On a certain Legion occupied fort in the middle of a certain lake, a certain Roman Emperor wannabe sat on his throne, furious at the news that was being told to him… well, more furious than usual.

"Vulpes… I'm asking you one. More. Time." The certain wannabe said in a low, angry voice. "How many of my well trained, deadly, able to annihilate a small army assassins did He kill?"

For his part, the fearless leader of the frumentarii, Vulpes Inculta, was effectively shitting himself in terror. "W-well you see, oh mighty Caesar. As I said earlier, countless assassin squads were sent after The Cou-, erm, Him. All of them ultimately failing in their mission to slay Him in your glorious nam-"

"How. Many. Killed?" Caesar viciously interrupted him, grabbing the frumentarii's chestplate. Bringing both the men's faces only inches apart.

"Of c-course, oh great Caesar. A-hem, let's see here…" Vulpes slightly stuttered, slowly regaining the cool yet menacing composure that he was known, feared, and, to the frumentarii's discomfort, lusted for. Vulpes barked an order to some nearby Legion recruits to fetch the list of casualties, adding that if they didn't come back soon with the list, the slave women weren't going to be the only ones who were getting mounted. Suffice to say, the recruits rushed out of Caesar's tent, grabbed the list from the intelligence tent on the other side of the camp, and flew right back into the tent in record time.

"Hmmm, eight seconds flat… you recruits can do better." Vulpes coolly remarked, putting away his trusty stop-watch for another recruit torture session later, an event that Vulpes no doubt relished. As the Frumentarii leader flipped through the list, he could not help but notice Caesar tapping his foot impatiently. A gesture that made Vulpes, as well as Caesar's Praetorian guards who stood their vigil, shift in discomfort. You do not keep a man like Caesar waiting.

"Well! How many? How many of my loyal assassins died at His hand?" The all mighty Caesar finally yelled out, the pain of his brain tumor aching like… a brain tumor irritating him greatly.

To Vulpes' dismay, his stutter returned "W-well, Oh great C-Caesar. The numbers aren't too exact for me to calculate-"

"What? A hundred? A thousand? How many zeros from the main number?"

"… The zeros take up the whole page…" Vulpes finally admitted, both in awe at the fact that this many squads of assassins, so many that they could have made an army or two, were so easily taken out by one man and in horror as he saw that Caesar looked like he was about to impale someone… and realized that he was the closest one in range.

Sometimes Vulpes thought, I really wish that He had killed me at Nipton…


Meanwhile, miles away from The Fort, in an isolated NCR outpost that was overrun by Legion assassins, with almost all the NCR troops stationed there dead or being raped by said assassins… possibly at the same time, a courier sneezed.

Aww great, I've got enough to worry about as it is. Now I've got a goddamn cold to put up with! Matt thought in annoyance, Oh well, I'm not gonna let you beat me here, Gonorrhea!

And with that obviously intelligent thought, our obviously intelligent protagonist stood up from his prone position under a nuka-cola machine and darted for the nearest door, his custom modded assault carbine cradled in his arms. Poking his head out to check if the coast was clear, Matt slowly stepped out of the VIP snack room and into the blood covered hallways of the outpost.

Looks like the first floor's clear, which means that those dastardly assassins must be searching the second floor. Matt thought seriously as he munched on a chocolate bar.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the sound of footsteps coming towards the VIP snack room. Opting to go ninja on whoever may have be unfortunate enough to get a snack at this time of night, Matt dove into a nearby room and listened in on the mystery person.

"Aww dude, this mission is such a drag" A voice rang out through the halls. "Seriously, there's no hot and/or dead soldier chicks anywhere! What's a guy gotta to do to get some putang around here for Christ's sake."

From the other room, Matt narrowed his eyes in distaste, tightening his grip on his assault rifle. Hmm, obnoxious, loud, uses the word "putang". That doesn't mean I can kill this guy… yet.

And so, Matt continued to eavesdrop on the guy. "Ugh, calm down, Steve. Just get a snack, prop up a chair, and chill till this mission's over. You'll be back in The Fort, surrounded by dozens of cute slave chicks, and Brad will be there waiting for ya… ahhhhh, Brad. Pfft, one hell of a first mission this was, ha!"

Unfortunately for Steve, who was too preoccupied with his thoughts about orgies and Brad, he didn't notice our hero stealthily creep up from behind him, holding out his rifle like a baseball bat.

"Man, I wish I was at the fort with Brad now. Plenty of slaves to have fun with… I wonder if he'd ever join me-" Steve's thought was tragically cut short as the butt of Matt's assault carbine smashed right onto the left side of Steve's head, spinning the legionnaire around. Amazingly, the helmet that was atop Steve's head managed to absorb most of the blunt of the blow, managing to keep Steve dazed, but still standing. Unfazed by this, Matt followed up with a vicious upward strike at blinding speed, managing to connect with the Legionaries' jaw and even managing to propel Steve's body upwards a couple of feet. Before it finally crashed down in a sickening thud that echoed throughout the halls.

"Sorry, noob. Don't worry, your body will get the respect that every Legion body should be treated to" Matt announced stoically as he mercilessly tea-bagged the legionary's corpse.

To Matt's utter surprise, Steve's "lifeless body" coughed. "Nghh… ah, there you are… I should've known… that you were gonna show up, ugh… sooner or later…"

The fact that Steve struggled to utter every word told Matt that the assassin wasn't going to live for long. Bending down, the courier asked "Alright you, where the hell are rest of your butt buddies?"

"Pfft hahaha! The rest are upstairs…! But it won't matter; the reinforcements that Caesar sent should be here soon!" Steve manically laughed, despite the massive amount of pain that he was feeling. "Hahaha! I don't care about your reputation… You have no chance against a fucking army! Haha!"

"W-what? Army? Reinforcements? Butt buddies? What the hell is going on?" Matt managed to stutter, the information that was flooding his already small, crammed up head made him nauseous. But before he could question the assassin more, Steve closed his eyes forever, muttering, "I'll be waiting for you… Brad."

Shit! Now what am I supposed to do? Oh, Randy, I wish you were here. Deathclaws always know what to do! Matt worriedly thought, panicking at his hopeless situation. In desperation, he frantically searched his backpack for anything that could take on an army- at least buy him some time to grab Grace and escape. What do I do? What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?

By some miracle, Matt found the answer. As he checked his backpack, he managed to find a large pile of C-4 that he kept in his backpack, along with the detonator. An idea started forming around his head as he looked around the aged building. It was a pre- war building, it wouldn't take much to demolish it.

Fortunately, The Courier knew exactly what to do.


"Okay, okay. How bout' this…?"

"Ugh, would you give it a rest already, Veronica?" Cass groaned, "We talked about this already, Matt's going to be fine, he can take care of himself. Right, Boone?"

Boone responded by solemnly shaking his head, simply saying, "No"

The trio had managed to make it back to the Lucky 38 with no trouble, their discussion on their dim-witted leader followed suit. They were now all relaxing and playing cards on The Courier's bed. Because they knew that He hated that.

Veronica, in response, crossed her arms and pouted, "I know. It's just that-"

"Look, sure he failed fourth grade math while he was in high school… and pretty much every subject including common sense" Cass soothingly interrupted, "But give him a low caliber pistol and a grenade and he can take on a swarm of cazadores!"

"well yeah, but-"

"I was with him when he decided to charge at a mierlurk king to try to eat it, screaming that he 'loved sushi'…" Boone begrudgingly interjected, a hint of respect in his voice. "… he succeeded"

Annoyed, Veronica stood up on top of the bed and said rather loudly, "Okay! I freakin' get it! He's a mentally challenged god! But what if he went to the NCR outpost, found most of its soldiers slaughtered by the Legion, who had a lot of reinforcements on the way, and the only thing he could do was rig the whole place up with explosives! He would survive, right!"

Surprised at Veronica's sudden outburst, Boone and Cass exchanged a glance.

"Not a fucking chance" the two calmly stated in unison.


Meanwhile, our favorite med-x using NCR soldier Grace was busy trying to stand up… for the 18th time in a row.

"Grrr, stupid random ass guy, falling in love with me and abandoning me to run off and save the day…" Grace said to herself, occasionally cursing from the pain of trying to stay upright. "Seriously! Who does that!"

The thought that the only time someone actually fell in love with her was when she had a machete shoved into her gut depressed Grace. "Oh? So I'm only beautiful if there was sharp object sticking out of me? Pfft, typical, Grace, goddamn typical"

As you can see, she tends to get depressed easily.

Grace's emo thoughts were interrupted however, by Matt unceremoniously kicking down the closet door.

"Grace! My love! No time to talk, everything around us is going to get very explode-y!" The Courier yelled, "We have to get out now!"

Before Grace could even mutter a "Whaaaaaat?" Matt picked her up bridal style and the Grace soon found herself being carried as Matt sprinted across the hallways. As they ran, they heard the main doors on the other side of the building being busted open, as well as the sounds of several footsteps as well as several voices shouting in Latin. The Legion had arrived.

"M-Matt? What's going on?" Grace asked, hanging on to her dear life.

Matt smiled down at her, and gently kissed her on the forehead, all the while running like a bat from hell. "It's all right, Grace. Fireworks show, that's all."

The kiss made Grace's face blush beet red, that didn't stop her from noticing the Legionary assassin that was at the end of the hallway waiting for them though.

"Matt! Live one straight ahead!"

Without missing a beat, Matt waited for the last possible second before jumping up and drop-kicking the assassin, sending the legionary's body crashing into a nearby wall before crumpling to the ground. The unlikely duo gave out a whoop of cheer, high-fived and sped out the nearby door. They ran as far as they could, up a nearby hill a couple of miles away from the compound. There, Matt gently laid Grace onto the soft sandy terrain before pulling out the detonator and aiming it straight towards the compound.

"Looks like they're still searching the place." Grace observed, "I think they need something to brighten up their situation. Matt, would you kindly?"

The Courier grinned, "My pleasure."

And with a single press of the trigger, the whole outpost erupted. Bright orange flames spewed out of every window and entrance as the numerous explosions ripped through the building. Cracks appeared throughout the exterior before they split apart, tearing down whatever supports the building had left. And with one final, massive groan, the building collapsed, burying anybody who managed to survive the explosion with it.

As the Matt and Grace watched the destruction, Grace could not help but turn to her savior and ask, "So… is this like a common occurrence to you?"

The Courier couldn't help but stare his new friend in embarrassment. "Uh, yeah, usually. Come on with me to the Lucky 38 Casino, I've got a couple of friends that I want you to meet."