I stood behind the man who held my contract disdainfully. Out of the frying pan, into the fire. I didn't understand how that dog could stand the stench of evil the man let off. Then again, that dumb mutt ate the flesh off of Raiders, and god knows what was in their systems. So it wasn't actually much of a surprise.
The man had a pink, yes, pink, Mohawk, and even went as far as to dye his facial hair the same, hot pink shade. He had a regulator's trench coat, but you could be assured he didn't earn it. Rather, he looted off one that had tried to kill him.
We stood on the balcony of Tenpenny Tower, though how on earth the man convinced the bigots to let me in, I did not know.
Two other men were on the balcony, both were sitting. The older one sneered at me, but continued speaking to the Vault dweller.
The other man was fiddling with some sort of detonator in a briefcase, and I had a vague bad feeling about it.
"Well, are you gonna blow that place sky-high or what? Hit it!" the Marauder of the Wastes cheered, dropping his empty vodka bottle over the edge.
Burke scowled, but said nothing.
I felt insanely uncomfortable. If there was one thing I wished that man would order me to do, it would be to shoot the both of them, right here, right now.
But no. he leaned back, to use me as something to lean on, to watch the show.
"Go on, Mr. Burke. Detonate Megaton."
I watched in horror, frozen, as a huge mushroom cloud bloomed over where Megaton used to stand.
He laughed like a hyena, doubling over. I just stared on in shock, and blindly followed him when he left to go do more evil.
"For good or ill, I serve you," I said before. For good or ill, indeed.