"Well, well, well, I'll be damned. TWO Vault Dwellers! Didn't expect I'd see the day."

Sam and Amata entered Megaton, and were greeted by an African American man, whose face wasn't much cleaner than Mickey's wearing some type of Leather Duster, a ten-gallon hat, and a star shaped badge on his chest with an assault rifle to his back.

"You two must be from that Vault, Vault 101. Man, I haven't seen one of those jumpsuits in a long time."

"How'd you guess?" Amata asked.

"Welcome to Megaton. I'm Lucas Simms, the Mayor, and Sheriff too, when the need arises." He said, welcoming them to the town. "I don't know why, but I like you two, you give off a good feeling. You ever need something, just holler."

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Simms." Amata said, shaking his hand. "I'm Amata, and this is Sam."

"Hi." Sam said, shaking his hand, rather hesitantly.

"Freindly and well mannered, well ain't that rare." Lucas Simms said. "Just follow the rules here, and I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

"Right. Message received." Amata said.

"Now that that's through, is there anything I can help you with?" He asked.

"Well... actually..." Sam said, rather quietly.

"Yes?" Lucas Simms said, turning to Sam who practically flinched at the man's word. Amata looked at her best friend, and understood something. Sam had lived in an extremely closed eniroment. The result was that he was incredibly shy around strangers.

"I-I'm looking for my Dad." Sam said.

"What does he look like?" The Sheriff asked.

"Here's a picture of him." Sam said, digging into his pocket, and producing a photo. "This would have been about nine years ago. He's middle aged now, about this high" He said, putting his hand about the same height as himself.

"I'm sorry, a lot of people come through here, I don't have time to keep tabs on every fire." Simms said, handing Sam back his photo who grunted in pain as he took it. "I'd ask around town."

"Well, in that case, could you point us to a doctor? My friend got hurt as we were leaving the Vault." Amata said.

"Just head down the steps here, and down to the crater, it should be to your right. Doc Church's a little gruff, but he'll fix you up." The Sheriff said.

"Thanks." Amata said, leading Sam down the steps. "We're gonna have to work on your people problem."

"What problem?" Sam asked.

"You couldn't say two words to that guy. We don't need anyone here thinking your the psychotic quiet type." Amata told him.

"Okay, let's just go stop by the clinic, and go one step at a time." Sam said.

The two kept going down the steps, and then looked up at small metal monument sitting in a small pool of water, put there as if to to testify death and destruction.

Sam grunting in pain again brought her back, and then looked to the right to see a small metal shack and headed toward that, and through the door.

"You better be dying if your in here." A gruff voice said.

"Look, my friend got shot, and he's been bleeding awhile." Amata said.

"Okay, let me take a look." A man came from out of a room, he had wearied look on his face, as well as a disapproving look in his eyes. Sam turned around to the man, and showed him his wound. "Take off your shirt." Sam looked to Amata, who nodded, and pulled down the zipper of his jumpsuit, and took off the upper part of it to reveal the Doctor his back. Meanwhile, Amata did her best not to look at his front. "I hesitate to even call this a wound."

"He was shot at!" Amata exclaimed.

"Big whoop." He said. "I can see your runaway's from that Vault. Little tip, your not supposed to bother me. If you are, you've got to be near-death. That includes cancer, mutilation, a broken spine, on top of a broken leg, or growing another head, until then, stop bothering me."

"Well, are you gonna treat him or not?"

"25 Caps." He said.

"What?" Amata asked.

"I said 25 Caps. That's my price."

"What are caps?" Amata asked.

"Caps. Cash. Moola. Deniro. Money!" He said upon seeing her blank expression. "Forgot who I was talking to. Bottlecaps."

"You use Bottlecaps as money?"

"Everybody does these days." He told her.

Amata dug into her pack, and pulled out 3 Bottlecaps. "These are all we've got, but we could trade for rest of it?"

"Depends on what you got. Keep that shirt off." He told Sam who was trying to put his shirt back on.

"How can you charge money for health care?" Amata asked as she rummaged through their bags.

"Well, I guess in a perfect world, health care would be free. But, the walk from the Vault to here is long enough for you to know it's not a perfect world.

"Well, actually, we found this earlier, in a mailbox. We thought it was medicine, but we're not sure." She reached in Sam's bag, and showed him the red canister Sam had found.

"Not medicine, not even close." The Doctor said, taking it from her, and examining it.

"What is it?" Amata asked.

"Jet, extremely addictive drug." The Doctor said.

"Whoa." Amata said. It was a good thing that she kept Sam from using it.

"I can use this though. 17 caps. Still need five more." He told her, putting away the Jet. "Anything else."

"Umm... I guess you wouldn't be willing to trade for alcohol, would you?" She said, producing the bottle of whiskey she brought with her.

'A bottle of Whiskey for five caps? I'll take it.' He thought to himself. "For such a pretty little thing like you, I'll make an exception this one time." He said.

"I'll try to sell some of the stuff we found while he's working on you, okay?" Amata said. Sam nodded. She kissed him on the cheek and headed out the door.

"Umm.... hey, can I ask you something?" Sam said as the Doctor looked over his equipment. "I'm looking for my Dad, came out of the Vault recently. Here's a picture of him. He's about my height, middle-aged."

The Doctor looked over his shoulder and at the picture for a second. "Well, if he did come here, he could take more punishment than you. Now, I have a question for you: Your not a screamer, are you?"


Amata stepped outside, and looked at the iconic tool of destruction. that stood in the center of town. She tried to ignore it, and moved on. She headed to a quaint little restuarant, and stood by the counter. She saw someone talking to someone else inside the resturant.

"I'll just be a sec Andy, just stand there and take orders." Said a woman's voice.

The man just grumbled.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for directions." Amata said.

"Oh, I guess I do look like a fucking sign post." He said to himself. He turned around to see Amata, but his demeanor changed abrubtly. "Oh, sorry about that."

"I don't really appreciate that kind of language." Amata told him.

"Yeah, well you... dress funny." He said. "Wait, I'm sorry, I've been in a bad mood today. You wanna go on a date?"

Amata was taken aback, but told him, "Sorry, just came into town with my boyfriend. Anyways I was hoping you could point me to the nearest general store."

"Oh." He said, sounding rather put off. "You'll want to see Moira, at Craterside Supply. She's above the clinic, just take the ramp up there."

"Thanks." She said, following his directions. It felt rather nice when she saying boyfriend.

She walked around the clinic, and up the ramp, at the top she was given a clear view of the center of town. The building she had been directed to, had some large conical piece of scrap on top of it, with the words Craterside Supply written on the bottom, as well as beside the door.

Amata entered only to be greeted by an acrid smoky smell, and a large amount of coughing. "Oh, don't mind the smoke!" Someone said. "It's safe to breath! Really! Oh... where'd I put that fan? Oh here it is! Right next to the Yao Guai skull..."

"Goddamnit! You don't pay me enough for this!" Another voice said.

With a click, and a whirring, a fan turned on and started funneling the smoke through a window. The person whom the first voice belonged to, whom Amata could now see was a woman, went around the building opening some more windows, and turning on the ventilation system, while the owner of the second voice was a gruff looking man leaning against the wall. As woman messed with the A/C Amata stepped up to the counter, and looked at the wares available. Most of it was junk, but one piece in the middle intrigued her. It was a modified Vault-Tec issued Vault Suit.

"Oh, hey, you must be one of those Vault Strays!" The woman said, coming up behind the counter. "Oh, I haven't seen one of you in years."

"Wow word sure travels fast here." Amata said.

"Oh, well Lucas Simms just stopped by and told me about you, you see. Anyway, I'm Moira Brown, and I run Craterside Supply. Though I do a lot of experimenting and tinkering on the side." Amata looked at the woman. She was wearing a jumpsuit of her own, but much different from hers. Her hair and skin seemed much cleaner than Lucas Simms and Doc. Church. Though there was something about the way she talked that seemed off. "Oh hey! I've been working on a book about the Wasteland, and it's be great to have the forward by a Vault Dweller, what d'you say?"

"Sure, I'd probably have a lot to say about life in the Vault." Amata said, seeing no harm in doing so.

"Great." Moira Brown said, listening with heavy anticipation.

"I was the Overseer's Daughter you see. The Overseer is the person in charge of life in the Vault. He was a little strict. Actually, he was very strict. But then again, it was enough to put up with. But today, things got worse. A lot worse. The Doctor left the Vault, and somehow he just snapped. He ordered someone to capture his assistant to see if knew anything, and since he didn't, they just beat him to death. Then he got me to see if I knew anything. I've always been best friends with his kid Sam, but since I didn't, he ordered me to be beaten. Then Sam came in. He shot the man who was hurting me, and we managed to escape. In fact we only just confessed our feelings to each other as we were leaving."

"Wow, now that's quite a story." Moira said. "I mean, you'll hear something along the lines of my Dad went psycho on me and my boyfriend every now and again, but not quite in that context."

"Yeah." Amata said, trying to keep down her emotions.

"That'll be great for the book. Hey, maybe you could help me with some of the research."

"Well, what exactly is you book gonna be about?"

"Well, like I said, it's gonna be about the Wasteland, and how to survive in it. You don't want someone dying out there because they make a mistake right? Nobody ever likes that. No. Then the just start yelling. At me. With mean, mean words. I'm still working on the title, but I've got a good feeling about it."

"Well, okay, guess I can help." Amata said. "Haven't got much else to do. It'd be nice to have something to do. I can't make a full commitment though, I'd have to clear it with Sam."

"Great, I've been looking for a new assistant for ages!" Moira said. "The first chapter is going to deal with day-to-day dangers."

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know the usual, finding food and meds, radiation, and landmines. That sort of thing."

"Um, excuse me?" Amata said. "Um, how about we start with Radiation."

"Well, it's why I need an assistant right? I've read a lot about what happened to the places that got bombed before the war, Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Tel Aviv, Berlin, all that, and of course the theory of mutation, and how it applies to the modern day, but I've never gotten a live example, least not for too long."

"I'm sorry miss, but I'm not sure what I'd get out of getting irradiated." Amata said. For a Vault Dweller, radiation was one of your worst fears.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll have a tall glass of rad-cleansing Brahmin milk for you when you get here. Well, actually mostly lots of Rad-Away, and Rad-X, and some of my home made concoctions."

"Well... I'll just put that off until later then. Back to why I came here, I need to trade some of the things we brought with us."

"Okay, I'm open for business." Moira said.

"Alright... how much for a bottle of Whiskey?"

"Oh that'll fetch around ten Caps."

"Ten? That Doctor took it for five."

"Oh, you'll be getting that a lot, there's always gonna be someone out there trying to make a quick buck."

All in all Amata managed to scrounge up seventy caps, with the Pre-War Money making up most of it to her surprise.

"Well, it makes good kindling, you can wad it up to block leaks, and in the unlikely event that the Enclave manage to restore the world to it's former glory, you'll already have some money to spend." Moira explained.

"Well, anyway it's a rather good start." Amata said. "I just hope it can last the two of us."

"Well, if you need some caps, I heard Walter has been looking for someone to do some odd-jobs."

"Oh, thanks. Hey, wait, shouldn't you pay me for helping you with your book." Amata pointed out.

"Well, living the life of a trader, I can't always afford to pay someone in Caps. I was thinking more like chem's med's, a few unique inventions, and the occasional box of ammo."

"Basically whatever you can afford."

"You saw right through me!" Moira said. "However, I can ensure that you efforts will be worth the reward."

"Okay, oh and one last thing, like I said, the Doctor left the Vault too, we're looking for him, did you see him come through here?"

"Well, there was this one guy I hadn't seen come through. He was wearing a white coat, so I couldn't see a 101 on his back if he had it. He was going to Moriarty's Saloon when I saw him."

"Thanks. Better get going."


"DEMON DOCTOR! DEMON DOCTOR!" Sam screamed, as he clawed his way out of the clinic.

"You know what, I've changed my mind about you, come round any time." Doc Church said, standing by the door frame.

"Stay-stay back! I've got a gun, and I won't hesitate to use it! I'm a cold-blooded killer too!"

"You wouldn't be the only one." The Doctor said, returning into his clinic.

Sam looked around as the people who walked around kept walking as if her were invisible. Sam got up himself, and walked over to a small restuarant and sat down at the bar. "Tell me, it is normal when you pay a Doctor in Whiskey for him to drink it as he's fixing you up?" Sam asked no one inparticular.

"Hoooo wheee! Look it you! Now I haven't seen one of those Vault Jumpsuits in.... wow! Long time. Pretty damn good condition too." Sam turned to see who was speaking. It was a man, too old to be in his twenties, but too young to be in his fourties talking to him. We wore some kind of leather jacket with a belt across his chest with various pockets, as well as a dewrag on his head, and a goatee on his chin. And an eye-patch. The last time Sam had seen an eyepatch was in an old swashbuckler film during friday night movie time. He missed the Vault.

"I'm-I'm sorry, and you are?"

"Names Billy. Billy Creel. You call me Billy, a'ight? I know Megaton looks more like a boneyard than a town, but it ain't all bad. Take me and Maggie for instance. We make do just fine. I trade the stuff I scavenge, and Maggie keeps me no the straight and narrow." He said with a slight chuckle.

"Um... I'm sorry, w-who's Maggie?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, kinda got ahead of myself. Maggie's nine. Sweetest little young thing. Best thing that ever happened to me too. We take care of each other. I ain't never had a daughter before, but if I did, I'd wish her to be Maggie. I took her in when Raiders killed her parents, 'bout two years ago." He said, staring off into space. "It was a pretty bad scene, small settlement up north, I'd stopped in to trade some salvage... and the whole place had been wiped out. I'd found Maggie hiding under a bed, in the same room her parents had been butchered. We've been together ever since."

"Wow." Sam said. "And I thought my life sucked."

"Aww, it ain't so bad now. One thing I've learned in my life: It can always be worse. What happened to you."

"W-well, y-you see," Sam said hesitantly. "Well, you know I-I came out of the Vault. I woke up, and s-sirens were screaming. I had been told Jonas, a good friend of mine had been killed by the guards. I had to leave, o-or the same thing could happen to me. I saw people die, I almost got killed, and I killed someone who was beating my best friend. And that was all this morning." Sam said. "I'm still trying to accept it, but, yeah, your right, it could be worse."

"How d'you figure." Bill asked.

"I confessed my feelings to the girl I love, and she felt the same way. One hell of a kiss..." He muttered. "A-anyway, what c-can you tell me about Megaton?"

"I have to say, it's gotta be the best town in the Capital Wasteland, and don't let anyone tell you different. And I'd know, been lot's of places. Strong walls, strong people, and strong booze!" He said, poking him in the ribs. "We've got everything you need to make a life these days."

"What about the area outside Megaton?"

"All I can say is I spent too much time out there. Beyond that, I'd rather not say."

"So.... w-w-what do you d-do around here?" Sam asked.

"Me? I deal with the Caravan's. I use to hang with them, so they cut me some slack. Helps keep the town supplied. Aside from that, I take care of Maggie. Though, I guess she is getting a little old for ol' Billy to look over her shoulder. Though, I have been trying to get this ol' Motorcycle running. Been a pet project for me for a while now."

"I see." Sam said.

"Heres you water Billy." The waitress said, handing Billy a cup of water.

"Mighty appreciate this Jehny." Billy said, taking the glass. "You know, alot of people bin saying that the purifier's on it's last legs." He said before taking a big gulp. "This is proof it's just as good as ever. Ol' Walter's been keeping that thing running for decades, no reason for it to shut down now. No reason to worry. Thank's for the food." With that, Billy got up, put some bottlecaps on the counter, and left. "Later 'gater."

"By the way, the answer to your question is yes."

"Huh?" Sam turned to look at the speaker, who turned about to be none other than the waitress.

"The answer to your original question is yes 'it is normal for the Doctor to drink during an operation when you pay him in whiskey',"

"Oh, t-thanks."

"Now, I know I haven't seen you around these parts before." She said. "I'm thinking your here just to visit, right? Always have people come'n through here, trying to settle down. Anyway, if your hungry, your welcome here at the Brass Lantern at any time."

"W-well a-actually I'm looking f-for my Dad." Sam said, taking out his picture. "Th-that's him about nine y-years ago, he's a-about my height, and middle-aged."

"Aww.... your looking for your dad? That's so sweet. Did he run out on you when you were a kid?"

"No, ran out this morning. Caused a whole lot of trouble. Did you here that story I told Billy?"

"Yeah."

"That started when he left."

"Man that bites. Our parents died when we were kids. My brother Leo was the oldest, he raised Andy and me. It was hard on him, but we turned out okay. Oh, but you probably don't want to hear about that. I'm sorry, I don't think I've seen your dad."

"Thank's anyway. H-hey, what can you tell me about this place?"

"Some people hate. Leo sure does, but that's his right. Me, I want food, water, and a sturdy roof for when it actually does rain. That's what we got here."

"Mhm-hmm."

"Although I guess to you, this place is rather shitty."

"I-I wouldn't say that." Sam said. "I-I mean, I should be glad that we actually found some civilization at all. A-actually, I-I heard about these Raiders, I should be glad I didn't meet any of them."

"Yeah, you probably wouldn't last two minutes against one of them. Little tip, never, ever, ever! Trust one. It doesn't matter how they act, if you think you can trust one, that just makes them that more dangerous." The waitress told him.

"Wow, you sure seem to know what your talking about." Sam observed. "So you've dealt with one before."

"Yeah. I guess you can say that." She said, looking off into space.

The two stayed like that for a while in a rather uncomfortable silence.

"Here me now, I speak the truth of the past- present- and our future! Hear His call in His holy land!"

Sam turned to see whoever was talking, and found an old man clothed in rags, standing in the puddle that surrounded the monument to death.

"He calls us to the Division! He calls us to his Holy Mission! We are the descendants of those who he deemed unworthy, make your forefathers proud to call you their owns, as we back in his Glow!"

"Um... who the heck is that guy?" Sam asked.

"Oh him? That's Confessor Cromwell. Head of the local Doomsday Cult." She said, upon seeing the blank look on his face.

"Well, hasn't D-Day already come and gone?" Sam asked.

"That's kinda the point." She said. "They thought the War was some holy event, and they pray that the bomb will explode and take us out of our misery or something."

"Hmm." Sam muttered, taking it in.

"Every eye will be blinded in his glory, every ear stricken deaf by his appearance, and all of our twisted flesh wretched from our bones for his divine cause!"

"You know, he comes out every day and goes through this routine, yet I've yet to really listen to him." The Waitress said, taking away some dirty plates from another customer. "Of course that doesn't mean I'm going to any time soon." She said upon coming back. "It's bad enough that we're living in a world that we've blown up. Bad enough to be reminded about it."

"Come to us, and be Divided! Each of us wants to leave this putrid existence, no? Come to his Alter, and be God to a trillion new Worlds!"

"You know, part of me wants to know what he's talking about."

"Uh-huh."

"Though the rest of me is saying stay the heck away."

"I'd listen to the rest of you. If I were you."

"Y-yeah." Sam said, turning back to face the counter.

"There you are." Sam turned once again to see Amata walking towards him. "Feeling better." She asked, sitting in the seat that Billy Creel sat in not to long ago. She leaned over, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, hey Amata." Sam said, blushing horribly. "Oh, uh, by the way, if I get shot up again, as opposed to sending me to that Doctor there, I want you to shoot me in the head."

"You should have seen him on the way out." The Waitress said, giggling, to Sam's humiliation. "He acted as though he was clawing his way out of hell."

"The Doctor's that bad?" Amata asked, beginning to feel bad for having left Sam there.

"Well, I'm guessing he offered you some pain killers right?"

"None."

"Just as well though. He either would have used some Med-X and you wouldn't feel anything for the rest of the day, or he would have gotten you so drunk you would have fallen down from your walk over here."

"Well, I guess in retrospect it was a good thing he didn't, being underage, and all..."

The Waitress just broke out laughing, to the bewilderment of the two teens sitting at the counter, and the annoyance of the one other patron.

"Hey, can I get my food now?" The man asked. The Waitress was still laughing her head off, but when inside to fetch the customer his meal.

"What was so funny?" Sam asked. Amata just shrugged.

"Here's your food." The Wairtress said, handing the man his noodles, inbetween fits of giggles. "I'm sorry." She said to the couple. "It's just that I had my first swig of beer when I was eight. To think the two of you..."

"Well, it's just that in the Vault, drinks are hard enough to come by, and well... I can only imagine what my Father would do to me."

"Pfft, Leo told me Dad gave him his first beer."

"Really?" Amata asked shocked.

"And he was four."

"Wow." Sam muttered.

"A-anyway," Amata said, hoping to change the topic, "I'll make sure not to leave you with that Doctor anymore, okay?"

"Thanks."

"Oh, and while I was selling our stuff, the storekeeper told me she might have seen your Dad."

"She did?" Sam asked, all attention focused on her.

"Um... yeah." Amata said, almost taken aback at his change of attitude when she mentioned this. "She said she saw someone with a white coat come through. It's the best lead I've got. How about you?"

"I haven't gotten anything." Sam admitted.

"Anyway, she told me he was going to some place called Moriarty's." Amata said.

"Um, excuse me," The Waitress said, trying to rejoin the conversation. "did you say Moriatry's?"

"Yeah, you know where the place is?" Amata asked.

The waitress looked around, as though nervous someone would overhear. She leaned over the counter between the two before talking. "Look, it's not the people, it's not the workers, it's not the booze, but it's dangerous there. Whatever you do, don't trust the owner." WIth that she got back up, and leaned against the wall. "You go up the ramp that leads to the Church, and keep going up, it'll be the big building that says Moriarty on it."

"Thanks." Sam said, sheepishly.

"Well we may as well get going." Amata said.

"Th-thanks. For everything." Sam said, getting up from his stool too.

"Oh, and how about I get you something to eat next time!" She said as they left.

The two walked past the metal structure that had failed to play it's part in the end of the world, and up the monastary erected to worship it. Up they went until they reached the Saloon with the name Moriarty inscribed over it.

Sam looked leaned over the railing, and looked over the town. From this point, he could see almost everything. He looked to the horizon and saw that the lights were dimming. The ceiling to the west had been painted a deep blood red color. Fitting for such a day they had been through.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" Sam looked to his left and saw a young woman, probably the same age as they were, running up the ramp towards them.

"I *huh* don't *huh* suppose you *huh* two are new in town, eh?" She asked, trying to catch her breath.

"Uh, yeah, we just came-" Amata started.

"Great, cause *huh-huh* I need someone to do a job for me." She said. There was some sort of look in her eye that told her she was going to have to hear the whole story before she left.

"Uh, Sam, why don't you go ahead of me?" She asked.

The boy nodded, not wanting to get into whatever was going on with the girl, and opened the door to the bar, and headed inside, not knowing what to expect.


"Aghhh.... come on you piece of junk, work! Everyday, it's the same damn thing..." Some gravely voice said, accompanied with a view thuds. Sam just kept his head down.

"I told you Gob, it ain't the radio. Enclave station come in loud and clear, it's Galaxy News, their signal's been shit lately." A woman's voice said. Sam just made his way to a barstool. A lot like the ones from the Vault, except these were covered in all kinds of dirt and grime.

"Come on... why *thud* ...won't *thud-thud*...you *thud*...work!" He said, banging on it again for emphasis. "Wait... is that? Goddamnit."

'It could be because you keep hitting it.' Sam thought to himself.

"Just give it a rest Gob, your not going to get anything." The woman said again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the woman saunter off into a corner.

"Hey there, would you like something to drink? Anything at all?" The gravely voice asked him.

"Oh, ah, not just yet- GAH!! FUCK!! What happened to YOU!?" Sam had looked up at the bartender, and was met with the most disturbing thing he could ever have imagined, the sight caused him to fall off of the stool. The bartenders face was rotting. He was the image of an old horror film they used to watch in the Vault. Parts of his flesh had peeled off, revealing the muscle, and some bone underneath, particularly around his mouth, his lips were non-existant. His nose had been reduced to but a red nub, and he could see a few nose hairs going back and forth as the man breathed. His eyes were deeply sunk into his skull, the eyes themselves were pale, and menacing. What hair he had left on his head was the texture of straw, and was plastered on here or there.

"Ah shit, you made me spill my drink you bastard!" The man who had been sitting next to him yelled.

"What? Never seen a Ghoul before?" The bartender asked.

"W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-hat'ssss a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-....."

"Ghoul?"

"Eep." Sam managed to squeak out, nodding.

"Hey, shuffler! Get me a new drink." The man who had spilled his drink told the bartender, slapping him for emphasis.

"Here you go. Hope you choke on it." He said, handing him a new glass. "You okay, smoothskin?" The bartender asked, reaching over the counter to help him up. Sam looked at his hand nervously. His nails were a dirty brown, and it looked as if Sam grabbed his hand, it would slip off. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed on to the bartender's hand, who with surprising strength, pulled him back up to his feet.

"S-s-smoothskin?" Sam asked nervously.

'From your reaction, I'm sure you noticed my face looks like ground Brahmin meat don't it?" Sam nodded. 'What's a Brahmin?' "Well, for those not in the know, not everyone was able to cosy up in cosy little Vault." He said, eyeing Sam's Vault Jumpsuit. "The rest of us got the light of thousand suns, and full on blast of heat and radiation. Far as I can tell, we age slower than you, a lot slower. Would you believe that circa 2077 that I was about 14?" Gob looked only a few years older than Sam.

"Wow." Sam said. "Um... where you from?"

" ...place called Underworld. One of the few safe places for us. I went out into the wasteland, oh, 25 years back? I wanted to find adventure, and fortune... and I found this place."

" ...still though, can't be all that bad." Sam said. "You alive, you've got a job. That's a lot better alternative, than what happened to everyone else a few hundred years back."

Gob looked at Sam as though he had grown a second head. Given the fact that it was a post-apocolyptic wasteland, it wasn't that strange a look though. Soon though he softened, and said: "You know, your alright for a wastelander. Moriarty would have my ass in a sling if he found out, but for you, I'll risk it. Come back anytime. And you'll be getting a discount."

Sam smiled. He had just made a friend in post-apocolyptia. That was a good thing, right?

Just then Amata walked in with a sigh. "GAH!! FUCK!! What happened to YOU!?"