The Cat in the Power Hat
Once far ahead in a land full of dread, there was a cat who was in, who wanted out instead.
Sealed safely underground behind hard steel doors was no sanctuary for him, it was a life he abhorred.
A Schrodinger's existance was certainly not grand, he wanted out of this box, it didn't even have sand.
But worst by far was the daily menu of goop in a jar. He missed the days of real food made for a cat.
So, he plotted and schemed to come up with a plan, to see the light of day and get out of that can.
Being only a cat, no one batted an eye as he staked out the Overseer and started to spy.
After many long days of pretending to snooze he caught the Overseer asleep after having some booze.
So he looked in his locker and to his surprise a password was there, right in front of his eyes.
He took to the keyboard with paws so soft that it made not a sound as he tapped the keys off.
With a flick of the paw the submenu chimed and a secret tunnel opened and down the cat climbed.
The first trick was done but there was a glitch, security guards showed up with some hard metal sticks.
Of his nine lives, he spent one or two, but he zigged and he zagged and got past the crew.
The stunned guards stared in awe as he pressed the door switch mid-air with a paw.
No time for a bow, he streaked across the floor, with the klaxon blaring, he was out the steel door.
The outside was bright and it made his eyes blurry, they weren't chasing him now, there was no need to worry.
He was outside at last; you see it pays to be proactive, even if you do get a little radioactive.
Down the fractured pavement he flew like a flash, past empty Nuka bottles and big piles of trash.
It looked different now than he remembered, the houses were little more than piles of cold embers.
It would take more than burned homes to dampen his spirit, he was getting close now, he knew he was near it.
The Springvale houses held nothing for his heart. He wanted something more commercial, the Super-Duper Mart.
He trotted up to the parking lot and saw the front door but there were people here, who weren't here before.
These people looked scary and were carrying wooden bats, not a welcome sign to an unarmored cat.
He twitched his tail and crouched to his chest, these bozos might put an end to his quest.
But then something happend the cat hadn't conceived, one Raider smiled and got down on one knee.
"It's a cat!" the dirty Raider shouted. "It's the first one I've seen that isn't poached, fried, or mounted."
"Here kitty, kitty." the Raider said, extending a hand. "One of you guys go get me a can."
The Raiders and the cat became a band of brothers, for each had something to offer the other.
For tuna, the cat offered unconditional love. The Raiders had a can opener and opposable thumbs.
The cat was given a helmet from a BOS head. It curled up and fell asleep in it's new shiny bed.
The cat lived happily ever after but that vault was still trouble, it seems no one wants to live in a bubble.