He walked into The Prospector late at night, wearing a duster, an old hat and a .44 at his hip. It was all ready odd that he had come in this late at night, but there was one fact that really stood out: He was no older than Seventeen.

"Nuka-cola Quartz ma'am," The boy said, sitting down on a stool."I would prefer if it were cold, but I will take whatever you have ma'am." He added. Trudy looked at him oddly. His hat shaded half of his face, but his chin and lips were that of a boy. His duster was worn, as was his hat. She reached for the last Nuka-cola Quartz she had and handed it to him. "I'm sorry son, but I only have a warm one." She said, her accent thick.

"Where you from boy?" An older gentleman asked a few seats down from him.

"West." The boy said after taking a sip from his cola.

"Well who're you travlin' with?" He asked.

"No one sir, I'm by myself." Trudy was ready to jump in.

"They got Super Mutants and Cazadors, it's dangerous to be alone." She exclaimed. The boy simply looked at her.

"I thank you for your concern, but I can handle myself." He said.

A man previously unseen came over and sat next to The Boy. His leather armor was reinforced and relatively new, as was the Assault Rifle slung on his back.

"Well I'll be damned, look what we have here!" The man hollered as he began to laugh. The stench of alcohol was on his breath.

"We got ourselves a Big Man right here!"The man said, putting an arm around the boy.

"Sir, I would prefer that you did not touch me." The Boy said, containing his rage.

"You need to loosen up, how bout a round?" The man smirked, getting closer to The Boy. He pushed the drunk away from him.

"I ain't sure how you handle things out west, but out here we respect the man about to buy our drinks" He said. He took out a switchblade from his pocket.

"Looks like I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson."

The Boy finished his drink and set the bottle down.

"Sorry, class is out of session." The Boy stated. Before the man had a chance to understand what had been said, The Boy took his bottle and smashed it against the man's forehead as he fell back from the seat and landed on the ground.

"You son of a b-" The man stuttered as he got up, but was met with the handle of The Boy's .44 Magnum. The man fell back down. The boy turned and started out the door.

"What, son, what's your name!" Trudy called out.

"I don't have one." Was the reply.

Edit: I was re-reading this, and my first impression was "Oh God Why" So I (Hopefully) fixed it. Enjoy-Ray