Chapter 2: Alcohol Never Leads To Bad Decisions

The Railroad HQ was currently experiencing rare moment of quiet. Or at least whatever passed for quiet in crowded quarters. Desdemona and PAM were hunched over faded maps planning the next delivery route. Tinker Tom was fiddling with the next MILA in hopes of finally finding evidence of the Institute's nefarious atmospheric manipulations. Drummer Boy was peacefully reclining on an aged couch before the mission while Carrington took inventory of his medical supplies.

Carrington leaned back in his chair. "This is nice." He whispered himself relishing in sweet blissful calm. Not emergencies or attacks, just calm.

A bang resounded around the room as drunken James kicked a door open, strolling in with a bottle Gwinnet ale in one hand while an amused Deacon followed behind."Everybody drop what your doing. We are going to take down Institute once and for all! I need all hands on deck! That includes you, doc. It's showtime people!"

Carrington briefly wondered what he had done in a previous life to deserve this. "And what is it that we are doing exactly?" He inquired.

The doctor was met with the gleeful response of "Dying!".

Silence filled the room.

"I'm pretty sure dying isn't how we take down the Institute. The actually sounds a lot like helping them."

"I'm going to have to agreed with Tom on this one." Stated Desdemona.

She was met with sarcastic role of the eyes. "I'm not actually going to kill you guys. I just need the Institute to think I've killed you." James gave Desdemona an innocent smile. "After all, the longer I stay in their good graces, the more information I can gather. The more information we have, the easier it will be to take them down."

"How do you plan to go about this?"

Jame sauntered over to Carrington. "I was thinking we could utilize the good skills of our favorite doctor. There's a lot of raiders in the Commonwealth. Some of them have to look similar to you guys. That combined with facial reconstruction should give us look-a-likes."

Perhaps he had caused the Great War, pondered Carrington. Surely that would justify this mad man.

"PAM, what are the odds of this working?" asked Desdemona.

"There is 55 percent chance of success."

"We'll try it."

"I'm curious. What's going to be our cause of death? I better have an awesome death. Something dramatic. Explosions, you know, something cool!Go big or go home." exclaimed Deacon.

"I was originally planning to kill all of you guys in your sleep with a med-x overdose. It would be quick and painless. You're my friends and I won't want to you suffer".

James was met with a hug from Deacon. "Nice to know you care! Only a true friend was contemplate how to kill us so kindly."

"Or I could just blow the place to hell so that there are no remains. I got to do something with all the extra explosives I've got lying around."

"Let do explosions. Explosion are good." confirmed Deacon.

The doctor simply mourned the loss of sanity and peace.

(A/N: I love comments. Praise or criticism, I welcome it all!)