001: A Flask, a Brick, & A House


Excerpt From Radio New Vegas - "An Interview with the Man who Shot the Courier"

The Mojave Wasteland

2287

Mr. New Vegas: Now, onto the real meat of the interview, yes? The Courier? Have you seen from him, heard from him?

Benny Siegel: Nope, haven't heard a word. Not since he spared my damn life. Still can't believe it myself.

Mr. New Vegas: Yes, sparing your life even after you put a bullet in him and left him for dead seems...odd. What's your take on him, as a person?

Benny Siegel: Heh, as a person? The kid was cool. I mean, anyone who can pluck Caesar's head from his body and live to tell the tale is a killer in my book. He never wanted to be a hero, either, I can tell you that. He just got sucked up in the wrong game, and made the best of it. If you're somewhere in the Mojave, kid, I gotta say...I'm sorry for trying to kill you.

Mr. New Vegas: Yes, I'm sure he'd appreciate the apology. Any last words on the Courier?

Benny Siegel: Let's call him by his name, hmm? I just gotta say, Alabaster was the bravest goddamn man I've ever met. And if he's listening, I hope he's doing alright.

-x-

"Well, that's quite the endorsement, eh?"

That jolted him awake.

The Courier, was in fact, not doing alright. His head was beating like a fucking drum, and he couldn't see for shit. His hands were tied, and his mouth was gagged. Oh, the nostalgia.

It took him a moment, but after some time, his vision returned and he could see the predicament he was in a bit more clearly.

Two figures stood before him. One was tall, and had a rather brutish appearance. His face was heavily scarred, he was balding, and his left eye looked like it was falling out. It was fucking disgusting. Wearing what looked like an old Vault jumpsuit, he was physically intimidating, but Alabaster doubted he had any mental prowess. Beside him, stood a shorter, yet far more composed looking individual. Donned in a black tuxedo, he simply exuded control.

They were in a dimly lit room (more like a shack), that was bare, except for a small inn table in the corner with a radio. The interview with Benny had just concluded. Alabaster was tired of hearing the damn thing, they had been repeating the segment ever since it first aired, about a month ago. He could give two fucks about Benny and his apologies. He had far larger concerns.

He had minding his own business, spending his days in Goodsprings, far off the grid, when he was assaulted, captured, and brought to this shack in the middle of God-knows-where.

"You must be wondering what you're doing here, Mr. Courier." The shorter man said, spacing out each word, letting it simmer.

Alabaster tried to speak, but the gag prevented anything other than unintelligible mumbles from being heard. The taller man chuckled.

"Ah, yes, the gag must be quite annoying. Brick, would you please remove it and allow our honored guest to speak properly?"

The taller man, known as Brick apparently, removed the Courier's gag and stepped back over towards his companion.

Alabaster could finally breathe. "What do you want with me?"

The shorter gentleman smiled. "Yes, an excellent question. But first I'd like to introduce myself. I am Cornelius Flask and I'm a businessman, of sorts. And you...you are my product."

Alabaster grunted. "Your product? What the hell does that mean?"

Cornelius flashed a grin. "That means, my dear boy, that I plan to sell you. A peculiar gentleman offered me a very large sum of money to, eh...procure you. And now here you are."

"Someone wants to...buy me? As in, slavery?"

"I prefer the term, "indentured servant", but if you wish to barbaric...yes. Slavery it is. All we must do is wait for the buyer, who shouldn't be too long now."

Brick laughed. "He's a fuckin' odd one, too."

Cornelius shot him a disapproving look. "Excuse Brick, he's a bit of a simpleton. The man is very distinguished, and I believe you've met him before...in some capacity."

Alabaster was about to reply, when there was a knock at the door. Two rapts, in perfect succession. Cornelius strode towards the door, and swung it open with a creak. A man stepped into the room.

It took a minute for Alabaster to realize who he was looking at, but then it hit him. It was...but it couldn't be.

Robert House, in the flesh. Suit, and tie...everything. He flashed a grin at the Courier.

"I told you once before, Courier. The House Always Wins."


Author's Note: I know, incredibly short. Later chapters will be substantially longer. I look forward to uploading chapters for you guys...assuming I gather a readership. Until next time!