.  What?  The tied up guy?  FINE I guess I'll go talk to Deputy Beagle.


Well Deputy Beagle's free!  However he doesn't want to fill the Sheriff's shoes; OR help out with the remaining thugs inside the Bison Steve.  I kinda didn't give him a chance with that though; since he supposedly knows where the folks that done what murder-attempted me went.  He's vehement about not telling me until we're out of here, so we're gonna go clear out the 2nd floor!

I mean I'm dressed like the sheriff and he's a deputy, might as well get our law-man duo on.

How will this end? Like Butch & Sundance in Bolivia? Tango & Cash in that weird pimped out SUV?  Maybe Riggs & Murtaugh with an explody-toilet?!

Come back next Tuesday to find out!

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The powers of persuasion, but also having a gun in your hand when saying 'Pretty Please'.

Ahoy there!

Last we left off, I'd just fixed Trudy's radio (and also stolen her entire bar, but I digress) and was off to catch some Zzz's.  But I was still hurting from that Gecko encounter before.  Sleep it off?  Enh. Drink out of the toilet because it isn't filled with irradiated water?  Best. Idea. Ever.

Look; ain't gonna lie; I've done grosser things than this.

OK that was nasty.  BUT full health so whatever.  Beats eating irradiated food until I have a healthy glow and my hair and teeth fall out.  Now, before I leave the Prospector Saloon, there's still a matter of Trudy's office and her safe.

Thankfully I don't have easy access to bobby pins, to try this at home.  PS don't do it.

Mmmm delicious safe-trappings.  Some whiskey, pre-war money (useless; Wasteland currency is bottlecaps.) and some 9mm ammo.  Trudy won't mind.  Probably.

Caught me takin' shit like nobody would find out.

Mr. Holmes somehow managed to see me pilfer a Sunset Sasparilla Star-Cap from an abandoned Doc Mitchell's house, in the dead of night, in total darkness, with no windows to the room.  'Fair enough, sir.  We trade quips; me telling him that following me is dangerous business (it is) and he that star-caps are currency so rare and special that only a mythical creature known as Festus at the Sunset Bottling Co. can cash them in, for rare and fabled treasure.  Whatever.  GTFO mah face, son.  Now, to go check out that abandoned gas station.

Ringo: Always getting mixed up with the wrong peeps.

So this is Ringo; he's a trader working for the Crimson Caravan Co. who's run a-foul of some Powder Gangers, specifically one named Joe Cobb.  And by run a-foul I mean they jacked his caravan, killed the brahmin & guards, took all his stuff, and now want Goodsprings to cough up Ringo here OR ELSE.  Because powder gangers are assholes.  They're also former members of a chain-gang of inmates at the NCR correctional facility not too far away, who've since overthrown the skeleton crew of guards, and now run the prison as their own personal base of operations.

Imagine some of the worst criminals in a society where killing and looting for survival is already a rampant and sometimes forgivable action, then equip them with plenty of explosives.  Ringo's convinced me that helping him out will be profitable!  And also the right thing to do, but mostly profitable!  I should go back to Trudy's waterin' hole and recruit the locals.  Specifically Sunny, since she's pretty good with a gun and stuff.

Laundry list of shit I gotta do.  THANKS SUNNY.

Sunny's real helpful alright.  She's OK with helping me out, but slow to act in getting others to raise a hand.  Y'know its only a gang of thugs armed with DYNAMITE and the criminal records to back them up using it.  ugh.  Let's get on it.

My jib; she likes the cut-of-it.

Well that was easy.  Maybe my high luck is payin' off after all.    Also *DING* LEVEL-GET!


Keeping to the theme; special dialogue trees with the ladies?  Cool!  Not too fond of that +10% damage to ladies too, but game mechanics et cetera.  I'm also equal opportunity in my indescriminate murdering of wasteland denizens.  Gender has no bias with me.  Chet (the sundries owner) is easily plied to our cause, however my brain isn't good enough at explaining to Easy Pete that I'm capable of handling dynamite so he sits this one out.  Which is OK since his solution to everything is throwing dynamite at it.  Against evil gents who are sometimes covered in dynamite themselves, that doesn't sound smart OR healthy.

Powder Gang a-comin' CHOO CHOO

If you get close enough to get shot in the head at 95% you're gonna have a bad time.

♫ Powder-Ganger... come out to plaaaaaaay ♫

'Overwhelmingly Monstrous' is a bit MUCH, considering the source, guys.

Goodsprings is saved!  HOORAY!  Ringo will no longer be mercilessly hunted from that particular group of Powder Gangers!  I however am now hated amongst the entire congregation equally, and will be sought after without remorse! ...hooraaay?

Well enough of that.  Tally ho!  Sunny mentions that the dudes who tried to off me were headed towards Primm.  So; onward!  But first, there's a rocky outcropping up ahead which looks like there's something ontop... just out of view...

I don't.  What.

I don't know.  There's 5 aces, 4 red balls, and a naked man.   This is some Twin Peaks shit.  Where's the backwards-talking midget.  Also what's that clicking sound?

Current Status: Frowny Face

That clicking?  improvised explosive device.  Bundle of dynamite with old fashioned alarm clock timer, just like in the cartoons!  It also has crippled my arm, and damn near crippled my leg.  Thankfully I've a bunch of doctor's bags to get that fixed.  That's how medecine works now.  rub a bag full of tongue depressors and a stethoscope on your leg, or inject yourself with a pinkish/reddish goop for health.  Hey man, I don't make the rules, or even pretend I understand them, but I'm sure as hell gonna enforce the shit outta them.


With my arm-thing fixed, we'll pause here before heading to Primm.  I hope I can find some new threads in Primm, because this 'Suave Gambler Hat' I found on a fridge-skeleton is Ill-fitting to say the least.  I feel so inadequate with it, you have no idea.  Also hopefully something better than a jumpsuit.  Jumpsuits are lame.

Next Tuesday: Primm!  I think!  Maybe! WHO KNOWS!?

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Doin' Goodsprings in the Neighborhoodsprings

Welcome back; stay a while and listen!

Last time we met, I had just exited Doc Mitchell's sprawling abode, ready to take on a harsh, unforgiving world.  The town of Goodsprings was mine to explore and begin leaving an indelible mark upon the wasteland itself!  ONWARD WITH THE EXPLORIN'.

Shooting in the eyes will definitely be happening

Random house had a BB gun outside, all ripe for the pickin'.  Cool.  YOINK.  Let's go see what's inside this abandoned nobody's there at the moment house.

I took everything.  Including the teddy bear.

Sweet.  Another BB gun.  I used it immediately to repair the previous one; wear & tear (especially on pre-war items) is a significant part of this game.  Everything you find is for the most part broken, or on its way to be broken.  I effectively scavenged one bb gun for the parts, improving the first one marginally so!  It's still however, a bb gun.  Which means its about as useful as harsh language in a knife fight.  Now to go traipse around that abandoned school...


WELP School's overrun with Mantises.  Mantis?  Mantii?  Whatever.  To save ammo (a precious precious commodity in the Wastes) I decide to get a little scrappy and toss some punches their way.  I figure Frank's gotten into a few scrapes in his hey-day, why not test out them dukes while the stakes are relatively low.

Time too retire, time too hax

A secure terminal, from which I could concieveably glean information from?  Gyoh-ho-ho-ho but wait, it's locked.  What does that even mean?

Follow the white rabbit, et cetera.
 OMG SO MUCH HAXX0rING!!111!!1one! w00t w00t.  The 'hacking' minigame is essentially Mastermind, with letters.  Varying levels of difficulty (Very Easy, Easy, all the way up to Very Hard) based on how much Science skill you have.  Each tier of difficulty, the security questions gets more and more complex, and you have less chances to get it in.

Aaaaaaand open!

Success!  Opened the safe, which had a gun in it.  In a school.  Well, as much as I don't agree with that, I do like that at least it was locked away from easy access from children who would be unable so solve a password request in 4 tries with hints given each attempt.

Ok that didn't make me feel better at all.  Off to the local watering hole, to satiate my thirst... my thirst for KNOWLEDGE!

Easy like Sunday mornin', lil'missy.  *WINK*

Well the welcoming committee is a crazy old man who has a dynamite fetish or something.  He's a former prospector, who in the Fallout universe, means he just scavenged what he could from rummaging around the remnants of the old world, bombed out and ruined.  Cool man cool.  I am a delivery boy.


'Sunny' Smiles, if that's her real name, comes recommended by Doc Mitchell.  Cheyenne was never mentionned, in that Cheyenne is also a pretty large mutt who immediately growls upon you entering the bar, getting into an attacking position.  Thankfully Sunny here doesn't let her get any further than that.

How do I wasteland?

Sunny's somewhat of an expert as to roughing it out there in the wilderness.  if Doc Mitchell's to be believed she'll give me a few handy lessons as to let me keep the vast majority of my vital organs and blood and limbs secure and stuff while venturing out past the secluded borders of Goodsprings.  But first, she needs to see what I can do.

Go. Hunt. Kil Botlz.

She hands me a Varmint Rifle, and tells me to have at them bottles.  Again, this is part of the game's slow introduction to game mechanics; Tutorialsville.  I could skip all this, but I like it!  It makes me feel invested in Goodsprings growth as a community, or alternatively ultimate downfall (if I so choose, mystery mystery hrrm hrrm hrrm!)

Satisfied I am able to murder innocent immobile bottles with impunity, Sunny asks me to follow her down to the wells, and hunt us some geckos.  Car insurance be damned in the future, gecko is back on the menu!

They're comin' right for us!

V.A.T.S.!  Or better-known as Vaul-Tec Assisted Targeting System.  This is the somewhat melding of Fallout's original turn-based strategy/RPG element in 3/4 isometric view heyday, brought over to the three dimensional free-roaming shooter RPG genre Bethesda have excelled at with the Elder Scrolls series.  Essentially it allows me to pause mid-action, and target specific body parts as shown, with varying degrees of success based on my stats/skill/environment/etc, for AP (Action Points).  Each shot costs X amount of AP, and its really self explanatory.

I could also go full-on first person shooter and use the gun's iron sights, but right now, I feel like letting the cinematic sweeping camera angles of VATS tell the tale of how this Gecko and I are gonna have a Jon Woo gunfight and stuff.

"I've made a huuuuuuuuuge mistake."

95% is the maximum chance available when in VATS, because who knows, life is weird that way, YOLO SWAG et cetera.  This one got close enough to start biting, but that means the closer we are together, the better the chances I have of hitting him in the noggin.  Combat is very much like love, in that respect.  Closer you are girl, easier I have it to hit you where it counts.  Mmm da heart.  YEAH GURL.  UNH.

Behold and despair; my handiwork at killing reptiles of peculiar size.

Well those two are dispatched; but wait! What yonder cry for help do I hear!?


Ellen DeGeneres sure is happy I saved her!  She refuses to take a selfie with me though, which makes me sad.  But y'know, at least I did something nice for someone, which is cool.  I'm cool like that.

+ 500 Reputation with the Wildhammer Clan (Neutral)

Yay I'm finally accepted somewhere, and all I had to do was save someone from being eaten alive by sizeably large reptiles!  If only getting respect and acceptance were that easy in real life!  I'd be going places I would.  Oh well, I can dream!  Hey what's that thing over there...

Lead-lined my ass.

Wild Wasteland hard at work.  It references this infamous scene, as there's a length of rope with the skeleton in there too, and an iconic hat as well.  Which is now my hat.  I'm wearing it right now.  Its quite comfortable.


By chance I wandered off to the Goodsprings cemetery where I was left for dead not too long ago, looking for clues.  All I found was a shovel and some graves that what needed diggin' up.  Inside those tombs, nothin' but ammo.  Which I gleefully looted.  GHOST BULLETS!  Who knows?!  Maybe I'll need'em to kill ghosts?  (Note: they're just regular bullets.  Any ghost-slaying properties I attach to them are solely fictitious in nature and have no outcome in regards to slaying the recently departed.  Furthermore, who knows what truly can kill a ghost, or if they can be killed at all.)

Nuclear Winter in the palm of your hand!

On the list of weird things I didn't expect to find in a graveyard: a snow globe of the town I'm currently in.  Somehow I think I should keep this, as it's just way too random to be here without having any purpose whatsoever later on.

A clear message in regards to what's in the distance, perhaps?

Bright Lights, Forbidden City.  New Vegas gleams on the horizon, lit up in neon splendor as a a sign tells me to not advance any further.  To be fair, the sign is because 20ft beyond it is Deathclaw territory.  If you don't know what a Deathclaw is, imagine the most horrible nightmarish creature you possibly can, then add more teeth and claws to it.  That.  Might as well head back to Goodsprings proper, maybe get some rest as it's night out now.

 Trudy's the owner of the Prospector Saloon; and she's mighty glad I helped out Sunny and saved Ellen from them Geckos, so she's not shy about letting me sleep on a cot in the back.  I notice her radio's busted, and she admits being unable to suss out why its broke.  Maybe I should take a look at it?  No harm in that!

Wait... what's that beyond the Radio there...

Swiggidy Swooty lookin' fo dat Boozy.


And so, that's how I stole everything of value in the Prospector Saloon after fixing Trudy's radio!  Next week, we deal with my favorite Beatle:  Ringo!