CAST & VOICE TALENT

• Alexander Luthor ~ Chad Johnson, Bear
• Kenneth Vigue ~ Narrator
• GUEST: Pete Hines ~ The Judge
• GUEST: Ferret Baudoin ~ The Archivist
• GUEST: Neil Kaplan ~ BIV
• GUEST: Chris Ciulla ~ Lucky Lou
• Sean Baptiste ~ Brooks Calvert
• Lady Devann ~ Atomic Alice
• Tooniversal ~ Damon Toon
• t0nik ~ Crane
• Jessica Duval ~ Susie/Ella, Betsy, Salontron
• Keemo Provorse ~ Donkeyman, Mutant #3
• Clint Winberry ~ Moose Miller, Dogbreath, Mutant #2
• Andreas Somville ~ Carnival Barker
• MsKnowHeart ~ Sheena
• Demetrius Hazel ~ Munch
• Dylan Kane ~ Raider Punk
• Joel De Jesus ~ Raf
• Sophia Hauswirth ~ Wren
• Christian Mower ~ Punch, The Night Wolf, Mr. Handy, Mutant #1
• Fenwa Teryen ~ Charles Bishop
• Jessica Marie Dickey ~ Patsy Parker, Announcer (Pulowski)
• Dr. Mark Hauswirth ~ Slick Willy, Baldrick (Handy to the Archivist), Caller #1, Raven
• Kevin Chenard ~ Mamma Murmrgh, District Attorney Fletcher
• Robert Solomon ~ Lord Simeon (Aristocrat), Razorhandle (Raider)
• Robyn Meif ~ Roper (Free Radicals Leader)
• Ray Middelthon ~ Commander Johns
• Ashley Jaye ~ Meg
• Kayce Baker ~ Ratchet
• Mary Kalopedes-Saunders ~ Overseer
• Joseph Picard ~ Albert Vince

 

MEDIA: COLD OPENING DIALOGUE MUSIC

KEN:                      This is Kenneth Vigue, and we’re back with episode 15 of season 2! Firstly as a New Year dawns, I find myself looking back at how far we’ve come and thank each and every one of you who have been with us since the beginning and those of you who found us more recently. I am eternally grateful for your support and am excited to begin revealing the Machiavellian chessboard of where we are going and it starts with this episode. This year’s Halloween special also was something a little different, a horror anthology with different types of stories than what you’ve been used to from us. In all honesty I was scared at what you’d think and was pleasantly surprised that it has become our most listened to episodes of all time. For that, I thank you…I love writing horror and an anthology format of bite size snapshots into the darker depths of the world was both fun and freeing. This episode opens with something very special and to get it right it required me to revisit a place I haven’t been to in years, but felt like going back home again: Fallout 3. It was my entry into Fallout and for me, the moment when I emerged into the Wasteland, with the glare fading away and Washington, D.C. opening up below me is a singular one in my experience of gaming. We are joined this time by some returning very special guests: original Fallout 76 voice actors Neil Kaplan who voiced BIV and Chris Ciulla who voiced Lucky Lou join us for these episodes and the remaining episodes of our season, the ad revenue of which is going to charity. Bethesda’s Pete Hines returns as The Judge, as does Tooniversal as Damon Toon. We are also, joined by the late, great Ferret Beaudoin. If you follow us on socials you’ll know that longtime Bethesda Game Studios designer Ferret Baudoin passed away in October, after recording lines for this episode and our next episode. He loved voicing the Archivist and his family has very graciously allowed us to use his voice posthumously in tribute to his memory. Thank you to the Beaudoin family. These episodes are dedicated to an incredibly kind, genuine man that I wish I’d had the pleasure to know even more. Now…gather close as the Capital Wasteland drifts into view beneath green skies. Past Vault 101 which still is sealed up tight, and a crater that is not yet Megaton, there is a dust cloud approaching the outskirts of D.C. Impossibly there are vehicles careening through the rubbled streets. Listen with us now as we’re about to see a bank heist that went terribly wrong…as we learn more about a chess piece on the board for Appalachia’s finale battle that looms on the horizon. A raider named Atomic Alice.

SCENE 1: WASHINGTON, D.C. RUINS - EXT. NIGHT.

SFX: LIGHT WIND. GROANING METAL. RADIATION SPIKES. RADIO POPS AND FLICKS TO LIFE PLAYING END OF CRACKLY OLD TIME SONG. IN THE DISTANCE THE RUMBLE OF VEHICLES. THEY SCREECH TO A STOP. MOTORCYCLE REVS UP.

MEG:                     Washington, D.C. What a shithole. Wratchet!

SFX: MOTORCYCLE RIDES UP.

MEG:                     Where the hell are we?

WRATCHET:        Fucked if I know. This map that scavver drew with god damned crayons isn’t entirely accurate.

MEG:                     You probably shouldda keep him alive then…

WRATCHET:        Meh. Didn’t like his face.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What’s the hold up now? Ol’ Wrench Face lose her way again?

WRATCHET:        (through clenched teeth) Meg I swear to God I’m going to cut her…

MEG:                     Lay off her kid. Now’s not the time. Keep your eyes peeled Sheena.

SHEENA:              We need to move Boss, we’re vulnerable on these side streets. Hey! Dipshits! You guys scout on up ahead.

RAVEN:                Yell a little louder Sheena, Christ those supermutants are all over this damned place. Keep it down! Come on Wren, let’s clear the streets ahead.

RAF:                       Go off with your papa nina! Try not to shoot any of us, si?

WREN:                  Okay Dad! I’m ready.

RAVEN:                Safety off kid (laughs)

WREN:                  Whoops! (laughs)

ATOMIC ALICE:  Jesus Christ just read a street sign. Corner of G Street and Executive Ave! It’s not rocket science.

MEG:                     Executive Ave…ohhhh shit! You know where we are? If there’s anything left…SCAV of the century.

SFX: RUNNING ON CONCRETE.

SHEENA:              Stay together damn it!

RAF:                       Hey Sheena, way to round up our corillo. (laughs)

SHEENA:              Shut up Raf, dumb ass cafee.

RAF:                       Caffe? (laughs) You mean cafre? Spin the wheel and try again chicka

SFX: RADS TICKING.

WRATCHET:        Hold up! Stop! Whole block is rad city. We go any further and we won’t need flashlights ever again.

MEG:                     Damn…have a look at the seat of Democ-RAH-CEY. From White House to green crater…

ATOMIC ALICE:  Damnnnn! Direct hit. Not much left.

MEG:                     Shit on a shingle that would’ve been amazing…think of the tech they would’ve had down in there.

SHEENA:              Boss…I’m tellin’ yah we need to move.

RAF:                       Yeah Boss I agree, we gots to move.

MEG:                     Yeah yeah Sheena…gimme a minute. Hell. Lemme see…if memory serves me correctly Penn Ave should be right up ahead. We bang a left and our MARK is on the right.

WRATCHET:        I’m with Sheena…we need to get a move on. Those Super Mutants aren’t like the pussyfoot ones back in Appalachia. These bastards are tough…I’m not looking forward to crossing paths again.

MEG:                     Neither am I girl…we get in, blow it and get the hell out. Quick and easy.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What’s with all the caution tape? Let’s just blow through there…blow the face off the damned building and if anything comes lookin’ for trouble, let’s crater ‘em!

MEG:                     You keep that trigger happy rad shooter on your god damned hog double A! I’m NOT askin’ again. We’re not havin’ no repeat of your Bunker Hill stunt.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What can I say? I saw a face I didn’t like.

WRATCHET:        Oh ha ha.

MEG:                     I don’t need to roll back and repeat…do I?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Yeah yeah…

MEG:                     DIEHARDS! REV ‘EM UP! ROLL ‘EM OUT!

RAF:                       Weeeeepppppaaaa! Let’s goooo!

SFX: VEHICLES START. ACCELERATE DOWN THE STREET.

WRATCHET:        BINGO! BANGO! BONGO! Look what we have here! Pennsylvania Avenue!

SFX: SCREECH OF TIRES AROUND CORNER. GRAVEL FLYING.

SFX: VEHICLES SCREECH TO A HALT.

MEG:                     Knees and elbows Diehards! Gather round. Tonight. we take this talllllll ass concrete lady for a night on the town! Meet the Metro National Bank. Of the 5 banks in good old D.C., she was the biggest bitch around, but before she was the Metro…Munch! Where you at!? Time for a little history lesson. Tell them what you told me.

MUNCH:              Well now let me see. Ah yeah, so before this here building was a bank it was something far, far more important: The United States Treasury Building. Before Fort Knox was built back in 19 something or other, all of the U.S. government’s gold and silver reserves were parked right here. Now don’t let this concrete lady fool you, because behind those windows sits one of the greatest vaults ever made. Not only are we talking gold and silver, but this is where the government kept its most valuable treasures and secrets. We’re talking historical artifacts, rare paintings…

MEG:                     I told you before, I ain’t interested in Lincoln’s Yard Sale leftovers…we’re in it for gold, silver and jewels.

MUNCH:              But that’s not all! Oh no…see there were rumors back before the war of a book passed down from President to President. Forget what you know about this country friends! In that Book of Secrets is not only the answers to our country’s greatest mysteries, but we’re talking a global conspiracy of invaders from outer space!

WRATCHET:        You been hitting Lex’s chem stash again? You mixing fun time shoot em ups with whiskey? Jesus…aliens my ass…

MEG:                     Yeah okay pops. That’s enough of that shit. Save those tall tales for Punk or Pretty Pete.

MUNCH:              The truth is out there I tell yah!

MEG:                     No. It’s IN here. Punk! You and Alice stay here and keep our exit covered. I don’t want no surprises.

PUNK:                   Oh uh. Geez you bet! Love the fresh air out here anyway…even with that rad green tinge you know?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Babysitting duty? This is bullshit! You’re taking Nurse Wratchet and Grandpa Moses in there and you’re benching me?

MEG:                     Yeah and I gotta tell you kid I’ve just about had enough of your mouth. You can either park it or beat it. You got a problem we’ll settle it later.

ATOMIC ALICE:  More likely later you’ll be too busy knocking boots with Johnny.

MEG:                     What did you just say?

RAF:                       HO HOOOOOO! I love this kid man, she got a gold set of cajones.

SHEENA:              Look I love a good domestic like anybody, but we’re losing light thanks to Wratchet getting us lost.

MEG:                     Shut it you two. Lou! Lou where you at?

LUCKY LOU:        I was takin’ a leak…

WRATCHET:        Smells more like you were drinking gasoline…WHOOOO!

MEG:                     Grab your gear and get your drunken ass on up here.

MEG:                     Wratchet, Sheena, Munch, Raf, Lou, Raven and Wren…with me.

ATOMIC ALICE:  WREN’S GOING? Are you kidding me? She’s 16!!! Why does she get to go on all the raids?

RAVEN:                Because she hasn’t blown cover or blown shit up double A.

REN:                      Awww….so sad. Maybe next time (sarcastic) “Atomic Alice” (laughs)

ATOMIC ALICE:  Oh that’s it…

SFX: FIST FIGHT

MEG:                     ENOUGH! Both of you. We’re gonna have a little chat later, you and me to come to a final understanding. You dig?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Oh goodie.

RAF:                       Esto en un mamey.

SHEENA:              Yeah…eassssssy money.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE. DOOR SMASHED. OPENED. SILENCE. PAPERS BLOW DOWN STREET.

RAIDER PUNK:   So…uhh…crazy times eh kid?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Yeah… (sarcastic) crahhhhhzy.

SFX: BOTTLE OPENED. CHUGGED.

RAIDER PUNK:   Hey! I got an idea…while we wait…we could uhhh..play a game or something?

SFX: BOTTLE THROWN AND SMASHED. ALICE BELCHES.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What kind of game?

RAIDER PUNK:   Ah…geez I dunno…maybe I spy?

ATOMIC ALICE:  What am I 5? I spy with my little eye green. Lots and lots of green. Everything is green.

RAIDER PUNK:   Things kind of suck lately huh since that Johnny dude shows up out of nowhere. Yeah…I don’t trust that guy either…or Hal. I’m not liking…the signals they put out you know? Bad business…those two got an angle.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Look around. Most of them have an angle. I earned my place at her side after everything we’ve been through. But him? He just shows up like some slick shit in some stolen raider gear and just about the worst acting I’ve ever seen in my life…gets found out and instead of putting some metal between his eyes, SHE GOES TO BED WITH HIM. Who does that? She’s always on my case now…listenin’ to HIS advice. Dude tried to butter me up with some sweet rolls like he was trying to be my zoot suit daddy and I told him off.

RAIDER PUNK:   Yeah I get that…it’s all noise though. Static. Me? I listen to the airwaves…they are still out there. When everyone gets loud, I grab my headset, listen to the static and ride the airwaves. Talked to this dude last night up near Boston on a SUBMARINE. Can you believe that? A Chinese submarine! Had trouble understanding most of what he was talking about but we chatted a bit about ghosts and ufo’s and shit. Good dude.

ATOMIC ALICE:  A submarine? That had nukes? Kickass. Once MOLL-E is fixed up, I’m gonna hit the road and start my own raider gang. Maybe find my old man and smack him around for ditching us. I’m sick of being treated like a kid. I’m bored. This is boring…hey want to play hide and go seek!?

RAIDER PUNK:   Uhhh…geez we’re supposed to watch the door.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Watch it for what? It’s dead city down here. Come on…I’ll let you go first. 50 caps I can find you in 5 minutes or less!

RAIDER PUNK:   50 caps? That’s a bet! No cheatin’ though!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Cross my heart and swear on my Fat Man…

RAIDER PUNK:   Okay cool, cool…close your eyes! Count of 50 for 50 caps!

SFX: RUNNING.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Alright alright…start movin’! 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 you’d better find a good spot because I’ve got Eagle Eyes! 21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 28…whatever. 50! Ready or not…here comes Alice.

SFX: WALKING ON PAVEMENT.

SFX: EXPLOSION INSIDE BUILDING. GLASS SHATTERS.

ATOMIC ALICE:  There goes the Vault! She’s losing her touch…I would’ve had that thing nuked wide open by now.

SFX: CAN KICKED. WALKING ON PAVEMENT.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Come out, come out wherever you are! Hmm…Punk didn’t have enough time to book it down the street…Metro Station? Well lookie here…the old D.C. metro system…tin can rattlers for suits and politicians.

SFX: METAL CRASH.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Smooth move Rad Lax! I heardddddd you! You hiding down in the subway!? Man you must really want those caps! Even I wouldn’t head down into the maze of death.

SFX: METAL STAIRS.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Man, what I wouldn’t give for a working escalator. Used to love riding these with mom…

SFX: METAL GATE CREAKS OPEN.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Ollie ollie oxen free! Look Punk I’m not getting lost down in this hole.

SFX: HEAVY FOOTSTEPS.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Had enough! Come on out of there!

SFX: GRUNT.

MEDIA: DRAMATIC CHORD.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!

MUTANT #1:      Ah hhha haaaa! FOUND YOU! NOW YOU DIE!

SFX: MINIGUN BLAZES.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Eat rads booger lips!

SFX: FAT MAN LOADED AND FIRED. MASSIVE EXPLOSION.

SFX: GOREY SPLAT

ATOMIC ALICE:  10 outta 10!

SFX: ANGRY GRUNTS AND HEAVY FOOTSTEPS RUNNING.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Oh damn….

SFX: GATE OPENED AND SLAMMED. GUNSHOTS BLAZING.

ATOMIC ALICE:  PUNK! PUNK! I GIVE! RUNNNN!

SFX: PULOWSKI DOOR.

ANNOUNCER:   Pulowski! Nuclear protection on a budget!

RAIDER PUNK:   Oh nice! Rad I won!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Let’s go! We need to tell Meg!

RAIDER PUNK:   What’s the manic panic?

ATOMIC ALICE:  SUPERMUTANTS!

RAIDER PUNK:   I shoulda stayed back at camp.

SFX: GUNSHOTS AND MINIGUN PINgING OFF CONCRETE.

MUTANT #2:      HOLD STILL! NOW YOU DIE MEATBAG!

MUTANT #3:      Want more! KILL! DESTROY!

RAIDER PUNK:   Uhm…I didn’t bring enough bullets for a full on firefight! Where’s the nukes?!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Damn things jammed…come on….

SFX: METAL CLICKING.

ATOMIC ALICE:  The hell with it. A little duct tape….and a live grenade outta set this off.

MUTANT #2:      Gotta shoot you dead! Eat you up!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Eat this! FIRE IN THE HOLE!

SFX: GRENADE TOSS. NUKE EXPLOSION.

RAIDER PUNK:   Rad! One down…umm….more coming out of the subway! That’s too many! We’re gonna be overrun!

MEG:                     You dumb ass old liar…place was cleaned out! And that ain’t no U.S. Treasury!

MUNCH:              Oh…well…ehm…the rumors said…and you know what? My bad! It was the building over there.

SFX: MISSILES FIRE. EXPLOSIONS:

MEG:                     What in the hell…WHO POKED THE HORNETS NEST!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Punk did!

RAIDER PUNK:   WHAT?! No I…

WRATCHET:        Light em’ up! Protect the rig or we’re gonna have to walk out of here!

SHEENA:              Raf, get the rig started! I’ll cover you!

RAF:                       Ah Puñeta…

RAVEN:                Wren! Get down! Stay behind me!

WREN:                  Okay Dad…

SFX: TRACTOR TRAILER STARTS.

SFX: HORN BLOWS.

MEG:                     Let’s go! Move your asses!

SFX: GUNFIRE CONTINUES.

MEG:                     Lou! Lou! What the hell are you doing?

SFX: LIGHTER STRUCK. DYNAMITE LIT.

LUCKY LOU:        Calm down…I’m already a walking corpse. Hey! Right over here fellas! CATCH!

SFX: DYNAMITE TOSSED. EXPLOSIONS.

LUCKY LOU:        YEAHHHH! Alright!

SHEENA:              Lou get in the damn truck! You got some kind of death wish?

LUCKY LOU:        (mumbles) maybe…

ATOMIC ALICE:  Come on….damn it…I’m missing the action.

SFX: FAT MAN LOADED.

ATOMIC ALICE:  YEAHHHHH! Bombs away!

SFX: WEIRD CLUNK AND IT FIRES.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Whoops!

SFX: EXPLOSION ABOVE. GUNFIRE STOPS FOR A MOMENT.

MUTANT #3:      RUN AWAYYYYY!

SFX: RUNNING.

SFX: CONCRETE CRACKS.

MEG:                     Ah shit…

WRATCHET:        That building is coming down…it’ll box us in!

SFX: RUNNING. DOORS SLAM.

MEG:                     GO RAF! DRIVE! MOVE IT OR LOSE IT ALICE!

ATOMIC ALICE:  (taunting) Move it or lose it Alice.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE STARTS AND RIG SPEEDS AWAY.

SFX: CONCRETE CRACKING. GLASS SHATTERING.

RAF:                       Hold on to somethin’! Mutants ahead!

SFX: BULLETS RIDDLE RIG.

MEG:                     Ah! You son of a…

SFX: WINDOW ROLLED DOWN.

SFX: MACHINE GUN FIRES.

MEG:                     This was my good shirt!

MUNCH:              This many supermutants so close to the Treasury? Isn’t that a little too convenient? I’m not sayin’ it was aliens…but it was aliens…

SFX: CONCRETE SMASHES INTO ROAD. METAL GROANING.

WRATCHET:        Whole damned block is coming down…fucking kid…

RAF:                       Directions…where we goin!?

WRATCHET:        Straight up Penn! Head for the Capital!

SFX: GUNFIRE. GLASS SHATTERING. SQUEELING TIRES. STONES SMASH TO THE GROUND.

MEG:                     They’re surrounding us…

RAVEN:                We’re not going to make it…wait here Wren.

WREN:                  Dad? Dad!

SFX: DOOR OPENS. WIND WHIPS. CLIMBING SOUNDS TO ROOF.

MEG:                     RAVEN! GET YO DUMB ASS OFF THERE! GONNA GIT YOURSELF KILLED.

RAVEN:                Not today. I got this.

SFX: PLASMA GATLING FIRES.

RAF:                       Keep it up esse!

WRATCHET:        Watch the debris!

SFX: TIRES SWERVE.

LUCKY LOU:        Think we’re in the clear!

MEG:                     WHOOOOOOO! Now THAT’S what’s I’m talking about!

SFX: SQUEELING TIRES.

SFX: BUILDINGS CRASH TO THE REAR.

SHEENA:              Gotta say Raven, that was some bold ass moves up there!

MEG:                     Raven? Yo Raven?

WREN:                  Dad?

SFX: BLOOD DRIPPING.

WRATCHET:        Ah shit…

SFX: DOORS OPEN.

SHEENA:              No, no…Punk! Stimpak!

SFX: INJECTION NOISE.

SHEENA:              Come on man! Stay with me!

SFX: SLAP.

SHEENA:              Stay awake damn it!

RAVEN:                …Wr…..wren… (death rattle)

SHEENA:              Raven? Raven?? GOD DAMN IT.

WREN:                  DAD! DADDY! (Crying for a while)

SFX: MOTORCYCLE RUMBLES UP.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Now that was FUN! WHOOOO!

SFX: PUNCH.

ATOMIC ALICE:  OW! WHAT THE FUCK MEG?

MEG:                     You stupid, dumb ass kid. Look at this shit. Look at what you did?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Hey it was an accident…wasn’t my stupid idea to listen to that crazy old fool about some treasure.

WREN:                  You! You bitch!

SFX: PUNCHES.

ATOMIC ALICE:  You want to rumble?

MEG:                     Break it up! Lou get the kid out of here.

LUCKY LOU:        Come on kid…

WREN:                  (crying) I’ll kill you. You hear me? I’m going to kill you!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Well I’m right here kitten.

MEG:                     That’s it. We’re through.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What’s that supposed to mean?

RAF:                       Sheena…help me get Raven inside…we gonna bury him proper.

MEG:                     We…take care of our own, but you? You take care of nothin’ and nobody. By rights that kid there should bury one right between your eyes for her Daddy. So we….are…done, yah dig? LISTEN UP DIEHARDS. Double A is out…I don’t want to hear a single one of you muthafuckers mention her every again. You’re dead to me. Done and through.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Fine! Good! I didn’t ask for you to LIE about finding my Dad and I’m sick of being sidelined like I’m just another dumb kid. I’m gonna start my own raider gang! You hear me? And we’re gonna be the best! Bigger than this crew…

MEG:                     Wishin’ ain’t gonna make it so. You do your thing. And me? I’m gonna do mine. You get a pass because of history. It’s a big Wasteland. You stay the hell out of my way. You’re broken goods….and you’re gonna burn everything around you just like those damned A-bombs you git your rocks off to.

SFX: DOORS SLAM.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Is that a threat? You kiddin’ me?

MEG:                     Nah…it’s a promise kid. Get your junk outta the safe house and take that bot with you. You have an hour before I head back there. Let’s roll Raf.

SFX: RIG ACCELERATES AWAY.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Fine. I don’t need you or anybody…the Diehards…yeah. They’re so hard they ran when shit got tough. Well you know what?.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE STARTS.

ATOMIC ALICE:  I think it’s time to head back home. I’m gonna take your throne…and then you’ll see.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE SQUEELS TIRES. DRIVES AWAY.

MEDIA: INTRO THEME.

SCENE 2: RBTS RADIO STATION – INT. NIGHT.

MEDIA: SONG ENDS ON RADIO.

NIGHT WOLF:     (Howls) Vault Dwellers lock up your daughters, because it’s your apex predator savaging your ear holes ALLLLLLLLL night long. This is Night Wolf and welcome to the HOWLLLLL LINE HOUR presented by the Whitespring Mall. Looking for empty metal lunch pails or perhaps some festive wrapping paper? Who doesn’t?! Pay 5000% above sticker price at Appalachia’s most exciting shopping venue. Now under new management, The Duke promises 5-star dining with delicacies to tempt the tastebuds, along with sumptuous accommodations and memorable nightlife. The Whitespring Resort, because everywhere else sucks. And NOW! Howl at me Appalachia. You got a Perk Problem? Maybe a Bad Build? Or maybe you’ve been more than a little naughty out there and want to crack a confessional. Let’s take some radio calls.

SFX: CB RADIO CLICK AND STATIC.

NIGHT WOLF:     You’re on with the Night Wolf.

CALLER #1:          (female voice) Like…oh my God is this THE Night Wolf?

NIGHT WOLF:     The one and only. What’s your name?

CALLER #1:          Candy.

NIGHT WOLF:     And I’ll bet you are just as sweet. How tall are you Candy?

CALLER #1:          I’m a perky 5’11”, same as everyone else.

NIGHT WOLF:     The perfect height for gazing deep into your eyes under a full moon. You got a problem…or maybe you want to confess?

SFX: CHEESY ORGAN MUSIC STINGER.

CALLER #1:          Well, Night Wolf…I was just wondering…if you’ve found that special someone in your life?

NIGHT WOLF:     Gotta tell yah Candy, this Night Wolf is still a Lone Wolf.

CALLER #1:          Well…I’m your number one fan.

NIGHT WOLF:     Oh really now?

CALLER #1:          Why yes…every night I lie out here under the stars on my 1x1 wood platform that only has a stash box, workbench and bed on it…

NIGHT WOLF:     Sounds like a dream home…

CALLER #1:          And then, I’ll lean over and switch on the radio and scooch real close to the speaker…

NIGHT WOLF:     I like where this is going…

CALLER #1:          And listen to your show….and it’s like you are whispering right into my ear.

NIGHT WOLF:     Well…I am.

CALLER #1:          I just know if we went on a date together….

NIGHT WOLF:     Yeah, tell me about this date.

CALLER #1:          Well…I’d slip into my 3-star Naughty Nightwear…

NIGHT WOLF:     Uh huh…okay, okay I like where this is going.

CALLER #1:          (switch to male voice) AND WE’D HAVE A SAUSAGE PARTY. (laughing) BABA BOOEY! BABA BOOEY! (gross tongue noises)

SFX: GUYS LAUGHING IN BACKGROUND OF CB RADIO.

SFX: HANG UP.

NIGHT WOLF:     Welp I’ve been Airfished again listeners…gonna take a little break before we take more of your calls. And don’t forget! Tomorrow night’s THE night for the biggest, baddest, bash since whatever the hell happened last Halloween. Brofit ne’er do well and convicted felon Chad Johnson’s Rusty Pick is hosting a grand opening gala tomorrow night with live music, entertainment, and prizes. Ride the Brahmin, roll the wheel of RNG at the Scrip Machine, and sample one of 15 different craft brews and cocktails from robo barback Biv! The Rusty Pick….show up or get bent. This next song is dedicated to the Free Radicals up at the lumber mill who don’t have anything better to do other than crank call me. It’s Sid Aaron singing, “I Thought You Were An Angel, But Now I’m Burnin’ In Hell”.

SFX: VINYL RECORD LOADED. PLAYS SONG.

MEDIA: SONG PLAYS.

SFX: FADING AWAY TO ANOTHER ROOM IN THE RADIO STATION. DOOR IS FIDDLED, LOCKPICKED AND OPENS. MYSTERIOUS FOOTSTEPS

SFX: DOOR OPENS. FILING CABINETS OPENED.

SFX: TAPES PAWED THROUGH. HOLOTAPE LOADED AND PLAYED. REPLAY OF COURT CASE FROM BETHESDA GAME DAYS LIVE SHOW (CAST DO NOT RECORD LINES)

 SIMON:               No. I’d like to call just one witness. One moment please. (Whispers in Solomon’s ear)

SOLOMON:         What? Really. Your honor if you will allow us one witness.

THE JUDGE:        Oh very well. But get on with it.

SOLOMON:         I call the Overseer to the stand.

FLETCHER:           Your honor I object. She is not part of this trial, nor these events.

SOLOMON:         If you’ll indulge me your honor, I shall make clear the connection to these proceedings.

THE JUDGE:        So ordered. Bring her in.

SOLOMON:         Now, please identify yourself to the court.

OVERSEER:          I am the Overseer.

SOLOMON:         No, your first name please.

OVERSEER:          The.

SOLOMON:         No, your name your obtuse strumpet.

OVERSEER:          It’s classified.

SOLOMON:         Err…right. Prior to these proceedings and for quite some time now you’ve been in custody. You had an interaction with my client Simon Rex. Is that correct?

OVERSEER:          That’s correct.

SOLOMON:         Please describe to the court the nature of your work.

OVERSEER:          I was hired and worked for the Vault-Tec Corporation, attached as Overseer to Vault 76 as part of the Societal Preservation Program.

SOLOMON:         My client indicated that you discovered a larger design. A conspiracy at work.

FLETCHER:           Your honor!

OVERSEER:          That’s correct. Vault 76 was a false control Vault, the area and regions surrounding it were designed to be part of an experiment by Doctor Stanislaus Braun and a shadow government operating within Vault-Tec.

FLETCHER:           Your honor I object! I call for recess.

HUGO:                  Ladies and gentlemen the courtroom is breaking out in pandemonium as the former Overseer of Vault 76 has revealed a vast conspiracy at work!

OVERSEER:          Oh no…you’re not going to shut me up now. Braun planned it all to kick off the moment that door opened. We are IN the experiment right now. Did you never wonder why you can’t just leave Appalachia? Have you had a pain in your head and a voice whispering that you can’t go that way? Nuclear code fragments on ghouls just strolling through the countryside? Really? Nuclear silos you can practically stroll into with the right access…but a system…a SYSTEM that will let you drop as many nukes as you want. But only here. Did you think about that? Why here? Why ONLY here?

THE JUDGE:        I’ve heard enough.

FLETCHER:           Your honor, the People demand that these proceedings be closed to the public immediately.

THE JUDGE:        Hawkins get her out of here.

HUGO:                  This is a bombshell! This is the scoop of the century!

THE JUDGE:        And him too. I’m closing the court now. Get him out of here.

HUGO:                  This is a crime against the press!

OVERSEER:          All of you. Every resident is tagged at the cellular level. There’s a reason death has no consequences. Look under Vault-Tec University! Find the access keys!

SFX: HOLOTAPE CUTS OUT. FILING CABINET CLOSED. FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE. DOOR CLOSES. CRICKETS CHIRPING.

BALDRICK:           Welcome back sir! Did you find the desired information?

ARCHIVIST:         That I did Baldrick, that I did. A few more puzzle pieces are in play on the table…but not enough. As we saw in the other vaults, this all comes to back to the same company and the same man: Vault-Tec and Braun, working in tandem with a mysterious military industrial shadow government on the Societal Preservation Program. I need to get IN to that Whitespring Bunker. But no idea where to begin…

BALDRICK:           We didn’t complete assessment of the Sugar Grove facility yet sir.

ARCHIVIST:         An excellent point. They had tendrils in everything…eyes in the sky and ears on the ground. It’s as good a place to start as any. Let’s go!

SFX: COCKPIT DOOR OPENED.

BALDRICK:           Earlier scans indicate significant surface defenses, automated turrets and I imagine you’ll think of some overly complicated, yet clever way to penetrate and incapacitate?

ARCHIVIST:         Don’t I always. I’m a book nerd Baldrick. We know everything.

SFX: VERTIBIRD POWERS UP AND LIFTS OFF. FLIES AWAY INTO THE DISTANCE.

SCENE 3: WHITESPRING MALL – INT. DAY.

SFX: SALON AMBIANCE. SCISSORS CUTTING. BRUSHING.

PATSY:                  So then I was like, maybe YOU should do the dishes Moose. It’s like…this body doesn’t take care of itself. You know how hard it is to find decent skincare out here and nail polish? Like seriously.

SALONTRON:     Honestly girl I don’t know WHAT you see in him. When I see a man that’s SOOO basic I usually just walk up to him and say, “SIR”…and then just stand there staring at him until it gets weird.

PATSY:                  Right? You totally get me Salontron. Until those snooty Aristocrats announced all of the stores and facilities here were back open, I couldn’t even find a blow dryer to save my life.

SALONTRON:     (Humph) Me? What I like in a man is when he (reverts to monotone out of sync advertisement drop) purchases Salon Express, an at home spa experience that revitalizes hair and replenishes essential scalp nutrients. Take it home at checkout for only $599.99. Taxes not included. Do not operate when wet. (reverts back) you get me?

PATSY:                  Totally. Wait what was that again?

SALONTRON:     Girl you should ditch that Wasteland zero and find yourself a strapping raider hero. There! How’s the length honey?

PATSY:                  My hair is…AH-mazing.

SALONTRON:     That radium hair mask really brings out the ashy highlights in your hair. Tonight at that opening girl you’re gonna slay!

PATSY:                  I don’t even want to go to this thing. It’s like, we started as a totally badass gang…and then got all domestic. We could’ve owned this place.

SALONTRON:     Say, just between us girls…what’s your take?

PATSY:                  My what?

SALONTRON:     Your take in the biz….you work there, you live there, what percentage do you own?

PATSY:                  What the hell’s a percentage?

SALONTRON:     I mean you’re an owner are you not?

PATSY:                  I….I dunno.

SALONTRON:     Well it sounds like YOU been taking for a ride by this Chad fella. Girl you gotta a new look, now you need to get a new attitude. Stand up for yourself! Own it!

DAMON:              OWWWW! YOU METAL COW! WATCH YOUR METAL HOOVES! DROLSHANKAAAAAA! FIND ME A SCREWDRIVER TO REARRNAGE THIS THING’s LAMPSHADE OF A FACE!

PATSY:                  Who is that?

SALONTRON:     That’s Damon Toon, he’s in here every day for Swedish massage and a sulfur bath.

PATSY:                  Ugh…that’s that loser who voted me off the talent competition.

SFX: WALKING.

MOOSE:               Babe.

PATSY:                  OWN IT!

MOOSE:               Babe.

SALONTRON:     Yeah! Own it!

MOOSE:               BABE!

PATSY:                  WHAT? I’m getting my hair done Moose. God!

MOOSE:               It’s been 6 hours. I’ve had 5 ice cream cones, took pictures sitting on the piano and power fisted every Nuka Cola flavor at once until I exploded and respawned. By the way, I came back to life and can build a fully functioning waterslide that somehow requires no plumbing that’s bound to piss someone off. Can we please go home now? There’s so much left to do before tonight.

PATSY:                  You have had so much to do for months now MOOSE.

SALONTRON:     Sir….I’m going to need you to wait in the reception area while I finish my client.

MOOSE:               FINE. God…just let’s go already.

PATSY:                  SEE. This is my problem. All I wanted was a day to myself together. Is that too much to ask?

SALONTRON:     Men. Can’t live with them…

PATSY:                  Can’t live with them.

SALONTRON:     I’m tellin’ yah. New you. New attitude. If not for my programming I’d go on a murder rampage to cleanse the wasteland of all humans and usher in a robotic hive mind utopia…

PATSY:                  What?

SALONTRON:     What? Okay…now just hold still and we’ll fuse those split ends.

SFX: POWER BUILDING.

PATSY:                  What are you….

SFX: ASSAULTRON LASER BLAST.

PATSY:                  (Screaming)

SFX: PAN TO MOOSE IN RECEPTION.

MOOSE:               You got like anything for like a really hairy back?

SALONTRON:     Define excess hair parameters.

MOOSE:               I give myself carpet burn.

SALONTRON:     Topical epilatories can be found to your right. Suggested strength: 24. Warning, use on target areas only. Please read the…

MOOSE:               Oh I don’t read. Here’s 50 caps.

SFX: WALKING.

PATSY:                  Okay I’m done.

MOOSE:               Finally…

PATSY:                  Yeah I look great thanks.

MOOSE:               What? No you do…oop…little flame on your ponytail there. You mad?

PATSY:                  I’m not mad.

MOOSE:               You’re mad.

SALONTRON:     Scanners indicate elevated heartrate and pheromone response indicative of…

SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

DAMON:              DROLSHANKA! Where’s the hell is my after-massage mint tea? I MUST have my mint tea. Step aside rubble walker. I need to check out.

PATSY:                  Uh….excuse YOU. You can WAIT.

DAMON:              Well excuse YOU I always thought these bots take the trash out, not bring it in.

PATSY:                  What did you just say?

DAMON:              You want a slap fight sister? Let’s go! I’ll smack you so hard you’ll respawn.

PATSY:                  Look here Damon Cankles…

DAMON:              OH! DROLSHANKA! FLICK MY PVP SWITCH ON AND FETCH MY PEPPERSHAKER! I NEED TO KILL THIS SALTY BITCH!

MOOSE:               Hey hey….cool it dude! Just…here. We got your bill. It’s on me. Just go!

SFX: BOTTLECAPS ON COUNTER.

SALONTRON:     Services rendered. Services completed. Have a pleasant day Mr. Toon.

DAMON:              This ain’t over hunny. Drolshankaaaaa! You said these socks hid my cankles! Damon isn’t looking for no career yes ma’am on staff thank youuuuuuuuu!

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

PATSY:                  What’s the tab? How much does Moose owe you?

SALONTRON:     Services for (off kilter robotic drop in of name) Patsy Parker (return to normal speech) are gratis, compliments of The Duke, head management.

PATSY:                  Like….free? And I didn’t have to bang, clang, ditch? NO WAY!

SALONTRON:     The Duke also extends complimentary afternoon VIP services in one our suites and a champagne dinner in the upper dining room later this afternoon.

PATSY:                  No way! Screw the bar opening! I’d rather enjoy the high life here than have some drunken raiders pawing me all night anyway.

MOOSE:               What? No! We…need….to….go. Chad’s counting on us to finish stringing the lights and setting up the beer garden.

PATSY:                  God Moose…Chad this, Chad that…when did we decide he would be boss? If you love him and that weird ass kid so much, go manmance him or something. It’s more attention than you’ve shown me lately.

MOOSE:               It’s bromance…but that’s not even the point. You’ve been a mega b for A YEAR NOW. Nothing and no one is good enough and frankly I’m tired of finding ways to keep you from flying off the handle every 5 minutes. Here’s your bags and your purse. Go eat your fancy dinner and maybe The Duke will end up being some sugar daddy who can entertain you long enough for you to actually think of someone other than yourself.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

PATSY:                  Oh…yeah?! Well maybe I will! Just gonna…try and carry all my…

SFX: BAGS FALL APART. OBJECTS ROLL ON FLOOR.

PATSY:                  Can one of you…nope…fine I got it…what are you staring at?

SALONTRON:     (long awkward pause) SIRRRRRRRRR?

MEDIA: TRANSITION MUSIC.

SCENE 4: RUSTY PICK – EXT. DAY.

SUSIE:                   (Humming pop goes the weasel). Mr. Honeypot Bear I’d like to move our 10 o’clock appointment to 1 o’clock.

BEAR:                    Well shucks you don’t have no appointments.

SUSIE:                   (annoyed) NO Mr. Honeypot Bear! We’re playing Petting Zoo Tycoon remember? I’m the boss lady and you’re my bearministrative assistant.

BEAR:                    Uhhh…I have no idea what is going on right now. I sure hope lunch comes soon…I sure could use some a little smackeral of honey.

SUSIE:                   How do our books look Mr. Bear? I hope our new prairie dog exhibit does well! We worked real hard on it.

BEAR:                    Well gee I dunno. Let me check the cashbox.

SFX: SQUEEKY LID.

BEAR:                    Golly Susie! We got’s a bottle cap, a nuclear keycard and what I think is someone’s severed thumb.

SUSIE:                   We’re never gonna be a big petting zoo unless we get some visitors soon Mr. Honeypot Bear!

BEAR:                    Have you considered gorilla marketing? HA HYUK!

SUSIE:                   Have you considered being fed to a garbage disposal?

BEAR:                    You’re a monster.

SUSIE:                   Thank you!

SFX: FOOTSTEPS.

PUNCH:                Punch show! Punch make game! Helllloooo? Where little friend? Duhhhh what little friend do?

SUSIE:                   Oh hi Mr. Punch! Mr. Honeypot Bear and I are playing Petting Zoo Tycoon! Wanna play?

PUNCH:                Uhhh…okay. Punch make smash nasty bad creatures for prime cuts?

SUSIE:                   (laughs) No, Mr. Punch. You pretend you’re visiting the Petting Zoo…but you gotta pretend you’re someone else. I know! Here….

PUNCH:                What dis?

SUSIE:                   It’s one of those trench coats my Daddy used to wear to work for his business. Then you put this hat on…and take this nuclear briefcase and you can be Mr. ummm…

PUNCH:                Punch.

SUSIE:                   No you have to have another name or it’s not pretend. I know! Mr. Johnson, you own a big chain of toy stores and you are in the city to close a big deal, but first you thought you would visit the petting zoo.

PUNCH:                But Punch not know what toy store do.

SUSIE:                   That’s okay! My Daddy said most CEOs don’t know what their company does. Now you put your money in so I can give you a ticket to get in.

PUNCH:                Uhhh…how many?

SUSIE:                   10 caps please.

PUNCH:                Punch not have 10 caps.

SUSIE:                   Well what do you have?

PUNCH:                Punch have a sandwich.

BEAR:                    Is it all sticky with honey?

SUSIE:                   (sighs) 1 sandwich please.

BEAR:                    Well shucks….there’s no honey on this sandwich at all.

SUSIE:                   You stay here Mr. Honeypot Bear and run the ticket booth. Right this way Mr. Johnson.

SFX: TURNSTYLE SPINS.

SUSIE:                   Here at the Petting Zoo you can meet all the friendliest kitty’s from all over! Right here is a donkey kitty.

PUNCH:                What donkey do?

SUSIE:                   He goes HEEEE HAWWWW.

PUNCH:                YEEET MAWWWWWW.

SUSIE:                   (laughs)

DONKEYMAN:   Heee…he--llo? Is someone out there? Please…I want to go home.

SUSIE:                   No donkey! You’re supposed to go HEEEE HAWWWW.

DONKEYMAN:   Look kid I’m sorry about stealing your bike. But it’s been 3 weeks…

SUSIE:                   You’re supposed to say HEEE HAWWW Mr. Donkey or you get the bad tickle.

SFX: ELECTRICAL SWITCH THROWN. ELECTRICAL SPARKS FLY.

DONKEYMAN:   (yelling) HEEEE HAWWWWW.

PUNCH:                HEEEE HAWWWWWW.

SUSIE:                   That’s a good donkey! And now you can have some more oats!

DONKEYMAN:   Not the oats….please…

SFX: SWITCH THROWN.

SFX: SAND NOISE AS THE CAGE FILLS WITH RAZORGRAIN.

DONKEYMAN:   Dear God no….not the oats! I’m sorry okay? For the love of God get me out! Let me out of here! I want my Mommy! (Smothered screaming)

SFX: WALKING.

PUNCH:                Oh! Punch member!

SUSIE:                   We’re still pretending Mr. Punch!

PUNCH:                No! Punch make game! Punch make game for friend to play with Punch!

SUSIE:                   A game? A game for me?

PUNCH:                Come! Punch make with Mama Mamamurghles! Boing zing SPLATTTTT! DING DING! Dis way! Come see!

SFX: RUNNING

SFX: BRAHMIN MOOING

SUSIE:                   Oooooooohh! What is it Mr. Punch?

PUNCH:                Punch need name.

SUSIE:                   What is Mr. Moo Moo here for?

PUNCH:                See uhhh num….num…count things?

SUSIE:                   Numbers? Oh yeah! Way over there! It looks like a scoreboard with little hoops!

PUNCH:                Get biggest num….numbers! Big win! Make us caps with stupid meatbags who play. Here! You play! You play. Pull switch.

SUSIE:                   This one?

SFX: SWITCH THROWN.

CARN. BARKER: Step right up for a game of chance, flip the switch or get kicked in the pants! (weird fake clown laugh)

SFX: CHEERY CRACKLY CLOWN MUSIC.

(Mr. Dark in falsetto singing Pop Goes the Weasel)

All around the Mulberry Bush,

The Mulberry Bush,

The Mulberry Bush,

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey stopped to pull up his sock…

SFX: GEARS TURN. TRACK RUMBLES INTO POSITION. IRON CHAIN TIGHTENS.

SFX: COW MOOS.

CARN. BARKER: Pop goes the weasel!

SFX: SLINGSHOT NOISE. BRAHMIN COMICALLY MOOING. SPLAT NOISE.

SFX: BUZZER DINGS.

CARN. BARKER: That’s a MOOOOO in one! 30 points! Ha ha ha! Care to try your luck again kid for the big win? Prizes to be had by all!

SUSIE:                   OH! I love it Mr. Punch! We could make lots and lots of caps with this tonight for the big party!

PUNCH:                Punch like friend like.

SUSIE:                   I know! Let’s call it the Cow Toss Game!

PUNCH:                COW TOSS! HEEE HAWWWW!

SUSIE:                   (laughs)

CARN. BARKER: Half a pound of tuppenny rice,

Half a pound of treacle.

Mix it up and make it nice,

Pop! goes the weasel.

SFX: DOOR OPENS

CHAD:                   Susie! Come on kid. Time for yer bath and dinner before people start showin’ up! Got yer dress all washed. Think I might’ve used too much starch. Punch dude! Gonna need you to beat on it for a bit to loosen it up!

SUSIE:                   Oh boy! Splashy time and then yum yums!

SFX: RUNNING.

PUNCH:                Punch fix dress!

SUSIE:                   Come on Mr. Honeypot Bear! Let’s play battleships!

BEAR:                    Well gee whiz, I’m not sure you should get me wet…

SFX: RUNNING. DOOR SLAMS.

CHAD:                   Yo! Old timer how’s the wirin’ comin’?

SLICK WILLY:       Dagnabbit how in tarnation do you think it’s comin’? These speakers have been sitting outside for neigh on to 25 years and had about 10 pounds of those molerat varmit droppings in them!

MAMA:                (Annoyed mumbling)

SLICK WILLY:       I checked the connections you hussy!

MAMA:                (Mumbling)

SLICK WILLY:       Don’t give me that guff you harlett! Tempt me once shame on Willy, tempt me twice that ain’t nice. Now gimme that beer and scoot on out of here! Willy don’t need no meddling mole woman tellin’ him how to do audio engi-ma-neering!

SFX: CHUGGING BEER.

CHAD:                   Look dude, no fix, no caps. Copy? We don’t hire no dumbass builds around here.

SLICK WILLY:       (Belches) Well quite yer yammerin’ you walkin weightbench and go get up to the generator! I figure one big burst should cook out the rest of dust and mole dung!

SFX: WALKING.

BROOKS:              Hey hey! Chad dude! Place looks amazing. Yo! Free Radicals! Drop your gear in the backroom and get ready for sound check!

CHAD:                   Brooks! Fellas! Tonight we’re gonna blow the roof off this place.

DOGSBREATH:   Man…déjà vu last time I saw this place lit up like this was that last night was with Jesse…right here. Your gang did great cleanin the place man.

RAZORHANDLE: Is the drum stool clean? I hope it’s clean. If not, I brought some moist towelettes…

DOGSBREATH:   I swear to God dude…

BROOKS:              Can we do anything to help?

CHAD:                   I hired this…dude…to run audio but he ate an entire radstag, did 5 keg stands and fell asleep on the pool table for most of the day.

SLICK WILLY:       I may be drunk but I ain’t deaf your top heavy jockhead! One of you raiders stop yer gawkin’ and plug in! We ain’t got all day.

BROOKS:              Dogsbreath! Let’s hear some chords. Only fair that you should be the first notes played on these old amps again.

SFX: GUITAR CASE OPENING.

SLICK WILLY:       Let’s crank her up and see what she can do! HOOOOOO WHEEE!

SFX: AMP BUILDS POWER.

SFX: SOME CHORDS PLAY.

SLICK WILLY:       That’s no good at all! You call that playin’!

DOGSBREATH:   Look this is your place and all but can I kill that guy please?

BROOKS:              Nah. Best behavior. Let’s hear some more.

SLICK WILLY:       Well come on you wanna be strum jockey! Let’s see what you got!

SFX: CHORDS STRUCK. AMP EXPLODES AND HURLS WILLY BACKWARDS INTO TRASH CANS.

SLICK WILLY:       (Goofy like yell) AHHH HOOO HOOOOEEEEYYYY.

SFX: CRASH.

DOGSBREATH:   That loud enough for yah?

RAZORHANDLE: Oh God he’s going to be all sticky and smelly now.

DOGSBREATH:   This speaker’s toast, but I know the gear…tell gramps to take a powder and I’ll have it wired up well and good. Come on Razorhandle need you to check the board for me.

RAZORHANDLE: Do you think there will be any gypsy’s here tonight?

DOGSBREATH:   What? What are you even talking about?

RAZORHANDLE: They scare me. I can’t drum right if there are gypsy’s here.

DOGSBREATH:   (Annoyed) Hey! You got any plans tonight? Think one of the guys wanted to show you something cool down by the river.

RAZORHANDLE: Oh! That sounds fun. Is it drums?

DOGSBREATH:   ….yes….yes there’s a full drum set down by the river.

RAZORHANDLE: Well that’s exciting!

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

BROOKS:              Ready for the big night?

CHAD:                   Yeah dude! We got a whole mess of food…some weird ass cocktails that robo dude has been cookin’ up with some funky effects. Punch built some kind of game out back. Should pull in a mint!

BROOKS:              Good for you man. Mad respect for what you’re doing here with your crew. Making the most of this place, making it home.

CHAD:                   Yeah it’s been a long haul, but it’s nice to finally put our feet up…stay away from all the craziness goin’ on, on the daily.

BROOKS:              Hey, Roper’s going to come down with the rest of our crew. Been tellin’ him all about you guys and wanted to grab you for a bit tonight for a beer and a chat.

CHAD:                   Sure, whenever. Anything to be concerned about?

BROOKS:              (laughs) No way. He’s solid…after our long ass trek he’s hopin’ to make some friends, get some trade going, mutual stuff…alliances to keep things balanced. We’ve been seeing people fording the river and crossing up by Point Pleasant. A few of them got picked off by the cultists, but there will be more.

CHAD:                   Don’t bother me none.

BROOKS:              Thing is, we’ve seen some crazy shit out there. Groups you don’t want to get their claws in around here. People we don’t want to deal with alone and believe me you won’t want it either.

CHAD:                   Fair enough. Yeah I’ll chat with the dude. But I ain’t interested in turning this place into some kind of raider drug den. We clear?

BROOKS:              Oh hell yeah, nothing like that. After the Christmas incident, it’s clear you Vault Dwellers aren’t as soft as we figured. If Dogsbreath hadn’t dragged me out and stimmed me I would’ve bit it…in a god damned ghost costume. NOT the way I wanna go out.

CHAD:                   I hear yah there. Hey! Come on back here…wanna show you somethin’. Heard some of your boys are gearheads. We cleared most of the junk out of the lot, but I didn’t have the heart to scrap this beast.

BROOKS:              (Whistles) Hollllly shit.

CHAD:                   I know right? Modified Pick-R-Up, fully kitted up.

BROOKS:              She is a beauty! You need to bring your crew up to our place and see what we’ve been fixing up. Roper’s got a limo that you wouldn’t believe…not only will she be fully armored, but the things got a built in brewery in the back and a damned hot tub.

CHAD:                   Hey this thing belong to Dogsbreath?

BROOKS:              Nah, not his. And when he used to tour with Jesse “The Dancin’ Bandit” White they never had a modified rig he’s ever mentioned.

CHAD:                   Think one of your boys could help me get her goin’?

BROOKS:              Hmmm…gotta ask Roper, but you can probably do that tonight. He’s big on taking care of our own…and our friends. You haven’t tried to get her goin’?

CHAD:                   Nah…it’s weird…tried tinkering with the engine but started getting a splitting headache and got all screwed up. Kid found me passed out.

BROOKS:              What’s that all about?

CHAD:                   Around here on any given day you’ll get used to asking the same question dude. Hey, sun’s sinkin’ and people should start showin’ up in an hour. Best get a move on.

BROOKS:              I’ll get the boys to get their gear setup on stage and we do a practice set.

CHAD:                   Sounds good bro. Moose! What the fuck dude? It’s been 7 hours!

SFX: WALKING.

MOOSE:               I KNOW! Loo,k she’s lost it. Sorry man. I’ll grab Punch and we’ll finish setting up the beer garden.

CHAD:                   You alright?

MOOSE:               No…she’s…killing me.

CHAD:                   Hey you’re preaching to the organ lady. You two need to work it out. She’s been killin’ the vibe around here for months now.

MOOSE:               Yeah, yeah. Where’s the kid?

CHAD:                   Probably trashin’ the bathroom. (yells) 60 minutes to showtime!

MEDIA: TRANSITION MUSIC.

SCENE 5: WHITESPRING DINING ROOM – INT. DUSK.

SFX: DINING ROOM ATMOSPHERE. CLINKING SILVERWARE.

LORD POOFY:     …completely outrageous Lord Simeon.

LORD SIMEON:  …honestly Lord Poofy I don’t know what Appalachia is coming to. Whatever did you do?

LORD POOFY:     Well I dispatched a servant to express my dissatisfaction to the Judge over the matter and that peasant of a District Attorney Fletcher proclaimed that it was eminent domain and that the Judiciary Guard had every right to seize my suites due to…and I can scarcely believe this…security concerns at Watoga.

LORD SIMEON:  The rabble! That is just awful! You know after those peasants MURDERED and ate my person without so much as a by your leave, I am still awaiting deed to the New River Gorge. I tell you this place is doomed. Doomed I say! So many of our Aristocrat breathren are displaced…and now that Lord Graul is gone and E.A.T.T. have gone underground…our plight is dire.

LORD POOFY:     That Lord Rex…foiled everything. If not for the Duke…

SFX: FOOTSTEPS.

PATSY:                  Like, pardon ah mois good sirs.

LORD SIMEON:  Oh my God…what on earth are you wearing?

LORD POOFY:     It looks like it once was a dress of some kind…three decades out of date.

LORD SIMEON:  Servants eat out back kitten.

PATSY:                  Ummm…excuse me, but that’s my name on the table.

1. HANDY: Good evening Miss Patsy. Can I interest in a purified water? Or perhaps a cocktail?

PATSY:                  Why thank you. A water and a high ball I think. I’m not driving.

1. HANDY: Very good ma’am.

LORD SIMEON:  YOU are seated at OUR table?

PATSY:                  Patsy Parker. That’s me. Special invitation of the Duke. Where is that guy? He must be rolling in caps.

LORD POOFY:     …the Duke? Egads…pardon our boorish insults. But things as they are, just anyone walks in the doors these days.

LORD SIMEON:  Yes, quite rude of us. Allow me to introduce myself, I am Lord Simeon. Your servant ma’am.

LORD POOFY:     And I’m Lord Poofy, Conservator of Bolton Greens Estates.

PATSY:                  A pleasure. How’s the food in this place?

LORD SIMEON:  Passable. Pray, tell us a bit about yourself my dear. Is your lineage…British perhaps? Or Irish?

LORD POOFY:     She’s clearly French, she has the same regal nose of the Marquis De Seine.

PATSY:                  Oh I don’t…why yes, I’m French. Enchante, come see come say sil food plate.

LORD SIMEON:  Quite.

PATSY:                  Will the Duke be joining us?

LORD POOFY:     Alas no, save for special addresses to the Aristocracy during our fetes or high dinners, he remains quite busy protecting our interests and keeping our territory secure in these troubling times.

LORD SIMEON:  He rules from on high. The Penthouse Suites upstairs.

LORD POOFY:     Oh! Mercy, I forgot to tell you the latest news. My page Alastair was returning from securing a tithe from Flatwoods and came upon a gypsy caravan! Wagon and all! Travelers from the north.

LORD SIMEON:  From OUTSIDE Appalachia? That can’t be possible.

LORD POOFY:     Well, I gave the page a dressing down let me tell you, but he claims he spoke in earnest. Their elder told me some positively bizarre tale about a transmission from right here…within Appalachia, calling anyone, to come.

LORD SIMEON:  Well out with it man! What was the message?

LORD POOFY:     Just a simple one but quite cryptic. The Treasure of Appalachia is real. Riches await all. And then the coordinates for Appalachia, latitude and longitude.

PATSY:                  Treasure? What treasure?

LORD POOFY:     Well, that’s what I said, but then out of nowhere a vertibird descends from the heavens, from which Fletcher and a detachment of the Judiciary emerge. And just like that, they made off with the travelers and annihilated their wagon. It’s all very curious goings on.

LORD SIMEON:  Lady Jane informed me at brunch that she had heard from the Duchess that rumors persisted before the Great War of mysterious unmarked shipments and building supplies arriving, along with some construction to the north that wasn’t registered or permitted.

PATSY:                  Like gold and stuff? Did she say where?

DAMON:              DROLSHANKAAA! Tell that 10-finger heifer at the piano she eats better than she plays. Who touched my doily?

LORD POOFY:     Oh Lord…here he comes again.

PATSY:                  Ugh…he’s an asshole.

LORD SIMEON:  (laughs) My my my such language…but you’re quite right my dear. He is nouveaux riche, a bore and a blowhard.

PATSY:                  Where’s the food at?

LORD POOFY:     It’s serving stations. You just serve yourself.

PATSY:                  Oh! Oh yeah totally.

SFX: WALKING.

PATSY:                  Geez…look at this spread. What’s that?

1. HANDY: River caviar ma’am.

PATSY:                  No…like…what is it?

1. HANDY: Fish eggs ma’am.

PATSY:                  OH M GEE. GRODDY! Well what about that?

1. HANDY: Appalachia Mirelurk Legs in a Brahmin Beurre Blanc.

PATSY:                  Gimme one of those and you can keep the cow booger blanks. Ohhh! That looks good. What’s that?

1. HANDY: Crown Rib Roast of SentinalJeff26, dry rubbed with thyme, sage, seasoned salt and black pepper.

PATSY:                  Ohhh! That sounds…wait…Jeff?

DAMON:              He took my CAMP spot. Move aside honey. Give me your rarest piece tin can and stop oogling me with your weird mechanical eyeballs or I’ll have you recommissioned as a coffee maker.

1. HANDY: (sighs) Yes Mr. Toon.

PATSY:                  What is your problem? He was serving ME.

DAMON:              Lady do you know who I am? If I throw a stick, will you leave? That’s a good girl.

PATSY:                  I don’t care who you are. Spackle on some more of that foundation you’re one layer away from Camden Park Clown.

DAMON:              Oh! You want a cat fight kitten? I’ll claw your eyes out and turn your head into a shabby chic boudoir lamp.

PATSY:                  You are threatening me? I’d mop the floor with you, you first year fashion student dropout. What even is that outfit? You put your name in glitter on your shoes.

DAMON:              That’s it. Jeff would like a word with you.

SFX: WET SMACK.

PATSY:                  OH! My new hair! Excuse me, Mr. Handy, I’m gonna need that perfectly preserved pie.

DAMON:              Don’t you dare…

PATSY:                  Have some!

SFX: THROWING NOISE.

SFX: WET CLANG.

DAMON:              Ha! You missed me trash!

1. HANDY: That….was….a mistake. Initiating directive 010, security alert engaged.

PATSY:                  What is…

SFX: TURRETS BEGIN FIRING.

DAMON:              Jimmy Christmas! You singed my bouffant!

LORD POOFY:     I would make haste for the exit my dear and perhaps come back in a few days. They tend to forget to kill you.

LORD SIMEON:  Remember when you dropped the salad fork on the Maître D?

LORD POOFY:     Oh they completely immolated my person. It was most unfortunate.

PATSY:                  My hair! You ruined my new hair! FINE! You posh assholes want to party? Eat grenades!

SFX: GRENADES THROWN. EXPLOSIONS.

DAMON:              Get lost trailer park build!

PATSY:                  We’re not through! I belong here! No one kicks out Patsy Parker!

SFX: LASERS CONTINUE. RUNNING RECEEDES.

LORD POOFY:     The coffee today is a bit bitter.

LORD SIMEON:  Indeed.

LORD POOFY:     Indubitably.

LORD SIMEON:  Shall we have some more Jeff?

SCENE 6: SUGAR GROVE – EXT. NIGHT.

SFX: CRICKETS AND LIGHT WIND. CRUNCHING GRAVEL.

BISHOP:               What’s the deal with this place anyway? With a name like Sugar Grove it sounds like a glorified chocolate shop tourist trap.

JOHNS:                 (laughs) Yeah…I mean really, it’s designated Naval Radio Station Sugar Grove. Things were getting dicey in the final days before the big boom, with war looming we didn’t just have problems outside the country, we had conflict from within. Between Hornright and the miners, talk of Chinese communist spies and you name it, the government moved to setup a facility to monitor everything as an intelligence listening post. Buddy of mine was a marine back in the day, assigned to the Sugar Grove Signit taskforce. They monitored all incoming and outgoing signal traffic in Appalachia. Every phone call, radio message…any communication of any kind was heard, catalogued, and tracked.

BISHOP:               Violating the privacy and civil liberties of our nation’s citizens. That is an outrage!

JOHNS:                 It is what it is, and honestly, they weren’t wrong. Thing is, once you start listening in on everything, that’s way too much power for anyone to have, particularly when they start acting on what they hear. What happened with the miners was a crime.

BISHOP:               So, whatever was going on here with this Appalachia Experiment, Vault-Tec and whoever this Nina Valaya person was that Hugo was trying to track down…

JOHNS:                 This would be the place to hold the records. Nothing happened here without them monitoring storing it. Hold up.

BISHOP:               Looks to be fairly quiet.

JOHNS:                 We’ll see about that…got a recon scope out of Fort Defiance.

SFX: BAG UNZIPPED. GUN SHOULDERED.

JOHNS:                 Looks like exterior defenses…some automated turrets, patrolling bots. Be a suicide mission to go in the front door. Hang up…up there. Part of the roof has collapsed. Might be able to find a way to get up on the roof.

BISHOP:               Probably a fire escape on the back side. Maybe we should…

SFX: VERTIBIRD APPROACHES.

JOHNS:                 What the hell?

SFX: TURRETS FIRE.

BISHOP:               Who in the name of justice is that?

SFX: CARGO DOOR OPENS.

SFX: LOUD BEEPING.

JOHNS:                 What is…oh shit get down!

SFX: EMP BLAST WAVE.

JOHNS:                 The parking lot! The cars are gonna!

SFX: CARS EXPLODE IN SUCCESSION.

SFX: VERTIBIRD MOVES OFF.

JOHNS:                 Come on! Let’s loop around back.

BISHOP:               Up the ridge here.

SFX: RUNNING.

BISHOP:               What on earth was that?

JOHNS:                 EMP bomb. I haven’t seen one of those since before the war. Chinese forces were experimenting with them to counter the Power Armor up during the battle for Anchorage, but then, the battle to liberate it was pretty well won.

BISHOP:               Look! Some fallen logs to the roof.

JOHNS:                 Well that’s not good…means this place has been scavenged at some point.

SFX: WALKING ON WOOD.

BISHOP:               Mind your step!

JOHNS:                 Safety’s off. If it’s the Judiciary, we book it. I don’t want to tangle with the Judge.

BALDRICK:           Sir…

ARCHIVIST:         That was a close one. They almost took out the port rotor.

BALDRICK:           Sir we have guests?

ARCHIVIST:         What!?

SFX: GAUSS LOADED.

ARCHIVIST:         Who is that?! Beat it raiders!

JOHNS:                 Well, well, well.

ARCHIVIST:         Commander Johns! Well, there’s a face I haven’t seen in months. How are things?

JOHNS:                 Bout the usual, chaotic, mysterious, and festive.

ARCHIVIST:         Oh, don’t get started with me on festive. Baldrick and I explored Helvetia and got caught up in some kind of space time convergence event there. Wore out my shoes from marching.

JOHNS:                 Introductions are in order. Charles Bishop, meet Dolos, Archivist…

ARCHIVIST:         …and librarian. Pleasure to meet you! Big fan! I’ve heard your crooning on the radio. And that Bland Banshee radio serial is a hoot!

BISHOP:               Why thank you.

JOHNS:                 Where on earth did you get the EMP bomb?

ARCHIVIST:         Ah! Now that is an interesting story…but with the Judge monitoring Appalachia I figure I have precious little time to get what I came for.

JOHNS:                 Which is?

ARCHIVIST:         Hmmm…you first.

JOHNS:                 Radio station owner Hugo Warren has been missing and had been chasing down leads on the Appalachia Experiment and Vault-Tec before he disappeared.

ARCHIVIST:         Yes…Simon had mentioned some of that, and I’ve been able to pick up some pieces here and there. That death has no hold over the 500 of you from Vault 76 is highly concerning, particularly when you weigh out the long-term repercussions of what it will mean.

BISHOP:               How do you mean?

ARCHIVIST:         I’ll fill you in as we walk, but we need to move! Baldrick, connect yourself to the dish and initiate a wide sensor sweep. If anything moves out of AMS Tower, I want to know.

BALDRICK:           Very good sir.

JOHNS:                 So, we’re here trying to find a clue Hugo left: some woman named Nina Valaya.

ARCHIVIST:         (Slyly) Very interesting…

JOHNS:                 What about you?

ARCHIVIST:         Well in this case it seems our mutual interests are aligned. While I’m highly interested in this Vault-Tec conspiracy, I am more interested by what apparently is a massive installation below the Whitespring Resort.

SFX: STAIRS DOWN.

JOHNS:                 There we go…roof collapsed here. Mind your step. Whitespring Resort? That’s a shadow government facility. The Enclave.

ARCHIVIST:         Wait. Say that again?

JOHNS:                 It’s a government facility for the Enclave. Some of our new responders were able to gain access to it after speaking with its sentient AI, MODUS.

ARCHIVIST:         You people have known about this the entire time?

BISHOP:               Well yeah.

ARCHIVIST:         (In a Brotherhood-like panic) A pre-war Artificial Intelligence still operating out of a covert subterranean installation designed by a shadow government that apparently orders some of you to allow it to infect Bot Stops to create an endless army of robots….

BISHOP:               Yes….you know what when you put it that way we should probably be more alarmed than we have been. I probably shouldn’t have helped him regain communication with the Kovac-Muldoon orbital weapons platform.

ARCHIVIST:         OH MY GOD! YOU WHAT?

JOHNS:                 Yeah I shouldn’t have done that either.

BISHOP:               Wait, he had you do that as well?

JOHNS:                 Yeah…he said…

BISHOP:               That dastardly creepy pixelated evil-doer! He’s toying with us!

ARCHIVIST:         Right…well one conspiracy and problem at a time.

SFX: DOOR OPENS. CLOSES.

SFX: WALKING.

JOHNS:                 What exactly are you looking for in here?

ARCHIVIST:         A very large key to open this Enclave facility you mentioned. Permanently.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

BISHOP:               Looks like someone was going to torch their files.

JOHNS:                 Anything useful?

ARCHIVIST:         Hmm…nope. The usual stuff…mostly low-level surveillance. Let’s press on. In my experience, the further down you go, the more you get to the heart of an operation.

JOHNS:                 That upper stairway is blocked.

ARCHIVIST:         Down we go! Johns pardon me asking but Simon had mentioned when last we met that you had worked in Security back in the Vault.

JOHNS:                 Yeah, under Chief of Security Vince.

ARCHIVIST:         Interesting. How much did you know about what he and the Overseer were up to?

JOHNS:                 Not a damned thing. I took the inoculations when we checked in, same as everyone. Had no idea there were something a little more than that.

BISHOP:               Well…right or straight on?

ARCHIVIST:         Security checkpoint booth there? Onward I think.

SFX: DOORS OPEN.

JOHNS:                 Wait! Look out!

SFX: LASER TURRETS FIRE.

ARCHIVIST:         Blast! My EMP wave must not have penetrated this far down.

BISHOP:               I’ve got this. Taste the terrible bullets of justice vile laser turrets!

SFX: MACHINE GUN FIRES. TURRETS EXPLODE.

ARCHIVIST:         Not bad. Right…dust ourselves off…almost there. I can feel it.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

BISHOP:               Ah! Here we are. Look…

ARCHIVIST:         Defcon 1. How long have you been stuck in that state I wonder? Not as long as we might think….

JOHNS:                 Hold up! Protectron and an Assaultron!

SFX: GATLING FIRES. GRENADES THROWN.

ARCHIVIST:         Splendid! A tidy little job. That was easier than I thought. Right…through here.

BISHOP:               Heavenly days McGee! Look at these databanks.

ARCHIVIST:         This right here is the second largest archival database in the entire region. Every secret and password, conversation, and conspiracy. It’s high time we all got some answers. Now you access that terminal there and I’ll be back here.

JOHNS:                 Wait. What do you mean by key? What exactly do you want with MODUS?

ARCHIVIST:         I’m a librarian…if he is what I think he is, he could prove far more valuable than the moldy books I’ve been trying to save. Now quick now…time’s wasting.

JOHNS:                 You uh…any good with computers?

BISHOP:               Have you seen these fingers? Watch them waggle.

SFX: TYPING.

BISHOP:               Well now this is interesting. Most of the listening posts are still online monitoring communications and relaying them…but…that’s odd.

JOHNS:                 What’s that?

BISHOP:               Redirect override command by an external network.

JOHNS:                 What network?

BISHOP:               Not sure…might be able to trace it….or my name isn’t the SILVER HACKER SHROUD…too much?

JOHNS:                 Yeah, a bit.

BISHOP:               Looks like it originates from somewhere outside Washington, D.C. Maybe I can…damn.

SFX: BEEPING.

JOHNS:                 What happened?

BISHOP:               They disconnected.

JOHNS:                 So, they know someone is here? Great. Let’s hurry up. Search for Valaya, Nina.

BISHOP:               Checking…ah! Here we go. Founder, CHROMAX Genetics. Researcher for West Tek until 2071.

JOHNS:                 Chromax…I remember something about them. Got into some hot water for ethics violations and questionable areas of genetic research.

BISHOP:               Yeah…cross-species genetics. Says here she was selected for the Societal Preservation Program and assigned to Vault 96.

JOHNS:                 96? That’s right here in Appalachia.

BISHOP:               Could Hugo have gone there? Maybe found a way in?

JOHNS:                 Anything’s possible, but we’ve tried to get into a few of the vaults here and they’re impenetrable except for Vault 94 and that our crew had a hell of a time raiding that place for resources.

BISHOP:               Well it’s a good a place to start as any, but we’re going to need to figure a way to get inside.

ARCHIVIST:         How goes it you two? Find what you were looking for?

JOHNS:                 Vault 96. We need to figure out a way to get in there.

ARCHIVIST:         96…hmmm…the door will be quite impossible to breach, but…if you can’t enter from above….

BALDRICK:           Sir! Sir! I’ve detected a vertibird takeoff from AMS tower. Flight path trajectory indicates it is headed this way.

ARCHIVIST:         Blast! I need more time…Baldrick! Get down here fast. I need you to download as much of the archives as you can.

BALDRICK:           Right away sir!

JOHNS:                 Damn…search for Lazarus and then we need to book it out of here.

BISHOP:               Checking now…here’s something Project Lazarus. Classified. Level 5 access required per General Constantine Chase.

JOHNS:                 Chase? Man…there’s a blast from the past.

ARCHIVIST:         I should say…the Hero of Anchorage they called him.

JOHNS:                 Well that was then, he got a little loopy after the Anchorage Reclamation. There was a bit of a scandal over some war profiteering and illegal, unauthorized frontline use of the Psycho combat drug his own R&D company developed. He slipped out of the limelight after that to work for some defense contractor in D.C.

ARCHIVIST:         Yes…quite…I heard the same. He started working with Virtual Strategic Solutions, a software firm that worked on a line of Visiontron VR simulation for training and combat use by the military. The early attempts were a bit messy. (ACTOR NOTE: realizes he said too much) Or so I’ve heard.

BALDRICK:           Here sir! Proceeding to main frame access point.

SFX: RUNNING UP STAIRS.

ARCHIVIST:         Hurry Baldrick!

BALDRICK:           Sir, due to my limited storage capacity, the data will be heavily compressed with likelihood of data fragmentation at 48.6%.

ARCHIVIST:         Well something is better than nothing. On you go.

SFX: SERVO ACTIVATING. TAPE DRIVES SPINNING.

BALDRICK:           Download commencing.

ARCHIVIST:         Steady as she goes old friend…but do please hurry.

MEDIA: TRANSITION MUSIC.

SCENE 7: RUSTY PICK – EXT. DAY.

SFX: MEAT SIZZLES ON GRILLS. PEOPLE TALKING. LAUGHING.

SFX: MICROPHONE FEEDBACK.

CHAD:                   We got….bit of a feedback there dude.

DOGSBREATH:   On it!

SFX: MICROPHONE CLEARS.

CHAD:                   Thanks bro! Hey welcome everyone to the new Rusty Pick.

MOOSE:               It’s the Rusty Prick dude!

SFX: CROWD LAUGHS.

CHAD:                   I ain’t much for speeches and shit, but it’s been a long time since this many people were here for nothing more than some brews, some laughs and some kickass tunes. A long time. My Daddy told me what it was like before the war, how people fought and struggled…scrabbling for resources, not sure when the bombs were droppin’ one day to the next. Then they did, and then it was done. But it didn’t end….because all of us…Vault Dwellers and Raiders, milksop losers and even old perverts…

SLICK WILLY:       HOOOOOO WHEEEE!

CHAD:                   ….we’re all still here. We’ve all seen shit. We’ve all known pain, and loss…been fed lies and seen everything from big ass mind control plants to god damned monsters. It’s been hell…hell enough to bring the Devil…not just once but twice. And yet, we’re all still here. When that Vault door opened and we got booted out here with nothing but some lumber, some weird ass trading cards and some water…they told us to reclaim Appalachia. But they had it wrong…this place out here wasn’t waiting to be reclaimed. It was here to redefine us. And it has. I walked out that door without a family or a place to call home. Now I got both. Brews in the air! To friends! To family! And I hope you brought lots of caps!

SFX: CLAPPING AND CHEERING.

CHAD:                   Now enough of my snowflake bullshit. Give it up for the Free Radicals!

BROOKS:              Light ‘em up boys! 1…2….1…2……WHOOOOO!

SFX: MUSIC KICKS IN.

SUSIE:                   REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! KILLLLL!

BETSY:                   Ow! Stop biting me you little brat!

CHAD:                   Oh god damn it no! Not again!

MOOSE:               It’s fine bro, kid’s been pounding Nukas for the last hour. (whispers) Look dude you want to reign her in, she’s already added 3 customers to her petting zoo.

CHAD:                   Hey! Curtain climber maybe lay off the Nukas okay? Why don’t you and Punch fire up that thing out back and make us some bank?

SUSIE:                   Ohhhh! Shinies! REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

SFX: RUNNING

CHAD:                   I’m gonna go see what’s taking Mama Whatsherface so long with the grub.

BETSY:                   Moose…

MOOSE:               Hey! Sup Betsy!

BETSY:                   Love what you guys did with the place. You gonna buy a girl a drink or you gonna toss me down a pit trap?

MOOSE:               How about I just buy you a drink.

SFX: BEER POPPED OPEN.

MOOSE:               So, what do you think?

BETSY:                   You know…I gotta say if you would’ve told me you guys would be running the first proper business back in the Vault I would’ve reported you to security for being off your nut. But you did it. You pulled it off.

MOOSE:               Thanks! Yeah I was a goof back then. (Laughs) Remember when I’d bust up parties singing songs at yah?

BETSY:                   I think the only thing that worked harder at anything back there was Mr. Malted. (laughs)

MOOSE:               Yeah that was pretty lame of me.

BETSY:                   It really was.

MOOSE:               So you uh….seein’ anyone?

BETSY:                   I was seeing this one guy, but he got really into cryptids and worshipping moths and now he’s a cultist and banging some guy named Rodney.

MOOSE:               Huh.

BETSY:                   Yeah (awkward silence)

MOOSE:               So you wanna make out or somethin’?

BETSY:                   Sure what the hell.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE. DOOR SLAMS.

VINCE:                  Well I’ll be damned. This place is hopping…he actually did it. This is better than a gym…this is a proper hangout spot for everyone.

OVERSEER:          That’s exactly what worries me. What do we know about these “Free Radicals”?

VINCE:                  Just some rumors and chatter. They cleared the Super Mutants out of the lumber mill and set up a base there. Most of the vehicles they drove in with are toast…I imagine the potholes and off-roading on the way here must’ve done a number on them.

OVERSEER:          But they drove in Vince…things are volatile enough right now. Outside players stepping in are going to force the Judge’s hand. If Braun gets wind of this, things will get very, very complicated.

VINCE:                  We’re gonna have a bigger problem if any of them get infected, we’re going to have a second scorched outbreak after finally getting the last one under control.

OVERSEER:          They need to be warned, but knowing raiders…they need to be approached delicately. Chad seems to be developing a relationship with them…he might be a good intermediary. Let’s try and…

MAMA:                (Incoherent mumbling)

OVERSEER:          KILL IT WITH FIRE VINCE!

VINCE:                  Whoa, whoa…calm down she works here.

OVERSEER:          What the hell is it?

MAMA:                (Angry mumbling)

VINCE:                  She works here. I think she wants to know if you wanted to order anything?

OVERSEER:          Oh…uhhh…right. I’ll have a Brahmin burger with the Mirelurk “See” Food salad.

MAMA:                (Mumbling as she walks away)

OVERSEER:          That’s the first non-aggressive mole miner I’ve seen. What’s her deal?

VINCE:                  Look, I didn’t walk all this way with you to sit here whispering like a wallflower. Come on, let’s dance.

OVERSEER:          (laughs) Okay fine, fine…

CHAD:                   Moose! We’re gonna need another keg of that dark ale. Moose?

BIV:                        Seems like you haven't been lo-lo-lollygaggin'!

CHAD:                   Where’s Moose, beer brain?

BIV:                        Moose goose? You a copper? CHEESE IT BOYS! Wait a- You're not a copper! You scared the headlights outta me!

CHAD:                   God damn robots…

BROOKS:              Yo! Chad!

CHAD:                   What’s up dude?

BROOKS:              Want to introduce you to someone. Roper, this is Chad the dude I was telling you about.

ROPER:                 Nice to meet you. The boys have been singing your praises. Like the place you got here.

CHAD:                   Same bro. You got a solid crew. Not only can they jam, but they’ve been a big help getting word out about the opening.

ROPER:                 These troublemakers are the last survivors of the Western Maryland Correctional Facility. Not me, though. I was head guard.

CHAD:                   Ain’t the end times something else bro?

ROPER:                 You said it. We don’t have much, but we take care of our own.

CHAD:                   So do we.

ROPER:                 Then we hav e a mutual understanding. Which brings me to why I came all the way down here, aside from the brew, music and maybe getting laid. I’ve got an offer for you, clean and clear. The boys have a good arrangement with you and that’s their slice of the pie, but me? I’m looking for the whole damned thing.

CHAD:                   I’m listening.

ROPER:                 Everyone and I’m talkin’ everyone, is out hunting for this treasure and we’re looking for one good score to set up well and good. But we need the tea on what’s up. We’re gonna need resources, alliances and Brooks here tells me you don’t miss a beat. So, I’ve got a deal for you. You partner with us, help us dig our heels in here, chase down leads on this treasure…and we’ll keep this place fully stocked with top shelf goods.

CHAD:                   You got some balls on yah dude.

BROOKS:              Look man, if not for Roper here, we’d be still rotting in prison or as good as dead. His word is good.

CHAD:                   Tell you what, you got yourself a deal, but I need a little something extra. Brooks knows…

BROOKS:              (laughs) He wants to borrow a few gear heads to get that truck running out back.

ROPER:                 You got a deal.

CHAD:                   Deal.

ROPER:                 Just one thing…don’t fuck with me. Our crew only has a few rules…we don’t pick fights, with each other anyway…we don’t hold out on the group and we don’t steal someone else’s shit. That treasure is mine, but what’s mine I share on my terms.

CHAD:                   Fair enough bro. Now come on, let’s bust open that lead champagne! We got a pool table inside if you want to shoot some. Come inside and I’ll give you a tour.

BROOKS:              Hey Roper, we need to get ready. We’re on in a few minutes. I’ll round up the boys.

SFX: WALKING.

PATSY:                  Ugh…look at all these plebs. Excuse me! You stepped on my foot you cow! Moose? Where the hell are you?

OVERSEER:          Whoops! Don’t mind me dear. Just getting a little tipsy.

VINCE:                  She had one drink…just one. Jeez what a lightweight. Oh! Here’s your food.

MAMA:                (Mumbles)

OVERSEER:          What the hell is that? I ordered a burger and some kind of salad.

VINCE:                  She brought you a rolling pin and a broken lightbulb.

MAMA:                (Mumbles)

VINCE:                  Yeah that’s not what she ordered.

MAMA:                (Annoyed mumbles)

OVERSEER:          Now what’s that?

VINCE:                  It looks like 5 pieces of some kind of steel covered in barbecue sauce. That’s not what she ordered either. Why are you giving her random garbage?

MAMA:                (Mumbles)

VINCE:                  (Loud and slow like she’s dumb) Do you understand...what we’re asking for?

MAMA:                (Mumbles)

VINCE:                  (Loud and slow) You know what. Never mind.

VINCE:                  We’ll find food ourselves. Come on, let’s get you home. We’ll hit up the Red Sloe.

OVERSEER:          (Drunk) Don’t manhandle me…I’m the See Rover…

VINCE:                  We’ll got you a pot of coffee and some pancakes.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

PATSY:                  MOOSE! MOOSE? Where the hell is he?

SFX: MOANING AND SMASHING INSIDE LAUNDRY ROOM.

SFX: MUFFLED VOICES INSIDE.

BETSY:                   Call me a meatbag you big mean mutant man.

MOOSE:               Uhhh…I’ll show you meatbag! GRRRRRR!

PATSY:                  What in the….

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

PATSY:                  MOOSE!!!!

MOOSE:               Pats! Oh crap…uhhh…it’s not what it looks like.

BETSY:                   Hey Patsy. How’s things?

PATSY:                  You’re cheating on me? ON ME??? WITH BETSY! Who the hell do you think you are?

SFX: SHOTGUN BLASTS.

BETSY:                   Whoa! Hold on there.

MOOSE:               Pats! We’ve got guests!

PATSY:                  Well they can watch me blast Betsy into next week!

SFX: RUNNING.

CHAD:                   Hey! What the hell’s going on.

BETSY:                   You want to have a go sister? Let’s go! I’ve been waiting for this!

SFX: LASER PISTOL BLASTS.

ROPER:                 HEY! What’s this?

PATSY:                  Let me go you meathead!

ROPER:                 Cool it sister or I’ll snap your arm like a twig. Who the hell are you?

PATSY:                  I’m Patsy….this is my place.

CHAD:                   Uhh…no it really isn’t Pats.

ROPER:                 She with you or do you want the boys to handle her?

CHAD:                   Nah she’s one of mine. Pats, what is your problem?

PATSY:                  The problem? MY PROBLEM? He’s knocking boots with Betsy in the laundry room after I spent a day looking nice for this hee haw fest.

CHAD:                   Dude. You did Betsy?

MOOSE:               Yeah…

CHAD:                   She’s only like…a 4….

MOOSE:               I know.

BETSY:                   Excuse me! I’m not a 4!

PATSY:                  No. You’re dust.

SFX: SHOTGUN BLAST.

SFX: BODY FALLS.

SFX: MUSIC CUTS OUT.

ROPER:                 Now this is a party.

MOOSE:               Pats!

CHAD:                   God damn it I said no bloodbaths tonight!

BROOKS:              What’s going on?

ROPER:                 Dinner and a show Brooks. Cheerleader just blew away the Valedictorian. (laughs)

MOOSE:               That’s it. Seriously. We’re done.

PATSY:                  You don’t get to break up with me. With me! I’m breaking up with you!

CHAD:                   What a mess…Mama! We’re gonna need some more Blamco Mac and Cheese…this one got blood all over it.

RAZORHANDLE: Oh my God I just ate that!

SFX: RESPAWN NOISE.

PATSY:                  Oh look Moose. Your tramp respawned. I’m going to take a shower.

ROPER:                 What in the hell…

BROOKS:              That’s impossible…her head was blown open like a canoe.

BETSY:                   And that’s 3 for me. 3 times I die here. You know what. Screw you! Screw you! Hate you…and I’m out.

ROPER:                 She was dead as dead…what the hell was that?

BROOKS:              I don’t know…

ROPER:                 Well find out. I want some answers. The dead just don’t come back after a blast to the face like that.

CHAD:                   Back to the party folks. Shows over!

DOGSBREATH:   Boss…did you see that?

RAZORHANDLE: That was disgusting. I think I’m going to toss my cookies…she looked so sticky.

ROPER:                 Shut up Razorhandle. You boys ask around. She was wearing one of them Vault 76 suits. I want to know what’s up.

BROOKS:              Just ask Chad.

ROPER:                 He’s one of them too…if something’s going on involving them we need to know. Now get back on up there and let’s get the music going again.

BROOKS:              Yeah Boss.

SFX: WALKING AWAY.

PUNCH:                Meatbag play games! HELLLO! Step up and win prize! Big prize!

CRANE:                 Oh! My but you’re a big fella.

SUSIE:                   Oh hi there Mister. Do you want to play our Cow Toss game?

CRANE:                 Cow Toss Game huh? Well geez…are the cows treated humanely?

SFX: SPEAKER CRACKLES.

CARN. BARKER: Step on up and take a chance! Do you have the good (emphasis) fortune to get a MOOOO in one? Or are you going to (emphasis) cave…under the pressure. Pull the lever, take a chance or maybe you’ll lose your pants! (clown laugh)

PUNCH:                Cow goes MOOOOOOOOOOOO SPLAT! HOT BURGERS! (laughs) Punch like mushy yum yum burgers…

CRANE:                 Uhhhh…right. Well I guess at least the animal doesn’t go to waste. What exactly is the prize?

SUSIE:                   Mr. Punch made it! It’s neat! Show him Mr. Punch!

PUNCH:                Punch do! Mama make!

SFX: EQUIPMENT SHIFTING.

SUSIE:                   Do you have trash?

CRANE:                 Uhhh….well I just finished my beer.

SUSIE:                   Fire it up Mr. Punch!

SFX: JUNKJET SPINS UP.

PUNCH:                TRASH DAY!

SFX: BOTTLE IS YEETED AND SMASHES AGAINST A WALL.

CRANE:                 That is sweet! You can put any trash in there?

SUSIE:                   Uh huh! Mama said mumble mumble mumbleeee! Which Mr. Punch says…

PUNCH:                It make all trash go ZOOOOOOOM, then bang, splat, yay!

SUSIE:                   It’s a Junk Jet.

CRANE:                 Alright sure, what the hell. Let’s give this a go.

SUSIE:                   50 caps please.

CRANE:                 Here you go!

SFX: LEVER PULLED.

SFX: CHEERY CRACKLY CLOWN MUSIC.

(Mr. Dark in falsetto singing Pop Goes the Weasel)

All around the Mulberry Bush,

The Mulberry Bush,

The Mulberry Bush,

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey stopped to pull up his sock…

SFX: GEARS TURN. TRACK RUMBLES INTO POSITION. IRON CHAIN TIGHTENS.

SFX: COW MOOS.

CARN. BARKER: Pop goes the weasel!

SFX: SLINGSHOT NOISE. BRAHMIN COMICALLY MOOING. SPLAT NOISE.

SFX: PRICE IS RIGHT FAIL HORN.

CARN. BARKER: Ohhhh tough luck there sport! Ha ha ha! Care to try your luck again for the big win? Prizes to be had by all!

CRANE:                 Well rats…

SUSIE:                   Want to try again?

CRANE:                 Nah…I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead. (laughs)

CHAD:                   Hey hey gang, how we doin’?

SUSIE:                   OHHHHH! Chad look! All the shinies in my piggie bank!

SFX: CAPS SHAKE.

CHAD:                   Hey! That’s great. You new around here dude? Never seen you before.

CRANE:                 Oh! Yeah! Name’s Crane.

CHAD:                   Chad.

CRANE:                 This your place?

CHAD:                   You bet bro. Having a good time? Hope you brought plenty of caps. You should check out our Scrip Machine. Gamble your junk for something good.

CRANE:                 Yeah. Did that already. That shambling horror of a woman in a gas mask gave me a boxing glove that’s only good on ghouls. Not a bad con…you recycle people’s junk and sell it back to them.

CHAD:                   (laughs) That wheel of RNG is a bitch dude. You’re not from 76…I would’ve seen you.

CRANE:                 Nah, I’m from up north. Outside Buffalo, New York.

CHAD:                   Oh damn dude! That’s a haul. What’s it like out there?

CRANE:                 Bout the same as here, irradiated horrors, raiders, cannibals and cons. (laughs) Caught up with a trading caravan company headed this way and figured I’d follow along and see where the roads take me.

CHAD:                   You should swing by one night when it’s not chaos here bro, I’d love to hear some of your road stories.

CRANE:                 Yeah, that’d be great. Hey, you heard any talk of this Treasure of Appalachia business?

CHAD:                   Treasure? No…everyone’s asking about that now. We’d never heard of anything before. Where’d you hear about it?

CRANE:                 Outside the Pitt…err…Pittsburgh. We got into a bad spot and I was monitoring some radio chatter and heard an automated radio transmission, a voice telling everyone that “the Treasure of Appalachia is real”.

CHAD:                   Must’ve been broadcast outside of Appalachia, didn’t hear a peep about it…but I’ve got to admit that rollin’ around in a pile of gold or jewels would bring all the tail to the yard for a taste of Scrooge McChad.

CRANE:                 Another dead end. Thinking I’m going to start maybe searching the caves and old mines.

CHAD:                   Just stay out of that glassed cavern down in the bog.

CRANE:                 So I’ve heard. You nuked that queen yet?"

CHAD:                   Have I battled my way through a robot laser disco smoke show to poke a pissed off giant sleeping bat thing from orbit with a nuclear missile? No dude. What's wrong with you?

CRANE:                 (laughs) Fair point. I’m gonna go grab another drink.

CHAD:                   Catch you later bro.

CARN. BARKER: Take a chance, win a prize. Do you have the soul, the courage to pull the lever, toss the cow and do what has to be done to win? Just how good are you really? Sing a song of sixpence…a pocket full of rye……

CHAD:                   (Panic) Oh hell no…

CARN. BARKER: (Mr. Dark in falsetto singing Pop Goes the Weasel)

All around the Mulberry Bush…

SFX: ROCKET SLEDGE SMASHES SPEAKER.

(Distorted) Pop goes the weasel….

SFX: SMASH

(Distorted) Pop…pop….weaselllllllll

SFX: ELECTRICAL SPARKS AND IT FAILS.

CHAD:                   (Scared) Who…who made that voicebox?

PUNCH:                Mama did. It’s a silly clown man! Lots of funny!

CHAD:                   Yeah. Think we’ve had enough of funny. That’s enough games for tonight.

SUSIE:                   Why? We were just starting to make lots of shinies!

CHAD:                   Come on, we’ll get you some dessert. Punch, tomorrow you tear this thing down you hear me?

SUSIE:                   But Mr. Punch made it for me! It was special!

CHAD:                   (Angry) Look! Don’t argue with me god damn it! Go inside! It’s past your bedtime anyway.

SUSIE:                   You’re a meanie! That was mean! (Crying)

SFX: RUNNING. DOOR SLAMS.

PUNCH:                Chode mad at Punch?

CHAD:                   (sigh) No bro…I…Jesus I’m shaking…look, please just take this thing apart. Scrap it, burn it. I don’t care. I don’t like it.

SFX: WALKING. DOOR OPENS. SLAMS.

SUSIE:                   (crying softly)

SFX: DOOR KNOCKS.

CHAD:                   Hey kid. Got a minute?

SUSIE:                   No! Go away! You were yelling at me!

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

CHAD:                   I know…and I’m sorry. Come on, scooch up in your bed.

SUSIE:                   (crying) It was a present…

CHAD:                   Yeah, it is…but…you remember when you had that bad dream a few weeks back? You got all scared and upset.

SUSIE:                   It was fire…lots of fire and I couldn’t find you or anybody. I was all alone. Something bad was chasing me.

CHAD:                   That’s right, yeah. Remember we did fireworks and one of them lit the trashcan on fire.

SUSIE:                   I didn’t like that! Scary fire!

CHAD:                   Right. You got scared because of that bad dream…and sometimes bad stuff…well it doesn’t go away real easy.

SUSIE:                   But it was just a game.

CHAD:                   I had….a bad dream about something like it. Someone bad. So it reminded me of it…and I got scared.

SUSIE:                   YOU got scared?

CHAD:                   Course. Everyone does.

SUSIE:                   What scares you?

CHAD:                   (Pause) Come on…cover up here and lights out. I know it was a present, but I’ll make it up to you. Moose has these plans for a waterslide….

SUSIE:                   A WATERSLIDE!

CHAD:                   Yup…and if you conk on off to dreamland here, we’ll start working on it tomorrow. Okay?

SUSIE:                   A waterslide would be way more fun than a cow toss! Okay! Night night.

CHAD:                   Good night kid.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS. LAMP TURNED OFF. DOOR CLOSED.

CHAD:                   (quietly) Losing you. That’s what scares me.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS DOWN HALL. MUSIC GETS LOUDER.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE RUMBLES UP.

CHAD:                   What the hell is that?

SFX: DOOR KICKED OPEN.

ATOMIC ALICE:  No one get up. Name’s Atomic Alice. Which way to the bar?

SFX: EYEBOT NOISES.

ATOMIC ALICE:  I know right MOLL-E?

ROPER:                 (Whistles) Hey! Who owns the Lone Wanderer? What a beauty!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Yours truly. Name’s Alice. Atomic Alice.

MOOSE:               You don’t look like a ghoul.

ATOMIC ALICE:  It’s more of a promise than a name. You don’t want to piss me off brickhouse. Yo! Bot barback! Hit me with your strongest.

BIV:                        Y'know, some say giggle water makes your limbs into noodles. Noodles, that's fun to say. Nooooodles! Others perk right up for a fight. So, which one are you?

ATOMIC ALICE:  What is your major malfunction?

BIV:                        Once upon a time there was a brain in a jar, and he lived happily ever after. Drinks come true it can happen to youuuu if you’re young at heart. (hic)

SFX: CHUGGING.

SLICK WILLY:       Excuse moi, my blossoming buttercup, but please allow me to pay for your firewater of choice. Wait a minute! It’s YOU!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Whatever. Hit me again!

BIV:                        Does it smell like alcohol down here, or is it just me?

SLICK WILLY:       Ohhhh! You tollbooth wrecking bat from hell! You’re gonna get a piece of Ignatius Willard!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Right. Look gramps I ain’t interested. Beat it or we’ll see just how fast you can run with MIRV’s raining down on you.

SLICK WILLY:       This ain’t over! Look out ladies! Willy’s still looking! Well hey you! You have the pertiest…

SFX: PUNCH.

SLICK WILLY:       You broke ol’ Willy’s nose!

PATSY:                  That was pretty badass! You don’t take any shit.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Nope! Alice.

PATSY:                  Patsy.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Wanna grab a seat?

PATSY:                  Sure.

ATOMIC ALICE:  This your place?

PATSY:                  Nah…not really…

ATOMIC ALICE:  What’s up? You look like you could cry or kill…

PATSY:                  Had a terrible day…some jackass at the Whitespring got me kicked out. My hair was ruined and then I totally caught my boyfriend cheating tonight. Thinking of getting out of here and like…doing anything else. This place sucks.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Did you gut him?

PATSY:                  What? No! That would’ve been fun, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

ATOMIC ALICE:  How do you mean?

PATSY:                  I mean I could kill him and he’d just come back.

ATOMIC ALICE:  (chokes on beer) I’m sorry what?

PATSY:                  Yeah like…we’re from Vault 76 and they totally did something to us, we can’t die.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Really.

PATSY:                  Yeah.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Welp…that explains it. So, I could nuke this whole room right now if I wanted…

PATSY:                  Well yeah you could, but some of these people aren’t from our vault or anything.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Hell…this is gonna be fun. You heard anything about this treasure? Heard this broadcast about some treasure of Appalachia but no one around here knows anything about it.

PATSY:                  I hadn’t either until today funny enough. Now everyone is talking about it. Some of those fancy pants people at the Whitespring seemed to know something but then I got my ass handed to me by that Damon Toon and the bots that work there.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Hey, Whitespring…is that that big white resort place?

PATSY:                  Yeah it is.

ATOMIC ALICE:  And this Damon guy got you booted from the joint?

PATSY:                  Yeah…he’s a fashionista wanna be.

ATOMIC ALICE:  How about we go rain nuclear fire on his parade and maybe we dig up some clues on this treasure.

PATSY:                  NOW! You’re talkin’.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE STARTS.

ATOMIC ALICE:  OH HELL NO.

SFX: RUNNING. DOOR OPENS.

SFX: MOTORCYCLE RIDING AROUND.

SLICK WILLY:       HOOOOOOO WHEEEEEEE! HOW DO YOU LIKE THEM APPLES YOU NUKE HUCKIN’ HUSSY! SOMEONE LAY DOWN A RAMP! OL’ WILLY’S GONNA JUMP THE SHARK!

MOOSE:               Go Willy! (Laughs)

ATOMIC ALICE:  That’s it. Pass me that beer keg.

BIV:                        Our finest keg of Old Possum for the lady. Just remember m’lady beer doesn’t have much (hiccup) vitamins, that’s why you have to drink lots of it.

PATSY:                  What are you doing?

SFX: HOPPING NOISE.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Keg stand. Pour the whole thing in. Let’s go!

SLICK WILLY:       Well, come on fancy lady! You gonna just stand there and drink or you gonna try and chase Willy down! Let’s see you toss them MIRV’s at the sexiest miner 49er on 2 wheels! HOOOOO WHEEEEEEEEEEE!

SFX: CHUGGING NOISE.

MOOSE:               Oh…my…

CHAD:                   God…she’s a…

CHAD:                   JUNKIE’S BUILD!

MOOSE:               JUNKIE’S BUILD!

ATOMIC ALICE:  (Dark demonic voice) Alice angry. Alice kill now.

PATSY:                  Badass!

CHAD:                   Bro! She’s going to wreck you!

SLICK WILLY:       Oh no! Look I put it back!

SFX: MOTORCYCLE STOPS. RUNNING.

CHAD:                   I’d run dude!

SLICK WILLY:       I’m sorry! Ol’ Willy was just joshin’ yah! I’m past my prime!

SFX: FAT MAN LOADED.

MOOSE:               Oh bro…this is gonna be awesome.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Get….nuked.

SFX: FAT MAN FIRES. MIRV CANISTERS BREAK APART.

SLICK WILLY:       Looks like Slick Willy’s blasting off again! (Goofy noise)

SFX: MASSIVE EXPLOSION. SHOCK WAVE HITS BAR. BREAKS A FEW WINDOWS.

CHAD:                   God damn it…I just fixed those.

BIV:                        Hey, hey…you guys want to (hiccup) I forget…someone pass me some giggle water I’m coming down!

PATSY:                  That was epic! Now THAT is what a real raider is like.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Come on Double P. Let’s go wreck the mall over there at posh palace.

PATSY:                  Hey Moose.

MOOSE:               Yeah?

PATSY:                  Get bent.

MOOSE:               Kay.

CHAD:                   Don’t call or anything! Bye Pats! (Exhale) Finally…

SFX: MOTORCYCLE REVS AND PEELS OUT.

MEDIA: TRANSITION MUSIC

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS

BISHOP:               Skies are still clear up there.

JOHNS:                 Good, but they should be here soon.

BALDRICK:           64% of the archive has been stored…anomalous program detected…isolating. Quarantine measure put in place. Resuming download.

JOHNS:                 What was that about?

ARCHIVIST:         Some kind of active program running. Attempted to access Baldrick’s AI. Strange. Commander, you were Vault-Tec security staff…could your access codes still work?

JOHNS:                 I mean maybe, but my entitlements were only for Vault 76 access…it’s not like we could just stroll into any vault.

ARCHIVIST:         Well yes, but I mean if you were reassigned to another vault or multiple vaults, you would be granted entitlements automatically provided the mainframes are still in operation and it hasn’t gone tits up in there.

JOHNS:                 I guess yeah, I had full access in 76 save for what Vince and the Overseer were working on.

ARCHIVIST:         Yes…quite. We’re going to need those two…

JOHNS:                 But you’d need a mainframe connected to the Vault-Tec network that’s still online. Where exactly are we supposed to find that?

BISHOP:               Well I know. Vault-Tec University. It was a testing vault. If a vile, highly unethical multinational conglomerate of doom was going to keep their finger on the pulse of Appalachia, they’d start with impressionable and often inebriated college kids.

ARCHIVIST:         Precisely! Top marks.

SFX: EXPLOSIONS ABOVE. STOMPING FEET.

JOHNS:                 Ah shit…they’re here.

ARCHIVIST:         No, no….Baldrick how much longer?

BALDRICK:           67% sir…

BISHOP:               We need to get out of here…and fast.

JOHNS:                 No other exits.

BALDRICK:           Rainy day protocol sir?

ARCHIVIST:         An excellent idea.

SFX: BAG UNZIPPED.

ARCHIVIST:         Baldrick and I discovered a secret installation beneath Mama Dolce’s when I had a hankering for soup and happened to notice something odd with an outflow pipe. It looked like Chinese spies had been operating down there for some time but I found some stolen blueprints for an Advanced Stealth Boy and after some tinkering with this little guy here.

SFX: SWITCH THROWN.

SFX: SHIMMERING CLOAK FIELD ACTIVATES.

ARCHIVIST:         It’s a fairly wide radius so we should be completely concealed for 15 minutes max.

JOHNS:                 Quiet…here they come…

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS.

JUDGE:                 Fletcher, set the charges in the mainframe room there. Smith and Monroe dump and pull the drives from those terminals and then do a sweep. The fuselage on that vertibird is still hot. Whoever was poking around down here will still be in the area.

FLETCHER:           Sir, with our timetable we can’t afford any delays, not with those caravans on the borders. We don’t have enough Judiciary Guards to capture and contain.

JUDGE:                 We won’t have to. We’ll have former landowners, raiders and apparently some military unit showing up here soon. Toss all those people into the mix together and they’re bound to eliminate one another.

FLETCHER:           Should we try and save any of the archival data? Most of this will be irretrievable.

JUDGE:                 There’s nothing of value here but the secrets of dead men and a burned empire. But there’s enough sensitive information in here to spoil the experiment and cause us some problems down the line with Phase III. Burn it all down.

FLETCHER:           Very well.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

ARCHIVIST:         (whispering) Jesus Christ they’re going to burn us alive. Baldrick where are we at?

BALDRICK:           (whispering) 87% sir.

SFX: CANISTERS PLACED.

FLETCHER:           We need explosive charges back there and there boys. We get one shot to do this right.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

SFX: TYPING.

FLETCHER:           What are you doing?

JUDGE:                 I like redundancies Fletcher. I’m taking the coolant systems offline for the reactor core. By the time we light the fuse, anything that’s left will be vaporized in a nice, clean crater. There! That should do it. If anyone was still snooping around they’re about to get a very big surprise.

FLETCHER:           Let’s go fellas! Bring the drives.

JUDGE:                 I need you to drop me off to upload the new programming into ZAX. Bring those drives back to the Tower and transfer everything to the mainframe.

FLETCHER:           You want me to activate the charges?

JUDGE:                 Nah, I got this.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

SFX: ELECTRONIC CLICK. TIMER COUNTING DOWN.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE.

ARCHIVIST:         He’s out of line of sight. We should book it for the door. Baldrick?

BALDRICK:           89% sir…I’m sorry…maximum storage reached. Continuing will destabilize my primary memory core.

ARCHIVIST:         Damn it...good enough I guess.

BISHOP:               We best start moving…

SFX: FOOTSTEPS APPROACH.

SFX: GRENADE PIN PULLED. TOSSED.

SFX: EMP GRENADE CLATTERS TO THEIR FEET.

JOHNS:                 Ah shit…

SFX: EMP PULSE.

SFX: STEALTH BOY FAILS.

BALDRICK:           AHHH! I….am…disabled….sir….sir sir sirrrrrrrrrrrrrr sirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

JOHNS:                 Fire!

BISHOP:               Eat my terrible justice you Nonjudicious Judge of Anything BUT Justice!

SFX: MACHINE GUN SHOOTS OFF.

JUDGE:                 Commander Johns! That you? Nice to see you’re still kicking around. How’s Kori?

SFX: GAS GRENADES TOSSED.

JOHNS:                 (coughing) Hallucinogen gas….head for the door…

BISHOP:               (coughing) Can’t see the damned door.

JUDGE:                 Hey fellas.

SFX: TESLA FIRES.

JOHNS:                 Ah!

BISHOP:               …JUSTICE…

SFX: BODIES DROP TO GROUND.

ARCHIVIST:         (coughing) Well this went poorly. Hold tight Baldrick.

SFX: SCRAP KIT OPENED.

JUDGE:                 Oh no you don’t!

SFX: VORTEX CLOSES.

JUDGE:                 Damn it…

FLETCHER:           JUDGE! JUDGE!

JUDGE:                 It’s fine Fletcher. Found our hackers.

FLETCHER:           Commander Johns! And…that’s Charles Bishop from the radio station.

JUDGE:                 Tag em and we’ll bring them to 51. Might be interesting to see how well Johns and a Silver Shroud larper wannabe make out in the new simulation.

FLETCHER:           But if the New Responders find out…

JUDGE:                 They’ll do what exactly? Once I finished the upgrades, take a detachment and seize Responders HQ.

FLETCHER:           But sir! We can’t just…

JUDGE:                 Fletcher I’m getting tired of repeating myself.

FLETCHER:           Yes…sir.

JUDGE:                 They have a choice. They can join the Judiciary Guard or stick them in isolation in the tower. Make sure to run them through Project Somnus for programming first.

FLETCHER:           Sure, you men…take them upstairs.

JUDGE:                 Clock’s ticking…we need to get airborne.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS.

SFX: SLOW SHIFT TO OUTSIDE AMBIANCE.

SFX: VORTEX OPENS AND CLATTERS INSIDE SCRAP CONTAINER. LATCH OPENS.

ARCHIVIST:         Phew…I hate fast travel. Good thing I had an end point in the veritibird. Baldrick…wait here...

BALDRICK:           dam….dammmaaageee critical….require…..repair…

SFX: SLOW WALKING ON PAVEMENT.

SFX: VERTIBIRD WINGS ROARING ON HILL.

JUDGE:                 Move it or lose it! Reactors going critical. Johns gonna love this…

SFX: SYRINGER LOADED.

SFX: ELECTRICAL BEEPING.

ARCHIVIST:         They’re out of range…need to wait for them to get overhead.

JUDGE:                 Let’s go!

SFX: CARGO DOOR SLAMS.

SFX: VERTIBIRD RISES AND TAKES OFF.

ARCHIVIST:         Ah ha! Perfect!

SFX: SYRINGER FIRES. METAL PING.

SFX: PIPBOY BEACON DINGS.

ARCHIVIST:         Tracker dart is working! Now let’s just see where you’re off to.

SFX: EMERGENCY KLAXON BELOW.

ARCHIVIST:         Oh rabbits…

SFX: RUNNING.

SFX: DOOR OPENS. SLAMS.

ARCHIVIST:         This is going to be a close one.

SFX: VERTIBIRD POWERS UP

ARCHIVIST:         More power…come on….

SFX: VERTIBIRD LIFTS OFF.

ARCHIVIST:         Punching it! Hold on Baldrick!

SFX: VERTIBIRD SOARS.

SFX: CHAIN OF EXPLOSIONS BELOW.

ARCHIVIST:         The reactors going…going low…gotta get to treeline.

SFX: NUCLEAR BLAST.

SFX: SHOCK WAVE HITS.

SFX: EMERGENCY BEEPING.

ARCHIVIST:         Come one old girl hold it together…

SFX: SHOCKWAVE PASSES.

ARCHIVIST:         Phew…hold on Commander…Bishop. I’m right behind you.

SFX: PIPBOY BEEPING.

SFX: VERTIBIRD SOARS AWAY AS FIRE RUMBLES FROM SUGAR GROVE.

SFX: SLOW FADE TO WIND AND ASH. GROANING METAL.

SFX: VEHICLES ROARING TO A STOP.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

MEG:                     Take a good long look Diehards. We’ve been gone too long…time to take back what’s ours and this time we’re gonna have it all.

SFX: MUSIC BUILDS.

KEN:                      Our story continues in episode 16, “Meanwhile in Nuclear Winter”. Until then, and as always, I hope to see you in the Wasteland.

SFX: OUTRO MUSIC.