"Patrolling the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter," I said aloud to myself. Joining the NCR, while keeping me from going hungry, has also made me go insane. I had no idea the kind of things we'd be dealing with. The bandits, the shit weapons we had, the shit weapons they had, the heat - oh dear Gary up above, don't even get me started on the goddamn heat. It was enough to drive you insane.
I walked along the side of the road, heading back to base. It was hot out, but when the hell wasn't it? I was supposed to be patrolling, and being out that in heat? Shit, it makes me wish for a nuclear winter. Haha, I'll have to tell my buddies about that one, they'll probably get a kick out of that.
Arriving on base, I went directly to the basement. The majority of the NCR was there, and were all standing up and talking. 'This is my chance,' I thought to myself, 'I can finally be funny.'
Walking up to my group of friends, I patted him on the back. "Whew!" I yelled, wiping my brow of sweat, "patrolling the Mojave almost makes you wish for a nuclear winter."
The room exploded in laughter. Everyone was laughing and having a good time, and started saying my joke to each other, causing everyone who didn't hear it to start uncontrollably laughing. Smiling and walking to my bed, I listened in on the conversation.
"Man, did you hear that... Nuclear winter! Ahaha... Patrolling the winter, er, shit, I mean..."
I had started an inside joke, and I was damn proud of it. All I could hear around me was either roaring laughter, or roaring voices repeating my joke. I sat down in my cot, and laid back, feeling accomplished today. Sure, the bandits I had been tracking had found and skinned some innocent couple, but damn if I didn't tell a good joke.
I began to imagine what the world would be like if everyone heard my joke. There'd be no more bandits, no more gangs, no more anything, just the Giggle Squad, full of everyone on Earth. I'd be famous. With dreams of glamour and glory, I slipped into a slumber.
The screams of my friends awoke me, but they were no longer screaming with laughter. They were screaming with horror, and I soon figured out why. The entire barracks was shaking, people screaming and grabbing whatever weapons they could find; it was unlike people to attack in the middle of the night, like they were right now. No one was exactly prepared for it, but we could at least act like we were.
As we all lined up at the doors outside, ready to charge into what likely would be our doom, the rumbling stopped, and you could only hear loud and hearty beats on the roof, and then they stopped. We counted down from twenty-three, and charged outside, ready to fight. My friends took cover behind the old broken down metal, and I ducked into plain sight (the enemy never suspects you to be there!), and waited for the orders - haha, just kidding, we all began shooting at whatever was in front of us indiscriminately.
"Wait, stop you guys!" yelled my friend who I had first told the joke to, "Look! Its snowing!"
We all looked up, and was amazed at what was happening. Small, white snowflakes that were cold as ice were falling, and gently landing on the ground. "Aw man, if only it'd stick!"
"Shut up you numbnuts, it is!" Once again, we all looked down in surprise and saw that a thin layer of snow was building up. We all started cheering, taking off our light gear and hugging each other, happier than a pre-war kid in a pre-war snow. But the happiness wouldn't last too long, as we heard the rustling behind us.
We all turned around to see it and...
I was wrong. The happiness was still going.
There stood, six feet two, probably over three hundred pounds, a chubby, red-cheeked Santa Claus! We all started squeeing in delight as he pooled out a bright red stool, sat down on it, and put his bag next to him. He patted his leg, gesturing for us to sit down.
"Ho ho ho, son, what would you like for Nuclear Wintermas?"
"Oh sir, oh boy, I'd be so-oh glad to get a brand new Crowbar! Mine's almost been broken for weeks now, and we don't have any duct tape to fix it!"
"Hmm, lets see what I have... Oh, what's this...?" Santa asked suspiciously, pulling out a brand-new crowbar.
"Santa, its so beautiful! Thank you so much Santa!"
"No problem kiddo. Next!"
We immediately looked around and realized no one had formed a line. We began scrambling, pushing and shoving to get the best spot, but even though I had brought on this miracle, I was at the back of the line.
After hours of excruciating pain, it was my turn.
"Say, boy-o, what do you want for Nuclear Wintermas?"
"Oh Santa, well..."
"What is it, son?"
I was struggling to find the right words. I knew what I wanted, but I couldn't figure out how to express it without seeming overly-excited, or overly-stalkerly, or, worst of all, needy.
Oh screw it.
"Its always been a dream of mine to be a Tunnel Snake, can I have their hair and jacket and jeans and glasses and -"
"and switchblade, if that's what you want sonny!"
Santa pulled everything out of his bag, and gave it to me. I didn't even say thank you; I rushed inside to put this all on. After I finished adjusting the wig, straightening the jacket...
Oh yes. It was exactlty what I had wanted. I broke down in tears, and ran outside. I saw Santa getting on his sleigh, with many other of my friends crying too. He took off before I could say bye, and I heard him yell as he began to ascend.
"Merry Nuclear Wintermas to all, and to all a good night!"
And a Merry Nuclear Wintermas it was.