When I was a kid back in the ruins of Chicago there used to be this old codger of a ghoul who holed up about five blocks from the burnt out building I had lived in at the time. Whenever there was the chance most of the kids around there would go to his place and listen to the stories about how it was. How Chicago used to have millions of people living there, and the amazing things that you only now find heaped in the mounds of trash scattering the Wastelands. Sometimes he'd tell us about the country, something that had long since been replaced by blasted wastelands since the bombs fell. When I was a kid back in the ruins of Chicago I used to listen to the stories of the past and find them as distant as a fairy tale set in a magical world. Isn't that all they are? A fairy tale...