Won the lottery, so I'm gonna go on a Roman Holiday

Greetings, adoring sports fans!

Last we met, I was at the Mojave Outpost of the NCR, taking a selfie with ED-E and the two giant statues.  I am a 15 year old white girl who can't even.

Anyways; Nipton!  Its where I'm told the assholes who shot me were headed towards!  But I feel like exploring a bit!  So lets leisurely stroll towards Nipton, taking our time.  But before all that, let's have a quick sit-rep:

Survey says: stll a total asshole.  :/

Well I guess that means I've room for improvement?  Also I forgot I took some drugs back there one time to be strong enough to lug all that extra gear to the store and sell it.  It's not habit-forming, I can quit any time, I swear!

Ze plane boss; ze plane!

Semi-submerged plane!  NEAT!  Less neat were the brood of nightstalkers around it; you can kinda see one there.  Imagine a mangy coyote, with the head of a rattlesnake.  And the tail of a rattlesnake.  And the pack-hunting tactics of a coyote.  In fact, stop imagining all that, toss all that stuff into a box, label it NIGHTMARE FUEL and chuck it into the nearest, deepest, steepest ravine you can find, thanks.

Bringin' the heat; here comes the PEPPER.

So after dealing with that pack of wild [REDACTED FOR VIEWERS' SANITY] I stumbled onto a jalapeno patch!  Hells yeah gimme dem peppahz!  I can use it in some survival recipes or whatever; still missing some ingredients, but hey!  Always practical to have on you!

A day at the races...

Oh man, race track!  Maybe I'll find a sweet tuned up pre-war car in pristine / near-pristine condition (as long as its not Christine-condition nah'mean) and I can just ZIP around the mojave in style, comfort, and... style again.  Look, I might just mercilessly run people over too.  Moving on.  Say; what's that movement over there...

...a night at the operaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

HOLY MOLY WHAAAAAAAAAT AAAAANTS NOOOOOOOOOOO NO NO NO WHY ARE ALL BETHESDA ABLE TO DO IN THE MONSTER DEPARTMENT IS FUCKING GIGANTIC BUGS.  SKYRIM SPIDERS, FALLOUT SCORPIONS ANTS

WHY WHY WHY

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

"HEY!  You aren't immediately shooting at me, you must be a nice guy!"

Uh hi there buddy; yeah I don't care.  Sorry.  Nope.  Your girlfriend tried to kill you?  Sucks bro.  Married life, I tells ya.  Newp.  No.  Nada.   Wait what's that about star-caps?!

*hand-wave* You will not regret this first of two Star Wars references *hand-wave*

His gullibility is almost endearing.   Almost.

But enough so that I don't murder him outright and take all his stuff too.  Oh hey, convincing him to give me those star-caps got me a level!  Level-get!

♫ Makin' it raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaain! ♫

This should keep me rolling in caps well into the later stages of the game, and possibly a good buffer to try and build up at the local casinos around and in Vegas.  There's an achievement if you get tossed out of all the casinos, for breakin' the bank!  Might try it; though that means learning Caravan.  Maybe.

"One burning pyre if by the east, two burning pyres if by the west."

That's Nipton, but something's wrong; why are the Horde banners up infront of town.  The hell is goin' on in Nipton!?

OH HAI

OH. WELL GOOD FOR YOOOOOOOU.

 Who is this assclown.  OK well I know WHO he is; he's Oliver Swanick, a powder-ganger who seemingly has won the Nipton lottery.  Whatever that means.  He's very not keen on telling me ANYTHING of value, other than that he has won the lottery, and that his entire life has changed.  (Which coincidentally holds no value for me, information-wise.)  I let him run off, but shoot him dead in the middle-distance.  He's a powder-ganger after all.

"you sound like a choo-choo train."

Boxcars, mah man!  How's it goin'.  Who the hell are you.  What the hell happened in Nipton.

Harsh.

 Grim Reaper!? How dare the--oh.  Well Oliver Swanick and all the others, so yeah; OK.  I have become unto Death or some shit.  Whatever.  I ain't got time for name-calling and nitpicking.  Tell me what's been going on.

So Boxcars does!  He's the 'lucky runner-up' in Nipton's lottery.  Which seems to have been ran by Caesar's Legion.  Oliver was the 1st place winner, so he was given his complete freedom.  Boxcars here had, and I quote, "The fuck beat out of my legs with hammers, then left here to fuckin' die."  Well then.  3rd place folk were quickly rounded up for slavery purposes, and then it just devolves into beheadings and torture and bleh.

Boxcars mah man, you gots issues.

So I shot him in the back of the head.  Wait wait hear me out first.  Wait.

Wait wait.

Wait you're not listening.

I gave him 15 Med-X, and he had the indecency to not O.D. right then and there.  So I killed him and took my Med-X back.  I'm a big supporter of "Walk the Walk if you Talk the Talk."  I'd feel bad, but powder-gangers rank lower than radscorpions on my list, so whatever.  What's upstairs!?

So beautiful; should've sent a poet!

Feeding into my addictions once-more, game!  My fridge at home looks like this, except I also have butter in there or something.

Newest exercise-rage in the Wastes: Cross-fit.  **LAME JOKE**

Aww man.  That shit's harsh; but accurate.  I'm really beginning to begrudgingly respect sort of Caesar for his sticking to the Roman theme hardcore right now.  I mean he's still a slave-state misogynist warlord and has to die, but I admire his dedication to the bit!  Cosplayin' this shit like a CHAMP s'what I'm sayin'.

Anywho, up ahead is one of Caesar's cronies.  Let's see what he wants...

Legion of Super-Zeroes.

"I have a dog on my head; your argument is invalid."

So you cooked up a story so you could drop all these people in a meat-grinder.
"Basically; ...yeah."

WELP.  Only one thing to do then...

FUCK CAESAR. FUCK SALAD.

FUCK THE LEGION.  Blam blam blam, take that take that, UNH still shootin! STILL SHOO--

Current mood: bleeding out to death

...oh.  Well I won, at least.  I'm gonna need to use like two of those doctors' bags to get out of this jam though.  STILL don't know where my would-be-murderers went!  I guess I'll just follow the road east out of Nipton, see where that leads me.  Hold on, there's a house burning nearby...

SW Joke #2: Skeletons are named Owen & Beru in-game.

Oh my... *SAD HORN MUSIC*

WELP that's it for now!  Come back next week for some of that ol' RAZZLE DAZZLE and a jaunty trip up I-95 to our next tourist destination: NOVAC!

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.

microchips'n'dip

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.

WHAT HATH SCIENCE WROUGHT!?

 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...

GON' GET CRUNK.

Mother.
Fucking.
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.

Paydirt.

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...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH GIANT SCORPIONS EVERYWHERE ON SECOND THOUGHT LET'S NOT MOVING ON GET ME AWAY FROM THIS PLACE I DO NOT WANT TO BE EATEN ALIVE BY DEADLY GIANT SCORPIONS NO NO NO NO

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.

SEE YA NEXT TUESDAY!

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

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.

MENDOZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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...

THERE'S A RADSNAKE IN MAH BOOT!

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.

SPOOOOOOOON!

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

REFRIGERATORS!

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

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES

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.

I AM THE LAW.

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!