CAST & VOICE TALENT

• GUEST: Pete Hines ~ The Judge
• GUEST: Alex Cazares ~ Rose
• Alexander Luthor ~ Chad Johnson, Bear, Dr. Stanislaus Braun
• Kenneth Vigue ~ Narrator, Simon Rex
• Sean Baptiste ~ Brooks Calvert
• Lady Devann ~ Atomic Alice
• t0nik ~ Crane
• Jessica Duval ~ Susie, Guard #5, Ash Rose
• Taylor Jinx Knight ~ Amata Hayes
• Clint Winberry ~ Moose Miller, Guard #6
• Christian Mower ~ Punch, the Night Wolf, Mr. Gutsy
• Fenwa Teryen ~ Charles Bishop
• Jessica Marie Dickey ~ Patsy Parker, MaryAnne, Guard #2
• Keemo Provorse ~ Jake White
• Dr. Mark Hauswirth ~ Brian, Announcer, MODUS, Baldrick, Radical #2
• Kevin Chenard ~ Mamma Murmrgh, Fletcher
• Robert Solomon ~ High Priest Solomon, Razorhandle, Radical #4
• Robyn Meif ~ Roper
• Richard Oliver ~ Guard #3, Guard #7
• Simon Bugg ~ Guard #1, Guard #8
• Mary Kalopodes-Saunders ~ Overseer, Computer
• Joseph Picard ~ Albert Vince
• Christopher J. Morrow ~ Fritz, Firebreather, Recruit David White, Radical #3
• Steven Brink~ Sol, Mort
• Andreas Somville ~ Gunner, Duke
• Rachel Cerullo ~Polly, Dispatch
• J.J. Mills ~ Josef Zelenovic, Jesse
• Matt Bartlett – Captain Ryan Sinclair
• Tooniversal ~ Damon Toon, Wilkinson
• Elder Memes ~ Beckett
• Ray Middelthon ~ Commander Connor Johns, Radical #1
• Lucy Middelthon ~ Lt. Kori Anders
• BozunZest ~ Jack Ryker
• Elizabeth Roseway ~ Godessnerd
• Tom Houston ~ Tom Houston
• PurpleRGamer ~ Willian Kensy
• Pre ~ Colonel Pre
• Irvine ~ Knight Commander Irvine
• Dylan Kane ~ Radical #2
• Mawtater ~ Duchess

 

KEN: This is Kenneth Vigue and we are, finally back and good God have I missed all of you. This year has been, a year of change for me…moving halfway across the country, as well as some ways in which our lives at home have evolved has been just: a lot. I appreciate everyone’s patience and promise…that we have many miles more to walk with our story. This episode, Vault Tec Rises is an over 3-hour feature presented in two parts, with the second part dropping just before Halloween. I also want to ask and make sure you all are well. One of the most humbling and unexpected things these last 5 years has been hearing from so many of you how much the show means to you, has helped through a late shift or long drive or even just a rough patch and those messages mean the world to me. Most recently I attended QuakeCon here in Texas and getting the chance to meet some of you face to face was incredible and I’ll be going again next year. I also want to lightly tease that I’m working on something really special with Bethesda that I can’t talk about yet, but will be quite soon once they give me the green light. The last bit of news is this: two dear friends of mine, Philip Lonidier and Matthew Bartlett who are right now in pre-production for a spin-off podcast called, “Appalachia, A Fallout 76 Story” set in our universe that weaves in between our stories, but has a unique tale, characters and feel all its own. It’ll have a dedicated team of editors and new voice actors they have in mind, as well as encounters with the characters you already know and love. Best of all, if you’re hungry for more Andreas Somville who voices the Devilish Mr. Dark, this spin-off show will have quite a lot of him. The writing is fantastic and I can’t wait for you to hear it next year. This November will mark 6 years since the launch of Fallout 76, from which this podcast was born. Recently I’ve been introducing some new friends to Fallout 76 and found myself not only nostalgic and reflective of the memories made in game, with our cast, and the strangely unexpected success and recognition by Bethesda, writeups in newspapers, Forbes Magazine and beyond. We are closing on over 1 million of you having taken this journey with us, no small number. As we approach the 6^th anniversary of Fallout 76, our season 2 is rapidly closing. As you heard in our last few episodes…tensions are high. We often don’t look for war, but it comes all the same and everyone, everyone you’ve come to laugh at, love or hate these past 5 years is going to pick a side. The late, great Bethesda game developer Ferret Baudoin passed away before he could record for this story and the subsequent episodes. In this episode, we say good bye to Dolos the Archivist and this remarkable man who gave me the best writing advice I’ve ever been given after sharing with him a struggle I was having with some arcs of this show. “Writing is like exercise,” he said. “If you keep doing the same thing, working the same muscles, the same pattern and repetition, you eventually plateau. You’ve got to change it up, challenge yourself, even scare yourself with chances taken. If you don’t, you’ll still be writing, sure. But it could be GREAT writing.” He was right. Thank you Ferret. As this story opens, we step a year into the future and glimpse things yet to come, fragments of a future you’ve already heard pieces of. Below us, Hell has come to Appalachia now torn apart by war. The Battle for Appalachia is waging strong in the Cranberry Bog. Just there, a tattered flag still flying in Watoga, the flag that once meant hope and salvation, but now meant something far different. It is the symbol for Vault-Tec and its portent? Vault-Tec Rises…

SFX: OMINOUS CLOCK TICKING.

MEDIA: VAULT-TEC FANFARE

ANNOUNCER:   You will emerge! (Pause) Today’s episode: Let’s Go To War! (pause) Following total atomic annihilation, our great nation will be forever changed. Our cities will be in ruin. Infrastructure and industry, law and order, all will collapse as former farmers and executives, housewives and green grocers turn to their baser instincts in the fight for survival. As a handpicked resident of Vault 76, you and your fellow Residents have been carefully selected as the best and brightest that the Old World had to offer. Following Reclamation Day, it will be your sworn duty to emerge, rebuild and reclaim. As a custodian of our history, ideals, and faith in democracy, capitalism, and free enterprise, you are tasked with nothing less than the rebuilding of America itself. Uh oh! Undesirables. As you embark on your Great Work, at times you may encounter friction from opposing factions with ideas of their own on the establishment of a new empire. At times this may also include former friends and neighbors of Vault 76 seduced by the lawless debauchery of limitless freedom. While peace is preferable, at times armed conflict is the only way to eliminate these human roadblocks in your quest to rebuild. Gather your friends and allies, horde resources and plan your campaign, because the only way forward is the time-honored tradition of war. (repeats)

SFX: FILM SNAPS.

MEDIA: DISCHORDANT ORCHESTRATION.

CHAD:                   I just speak into this thing? Okay dude.

PUNCH:                I play drums now?

CHAD:                   Yeah dude we’re recording. We need like…background music and stuff for this thing to get people hyped for battle.

PUNCH:                Punch go?

CHAD:                   Yeah. Go for it bro. Okay… hey Vault…

SFX: WILD DRUM HITS WITH NO RHYME OR REASON.

PUNCH:                (singing) PUNCH LOVE FOR YOU IS LIKE A CLOCK…PUNCHZUKAAAAAAA. DO YOU WANT TO….

CHAD:                   DUDE! Quieter! And you’re not supposed to be singing. This is like…all serious and shit. Play something else.

PUNCH:                Duhhh…okay. (mumbles) Punch make music Chad say. Punch make music….Chad say not like music.

SFX: CRASHING.

PUNCH:                (annoyed) Okay go. Punch play.

CHAD:                   Uhhh. Right.

SFX: KAZOO MUSIC.

CHAD:                   (mumbles) Jesus Christ dude… (regular volume) Hey Vault people! You’ve just enlisted in the BroFit fueled fighting force called Chad Force 69. Look, the rest of this Vault-Tec training film about battle strategy and warfare and shit was ruined when Mama Murmurghles used it as a stand in for TP when she ran out of wood shingles, so we’ve uhhh…improved on it so you know what you’re getting into as a new recruit in the Battle for Appleasia…Applatuta…umm Battle for Applesauce. Moose has a few guidelines about your build.

MOOSE:               Thanks dude. (Strong Full Metal Jacket vibes) Well if this isn’t the sorriest bunch of clean faced, spit polished plebs that has ever passed through here. I am Gunnery Sergeant Moose, your senior drill instructor. Welcome to CAMP Definitely and here at…

CHAD:                   It’s Defiance dude.

SFX: SAD KAZOO NOISE.

MOOSE:               (whispers) Punch cut it dude.

PUNCH:                This boring. Punch go make more Battle Brew to make meatbags strong. Needs more cat. Here kitty kitty!

MOOSE:               At Camp Defiance you can expect a rigorous 24-hour grueling program of BroFit Certified training to take even the most radworm infested, CAMP Building, Cap Spending WHALES of you and turn you into a sweaty palmed, shoot and moan orgasmically killing machine. We’ll teach you to survive! We’ll teach how to fix your builds! You’re gonna GRIND until you can conquer anything that stands in your way. This is it recruits! The final battle. Paladin Rahmani and Scribe Valdez are going to run you through their Brotherhood Power Armor training. You will grease yourselves up and slide on into tin can tall boy with the same kind of “OH MAH GOD IS THIS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE?” thrill that you sorry virgins have never experienced. You will be trained in Power Armor. You will wear your uniform at all times. You will have your guns cleaned, repaired, named, and loaded at all times. And if I see you walking around with anything less than a 3 star I’ve going to grease it up and shove it so far up your ass we’ll be engaged and planning a getting to know you brunch with my family.

CHAD:                   Uhhh…what?

MOOSE:               (continuing) Some of you will FAIL this course. Some of you will RAGE QUIT. You’ll complain about your fellow soldiers who you think paid to win because he’s got a fucking working refrigerator or a slick paintjob for his smoke wagon. Yuck it up now chucklefucks! Because like it or not when all of this is over…some of you will be sucking your last breath in the dirt choking on your own blood and vomit and asking yourself why didn’t I just stay in Atlantic City?

CHAD:                   Damn dude.

MOOSE:               Was that good? Was I scary?

CHAD:                   I’m about half mast.

PUNCH:                Here kitty kitty!

SFX: CAT HISSING.

ATOMIC ALICE:  HEY! TELL THIS BIG GREEN BOOGER THAT IF HE TRIES TO EAT MY CAT ONE MORE TIME I’M GONNA JUNKJET HIM IN THE PEEHOLE! GET BACK HERE!

PUNCH:                RUN AWAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

SFX: GUNSHOTS.

MOOSE:               What do you think our chances are dude?

CHAD:                   We’re gonna win.

SFX: PROJECTOR SKIPS, AUDIO DISTORTS.

SCENE 1: CRANBERRY BOG. EXT. DAY.

SFX: EXPLOSIONS AND GUNFIRE.

SFX: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. PANTING.

SFX: RADIO STATIC.

VINCE:                  (gunshots in background) Our position is compromised! Repeat! Artillery position is compromised. The sons of bitches have the high ground! We’re headed down the mountain to regroup with Blue Ridge! All forces press in! We need to take out that tesla cannon!

SOLOMON:         (Panic) They’ve broken through the *static inaudible* Crimson Prospect has fallen. Repeat Crimson Prospect has fallen. *static inaudible* I curse you in the name of he who flaps against the porch light! My winged lord of dusty vapors! Why have you forsaken us?! We need orders! (Pause) Fucking amateurs. We’re falling back to the Ranger District Office. All squads fall back *static inaudible* we can’t fight this on both fronts!

BRIAN:                  Excuse me Mr. High Priest Solomon but that action will likely result in death or dismemberment. Scouts have reported that Fissure Site Epsilon has been activated. (Panic) Oh hairy titnipples! It appears that I’ve got five of them on our six. We’re in the air. Inbound for the Abandoned Bog Town, some air support would be just ducky right now. I’m having a spot of bother with these pesky sonic attacks. Oh shucks…my port engine on fire…we’re *static inaudible* coming in hot *static inaudible* and yes blushing bride MaryAnne, you too are personified by pleasant features, a lithe figure and a pair of perky *static* cut out*

BECKETT:             *static* Where the hell is my backup? We’re pinned down at Cranberry Glade, repeat. I’ve got civilians here. Anyone there? What do we do? WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO?! *explosions static cutout*

SFX: SQUELCHING MUD. SUDDENLY A GUNSHOT. DIRT RICOCHETS.

HOUSTON:          HOLD IT RIGHT THERE! This scope can turn your head into a canoe at 20 yards.

WILLIAN:             (Heavy breathing from running) JESUS CHRIST HOUSTON! You almost took my ear off!

HOUSTON:          Who is that?

WILLIAN:             Can I get a yee… ?

HOUSTON:          HAW! (Chuckles) (Note the letter N instead of M) Willian! Where the hell have you been?! You were on recon duty at Blue Ridge before we lost you.

WILLIAN:             (Still panic breathing) General reassigned me. Where is he?

HOUSTON:          Monitoring comms traffic at Red Rocket.

WILLIAN:             Thanks.

HOUSTON:          No word on Commander Johns?

WILLIAN:             (sigh) No. There’s nothing left down there. And Knight Shin is…who knows.

HOUSTON:          Shit…I’m sure he…

WILLIAN:             Yeah…hope so.

SFX: RUNNING.

SFX: TROOP MOVEMENTS.

1. GUSTY: Get your asses in gear you tick sucking guttertrash! They’re coming down 65! We’ve got 40 minutes to shore up the perimeter! I WANT TO SEE ASSES AND ELBOWS! GO GO GO!

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

SFX: RADIO STATIC.

WILLIAN:             Sir?

MODUS:              …the KOVAC-MULDOON orbital weapons platform has been…damaged by the unknown force from high Earth orbit. At last scan the object will be entering the atmosphere in t minus 50 minutes and counting. It is…unlikely that the Bot Stops can be repaired in time. Communication…terminated. Commencing lockdown procedures.

WILLIAN:             (more insistent) Sir??! I have them as ordered. Almost all of them are here. There were a few that were damaged in the firefight I couldn’t salvage, but those were labeled, “The Misery of Speed Dating and the Peter Ennis Affair”.

SFX: BAG UNZIPPED. HOLOTAPES SPILLED UNTO TABLE.

WILLIAN:             We…uhh…we were ambushed outside Huntersville. The Insult Bot…didn’t make it. If he hadn’t held them off…you…should’ve heard him. He went out singing, insulted their mothers. (pause) Sir? (pause) General?

SIMON:                Get out.

WILLIAN:             Beckett and the Cultists are pinned down at Cranberry Bog what should we…

SIMON:                I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!

SFX: CUP THROWN SMASHED.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS. DOOR CLOSED.

SFX: TAPE LOADED INTO PIPBOY.

SIMON:                Begin recording. (sigh) This is an old story, so skip ahead if you’ve heard it before, but bear with me because this story reshaped the world with nothing more than words. Far to the east, there once was a mighty kingdom, once ruled by a great king who in due time was defeated by the greatest foe of all: time. Weak and with the specter of death at the door, seven states would rise ruled by seven would be kings, each hungry for power over all. Predictably, war broke out…centuries wore on and in the chaos was born a child with a keen intellect, destined for greatness. His skill as a warrior wasn’t in sword alone, but in his mind. His ability to see, anticipate and control the battlefield became legendary. He poured his great knowledge, instincts and strategies into a book of 13 chapters that found its way to the King of a neighboring state. So intrigued was the King by these new lessons, this fresh approach to war, that he summoned the man before him. The King grinned slyly, “I have read your great work and wonder if your theories in mastering the soldier can be applied, as you say, to any soldier.” “They can,” replied the man. “And if I was YOUR General, I could fashion any soldier into a warrior.” The King clapped his hands in amusement, the bait taken. He was tickled by the man’s cheek, “If you think so, would you submit to a test?”, asked the King. The man was instructed to wait before the palace for the test to begin. In the light of the setting sun, the King gazed down from a gold pavilion above, as 180 of the King’s concubines emerged from the palace, their laughter echoing off the palace walls. The man, unshaken, confidently split them into two companies, each led by one of the King’s favorites. Wielding halberds and battle-axes, the drums began to play, but each time an order was given the women descended into laughter. At last, the man announced, "If words of command are not clear and distinct, if orders are not thoroughly understood, the general is to blame. But if his orders ARE clear, and the soldiers nevertheless disobey, then it is the fault of their officers." He ordered the leaders of the two companies, the King’s favorites, beheaded immediately. In a blind panic, the King sent a messenger down to the courtyard admitting defeat, that he was satisfied by the test and did not wish to lose his most valued prizes. The man sent the messenger back with a single sentence that stated that once he receives the King’s commission as General of his forces, in that capacity, some commands cannot be followed. With that, the two leaders were beheaded and two more appointed as leaders of the company. When the drums began again, all 178 strong followed his commands with perfect accuracy and flawless precision in deafening silence. The test was concluded, the King defeated, but the man’s performance before the whole court could not be ignored. He was given command of all of the King’s forces. This legend would become history and legend once more. He would be honored in name as Master Sun, Sun Tzu (note: pronounced ZOO). Just 13 chapters, written on bamboo, that would start a war, end a war and give rise to the Chinese imperial dynasty. But the power of his words didn’t end there, oh no, they wormed their way into the minds of the greatest military commanders around the world for over 2,000 years, transforming war itself into an art form. (pause) Everyone has their favorites, but mine have always been lessons five and six. “There are not more than five musical notes, yet the combinations of these five give rise to more melodies than can ever be heard.” Vault-Tec. Their work here in Appalachia was one of those notes in a composition to take life itself, break it down to 1’s and 0’s and redefine what it means to be human, and in so doing corrupted the very souls of over 500 of us. 500 of us who unwittingly served as the blood and bones on which their new empire would be formed, their formulae perfected. These tapes serve as evidence and witness of the Appalachia Experiment, designed to give them the power of the gods, no longer pray to the vultures of death, the buzzard of time and the hubris of man. Sun Tzu may have put pen to paper and viewed war as an art form, in actuality war was and always will be the inevitable oncoming storm and terminus of that hubris. These final chapters, these final tapes chronicle the Battle for Appalachia. And this is how it started…

MEDIA: MAIN THEME

SFX: TROOPS RUNNING. VERTIBIRD APPROACHES. LANDS. DOOR OPENS.

GUARD #1:          Evening sir, you look…terrible.

FLETCHER:           Take a detachment to Vault 51! We’re gonna need scrubbers and Radiation Suits.

GUARD #1:          What happened?

FLETCHER:           Reactor blew…half the mountainside came down on us. Scour everything and see if anything is salvageable.

GUARD #1:          Oh shit…he’s gonna be pissed.

FLETCHER:           Tell me something I don’t know.  Get a fucking move on! And transport those excavators from below out there too!

GUARD #1:          Yes sir. You! Banks, Owens, round up a salvage team! We’re going into a rad zone! MOVE IT!

SFX: GUARD RUNS OFF.

SFX: DOORS OPEN.

GUARD #2:          Evening Sir.

FLETCHER:           Where is he?

GUARD #2:          In the server room. Something about a mysterious broadcast.

FLETCHER:           Oh great.

GUARD #2:          Hey are we still on for Sunday night?

FLETCHER:           You boys carry on without me. Not exactly in the mood for Gin Rummy...(mumbles) unless its downing a bottle of the stuff.

SFX: ELEVATOR BUTTON PUSHED. DOORS CLOSED. ELEVATOR ASCENDS.

MEDIA: PATRIOTIC MUZAK PLAYS.

FLETCHER:           (mumbling) Out of control…this is just out of control…

SFX: FLOOR DINGS. ELEVATOR DOORS OPEN.

SFX: COMPUTER BANKS. IN THE DISTANCE YELLING.

SFX: ELEVATOR DING. DOORS OPEN.

SFX: ENCRYPTED MESSAGE STATIC.

GUARD #3:          It’s…nonsense…just static.

JUDGE:                 That is not static. I know static. This is intentional…repeating. 3 Begin and then 3 End. Listen…

FLETCHER:           Your honor.

JUDGE:                 Shhh. Listen to that Fletcher.

FLETCHER:           But sir, we really need to talk.

JUDGE:                 Shut up damn it and listen.

FLETCHER:           What am I listening for?

JUDGE:                 A call in the dark…run that through the spectrogram.

GUARD #3:          Yes sir.

SFX: KEYS TYPED.

JUDGE:                 There…look! I knew it.

FLETCHER:           Binary code?

JUDGE:                 That it is Fletcher. We’ve been monitoring encrypted radio broadcasts for months now approaching from the west. Give me a printout of this.

SFX: PRINTER STARTS.

GUARD #3:          You want me to run it downstairs?

JUDGE:                 Yeah, have the eggheads take a crack at it. Use the Caesar cipher like the last one.

FLETCHER:           Can we triangulate the signal?

JUDGE:                 That’s the interesting thing…it’s coming from above via satellite. Someone with military clearance is being very, very naughty. We’re supposed to have complete control by now.

GUARD #3:          We sir?

JUDGE:                 Get that downstairs and tell them I want answers in the next few days. The last thing we need is more fucking outsiders here to contend with.

GUARD #3:          Sir!

SFX: RUNNING:

JUDGE:                 Now what did you… (pause) what the hell happened to you?

FLETCHER:           Vault 51. It’s gone.

JUDGE:                 Come again?

FLETCHER:           The Vault, ZAX, everything gone.

JUDGE:                 (barely contained anger) Fletcher…today I was having a good day. Would you care to explain what the fuck happened??

FLETCHER:           ZAX took your words of initiative to heart and decided to start rounding up EVERYONE he could get a net around with the cargo bots and then sealed the facility. He even shut off the damned ventilation system because the simulations weren’t quite going his way.

JUDGE:                 And?

FLETCHER:           What?

JUDGE:                 And yet YOU are still standing here.

FLETCHER:           Well, I was able to get back some manual control …but the reactor went critical.

JUDGE:                 Were all subjects destroyed?

FLETCHER:           Well, no…they escaped. The Overseer and…

SFX: SLAMMED AGAINST THE WALL.

JUDGE:                 (thunderous anger) HOW THE HELL DID THEY ESCAPE!?

FLETCHER:           It was….some kind of failsafe or something. Or ZAX let them out of the simulation! I have no idea, honest! He captured the Overseer and Vince, which means it’s out of the bag now! They’re going to know we’re moving on Appalachia.

JUDGE:                 She’s a washed up, redundant whackjob and serial killer. They’re not going to listen to her. But you…I left YOU in charge of that facility. Why didn’t you call for support?

FLETCHER:           ZAX lost it and cut off all communication. What exactly was I supposed to do sir? I’m a District Attorney…I’m not even RobCo Certified!

JUDGE:                 Get a detachment down there and…

FLETCHER:           Already being done.

JUDGE:                 Look at you not being completely useless. This…complicates things. (sighs) Step outside. I need a few minutes alone.

FLETCHER:           Fine. Just…fine…

JUDGE:                 And Fletcher?

FLETCHER:           Yes?

JUDGE:                 Remember that here, we fire underperformers…quite literally.

FLETCHER:           Understood.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RECEEDE. DOOR SLAMS.

JUDGE:                 Of all the useless stooges…

SFX: CARD ENTERED. KEYS TYPING.

COMPUTER:       Vault-Tec Security remote access authorization complete. Sat com link initiated…please standby.

SFX: MODEM SOUND.

COMPUTER:       Standby. Link complete. Vault 112 network handshake complete. Activating audio/visual interface. Interference detected…

SFX: STATIC

JUDGE:                 Sir, sir can you hear me? Doctor Braun?

BRAUN:                This had better be good Peter…

JUDGE:                 The Vault 51 Experiment…

BRAUN:                Has reached its unplanned conclusion. Yes, I am aware. You’ll pardon me if I don’t get my news second hand.

JUDGE:                 ZAX asserted full autonomous control, but one of the additional subjects captured was the Overseer from 76.

BRAUN:                I cautioned you to eliminate her when you had the chance. She has been a weak link from the very beginning. I told our colleagues as such at her final interview, when I caught her snooping around. And what did my brilliant coworkers decide? To tell her ALMOST everything. It was a critical mistake then, one that is long overdue for correction.

JUDGE:                 That would’ve raised more questions, made her a martyr and created some unplanned distractions…

BRAUN:                Far greater is the risk that she decides to play her part once more. We’re not done here yet. We don’t yet have enough data regarding transcription errors with each iteration of the original host body. If the aberrations cannot be corrected, the process perfected, all of this was for nothing. I’m not about to let decades of research and planning be derailed by some meddling WOMAN! (pause) You’ve had your fun Peter. Now we do things my way.

JUDGE:                 (angry) That isn’t what was agreed. You told me I’d have full stewardship of this project!

BRAUN:                Your stewardship? Yours? You’ve been fucking around instead of taking pieces off the board. I have problems of my own. Your bumbling resulted in ZAX bypassing network lockouts and safeguards and alerted our silent partners, who have decided to no longer remain so silent. I didn’t need them breathing down our necks Peter. I really don’t. An expeditionary force has been dispatched from Raven Rock to make certain assurances of completion of this little venture.

JUDGE:                 Shit…what is their ETA?

BRAUN:                To the surprise of no one, they declined to answer. I expect they’ll want to assess the status of the experiment and progress for themselves. It’s in your best survivable interest that they leave satisfied with your stewardship of the region during testing.

JUDGE:                 What did you have in mind?

BRAUN:                I am transmitting the details to you now. Command line access to Project Lazarus’ central computer has been transferred to your location, however…

JUDGE:                 We’re going to need a satellite uplink to it.

BRAUN:                That would be an obvious need, yes. Have you recovered the equipment from Sugar Grove?

JUDGE:                 Yes. It was undamaged…no one had even been there in decades.

BRAUN:                Excellent. I’ve outlined this operation in great detail…it must be followed to the letter. The experiment conducted at Vault 92 has born…unexpected fruit, one I’m most interested to replant with some minor adjustments. Hive mind control has untapped potential I find…intriguing. It could make things far simpler for us in the long run with reconstruction. The Enclave have been getting most angsty for actionable results. So let us reset the board and give them exactly what they are expecting, a demonstration that things are well in hand.

JUDGE:                 I’ll take care of it.

BRAUN:                You do that. As you’ll see there, do not delay in taking those pieces off the board. I want them out of the way.

JUDGE:                 (annoyed) Yeah, yeah I can read.

BRAUN:                And Peter…no more fuck ups.

COMPUTER:       Link terminated. Communication lost.

JUDGE:                 (deep sigh) There won’t be. They won’t see this coming.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS TO DESK. INTERCOM.

JUDGE:                 Wilkinson, take us to Condition Red. Activate Strike Force Delta. We’re a go on Janus One. I want a live feed. And popcorn…have the boys send up some popcorn.

COMPUTER:       Alert. Condition Red. Alert. Condition Red. Scramble Strike Force Delta. Operation Janus One is go. Repeat. Janus One is a go. Activating city defenses. All units to remain on high alert. Surveillance Grid: online. The Forest. Confirmed. Ash Heap. Offline. Toxic Valley. Confirmed. Savage Divide. Confirmed. The Mire. Confirmed. Cranberry Bog. Confirmed. Vault-Tec Rises. Repeat. Vault-Tec Rises.

MEDIA: OMINOUS ORCHESTRATION.

SFX: AIR RAID SIRENS. VERTIBIRDS TAKING OFF.

MEDIA: OPENING THEME

SCENE 2: FIVE-O HEADQUARTERS - EXT. NIGHT

SFX: POLICE RADIO CHATTER IN BACKGROUND.

SFX: HAM RADIO CRACKLES.

DISPATCH:          (smacking bubble gum, monotone and uninterested) 5-0 New Responders. What is your emergency?

AMATA:               (frustrated and angry this entire call) Some fucking raiders blew up my diner!

DISPATCH:          Uh huh. What is your name ma’am?

AMATA:               Amata.

DISPATCH:          Is that a first name or last name?

AMATA:               My first name! Hayes!

DISPATCH:          Okay Hayes Amata where are you calling from?

AMATA:               No I’m Amata!

DISPATCH:          What’s the matter?

AMATA:               Not “a matter”. My name is Amata Hayes you emotionless cow.

DISPATCH:          Okay Ma’am I’m going to need you calm down. I’m here to help. Now where are you calling from?

AMATA:               The Red Sloe Diner.

DISPATCH:          Do you require police, fire or medical?

AMATA:               Send them all! These people are fucking crazy!

DISPATCH:          Okay ma’am I’m going to count to three and if you can’t be calm I’ll need to terminate the call. 1…2….3. (pause) Now. What are we ma’am?

AMATA:               (gritting teeth in quiet anger) Calm.

DISPATCH:          That’s right ma’am. Is anyone hurt?

AMATA:               Not yet anyway…

DISPATCH:          Okay Hayes Amata, we’ll send officers out as soon as we can.

AMATA:               Oh shove it up your…

SFX: CLICK.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

KORI:                     Okay everyone grab a seat in the conference and someone get me a coffee…sugar and heavy on the rum. White, did the Firebreathers check in yet?

WHITE:                 Not yet Lieutenant, we had a call about a Strangler Heart outbreak out in the mire. Shouldn’t take too long. But they reported some Judiciary Guard activity out that way. Some kind of construction project going on.

KORI:                     Let’s get some eyes out there to keep an eye on what he’s up to.

WHITE:                 Sure, no problem.

KORI:                     Dispatch let’s see this week’s log.

DISPATCH:          ‘Bout the same as usual. That new raider gang is causing some trouble. Reports of a major nuclear event up around Vault 51. Another call from Mr. Willard about someone peppering his door with paintballs.

KORI:                     Is that….yup that is. Have Cadet Kirk look into it to get his feet wet. Tell him we’re looking for someone who thinks the word penis has two n’s. (pause) What else? That’s the fifth time this week Mad Dog Malone has escaped. What does he even want with that stupid dam anyways?

DISPATCH:          No clue, ma’am. The current office pool is still open, if you want to throw some caps in for the response time.

KORI:                     Who’s responding?

DISPATCH:          Dutch.

KORI:                     (sighs) Alright, put me down for an even six minutes. (pause) Any chatter picked up from Johns?

DISPATCH:           No… sorry, ma’am. I can try sending out another broadcast request to–

KORI:                     No, it’s fine. I have a cadet meeting to run anyways.

SFX: WALKING. DOOR CLOSED.

SFX: CHATTER.

KORI:                     Alright cadets, settle down. We’ve got a lot to cover before heading out on patrol. I’ve changed up the duty rosters a bit to address Ryker’s coffee situation.

RYKER:                  Ma’am, there’s nothing wrong with my coffee.

ROSEWAY:          Um… I checked your filters. They were looking a little… yellow. Like… you know… heavy on the uric acid tint.

RYKER:                  Roseway, that’s from the grounds. I’ll remind you that I was responsible for water recycling and filtration in the Vault. I know what I’m doing.

ROSEWAY:          Ryker, Houston was in the can for over an hour after drinking some.

HOUSTON:          Hey! Don’t bring me into this. That could’ve been the molerat jerky I had earlier.

KORI:                     I’m sure Cadet Ryker’s water filtration is solid. (aside) At least I hope so. I definitely had a cup earlier. Coffee notwithstanding, we do need to chat about Poseidon, and before you say anything, I know it wasn’t your fault, Kensy.

KENSY:                  Ma’am, we had no idea the Judiciary Guard would be there. Houston and I were just responding to a massive power fluctuation in Flatwoods. We traced it to the power plant and figured it was just a Scorched infestation.

HOUSTON:          It also didn’t help that you accidentally set off a series of mines underneath their feet, Kensy.

KENSY:                  Not my fault! I was trying to tell them not to use the front entrance!

KORI:                     According to the Judiciary Guard, you were, and I quote, ‘waving your rifle in the air at them.’

RYKER:                  Kensy, how on Earth did you think that that would be the best way to stop the Judiciary Guard?

KENSY:                  I…I was just trying to stop them.

HOUSTON:          Well, on the bright side, ma’am, I got to practice my Strength Through Diplomacy and De-escalation training.

KORI:                     (chuckles) Yeah, that’s true. Okay, that is part of the reason I wanted to chat with you all before your shift starts. The Judge and his damn Judiciary Guard are crawling all over the remains of Vault 51. I know we’ve got some assets up there but for now, just… just stay away. The whole place is locked down and radio traffic says they're flying in rad scrubbers and excavators. The last thing I need is the Judge seeing a hint of our Responders in his targeted zone. It’d be like pissing in his coffee… no offense Ryker.

RYKER:                  None taken.

ROSEWAY:           Ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking, why is he such an asshole?

KORI:                     Roseway I don’t have the time nor the energy to explain, but it starts with a toilet in the vault.

RYKER:                  Now see, this is one of those campfire tales moments, when the janitor finally snaps over a clogged toilet and goes rogue.

KENSY:                  Oooo! I love those sorts of stories! Can we have s’mores?

HOUSTON:          (laughs) Pretty sure the last thing you need is to be close to a fire. You’d set half of Appalachia on fire.

ROSEWAY:          Yeah, probably a bad look for us.

SFX: ROARING VERTIBIRD SOUND IN DISTANCE

KORI:                     Hang on…

HOUSTON:          What is that?

KENSY:                  Ma’am? Are you okay? What’s–

KORI:                     Wait, Shhh! I hear… something…

RYKER:                  That sounds like…

SFX: MISSILES INCOMING.

KORI:                     Oh my God… INCOMING!

SFX: EXPLOSION. GLASS SHATERRING.

SFX: CHAIRS FALL OVER.

KORI:                     Run! Get out of here! Move it!

PRE:                       (on radio) ….this is Pre… is anyone getting this? Charleston FOB is under attack! I repeat, Charleston FOB is under attack! We need backup! Backup now! It’s the Judiciary Guard! Attention all Responders! They are now a hostile force.

SFX: GUNSHOTS. CHOAS:

HOUSTON:          We’ve got a strike squad coming up on the East Side!

ROSEWAY:          I’ve got problems over here to the South!

KORI:                     We need backup! The Judge…son of a bitch I knew it!

DISPATCH:          10-3 Pre! Morgantown under Code 200 Red. Code 200 Red. Comms compromised.

SFX: GUNSHOT.

WHITE:                 Ah! I’m hit! What the…what is…

SFX: BODY FALLS.

KENSY:                  Tranquilizer darts. Interesting.

RYKER:                  White’s down! We’re cut off. All exits surrounded.

KENSY:                  We need to get to higher ground. Upstairs!

SFX: RUNNING ON STAIRS.

DISPATCH:          I don’t understand. What did we do? Why would they do this?

KORI:                     Because for what comes next. We’re in the way.

KENSY:                  Something’s changed. Was it Zax? Something else?

SFX: GUNSHOTS. SHATTERING GLASS.

HOUSTON:          I’ve got clear line of sight.

KORI:                     Light ‘em up! It’ll take them time to respawn.

SFX: GUNSHOTS.

SFX: RICOCHET.

HOUSTON:          My hat. Son of a bitch! You shot my hat! NO ONE TOUCHES THE HAT!

SFX: GUNSHOTS.

SFX: VERTIBIRD DRAWS CLOSE.

ROSEWAY:          Vertibird closing in…

KORI:                     We’ve got to take that thing down!

DISPATCH:          What is it doing? It’s rotating to the side…

RYKER:                  Is that…?

KENSY:                  It’s a grappling anchor! Get away! Get back!

SFX: MORTAR FIRES. CLAW STRIKES INTO THE BRICKWORK. VERTIBIRD ROARS AS THE WALL IS RIPPED OFF THE BUILDING.

KORI:                     (coughing) Back downstairs! We’re in the open!

SFX: DOOR SMASHED IN BELOW.

KENSY:                  Too late. They’re in.

SFX: CANISTERS TOSSED UP THE STAIRS.

ROSEWAY:          What the hell are those? Those aren’t grenades?

KENSY:                  KORI! Under the desk! NOW!

SFX: FLOATER FREEZER GRENADES DETONATE.

SFX: ICE SHATTERING AND A GUST OF COLD WIND.

KORI:                     (breathing heavy) (quietly) Roseway? (silence) Anyone out there?

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS.

KORI:                     (still breathing heavy) (quietly) Shit…shit…shit…

SFX: SWORD DRAWN.

GUARD #1:          Targets neutralized.

GUARD #5:          Two targets unaccounted for. Spread out.

GUARD #1:          Who the fuck are you?

SFX: SWORD SLASH. HEAD DROPS.

KORI:                     (gasps)

GUARD #5:          HOSTILES! WE’VE GOT HOSTILES!

SFX: GUNSHOTS. SWORD SLASHES. GORE. GUNFIRE SLOWS DIES OFF. YELLING FROM OUTSIDE. SOLDIERS STORM THE BUILDING.

GUARD #6:          SECOND STORY! TAKE THEM OUT!

KORI:                     Oh fuck this…making a run for it….

SFX: SCRAMBLES FROM UNDER DESK. IS GRABBED.

KORI:                     No! Let me go you son of a….Kensy? What are you wearing?

KENSY:                  Shut up and put this on!

KORI:                     A gold napkin?

KENSY:                  It’s a mask! Put it on!

KORI:                     Nice dress…

KENSY:                  Oh…be quiet.

GUARD #6:          Open fire!

KENSY:                  Hang on to me!

SFX: PHANTOM DEVICE GOES OFF. EXPLOSION OF SMOKE.

GUARD #6:          (coughing) Something….head’s spinning…can’t….

KORI:                     What is that? What did you just do?

KENSY:                  Later. We’re out of here.

KORI:                     Where? We’re surrounded!

KENSY:                  A safe house. A sanctum.

SFX: SCRAP KIT OPENED. VORTEX PULLS THEM IN.

MEDIA: MYSTERIOUS TRANSITION MUSIC.

SCENE 3: RADIO STATION – EXT. NIGHT

SFX: COMPUTERS PROCESSING.

MEDIA: SONG ENDS.

NIGHT WOLF:     (Howls) And that was Chance Covington with, “Why’d You Nuke Me Babe?” And now…for NEWS! Joining me with a special community notice is none other than our former Vault Leader, Scorched Plague Defeater, former serial killer and convicted felon…that…probably still has a warrant out for her arrest. Give her a warm Night Wolf welcome for the one and only Overseer. (Howls) She’s got a special announcement for all the alumni of Vault 76. Overseer?

OVERSEER:          Thank you. Good evening. This is the Overseer. We need to talk. Face to face. I've missed all of you, but this isn't just about a reunion. It’s been…some time since Vault 76 opened its door. And we all discovered that Appalachia wasn’t quite what it used to be. We encountered a lot of things. Overcame a lot of things. It’s been a long journey, Appalachia has changed. I don’t know if you’ve been following the rumors, but there’s something in the mountains. People from the outside are coming in, and they’re coming to stay. I don’t think any of us expected for people to actually come back. I need you. All of you. To do your part. We have work to do. I'll be waiting in Sutton.

NIGHT WOLF:     Thank you very much Overseer. One of the things we were talking about before getting started was something we all took for granted in the very beginning: inoculation against the Scorched Plague.

OVERSEER:          That’s correct, with an unknown number of people coming into the region its critical that we scale up vaccine production quickly before there’s a second outbreak likely to…

SFX: POWER CUT. SILENCE.

NIGHT WOLF:     What the fuck?

OVERSEER:          Powers out.

NIGHT WOLF:     Are you kidding me? God damn it! If another one of those fucking Scorched Beasts took out our generator…

SFX: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

VINCE:                  Come on! We’ve got to get out of here.

OVERSEER:          Vince? What’s wrong?

VINCE:                  Powers been cut. I can still hear the fusion reactor running outside.

NIGHT WOLF:     We’re under attack?! Who attacks a radio station?!

VINCE:                  Yeah. Who indeed…

OVERSEER:          He’s not waiting.

VINCE:                  Did you think he would?

OVERSEER:          We’re not ready Vince!

VINCE:                  You should’ve thought about that before kicking the hornet’s nest.

NIGHT WOLF:     Yeah. Hi. Standing here…what the hell are you two talking about?

OVERSEER:          Do you have any scrap kits?

NIGHT WOLF:     No. I’m no pay to win whale! I run, hide or die like God intended.

VINCE:                  Hide it is…got any ideas?

NIGHT WOLF:     The mascots! Prop room! High Priest Solomon does a Saturday morning children’s radio show called Mothy and Pals. Come on!

SFX: DOOR OPENED.

NIGHT WOLF:     In here…take this.

VINCE:                  Uhhhh…can I wear something else?

OVERSEER:          Oh, just put it on Vince.

VINCE:                  This cat suit looks like it’s already spent 5 days in heat in a dark alley.

OVERSEER:          I’m a pink cow. You don’t see me complaining.

VINCE:                  Standing upright, the placement of your udder is profoundly upsetting.

OVERSEER:          You sure do know how to charm a girl.

SFX: DOOR SMASHED AND OPENED.

VINCE:                  Quiet! Stay still.

OVERSEER:          How am I supposed to stand?

NIGHT WOLF:     Casually…you’re supposed to be a hanging outfit.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS.

GUARD #7:          Back here.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

GUARD #7:          Mascot outfits? That’s cute. We can see you. We’re chewing berry mentats.

VINCE:                  Well. Shit.

GUARD #7:          Let’s go. OUT.

NIGHT WOLF:     Look pal, I don’t know who you think you are! But I’m an independent reporter! Freedom of the press! Freedom to assemble!

SFX: SMACK WITH BUTT OF GUN.

GUARD #7:          Howl at someone who wants to hear it. MOVE!

OVERSEER:          Am I to assume we’re under arrest? My warrant never expired, but what do you want with these two?

GUARD #7:          That’s above my paygrade. You’ll find out soon enough.

VINCE:                  Lincoln, isn’t it? Recognize the voice under that helmet. You used to work in hydroponics back in the vault. You and Lisa! That’s it. Pretty thing. Thick as thieves. Never seen kids with bigger green thumbs than you two. Used to tell me you dreamed of opening a farm out here, getting married. Growing, providing…

GUARD #7:          That was years and a lifetime ago.

VINCE:                  What did he promise you? Safety? Security? Or was it just promises of a better future? He’s a liar and a madman kid. Plain and simple.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

GUARD #7:          Better future? BETTER FUTURE? You two had my entire lifetime in that Vault to prepare us for what you KNEW, you KNEW was waiting for us out here. All those resources, supplies…when that door opened YOU could’ve led us, rallied us. To actually give us the slim possibility of succeeding in the mission YOU gave us.

OVERSEER:          He’s lying to you. All of you. You don’t see what’s happening here.

GUARD #7:          No, all of us actually see clearly now. Survival by any means necessary. Sometimes that’s messy, but behind it all is one word: salvation. Vault-Tec rises again to do what no one else can.

VINCE:                  Vault-Tec is a shell company and an empty promise for something far worse.

GUARD #7:          No, I’ll tell you what’s worse. Building us up only to cut us loose. That’s on you.

VINCE:                  What would Lisa say, eh?

GUARD #7:          (furious) Not a damned thing. (silence for a moment and then sadness) She was built to be a farmer, pacifist…most I could get her to wield out here was a rolling pin. Said she couldn’t stomach hurting another living thing. We used to joke about how often she died. Then one day, she was waving to me from the garden, sun in her hair…smile on her face. Then she froze in pain and panic. I watched, watched as slowly, she just unraveled…faded. Sunk through the ground and then, just like that, she was gone.

VINCE:                  I’m sorry.

GUARD #7:          Fuck your sorry and choke on it.

OVERSEER:          You have to listen to me…

GUARD #7:          Lady I’m done listening to you. MOVE!

SFX: WALKING.

NIGHT WOLF:     Think we can take this guy?

VINCE:                  Not a chance.

NIGHT WOLF:     We’ll see about that.

VINCE:                  What’s that?

NIGHT WOLF:     Bought some mutation serums. Stand by. Hey! Larper Fascist! How do you like these apples?!

SFX: DRINKING. SMASHED FLASK.

NIGHT WOLF:     By night I am the Wolf that whispers sweet nothings over the radio waves. Secretly I am Mutations MAN!

OVERSEER:          (sarcasm) Oh brother…

SFX: PULSING, CLOTHES TEARING.

GUARD #7:          What’s that supposed to be then?

NIGHT WOLF:     Let’s see how you like a tase of my TALONS!

VINCE:                  Uhhh…not seeing any talons.

NIGHT WOLF:     Wait…ah shit. Wrong mutation. Hang on…what is…your eyes. Oh you poor man, they hold so much pain.

GUARD #7:          What?

NIGHT WOLF:     It’s okay. I understand why you’re doing this. You walk with a heart not whole. Come, place your head upon my chest, let me lighten the load you’ve been carrying far too long.

VINCE:                  Oh God….an Empath.

NIGHT WOLF:     All of you. I sense so much pain. Sir, I understand you must take us back to your leader so you can feel fulfilled in your mission. But first, let us lay beneath the stars and whisper our dreams and nightmares together. A night of sharing the naked rawness of our souls, then as dawn rises I would very much like to lick the tears from your faces. So gently…so gently my friends…

GUARD #7:          I will literally shoot you in the face fruitcake. OUTSIDE. Move!

SFX: OUTSIDE VERTIBIRD WHIRS. SOLDIERS CHATTER.

GUARD #8:          Strike Force Charlie to base. Asset secured.

SFX: CANISTER DROPS. EXPLODES IN GAS.

BISHOP:               Not so fast you vile usurpers of freedom and wreckers of radio waves!

NIGHT WOLF:     Bishop! My dearest friend, whose pain is so deep he dons the persona of another. I see you my beautiful friend. I see you!

BISHOP:               What?

GUARD #7:          OPEN FIRE!

SFX: GUNFIRE.

NIGHT WOLF:     It’s okay Bishop! My friend and soulmate! I shall take the pain of those bullets from you! (Moans in ecstasy) Oh my God YESSSSSSS. So much delicious pain! Oh God I’m gonna respawn!

VINCE:                  You need to calm the hell down.

BISHOP:               DEATH has come for you evil-doers and I am its shroud!

SFX: TOMMY GUN FIRES.

GUARD #8:          UNDER ATTACK! REPEAT! UNDER ATTACK! (gasps) HIT! I’M DOWN! Strike Force Charlie taking heavy fire! Requesting additional units.

VINCE:                  RUN! Break for it!

NIGHT WOLF:     Alas, I am so weighed down with your delicious pains that I cannot flee. I must be more than I am now.

SFX: DRINKING.

VINCE:                  What are you doing?!

NIGHT WOLF:     Marsupial Mutation. Getting my bounce on. Wheeeee!

SFX: JUMPING NOISES

OVERSEER:          Come on!

GUARD #7:          Oh no you don’t!

SFX: PUNCH. BODY DROPS.

OVERSEER:          Ahhh!

VINCE:                  HEY!

GUARD #7:          You aren’t going anywhere. Another step Vince and she takes a trip to the Atomic Shop. No matter where she respawns, I’ll find her.

OVERSEER:          Go Vince! GO!

VINCE:                  I’m coming back for you.

OVERSEER:          You’d better.

SFX: RUNNING.

BISHOP:               Come on!

NIGHT WOLF:     Where the hell have you been?

BISHOP:               Long story pal. Let’s move!

VINCE:                  Where are we going?

BISHOP:               A friend is arranging for pick up. He’s got a stronghold setup for a rainy day. Dropped me off here so he could respond to a distress call. Looks like the Judge is moving on Appalachia. New Responders have already been taken out.

NIGHT WOLF:     WHAT?!

VINCE:                  Jesus Christ…

BISHOP:               There’s a firefight with the Brotherhood of Steel RCAC at Charleston FOB.

NIGHT WOLF:     RCAC?

VINCE:                  Canadians. Came down from up north, last of the Canadian Armed Forces that hunkered down after annexation and the Great War. Heard Maxson’s message and took up arms and found a new flag to unite under. Formed their own rag tag Brotherhood chapter and headed down here to assist Elizabeth Taggerdy. Once they got here of course she and everyone else was long since dead. They’ve been laying low, assisting the 5-0 New Responders and Firebreathers when needed.

NIGHT WOLF:     Oh they must carry so much delicious pain. Do you think they’d share it with me?

VINCE:                  Can….can you please stop pinching your nipples when you talk like that. (pause) You sure that wasn’t a Kink Mutation?

BISHOP:               They’ve taken heavy casualties. It’s their last stand. We’re hoping we can get them out in time so we can regroup. Judiciary Guard is taking out the power players here. Crippling any chance we have of mounting an offensive down the road.

NIGHT WOLF:     What’s this friend’s name?

BISHOP:               Dolos. But he prefers to be called the Archivist. And fear not…he said he has a plan.

MEDIA: TRANSITION MUSIC

SCENE 4: CHARLESTON FIREBREATHERS STATION – EXT. NIGHT

SFX: GUNFIRE. EXPLOSIONS.

PRE:                       This is Colonel Pre! Charleston FOB is under attack! Requesting evac! Charleston FOB has fallen! Repeat! Charleston FOB has fallen! (pause) Damn it. Where the fuck is everybody?!

IRVINE:                 This is Knight Commander Irvine to all Brotherhood of Steel RCAC units, Operation Phoenix. Repeat: Operation Phoenix. Transfer all command control to Head Knight Marcus. My position is compromised. Charleston FOB under attack. Judiciary Guard is now a hostile force. Dig in deep, go dark. Scramble SatCom relays and switch to encrypted channels. All missions and orders have been rescinded. (pauses) We’ve been through the storm before. Do NOT come for me. We have multiple casualties. Irvine out.

PRE:                       Considering we’re probably going to die out here NOW can I call you Chris?

IRVINE:                 No, Colonel Pre. What kind of name is that anyway? Did your ancestors just give up after 3 letters?

PRE:                       I thought you Brotherhood types were supposed to be polite? This is just bullying honestly.

IRVINE:                 I’m sorry.

PRE:                       Apologizing! So Canadian.

WILKINSON:       (panic) Pinned down! We’re pinned down! I’m out of Stims! Someone give me cereal or a Nuka Cola! Give me something! Oh fuck…oh fuck…

IRVINE:                 Your new recruit over there is going from hard boiled to scrambled.

PRE:                       Wilkinson! Get your god damned head down! What the hell are you doing Firebreather?!

SFX: EATING SOUNDS. DRINKING.

IRVINE:                 He’s now eating your supplies. That’s some great training from a Marine right there.

PRE:                       Shouldn’t you be sucking on a jug of maple syrup? (pause) Wilkinson! Get your shit together!

WILKINSON:       (increasingly manic) Someone pass me a lighter fast! Oh God all I have left is BLAMCO Mac and Cheese! Anyone have any water? I need to cook this shit! I’m bleeding out!

PRE:                       Keep it together or you’ll be dead! I said GET DOWN DAMN IT!

SFX: BOX OPEN. CRUNCHING. SQUIRTING.

PRE:                       Annnnnnd he’s eating raw pasta and cheese powder. God damn it…right…

SFX: CRAWLING IN DIRT. BULLETS RICHOCHET.

WILKINSON:       (raving) ANYONE HAVE ANY DANDY BOY APPLES?!

SFX: PUNCH. BODY DROPS.

PRE:                       I SAID GET THE FUCK DOWN AND GET IT TOGETHER FIREBREATHER!

WILKINSON:       (heavy breathing) S…sorry sir.

PRE:                       This is the real deal! Did you forget your training already? Don’t be sorry, be smart! Wilkinson you are the dumbest son of a bitch I’ve ever met and though you may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, you’re a hell of a sniper. And right now I need you to kill some motherfuckers. Think you can do that for me?

IRVINE:                 Unnecessary swearing! SO American.

WILKINSON:       Y…yes sir.

PRE:                       Good. That’s the kind of Firebreather we need right now. We need to take out that heavy gunner. Now these Judiciary Guard boys are loaded for bear. They may have the gear, but they’re a rag tag group of amateurs. Look at his body language, that chonky Power Armor boy is so focused on straight up spray and pray he’s left himself vulnerable to flanking. Remember what I taught you about flanking?

WILKINSON:       (shaky but finding confidence) Fear or overconfidence creates tunnel vision in battle. Your enemy is locked in a tunnel and can only see straight ahead, it’s an amateur move.

PRE:                       That’s right. The warrior is constantly looking around, sees the whole field, knows where the bullets are coming from and where threats can creep up from. Moreover, all kitted up in his flashy power armor that dude is a walking tank and just like tanks you stay away from their front and they’re vulnerable from the back and sides. Remember that move that Lt. Colonel Graham showed you?

WILKINSON:       Yes sir.

PRE:                       Good. Take that fucker out.

WILKINSON:       (determined) YES. SIR.

SFX: SCRAMBLING IN DIRT.

IRVINE:                 That was some real hoooo raaaaaa semper fi stuff right there. Real inspiring.

PRE:                       Damned straight. Now explain to me what the hell poutine is again?

SFX: STATIC ECHOES AS MEGAPHONE IS ACTIVATED.

GUNNER:            Attention all surviving members of the unauthorized civil defense force known as the Firebreathers. Per order of the Judge, this region is now under the control of the Vault-Tec Corporation. You’ve been ordered to lay down arms, and report to Watoga to join the Judiciary Guard Peacekeeping Forces.

PRE:                       (chuckles can yells out) Hell of a start to peacekeeping there Big Guy! Vault-Tec huh? Vault-Tec is dead and gone!

GUNNER:            We assure you it is not. Listen! All of you! For over 25 years, it was Vault-Tec that kept you fed, safe and warm. It was under their seal that you grew, thrived and survived while everything else out here descended into disorder, madness and chaos. When that door opened, we were given a mission. And how, just how have you fared? Nuclear weaponry use is rampant. The New Responders have failed in their endeavor to reign in lawlessness. The fighting MUST stop. The fallout MUST settle. We MUST rebuild. Not just walls, not just buildings, but hearts and minds. And ultimately America itself. Vault-Tec prepared for the end, but they also planned for AFTER the end. Join with us! As many have! They are the best equipped to lead us forward.

IRVINE:                 I’m down to my last clip and one grenade. How do you want to do this?

PRE:                       (sighs) I don’t know how many broken bones, or stab wounds, or gunshot wounds I’ve got left in me, but I’ll be damned if I go out duck and covering. (yells out) What about the Scorched, huh? You folks ready for another full blown plague on your hand from all these newcomers who aren’t vaccinated showing up?

GUNNER:            That is no longer your concern.

PRE:                       (chuckles and mutters) The hell it isn’t. It’s what the Fire Breathers were made for and died for.

GUNNER:            What say you?

WILKINSON:       (vo) Sir. I’m in position. I have a clear shot right at his fusion core.

PRE:                       Hold for my order. All units make ready. We’re gonna light em’ up.

GUNNER:            I said what say you?! Last chance!

PRE:                       (calling out) What say I?

SFX: GATLING LOADED.

PRE:                       I say. FUCK VAULT-TEC! HIT ‘EM!

SFX: RIFLE FIRES. FUSION CORE HIT.

GUNNER:            Son of…oh shit!

SFX: SUIT ALARM BLARES.

GUNNER:            Get it out! Someone eject my core! FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK!

SFX: EXPLOSION.

PRE:                       FIREBREATHERS OPEN FIRE!

IRVINE:                 FOR THE BROTHERHOOD! FOR APPALACHIA!

SFX: EXPLOSIONS AND GUNSHOTS.

PRE:                       (chanting Firefighters prayer as they move forward) When I am called to duty God, wherever flames may rage, give me strength to save a life, whatever be its age.

IRVINE:                 They’re flanking! Cut them off!

PRE:                       Help me to embrace a little child before it's too late, or save an older person from the horror of that fate.

FIREBREATHER: Ah fuck! I’m hit! I’m hit.

IRVINE:                 Hold the line! Don’t let them get around us!

PRE:                       Enable me to be alert to hear the weakest shout, and quickly and efficiently to put the fire out.

FIREBREATHER: There’s too many! Something’s…something’s in here with me. I think there’s a….(gasps and chokes on blood as he’s gutted by a stealth Assaultron).

IRVINE:                 Shit! They’ve got an Assaultron! All units! Be aware that they have a stealthed Assaultron in play! Look for distortions in the landscape! Take it out!

PRE:                       I want to fill my calling and to give the best in me, to guard my neighbor and protect his property.

SFX: GUNSHOT TEARS INTO HIM. HE COLLAPSES TO THE GROUND.

PRE:                       (gasps, grits teeth and keeps firing) And if according to your will I have to lose my life, bless with your protecting hand my loving family from strife.

SFX: CLICKING SOUND OUT OF AMMO.

WILKINSON:       I’m down! Colonel! Colonel what do we do?!

PRE:                       (gasping for air as lung collapses)

SFX: ASSAULTRON FOOTSTEPS APPROACH. IT POWERS UP ITS BEAM.

PRE:                       Well…shit. Man out of time finally runs out. (laughs, choking on blood) Come on. Let’s get this over with.

SFX: ASSAULTRON BEAM REACHED MAX POWER.

SFX: VERTIBIRD RAPIDLY APPROACHES AND OPENS FIRE. EMP CANISTER IS DROPPED AND DETONATES. ASSAULTRON COLLAPSES AND EXPLODES.

SFX: VERTIBIRD DOOR OPENS.

JOHNS:                 Hang on Pre! Baldrick take the winch. Dolos hold it steady!

BALDRICK:           Right you are sir!

SFX: SLIDES DOWN WINCH CABLE. BOOTS HIT DIRT.

PRE:                       Oh sure NOW you show up.

JOHNS:                 Hang on…got you.

SFX: STIMPAK INJECTED.

JOHNS:                 Just lay there a second. Gonna take a bit for it to heal you up.

IRVINE:                 Well, well, well. Commander Johns. Nice of you to emerge from the shadows.

JOHNS:                 Knight Commander. Been a bit busy.

IRVINE:                 We heard about that mess up at Vault 51. Had our hands full under the Whitespring otherwise we would’ve leant a hand.

JOHNS:                 UNDER the Whitespring?

IRVINE:                 Yeah…found something down there we can’t even identify.

JOHNS:                 Fill me in later. We’ve got to evac before reinforcements arrive. We’ve got a Vertibird in the air inbound from Watoga.

PRE:                       He’s really going for it?

JOHNS:                 Yeah. Should’ve seen this coming.

SFX: VERTIBIRDS APPROACHING.

JOHNS:                 Shit! LET’S GO! (in radio) Dolos we’re ready! Enemy forces neutralized on the ground. Clear to land. Let’s get the hell out of here.

SFX: ROCKET FIRED.

IRVINE:                 MISSILE! INBOUND!

SFX: EXPLOSION. VERTIBIRD SPIRALS OUT OF CONTROL.

JOHNS:                 DOLOS!

SFX: VERTIBIRD CRASHES AND EXPLODES.

JOHNS:                 (furious and upset) YOU SON OF A BITCH!

PRE:                       Ah shit…

SFX: RADIO

PRE:                       Colonel Pre at Charleston FOB. We’ve got multiple casualties requesting any and all remaining personnel with field medic experience to report immediately. Multiple gunshot wounds. Fire suppressor protectrons requested! We’ve got a downed Vertibird! Scrap kit travel authorized.

SFX: METAL TEARING. CIRCUITS BLOW.

IRVINE:                 She’s swinging around! Shit. Any of these Judiciary Guard boys have any ammo laying around? What are you doing Johns?

JOHNS:                 Payback. Irvine how much juice do you have left in Power Armor Frame?

IRVINE:                 About 27%. Why?

JOHNS:                 Get out of that thing and give it to me.

SFX: POWER ARMOR FRAME OPENS. CORE EJECTED.

IRVINE:                 Here you go…what are you thinking?

JOHNS:                 Learned a thing or two from Chad in terms of Jerry-rigging weaponry. This Assaultron head normally runs on Fusion Cells….

SFX: MACHINE GUN FIRE.

PRE:                       Here she comes!

JOHNS:                 But with a little hotwiring…

SFX: ENERGY CRACKLES. ASSAULTRON WEAPON OVERLEADS.

JOHNS:                 GET BACK!

SFX: VERTIBIRD COMES IN FOR THE KILL. MACHINE GUNS RIDDLING THE PAVEMENT TOWARD STHEM.

JOHNS:                 GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE JUDGE!

SFX: ASSAULTRON WEAPON EXPLODES WITH ENERGY. VERTIBIRD EXPLODES. BODY FALLS.

IRVINE:                 Jesus! Johns your hands…

JOHNS:                 (hissing through pain) I’m alright…

PRE:                       Alright?! Your hands are a well done hamburger. Once medics arrive, we need to clear out before they send out another unit. But the question is…where to?

JOHNS:                 Come on! We need to get that fire out! See if any of these Guards have any Stimpaks on them. (pause) Please be okay…

MEDIA: TRANSITION

SCENE 5: FREE RADICAL BASE - EXT. NIGHT

SFX: FOOTSTEPS ON GRAVEL.

RAZORHANDLE: So what are you gonna tell Roper? He’s gonna be pissed we’ve been gone this long.

BROOKS:              Party went a little late, we got a little lit and passed out for a few. No big deal.

SFX: SHELL CASING KICK

RAZORHANDLE: What’s that?

BROOKS:              Shell casing…looks like we missed the party.

RADICAL #2:       (yelling from the catwalk) Hold it!

BROOKS:              Fuck off Lewis, it’s me.

RADICAL #2:       I told you not to call me that anymore. My name is Catalytic Awesome.

BROOKS:              (under his breath) Catalytic Asshole.

SFX: BUTTON PUSHED.

BROOKS:              Hey! Open the gate. It’s me!

SFX: INTERCOM STATIC

RADICAL #1:       Yeah?

BROOKS:              It’s Brooks! Open the fucking gate.

RADICAL #1:       What’s the password?

BROOKS:              Are you shitting me?

RADICAL #1:       That’s not it. Get lost.

BROOKS:              Open the fucking gate before I turn your skin into a 3-point safety belt.

RADICAL #1:       (chuckles) I wouldn’t count on it.

SFX: GATE OPENS.

RAZORHANDLE: What the hell happened in here?

SFX: CIGARETTE LIT.

ROPER:                 (Ominous) Boys…welcome home.

BROOKS:              Boss. (pause) More Supermutants show up?

ROPER:                 We had some guests, had some casualties while you boys were out doing…? (Pauses) What exactly?

BROOKS:              Party went a little later than we’d thought. Boys and I turned a “night cap and some poker” into a “lights out sleepin’ in the bushes”. That Supermutant makes something that hits like jet pack fuel.

ROPER:                 I’ll bet.

RAZORHANDLE: Dogbreath make it back yet?

ROPER:                 Yeah. You find anything out about those people from Vault 76?

BROOKS:              Chad let some things slip while we were playing poker. Seems like they were experimented on, injected with something, programmed with something…hell I don’t know how it works, but you can just off one of them and they pop back up again right as rain.

ROPER:                 Dogbreath filled me in on that bit already.

BROOKS:              (annoyed) So why’d you ask me?

SFX: PUNCH

BROOKS:              Ah! What the fuck boss?

ROPER:                 (quiet but furious) If there is one thing that burns my ass it’s when someone yanks my chain. What did I say about the diner? (pointedly) WHAT did I say? We get a foothold here and before we’ve even dug in after drifting in on fumes, you decide to take action against a very well-known local watering hole…one people are gonna miss. Attention makes everything we do from here on out HARDER.

BROOKS:              What the fuck does it matter?! We needed territory. Whether you blow shit up next week or today the end result is the same. That diner dame offed one of our own, so I paid it back in kind.

ROPER:                 You paid it back. YOU. I didn’t ask YOU to do anything.

RAZORHANDLE: Brooks…come on man.

BROOKS:              If I wanted words coming out of that fat mouth of yours Razorhandle I’d ask for it. Clean yourself up. You’re on guard duty for the next 24 hours. (louder) And if any of you so much as gives this dippy drummer here a drink of water or something to eat you’ll pull double his duty.

RAZORHANDLE: Yes boss.

SFX: FEET ON STAIRS. MICROPHONE SWITCHED ON. FEEDBACK.

ROPER:                 LISTEN UP FREE RADICALS! We only work when there’s order. It’s no different here than it was back in the pen. Brooks here needs a reminder. Boys!

SFX: SCUFFLING.

BROOKS:              Get off me! I’ll remember this! Every single one of you.

ROPER:                 Hoist him up in the gibbet where I can see him.

BROOKS:              Let me go! Lay off me!

ROPER:                 WE are a family. WE survive where others fail. WE are strong, while others are weak. Working together for the common good (laughs).

SFX: LAUGHS.

ROPER:                 OUR common good. When I hauled your asses out of the Western Maryland pen, we all agreed on 3 rules…just 3. The most important one, the one above all, is the one unspoken. Respect.

SFX: METAL CAGED CLANGS SHUT. CHAIN HOISTED.

ROPER:                 What do you think boys? Like our new chandelier? Ain’t he pretty. (laughs)

SFX: LAUGHS.

BROOKS:              Ow! Stop poking me! Son of a bitch…when I get out of this thing…

ROPER:                 Now let’s clean the yard, and get some more turrets up!

SFX: CHATTER AS CROWD BREAKS UP. FOOTSTEPS ON WOOD.

BROOKS:              (seething anger) You’d better watch your back BOSS.

ROPER:                 I always do kiddo. Hang out for a bit will ya? (chuckle)

SFX: STEPS.

BROOKS:              Why?

ROPER:                 Why what?

BROOKS:              You could just kill me. If I were you I would’ve done that months ago.

ROPER:                 Back in Maryland my neighbor had a dog. Mean son of a bitch…every day I’d walk home from guarding your stupid asses and there he’d be, frothing and snarling, smashing and clawing at the chain-link, just like all of you used to do. Go out for the paper? (dramatically bark like an angry dog here) Bring a broad home? (dramatically bark again). One day, neighbor comes over…real numbnuts and asks me to watch the dog for a week while he takes his secretary on a little trip up to the Catskills. (Intense, louder than whisper, right into Brooks face) 3 days. It took me just 3 days and some ultrasonics I cooked up to teach ol’ Brutus to bark when I tell him to and to shut his fucking mouth and know his place the rest of the time. (pause) Killing someone is the easiest thing in the world. That’s something you’d do. You’re not me. You’ll never be me, and that right there my friend is the coffin you’ll bury yourself in. (pauses) I’m going to break you Brooks.

SFX: STEPS.

ROPER:                 Heel. Good boy…that’s a good boy. (chuckles)

SFX: FOOTSTEPS.

RADICAL #2:       We’re hooking up another generator. One of the guys had this idea for a molerat treadmill kind of rig…thinks it’ll be hilarious to generate power and get a show.

ROPER:                 Works for me. Hey you’ve been playing the drums right Catalytic?

RADICAL #2:       Yeah! Been practicing at night. Was hoping Dogbreath could use me from time to time. Razorhandle is…

ROPER:                 …is?

RADICAL #2:       Nothing Boss.

ROPER:                 You gonna waste my time or are you gonna spill it.

RADICAL #2:       He’s sloppy as hell. All over the place. Know you’ve always liked his drumming and all…just figured I could maybe prove myself. Earn a place with the band.

ROPER:                 Yeah. Tough break. Them boys are pretty tight. (pause) As long as Razorhandle’s around you don’t have a chance in hell. Tough break kiddo. Tough break. Big deal for you…big deal. Can you imagine? Dogbreath…the man who played with Jesse White. (pause) Razorhandle’s pulling guard duty tonight down by the river. Why don’t you join him?

RADICAL #2:       Yeah. (thinks about it…murderous intent) Yeah…sure boss.

ROPER:                 Mind the edge back there. Railroad bridge is out…don’t think Razorhandle can swim. (chuckles)

SFX: FOOTSTEPS

ROPER:                 You four, gear up. We’re heading down to Watoga. This Judge fella knocked on our door. Only fair that we go knock on his. Those cranes working yet?

RADICAL #1:       Yeah boss. Crank drained the oil and flushed them out. They work fine, just were sitting too long.

ROPER:                 Good. Hook them up to the trailers. We’ve got a pitstop on the way to Watoga.

MEDIA: TRANSITION

SCENE 6: RUSTY PICK - INT. DAY

SFX: DISTANT NOISE OF EQUIPMENT RUMBLING.

CHAD:                   (snoring) (mumbling in sleep) Don’t worry ladies there’s enough inches to go around. You’re the best Santa. Now beat it…the Chad is gonna shave Christmas.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS RUNNING.

SUSIE:                   CHAD! CHAD! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

SFX: JUMP ON BED.

CHAD:                   (waking up suddenly) Ah! Jesus kid…my stomach.

SUSIE:                   RISE AND SHINEEEEEEEE! REEEEEEEEE!

CHAD:                   Go on and let me sleep…first it was the all-night party, followed by some crazy Vault VR shit with a bullshit computer. I haven’t slept in like 2 days. Let’s have an adventure next week.

SUSIE:                   But you’ve been sleeping ALL DAY!

CHAD:                   (hung over) If you could take it down a notch curtain climber that’d be great…my head’s pounding harder than prom night.

SUSIE:                   Wake up and come see!

CHAD:                   There’s some matches in the drawer there, why don’t you and Bear go play 3-alarm at the fire station down the hill.

SUSIE:                   (annoyed) There’s some SILLY MEN from the party and they brought choo choo trains!

CHAD:                   (panic) Trains? What the hell are you talking about?

SFX: MASSIVE THUMP ON ROOF. WOOD GROANS AND CEILING DUST SIFTS DOWN.

CHAD:                   (coughing) What the fuck now…

SUSIE:                   Come on! Wake up and come see sleepyhead!

SFX: BED CREAKS. PANTS PUT ON AND ZIPPED.

CHAD:                   I swear to Christ dude it’s every fucking day in this place…

SFX: SCREEN DOOR OPENS. CONSTRUCTION NOISES.

ROPER:                 (calling up) Good! Just make sure she’s secure up there and then get some support beams setup inside for reinforcement. Don’t want this thing coming through their ceiling.

RADICAL #1:       Yeah boss!

PUNCH:                You make loud noise! TOO LOUD FOR PUNCH!

CHAD:                   Roper? What the fuck’s going on?

ROPER:                 Afternoon! Jesus you look like you slept on the floor.

CHAD:                   What is all this?

ROPER:                 Consider it an apology for any trouble caused by my boys and me being a little (pause) less than courteous in the vault.

CHAD:                   Trolley cars?

ROPER:                 Yeah, used to ride a trolley into work back in Maryland. We ran into them at some raider compound run by a gang out of the Pitt. Was in the mood for a shelter with nostalgia, so we hauled them out and brought them along. Once we got setup in the lumber mill these things have just been hanging around. Figured since this place is so busy you could make a mint keeping some of the plebs here after they drink themselves stupid and need a place to crash.

CHAD:                   Jesus man…that is…a great idea.

ROPER:                 I figured. I call her the Pittsburgh Palace. Adds a few stories on to the Rusty Pick here.

CHAD:                   So, how much?

ROPER:                 (chuckles) Free and clear. It’s a fair cut for one of the few outsiders we’ve gotten to know. You gave my boys a job, place to hang and burn off some vices. Consider it an investment into a friendship.

CHAD:                   Uh huh. This is still about the treasure isn’t it?

ROPER:                 Look, we’ve got feelers out everywhere. If you happen to hear something and want to tell me that’s your business. If you don’t, that’s your business. What I do know is that there aren’t a lot of people around here who can do the grunt work when it comes to hauling anything out of the ground.

CHAD:                   I’ll keep that in mind dude. Hey, you boys want some lunch, dinner or something? Punch can whip something up. We got loads of leftovers still from the party. Mama Murmurgles misunderstood me and somehow scrounged up 3 pallets of Cram and if I eat any more of that shit I’m gunna Snallyghaster out my backdoor.

ROPER:                 Tempting, but I’d rather eat dog food.

CHAD:                   You brought in a single wide too?

ROPER:                 Yup. Live in it, rent it…whatever.

CHAD:                   Damn dude! This one’s great. Think I’m gonna move on out here. Might actually be able to sleep for once…or entertain if you get me.

ROPER:                 (chuckles) Yeah. The Chad Pad?

CHAD:                   The Chad Pad.

ROPER:                 Two of the boys will finish up and head on back home. I’ll be seeing yah. HEY! You two. Time to go.

CHAD:                   You boys loaded up for battle. Somethin’ cookin’?

ROPER:                 You could say that. Have a good one.

CHAD:                   Yeah you too.

SFX: WALKING. SCREEN DOOR OPENS. SLAMS. DINNER SIZZLING. RADIO PLAYING QUIETLY.

CHAD:                   Hey gang. Punch dude we got any coffee left?

PUNCH:                Punch have some! Pour cup!

CHAD:                   Uhhh…this coffee bro is more solid than liquid. Why….why is it moving?

PUNCH:                (singing deep Oh Shenandoah https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8CZBBJfLak) Ohhhhhh SHUTDAHDOOOR!, Punch long to eat you!!!!!

SFX: BUTCHER BLOCK WHACK. MOLERAT SQUEEL.

PUNCH:                Way, you molerat mudder! Ohhhhh SHUTDAHDOOOR, Punch cook you in stew!

Way, Punch chop awayyyyyyy!

BEAR:                    I don’t think those are the lyrics.

SUSIE:                   That’s right Mr. Honeypot Bear! It’s like….

(singing) Ohhhhh Shenandoooooahhhhhh

BEAR:                    No, no. It’s supposed to be deeper. Like this…

                                (singing really deep) Ohhhhh Shenandoahhhhhhhhhh

SUSIE:                   I don’t think I can sing that low Mr. Honeypot Bear. Oh! I know! I know! Gimme that Nuka Cola Dark.

BEAR:                    You shouldn’t be drinking that! It’s 35% alcohol by volume. You’re not old enough. Is your Dad okay with this?

CHAD:                   We have a zoo of people out back dude. I pick my battles.

SFX: BOTTLECAP POPPED.

SUSIE:                   I’m in my 40’s. Oh and Mr. Honeypot Bear?

BEAR:                    Yes?

SUSIE:                   (demonic) DON’T EVER TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

BEAR:                    Okie dokie then.

SFX: CHUGGING

SUSIE:                   Okay now you sing the Ohhhhhh part and Mr. Punch and I will sing the Shenandoahhhhh part. Ready Mr. Punch?

PUNCH:                Punch ready!

SUSIE:                   Okay go!

BEAR:                    (singing) Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PUNCH:                (singing) SHANENDOOOOORRRRR

SUSIE:                   SHENAN (voice dips to deep as a huge, long and extended base belch rings out DOAHHHHH

PUNCH:                (singing deep) DOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SFX: LOW BASE RUMBLE KNOCK PICTURES OFF WALL.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

MOOSE:               EARTHQUAKE MAN! OR SOME OTHER SHIT!

SUSIE:                   (burp fades as she giggles) Excuse me.

BEAR:                    That was disgusting.

PUNCH:                Punch like song.

CHAD:                   I’m definitely moving outside.

MOOSE:               Come on man…I’m exhausted.

PUNCH:                Moose have dinner. Punch make soup and sammy witch.

CHAD:                   There he is. You sleepin’ it off too man?

MOOSE:               Yup before the next bullshit thing that happens.

CHAD:                   Hey so Roper and his boys hauled some old streetcars over here and lifted them unto the roof. Figured we could expand this place into like…a tavern and inn. Like a bed and breakfast kind of thing. Charge em a flat rate and Punch can serve up some breakfast or something…maybe start beer o’clock early in the bar so they stick around and gamble some more (chuckles).

MOOSE:               Awww! Dude! That’s an awesome idea! We keep this place hopping like that we could have like…a casino and stuff. What should we call it?

CHAD:                   What?

MOOSE:               The upstairs thing. We need like…catchy title…something people will be all like, “oh that’s lovely! Here, take my caps so I can earn the privilege to sleep on your lumpy mattress.”

CHAD:                   Huh.

SUSIE:                   Susie’s Dolly Motel?

BEAR:                    Honeypot Bear’s Sticky Inn?

CHAD:                   Both of those sound like places you’d film a PipBoy porno.

PUNCH:                Uhhhh….up in Air?

CHAD:                   Not quite what we’re looking for bro.

PUNCH:                No…place up in the Air. Serve Meat and Bed.

CHAD:                   Air….M and B?

MOOSE:               Air M&B! We could like offer a barbecue brunch and beer thing with their stay!

SUSIE:                   (sulking) No one liked MY idea…I wanted a dolly house!

CHAD:                   Well hey I’ll tell you what kid. You remember that tree house you used to have over by Alpine Cabins? Before we met?

SUSIE:                   Yeah?

CHAD:                   Why don’t we build one? You and me.

SUSIE:                   You mean it?!

CHAD:                   Yeah!

SUSIE:                   A TREE HOUSE! SUSIE’S TREE HOUSE!

CHAD:                   Tell you what, I need to shower and shave. After dinner here, why don’t you, Punch and Mama Murmurgles take the tunnels over to that junkyard near Charleston. Find some stuff to decorate with. Whatever you want…wallpaper, pictures, whole nine yards. Moose and I need to saw up some lumber anyway. That upstairs streetcar palace needs some stairs and catwalks.

SUSIE:                   This’ll be fun! Won’t it Mr. Honeypot Bear?

BEAR:                    Dollars to donuts it’ll be dungeon chic.

SFX: DOOR OPENS AND SLAMS

JAKE:                     I can’t believe I’m saying this, but is this place open?

MOOSE:               No….way.

CHAD:                   Well fuck me sideways and pay me for it… Jake. Been a while dude. How’s business over at the Rad Hoe?

JAKE:                     (annoyed) The Red Sloe. Was The Red Sloe. Past tense. Some raiders torched it.

MOOSE:               (laughs) That’s awesome.

CHAD:                   Moose. Come on man. Geez, no kiddin? (pauses) That sucks. You uhhhh…you want something to eat?

JAKE:                     All our savings was inside…I mean I don’t have…

CHAD:                   No, no bro…it’s cool. I think I still have your pants and shirt in my bottom drawer from that time I left you nude down by the river. (chuckles) This one’s on me. Punch dude, another soup and sammy!

PUNCH:                SOUP AND SAMMY! COMIN’ UP!

JAKE:                     Thanks. How uhh…how’s business here? You’ve really built this place out.

CHAD:                   Yeah! Going really well man. You and Amata should’ve come on over for the opening.

JAKE:                     Nah…she and I are through.

CHAD:                   Really? Damn…you two were tight since the Vault. What happened bro?

JAKE:                     People…change. Intentionally, unintentionally…sometimes you find yourself walking the road in different directions. Pair that with never-ending action, trauma and horror and this place isn’t exactly conducive to long-term relationships.

CHAD:                   Yeah, that’s true enough. You should’ve come over at least! Let loose…have some fun. Rock that single and ready to mingle ghoul vibe. Opening was a blast….and then it was interrupted by a blast…and then some god damned flying robots. (pause) You know come to think of it the past few days feels like months.

JAKE:                     Ain’t that the truth.

SUSIE:                   Hello.

JAKE:                     Hey kid…uhhh…Susie, isn’t it?

SUSIE:                   Uh huh. And this is Mr. Honeypot Bear.

BEAR:                    I have an unnatural fixation with honey and innuendo. (pause) HA-HYUK!

SUSIE:                   You’re just like me!

JAKE:                     Pardon?

SUSIE:                   A ghoul silly!

JAKE:                     Yup. (pause)

MOOSE:               So, what are you gonna do bro? Just head off on your own someplace?

JAKE:                     No idea…I just started walking without even thinking. Go lost in my head looking down at the broken surface of the road…counting the cracks, just picking everything apart that went wrong. I looked up and I was in front of this place.

CHAD:                   Yeah.

JAKE:                     Yeah.

SFX: AWKWARD SILENCE. EATING. SOUP SPOONS IN BOWLS.

CHAD:                   You need a place to crash for a bit?

JAKE:                     Look I told you I don’t have any…

CHAD:                   No, no bro I know. Look we could use a hand with some building projects, finish up the upstairs here…want to build out a garage and brewery to give us some breathing room. You help us out with that stuff, and you can crash here as long as you need to.

MOOSE:               I’m sorry what?

CHAD:                   I’ll even throw in some caps for yah to get you started.

MOOSE:               Dude what the fuck?

CHAD:                   What?

MOOSE:               This dweeb and that nerdy chic we’ve been bustin’ on since the Vault.

CHAD:                   Yeah and?

MOOSE:               They are LOSERS. Why in the hell would you want him to live here?

JAKE:                     I’m literally sitting right here.

CHAD:                   Because we know him more than we know any other shitheel walking around out here now. You want to go to sleep or trust the kid or Punch with some other walkjob from a lower level or rando raider who would think nothing of slicing a throat or robbing us blind?

MOOSE:               That’s not even the point dude.

CHAD:                   What is the point?

MOOSE:               He. Is. NOT. One. Of. Us. He’s a…

SUSIE:                   (sadly and hurt) …he’s like me.

MOOSE:               (awkward, stricken he was about to say he’s just a ghoul) …that’s….no damn you’re not the same as…. I mean you’re different kid….I didn’t mean…

CHAD:                   Yeah bro. I think you did.

MOOSE:               (exasperated) Fine. Whatever. It’s not like anyone listens to me anyway. Patsy…you…

SFX: DOOR SLAMS. AWKWARD SILENCE.

PUNCH:                (singing) OH SHENANDOORRRRRRRRRRRR!

CHAD:                   Not now dude…. read the room.

PUNCH:                Duhhh…okay. (reading posters) Dis one say General Atomics…the power to deliver justice is in your hands. Uhhhh…dis one say Your New Home! Shelters! YAYYYY! It’s the Home of the Future. Visit the Shelters Claim Center Today.

SFX: WALKS AWAY STILL READING.

JAKE:                     Didn’t mean to cause any trouble. Appreciate the offer, but if staying here causes any waves…

CHAD:                   Nah dude. Let him blow off some steam. We’ve all been a bit strung out lately. Things haven’t been the same since last Halloween. (pause) Huh.

JAKE:                     Huh what?

CHAD:                   Think Bishop and that Night Wolf dude ran out of tapes; same song keeps repeating.

MEDIA: TRANSITION SONG.

SCENE 7: CITY OF WATOGA - EXT. DAY

SFX: CLOMPING OF HOOVES. BRAHMIN TEAM MOOING.

TOYMAKER:        (clucking tongue)

(singing Polish folk song Hej, sokoty)

                                Hey, somewhere by the Black Sea coast

                                A young cossack mounts his horse

                                He fondly says goodbye to his girlfriend

                                And even more fondly, to Poland.

                                Hey, hey, hey falcons!

                                Fly past the mountains, forests, valleys

                                Ring, ring, ring little bell

                                My little steppe skylark

SFX: ALARM BELL SOUNDS. TURRETS ACTIVATE.

GUARD #1:          HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!

TOYMAKER:        Toys! Toys for sale or trade. Oh, it’s so hot out here.

SFX: COW PLOP. COW MOOS.

TOYMAKER:        That’s a good girl Maryla.

GUARD #2:          The City of Watoga is in lockdown per order of Vault-Tec.

GUARD #1:          Pick that shit up! NOW CIVVIE!

TOYMAKER:        Hold your horses, Josef just getting shovel.

SFX: CLAMBER OF METAL. STEPS DOWN TO ROAD.

                                (Continues singing while working) There are many girls in the world,

                                But most of them are in Poland…

SFX: SHOVELING.

TOYMAKER:        That’s a big one. Save for later. Make corn for growing.

GUARD #1:          Move that heap on out of here! Now!

GUARD #2:          What’s your name sir? We’re gonna need to see some papers.

TOYMAKER:        Josef. Josef Zelenovic. Papers? Josef doesn’t make papers. He makes toys. You want to buy or trade? I make big ones, small ones, ones that go ding or bonk. Sometimes they go TSHHHHHH. If it do that, you bring back to Josef. That means it broke.

GUARD #1:          Toys? Does it look like we need toys? There’s no kids in here. No get your mutated cows and that shabby ass wagon out of here before these turrets turn you to ash.

GUARD #2:          Oh, come on Dave…you know I got a little one at home.

GUARD #1:          God damn it Perkins…

TOYMAKER:        You like toys for your little one? Misterrrrr…?

GUARD #2:          Mrs. Perkins.

TOYMAKER:        Ohhhh…you girl. Hard to tell under metal suit. You have man? He make you good with the sexy time?

GUARD #2:          Yes!

GUARD #1:          YES, she DOES thank you. She’s seeing me.

TOYMAKER:        Ohhhhh very nice. You knock the boots huh? He make you happy? Is big or small like little mushroom?

GUARD #2:          I can answer for myself thanks Dave. If I wanted you to White Knight for me, I’d ask for it, thanks.

GUARD #1:          I don’t like the way he’s looking at you is all.

GUARD #2:          We agreed to keep things professional while on duty.

TOYMAKER:        …too bad. Josef could show you good time. Have can opener in back. You maybe pretty or hind end of cow, either way, Josef don’t care.

GUARD #2:          Okay…you’re a pig.

GUARD #1:          I told you…

TOYMAKER:        Look here…Josef show.

SFX: CART DOOR OPENED. CRATE FLIPPED OPEN.

TOYMAKER:        What kind of toy your little one like? Oh! Here! Here! New favorite. Went over big in City of Atlantic.

GUARD #2:          That’s a chainsaw….but what did you do to it?

TOYMAKER:        Very funny. Work good! Josef put boxing glove on it. You have trouble with…how you say…hamburger glowing man, you start this baby up and punch in balls. Josef show….

SFX: CHAINSAW STARTS. ODD PUNCHING NOISES.

TOYMAKER:        Come! Josef show… (laughs)

GUARD 1:            Hey! You have the count of three to get the fuck out of here you weirdo! One!

SFX: CHAINSAW STOPS.

TOYMAKER:        Okay, okay. American ask to see toys. American doesn’t want to see toys.

SFX: CRATE CLOSED. CLIMBS ON CART.

TOYMAKER:        You have gay day. (clicking noise) Giddup there Maryla!

SFX: CART RATTLES AWAY.

GUARD #2:          Did he just tell us to have a gay day?

SFX: VERTIBIRD APPROACHES.

GUARD #2:          One of ours?

GUARD #1:          Pass me those binoculars.

GUARD #2:          Here.

GUARD #1:          No…this bird is spit shined and glistening like new. Symbol on the side I don’t recognize. Call it in.

GUARD #2:          Tower Air Command this is Watch Station #5. We have an unidentified Vertibird inbound.

SFX: RADIO STATIC.

FLETCHER:           Station 5, Fletcher here. They’re authorized to land on platform 2. Fletcher out.

SFX: RADIO DISCONNECTS.

GUARD #2:          What do you think that was about?

GUARD #1:          Who even knows anymore. Hey, remember when we were just out of the Vault, starving, constantly on the verge of death but out of nowhere we get these alerts on our PipBoy to go do this, go do that and we’d get some supplies, blueprints and random stuff.

GUARD #2:          Yeah.

GUARD #1:          Like. Who did that?

GUARD #2:          What do you mean?

GUARD #1:          I mean we get out of the Vault, yeah?

GUARD #2:          Right…I walked out of the Vault.

GUARD #1:          Yeah and then boom, it’s, “hey there’s a jailbreak! Go fight and die! Good job! Here’s a toothbrush and a bottle of water.” Or “hey! Welcome to Grafton! Join a parade that isn’t a parade and fight this giant spleen monster. Good job! Here’s a pipe pistol and a shoe.”

GUARD #2:          Right. Yeah.

GUARD #1:          Okay, but all of that. Right?

GUARD #2:          Uh huh.

GUARD #1:          Who the hell was sending those messages and suggesting we do all of that stuff?

GUARD #2:          Yeah. It’s like, someone had to sending those messages out there right? Or programming that stuff?

GUARD #1:          Exactly! Exactly.

GUARD #2:          So who was it? The Judge?

GUARD #1:          Nah…too obvious.

GUARD #2:          Come on, spill.

GUARD #1:          Aliens.

GUARD #2:          Aliens?

GUARD #1:          Aliens did it. From outer space. Remember last Halloween when they came down here to suck us dry?

GUARD #2:          What?

GUARD #1:          No! No! I mean our brainwaves! With those siphon things. What if they had us do all of that stuff to test us, see what we’re made of….and then BAM! Fly on down here from Mars, drink up our brain juice and they’d KNOW. They’d know it all…be totally prepared to invade because they’d know how we’d react, what we’d do.

GUARD #2:          So, how do you know they’re from Mars?

GUARD #1:          They’re always from Mars.

GUARD #2:          But how do you know?

GUARD #1:          Or Venus or whatever! But I’m telling you…they’d drink up all our memories and be ready for anything.

GUARD #2:          Okay…but what good would things like Civil War Reenactments, canning dog food, delivering decades old messages and throwing a barbecue party do for aliens as far as raw data to prepare an invasion scenario around? I mean I hear what you’re saying, but it’s not really logical when you think about it.

GUARD #1:          (pause) God you’re such a bitch.

ROPER:                 HEY! Open up.

GUARD #1:          Hold it right there! Identify yourself.

ROPER:                 Name’s Roper. Leader of the Free Radicals.

GUARD #2:          And? The City of Watoga is in lockdown per order of Vault-Tec.

ROPER:                 Tell this Judge character I’ve come to call.

GUARD #1:          This area is restricted, so how about you clear off ROPER before we find one to hang you with.

GUARD #2:          Seriously Dave?

GUARD #1:          Can we not right now while we’re on duty?

ROPER:                 Boys.

SFX: STEALH DECLOAK. STRUGGLE.

GUARD #1:          Hey!

GUARD #2:          What the…?!

RADICAL #3:       I’ve never fired a plasma pistol against someone’s temple before, but I’ll bet it’ll be messy. Weapons. Drop em.

RADICAL #4:       (slow, patient, cold and emotionless) He prefers plasma. Me? I’m a simple man. That pressure you’re feelin’ right now darlin’? That’s ol Buck. Combat knife that has some miles on him. These power armors have just enough of a gap between the helmet and the chest piece that Buck can slide up on in, nice and easy…he loves that mid afternoon warmth of a brain stem. (whispers) The Boss down there wants to talk…me… (sniffs the gap in her armor creepily) I like to do a little more.

GUARD #2:          FUCK OFF! You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.

GUARD #1:          What do you want?

ROPER:                 Some courtesy. You pick on up that phone there kiddo, and tell your boss I’d like to talk. Just that. Talk.

GUARD #1:          Okay fine!

ROPER:                 Oh, and one other thing…the boys, well they do love to party. One of them has a little “party package” with a hair trigger and he strolled on by you 15 minutes ago in stealth. So if you and your tin can solider wannabe’s have any clever ideas, you’d be surprised just how much damage to your infrastructure just one Free Radical can do.

SFX: RADIO COMMS.

GUARD #1:          This is Watch Station 5 to Tower Air Command. Connect me to Fletcher. (pause) Well fucking PAGE him! I’ll hold. And open the Northwest Gate!

MEDIA: TRANSITION

END OF PART 1

BEGINNING OF PART 2

SCENE 8: RED SLOE REMAINS – EXT. DAY

SFX: FIRE CRACKLES.

DUCHESS:            Rise and shine gang! Breakfast is ready and then we’ve got to pack up and hit the road! Let’s go!

SFX: POT CLANGING.

POLLY:                  Sensors detect…a loud irritating noise. Duchess, want to tone it down a bit?

DUCHESS:            Any signs of trouble out there Polly?

POLLY:                  Those raiders who torched this place have not come back. At approximately 2am, I had a very brief discussion with what appears to be a half human, half molerat before reducing them to ash.

SOL:                       Morning everyone! What’s cookin?

MORT:                  Duchess…look, could we maybe slow up a bit? Sol’s snoring kept me up half the night. What’s the hurry to move on?

DUCHESS:            We’ve been in Amata’s hair long enough. She’s got cleanup and repair work to do and has a lot of decisions to make. It’s hard for anybody to have a clear head with all of us banging around distracting her.

AMATA:               Good morning.

DUCHESS:            Hey darlin’! How are you feeling?

AMATA:               Honestly? Tired. Empty. Exhausted.

DUCHESS:            Well…change is like that, so is heartbreak. (pause) Look, why don’t you think about coming with us? Come on over here. I whipped up some of my famous pumpkin pancakes.

AMATA:               Pumpkin pancakes?

DUCHESS:            Pumpkin pancakes. Was a specialty of mine at the truck stop way back when.

AMATA:               You worked at the Red Rocket Truck Stop?

DUCHESS:            Sure did! For a little while anyway, cook, waitress, ER Nurse, before I…well let’s just say I became a bit of an entrepreneur after that.

POLLY:                  Duchess has had a bit of a colorful career.

DUCHESS:            Now that’s enough of that Polly.

CRANE:                 Did someone say pancakes?

AMATA:               Hey Crane.

SOL:                       Morning Crane!

MORT:                  And this one…on the other side of me snoring even louder than Sol.

CRANE:                 Sorry about that. Moonshine hit me a little hard last night. Hey I was thinking about your suggestion to map the caves and mines Amata. Not a bad place to start. Your PipBoy can generate and map out areas right?

AMATA:               Yeah! A quick run through and we should be able to eyeball any unusual rock formations, hidden entrances, or doors. Although if this treasure exists, I can’t imagine it’ll be very hard to miss.

DUCHESS:            Y’all still think this treasure exists?

AMATA:               It’s plausible, but it still doesn’t answer the obvious question on why, if someone knew about something none of us did after living here for years, they wouldn’t just keep that to themselves.

SOL:                       It is a bit weird that someone would just broadcast a secret that big from the Pitt to the Atlantic.

DUCHESS:            Depends on if someone had an idea that there was a treasure and didn’t have the means to search themselves. You get hundreds of people showing up here in Appalachia poking through every dark hole, it’s a good way to find it faster than on your own.

AMATA:               Let everyone else do the work for you.

DUCHESS:            Before you swoop in after they find it.

POLLY:                  I’d like to see them try. I’ll happily bake anything to a crisp that so much as muscles in on our find.

SOL:                       You tell ‘em sis. Man these pancakes are good.

SFX: RADIO SWITCHED ON.

DUCHESS:            Mort what are you doing?

MORT:                  What? I’m turning on the radio. What does it look like?

DUCHESS:            We were talking darlin’!

MORT:                  Ah give me a break. These two DJs do this morning drivetime radio show, minus the driving. You can tell they can’t stand each other. One talks funny and the other one yells all the time.

AMATA:               (laughs) That’s The Night Wolf and Charles Bishop. Tonight I think High Priest Solomon does The Mothman Porchlight Theatre.

POLLY:                  I am detecting a lot of static Mort. Turn that thing off, they are obviously not on the air or you’re not working that thing right.

MORT:                  (annoyed) I know how to work a radio.

AMATA:               They’re always on the air…that’s odd.

SFX: RADIO STATIC HUMS.

SFX: PATRIOTIC MUSIC PLAYS.

ASH ROSE:           (seductively) Good morning you fighting orphans of Appalachia. This is your bacon and eggs start to the weekend. I’m Ash Rose, your voice of freedom, brought to you by your friends at Vault-Tec. Gather close, reception okay? It better be because this is an all-request live day, your favorite songs of better times.

DUCHESS:            Who on earth is that?

AMATA:               I…dunno. She’s new. Vault-Tec? They’re dead and gone.

ASH ROSE:           Today I’ve got a selection of notes passed up from the dark spots and high places of West Virginia, your memories and dreams for a better tomorrow. Tomorrow…that’s what we’re ready for isn’t it friends? When things get back to the way they used to be…back in the Vault, or before the war. Peace, prosperity and feeling like you were safe.

MORT:                  Sounds like a bunch of propaganda garbage to me. Just play the damned song already.

DUCHESS:            Quiet Mort! We’re listening.

ASH ROSE:           Now I know I’m a new voice on the airwaves, whispering in your ear, and you may be wondering why the change? Well friends, all I can tell you is that you should trust in Vault-Tec. We’re back, we’re here now…and from here on out. Things will be different. And it’s okay to be a little scared, fear is natural, but so are things we can cling to that help us through times when we’re scared: things like patriotism, pride in our great nation and faith. Faith in Vault-Tec, faith in each other…faith that change can be a little scary, but always pays tenfold in the end.

AMATA:               Something’s very wrong here…

ASH ROSE:           You know we wish we could’ve gotten here sooner, spared you all these years of chaos and confusion. But we’re here now and after so many of you reached out asking for help, reporting on the failings of your Five-0 New Responders, the new Brotherhood of Steel factions, the former voices you heard on these very radio waves, and your former Overseer, we were obliged to investigate. What we found was shocking, a secret grand jury was convened of your fellow 76ers and found widespread corruption, profiteering, theft, kidnapping and even murder. All perpetrated by a ring of power-hungry unpatriotic opportunists. Yes, opportunists. The evidence of their crimes will be shared with you when the time is right, but rest assured, Vault-Tec will keep you safe, will keep you free.

DUCHESS:            Bullshit.

AMATA:               Bullshit. (pause) Jinx.

ASH ROSE:           But enough of these discussions of conspiracy and unAmerican activities, it’s a beautiful morning in Appalachia, a beautiful dawn of a new day for all free men and women. Our first song request is made by none other than your steward, The Judge. And guess what? He wants this little number by Roy Williams who wants us to remember “The Days of Old”

MEDIA: SONG PLAYS

CRANE:                 What was all that about?

AMATA:               It’s par for the course for Appalachia. Usually things only get weird around Halloween when we fight Scorched Trick or Treaters, the Devil, or aliens from outer space.

CRANE:                 Are…are you kidding?

AMATA:               Welcome to Appalachia. (sighs) But it’s not my problem anymore. Don’t care.

DUCHESS:            Where are you goin’ darlin? You haven’t finished your pancakes.

AMATA:               They were great, but this place is like an old band aid. Sometimes you just have to rip it off quick to move on. Here.

SFX: PAPER CRINKLES.

DUCHESS:            What’s this?

AMATA:               The deed. It’ll unlock and encode the CAMP module to you. Just scan it in front of the iris and it’ll transfer ownership.

DUCHESS:            I don’t understand.

AMATA:               I’m giving it to you. The main building is gone, but it’s got ample power, a good location and water access. It’s the best place you’re going to find to settle down.

SOL:                       Amata! That’s…

POLLY:                  If I had tear ducts, I’d fake cry.

MORT:                  That’s a hell of a thing to do, kid.

DUCHESS:            Thank you darlin’. Normally I’m the one with a sage word or two…but I’ve got nothing to say. Where are going to go?

AMATA:               Not sure yet. Never really found my place out here.

CRANE:                 Well hell I’m going to hit some of the caves and mines, want to come with me?

AMATA:               Tempting, but I think I need to be alone for a bit…clear my head.

DUCHESS:            Perfectly understandable. Come here and give us a hug.

AMATA:               (laughs) Okay.

DUCHESS:            Don’t be a stranger now.

AMATA:               I won’t. Good bye.

SFX: FOOTSTEPS.

DUCHESS:            Now ain’t that a hell of a thing.

MORT:                  What do you think Duchess?

DUCHESS:            I think we’re home gang. Couple of trailers….a bar and tavern. Maybe a room to rent for travellers. Quiet little wayward spot.

SOL:                       What should we call it?

DUCHESS:            (smiling) I’ve got just the thing.

SCENE 9: WHITESPRING - EXT. DAY

SFX: BIRDS SINGING. GHOULS YELLING. EXPLOSION.

ATOMIC ALICE:  FORE! (laughs)

PATSY:                  I think you’re supposed to like yell that before you hit them.

FRITZ:                    You know I have to say, we’ve been sleeping on playing golf with live grenades.

ATOMIC ALICE:  You’re up Double P! Pull the pin and nine iron that thing through a window. It’s too quiet out here.

SFX: PIN PULLED.

PATSY:                  Like! Four!

SFX: SWIPE.

PATSY:                  Rats.

SFX: SWIPE.

PATSY:                  Missed again…

FRITZ:                    Uhhh…Pats…you need to hurry up and…

SFX: EXPLOSION

PATSY:                  (yells) Son of a bitch! I’m on fire!

ATOMIC ALICE:  (laughing) Need to work on your form kid! Oh man!

FRITZ:                    Oh my god! Drop and roll! Drop and roll! Damn! Hang on!

SFX: SPLASH OF WATER.

PATSY:                  FRITZ! I’M LIKE ALL WET NOW!

FRITZ:                    Uhhh…sorry?

PATSY:                  Well like TURN AROUND! You can see my nipples!

FRITZ:                    (laughing) It’s fine…look I’m a gentlemen. Take my sweater. Here.

SFX: CLOTHES RUSTLE.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Not bad Fritz! You’re rocking a full tin of biscuits on that chest.

FRITZ:                    There. Dry and warm?

PATSY:                  I’m shivering….that water was cold Fritz what the hell! I hope it wasn’t irradiated…

FRITZ:                    No, no it was fresh. Come here. We’ll get you dry.

SFX: RUBS ARMS.

FRITZ:                    Better?

PATSY:                  (smitten) It’s getting there. Still shivering though…

FRITZ:                    (coyly) We can probably fix that.

PATSY:                  (coyly) I’ll bet you can.

FRITZ:                    (coyly) I can teach you, you know. To swing I mean. It’s not that hard. Just need to work on your form a little, find the right club. Why don’t we go on over to the driving range?

PATSY:                  (confused) Driving range? (quietly) Like…do it in public?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Oh Jesus Christ on a jetpack Double P that is NOT what a driving range is for. I love you girlfriend but some days you’re an engine spinnin’ with the parking brake on.

SFX: PULLS PIN.

ATOMIC ALICE:  FORE!

SFX: SWIPE. GRENADE SOARS. EXPLODES.

DAMON:              Oh! DROLSHANKAAAAAA! SOME STUPID BITCH GOT DIRT AND GRASS IN MY EGGS BENEDICT! MAKE ME ANOTHER! (pause) DON’T YOU TALK BACK TO ME MISS MAMA! I DON’T CARE WHERE YOU FIND THE EGGS! Who did that?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Good morning!

DAMON:              Oh! IT’S YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU! DROLSHANKA! HOLD MY FLUFFY SLIPPERS, I’M GOING TO GO SLAP SOMEONE SILLY!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Hey Princess! How’s the eggs? (laughs)

PATSY:                  Not this guy again.

DAMON:              AND YOU! I love what you’ve done with your hair. How do you get it to come out of your nostrils like that?

PATSY:                  Oh God…can we like just go…or kill him? Or kill him and go?

DAMON:              FRITZ! It’s 7am! The golf course isn’t supposed to be open until 9!

FRITZ:                    (posh accent is back) Ah yes, quite quite. Well the early bird and the worm and all that…pip pip, ehhhh what?

DAMON:              You can drop the act you chisel chested street trash. Everyone KNOWS you’re a raider. Now get out of here before I call security!

FRITZ:                    I’ve been called worse things by better men.

ATOMIC ALICE:  God this guy is such a buzzkill. Let’s go finish tweaking out the Golf Club’s defenses…we need at least 5 more missile launchers and I’ll be happy.

DAMON:              Bye! Hope to see you never! DROLSHANKA! Get my corns tonic! These puppies are killing me! Make sure to put your back into it this time when you rub it in! Damon Toon doesn’t walk around in public with corns!

FRITZ:                    Hey, what are they up to?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Boyyyy howdy. Men in uniform. Let’s go say hi, I haven’t ruined someone’s relationship expectations in a while.

PATSY:                  I think that’s like…those Judgy Guard people.

GUARD #6:          Engineering Team Charlie reporting in. Whitespring receiver online. Confirm remote connection.

MODUS:              Access denied. You are not authorized to access Whitespring Security from this location.

FLETCHER:           Engineer Team Charlie, Fletcher here. We only have 80% control, check connections again. We’re getting some interference. Cut bunker surface connections if you need to.

GUARD #7:          Hey! You three! Nothing to see here. Move along.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Well heyyyyy tall, dark and assertive. What are you and the four eyes over there up to?

GUARD #7:          Whitespring Maintenance. Go about your business.

GUARD #6:          It’s no good. I’m severing bunker surface connections to isolate the Whitespring central computer.

FLETCHER:           Roger that.

MODUS:              You are attempting to sever a secure and confidential network. Cease this action immediately. Cease this….disconnecting….cease….this…..

GUARD #6:          Bunker connections are cut.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Tell you what black ops daddy, what if you went about MY business? You boys always on the job or do you make time to buy a gal a drink?

GUARD #7:          (flustered) I…you…you need to move along.

GUARD #6:          (sighs) You want to pull it together there Brown? Engineering Team Charlie to Tower Air Command, check it now.

FLETCHER:           Yeah that did it. Report back to base. Fletcher out.

FRITZ:                    What are you two doing hacking into Whitespring security? That’s a mainline connection to the central AI.

PATSY:                  Yeah…words and stuff!

GUARD #6:          (chuckles) You’ll find out soon enough.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What if I want to find out now? (whispers) Come on there…Brown, tell Mama Alice what you naughty boys in black are up to and I’ll be very, very pleased with you.

GUARD #7:          (flustered) It’s…I…you need to BACK UP!

SFX: RIFLE LOADED.

FRITZ:                    Let’s all calm down now fellas. We’re moving along.

GUARD #6:          I think the time for that has passed. Up against the wall.

PATSY:                  Don’t you tell me what to do!

FRITZ:                    Patsy come on! Do what he says!

ATOMIC ALICE:  No problem blondie, let me just give Brown here a goodbye kiss.

SFX: KISS.

GUARD #7:          (stammering) Uhh…ummm.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Goodbye.

SFX: GRENADE PINS DROP.

ATOMIC ALICE:  (laughs) RUN! (laughing)

GUARD #7:          Oh God! Oh God! Get it off!

GUARD #6:          Hold still! She’s tied them to your…

SFX: GOREY EXPLOSION.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Thanks for the memories boys! (laughs)

PATSY:                  What did you do?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Tied the rest of our golfing grenades to his belt buckle. Gets ‘em every time.

FRITZ:                    What do you think that was all about?

PATSY:                  Who even cares? Come on, let’s go finish decorating and then we need to like…think of a name for our raider gang and show these posh assholes a thing or two.

FRITZ:                    What did you have in mind?

ATOMIC ALICE:  This should be good.

PATSY:                  So listen…you know all these condo units right? They are like EVERYWHERE, but you can’t get into them?

FRITZ:                    Yeah?

PATSY:                  We could like…sell them. But like sell the same one in pieces. Tell people they can afford it by sharing their time with other morons staying here. Then when they figure out the doors won’t open, we can totally ice them and steal their junk after we’ve stolen their caps.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Ladies and Gentlemen, Raider Queen Patsy…Whitespring time shares…OHHHH the horror.

FRITZ:                    That’s not a bad idea, but…maybe we can talk about one of your other ideas? The one we talked about?

PATSY:                  OH! That is like…the best idea! So everyone is super dirty and gross out here right? Same underwear for YEARS. So what if we go door to door and sell fancy beauty stuff, like shampoos, tonics and skincare. Promise them it does everything from enhancing your love life to regrowing hair. The secret ingredient to Patsy’s Beauty Best hair and skincare? Radioactive fucks.

FRITZ:                    I think you mean flux.

PATSY:                  Yeah that too! Once everyone totally DIES we’d have lots of paper bags to raid.

ATOMIC ALICE:  Fritz, gotta say, it’s adorable that you’re her “yes ma’am”, but honestly Double P…we need to think bigger. Hey what was the name of the raider bot? The one you told me about?

PATSY:                  Rose?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Yeah! Her! She has a radio station?

PATSY:                  I think so.

ATOMIC ALICE:  You never went to see her?

PATSY:                  GOD no. Gag me with a toothpick. Moose did and she tried to hook him up on a date with a Deathclaw or something. I don’t know I wasn’t really listening when he was screaming for help on his radio.

FRITZ:                    Turn on your PipBoy radio…let’s hear it.

SFX: PIPBOY RADIO ON. STATIC.

ROSE:                    It's story time, with Rose! Once upon a time, there were two groups of people: One group of good people who needed food and supplies. And, one group of bad people who had food and supplies. The good people asked the bad people to share, but the bad people said no. The good people realized that dead people don't need food and supplies, so, they grew a spine, went to where the bad people lived, and killed them. Then, the good people went to bed with full stomachs and whatever else they needed. The end! The moral of the story is: be a Raider, because everyone else is a loser. If you want to know more, you know where to find me.

ATOMIC ALICE:  (laughs) YES! That! That is the energy we need. Let’s finish setting up our new pad, and go see if she wants to join our little gang.

PATSY:                  AFTER we hit the mall. I need new clothes…these ones are all burned and stuff.

FRITZ:                    (laughs) We can do that. Buy something nice. My treat.

ATOMIC ALICE:  (taunts) Buy something nice…my treat…if we’re looking for a gang name might as well go with the Softsoaps.

MEDIA: TRANSITION

SCENE 10: CHARLESTON JUNK YARD - EXT. DAY

SFX: TRASH BEING THROWN.

MAMA:                (angry yelling)

PUNCH:                That no wall mama! That bucket! Can’t build house in tree with bucket! (mumbles) Stupid Mama…

SUSIE:                   There's a hole in the bucket,

Dear Liza, dear Liza

There's a hole in the bucket,

Dear Liza, there's a hole. Sing it Mr. Bear!

BEAR:                    I don’t really feel like…

SUSIE:                   (yelling) I SAID SING IT MR. BEAR!

BEAR:                    Alright! Alright! Jeez…

Then fix it, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, dear Henry

Then fix it, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, fix it.

PUNCH:                MOUNTAIN MAMA!

SUSIE                    Ohhhh! Look Mr. Punch! An old tire! Maybe you could make us a tire swing?

PUNCH:                Duhhh…but tire for car?

SUSIE:                   (laughs) No, Mr. Punch. We can tie a rope around it and hang it from our tree and we can go swingy swing!

MAMA:                (yelling)

PUNCH:                Mama say she take in her big pack pack.

SUSIE:                   Thank you Mama! (pause) Mr. Punch, is Chad okay?

PUNCH:                What you mean?

SUSIE:                   I dunno…he seems so sad sometimes.

PUNCH:                Maybe we make him surprise? Punch make cake?

SUSIE:                   No, not I don’t think it’s like that. Things have just been different…we used to have fun, all day long. Now…he just looks tired. I think…I think it’s a deep sad.

MAMA:                (mumbling)

PUNCH:                Mama say maybe he need hot mole girlfriend.

MAMA:                (mumbling)

PUNCH:                No Mama! You NASTY!

MAMA:                (laughs)

SUSIE:                   I don’t think that’s it. Sometimes the door will open too fast or like this morning when you dropped that pot of soup and he came running out real fast. He just looks…sad and angry…or maybe like he’s waiting for something.

PUNCH:                Waiting for Santa?

BEAR:                    Maybe when we get home and we’re working on our tree house you could ask him.

SUSIE:                   Yeah. Yeah! That’s true Mr. Honeypot Bear. Maybe….oh! I know! His birthday!

PUNCH:                It Chode’s birthday?

SUSIE:                   Maybe? I dunno. He never said when it was. Wait! We’ve never thrown HIM a party. He always throws parties for us! Or does Christmas or Halloween or whatever. Let’s do something just for him!

PUNCH:                Oh! Punch like! NOW Punch make cake! With yummy honey frosting!

BEAR:                    Ohhhhh yeahhhhh that’s the good stuff. You’d better save me a slice!

SFX: TREASURE HUNTER MOLE MINER SOUND.

SUSIE:                   What’s that?

MAMA:                (excited yelling)

PUNCH:                Mama say that one of her kids. They look for trash and stuff to sell for her.

SUSIE:                   Mama’s got kids! Are they like me?

PUNCH:                They like mama, smelllll baaaaaddddd.

SUSIE:                   Well let’s go say hi! Hi! There my name is!

MAMA:                (annoyed running around)

SUSIE:                   My name is….hey! CAN YOU STOP RUNNING AROUND FOR A GOD DAMNED MINUTE?!

PUNCH:                Mama say they a dick tick to Nuka Cola. They drink lots…get up in space on sugar.

SUSIE:                   Ohhhhhh! That’s why Daddy won’t let me have too many. He said there wasn’t enough room in the garden to bury anyone else.

BEAR:                    Can we go home now? This sun isn’t good for my fur. I don’t think Chad glued me together very well.

MAMA:                (talking to treasure miner)

PUNCH:                Mama’s little one give mama lots of special stuff for tree house! YAY!

SUSIE:                   Really! Oh thank you! Thank you! This is going to be the best tree house ever!

SFX: RUNNING UP.

DUKE:                   Hooooo Wheeee! Look there’s another of them rascals that gots treasure! Give ‘em both barrels Jesse!

JESSE:                    Hooooooo doggies! My God it’s comin’ right for us!

SFX: SHOTGUN BLASTS.

SUSIE:                   Oh! (gasps) Oh no!

MAMA:                (yelling like, “my babiesss!”)

PUNCH:                Why….why bad men do that?!

DUKE:                   WOOOOO! LOOK AT THESE BLUEPRINTS JESSE! Let’s go kill some more of these mutated bastards!

JESSE:                    Let’s take it’s mask! We can scare Wade with it back home!

DUKE:                   BOOO! HE HE HE!

MAMA:                (agony)

SUSIE:                   They….they killed Mama’s family!

PUNCH:                (comforting) It okay Mama! It okay Mama! (angry) BAD! BAD MAN!

JESSE:                    Hey! Is that one!

DUKE:                   Nah! That’s just some supermutant. They never drop anything good. Come on! I think I heard another one clanging away over that way!

JESSE:                    YEEEEEE HAWWWWW!

SFX: RUNNING.

SUSIE:                   They….killed….MAMA’s FAMILY.

BEAR:                    Ummm…Susie. Susie don’t.

SFX: BLADE PULLED.

BEAR:                    Oh shit. Ummm…can you put me down please. You’ve got that look again and I don’t like blood in my fur.

PUNCH:                BAD MEN! PUNCH CRUSH PUNY MEATBAGS!

SUSIE:                   (furious, emotionless, deadly earnest) No. You stay here. Mama’s upset. It’s playtime..

SFX: RUNNING INTO DISTANCE.

SUSIE:                   Then cut it, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, dear Henry

Then cut it, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, cut it.

MAMA:                (upset crying saying things like they were so young. They weren’t even aggro. They were passive and just liked to collect treasures)

PUNCH:                There there. Punch sorry for Mama. It okay. It okay.

MAMA:                (asking we have to bury my boy)

PUNCH:                Yes. Punch can do. You rest Mama. Punch get shovel.

SFX: DIGGING NOISE. IN THE DISTANCE WE HEAR SUSIE’S REVENGE.

DUKE:                   Over here Jesse! I heard something clangin! Wait…it’s…well hello there little…

SUSIE:                   With what shall I cut it,

Dear Liza, dear Liza?

With what shall I cut it,

Dear Liza, with what?

DUKE:                   What are you? Oh god! No! Get off me! Get off!

JESSE:                    Duke! Duke where you at?! What’s wrong!

SFX: GUNSHOTS.

PUNCH:                Mama help Punch? We pick up gentle. Poor Mama. Poor Mama’s little boy. Punch sorry.

JESSE:                    Duke! (pause) Duke! Answer me! Duke…is that you? OH! OH GOD MY LEG! I DUN CAN’T WALK NOW YOU LITTLE SHIT!

SFX: GUNSHOTS

JESSE:                    Here! Take it! Take it all! I’ve got a full set of plans! Brand new plans! You want caps?! Take ‘em! What? Foundation! We’re from Foundation! OWWWW! SPRUCE KNOB! (pause) No! No! Get away! Get away from me!

SFX: CHOPPING NOISES.

PUNCH:                (Punch humming “Taps” song as Susie chops and sings somewhere in the distance)

SUSIE:                   With an axe, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, dear Henry

With an axe, dear Henry,

Dear Henry, an axe.

PUNCH:                It okay Mama. Punch will do.

SFX: SHOVELING.

SUSIE:                   Mama? Are you okay?

MAMA:                (crying saying yes)

SUSIE:                   Mr. Punch let’s take Mama home. We’ve got plenty for our treehouse.

PUNCH:                BAD MEN! BAD MEN!

SUSIE:                   That’s right Mr. Punch. Bad men. Bad men from a place called Foundation. Come on Mr. Honeypot Bear. We’re going to go make a costume!

BEAR:                    A….a costume?

SUSIE:                   It’s never too early for Tricks and Treats.

SFX: VERTIBIRDS SOAR OVERHEAD FAST.

PUNCH:                What that?! What that?!

SUSIE:                   They’re….they’re headed right for our house! COME ON! Come on!

SFX: RUNNING.

MEDIA: TRANSITION

SCENE 11: RUSTY PICK - EXT. DAY

SFX: SAWS MILLING WOOD. HAMMERING.

CHAD:                   We need about 18 more boards dude!

JAKE:                     Sure thing! This is coming along nice.

CHAD:                   Yeah! The kid’s gonna love it. Give her a little place to play and hang out.

JAKE:                     Everything cool with Moose?

CHAD:                   Don’t worry about it bro, he’ll come around. Just keep your head down. If you want to get on his good side, a few cases of Old Possum can warm him up a bit.

JAKE:                     (laughs) I can probably scrounge that up.

CHAD:                   It’s nothing personal. It’s just been us out here for a bit together, kind of got a thing going. Patsy started killing the vibe and then she up and dumped him.

JAKE:                     I was wondering where she got off to. Sorry to hear that.

CHAD:                   I think he was hoping it would mean the start of a BroFit Summer Slam or something, two bros single and ready to mingle.

JAKE:                     That’s kind of your thing, isn’t it?

CHAD:                   Used to be…these days I just want peace and quiet, make sure the kid is happy and safe and stuff. (chuckles) You know I used to bust my old man’s balls back in the vault when he’d sit up on the upper level of the atrium with the so called good ol’ boys drinking their beers and watching us all run wild.

JAKE:                     I think sometimes the things we want and what’s important change because we do.

CHAD:                   True enough. Plus, let’s be honest dude…we’ve been through some shit. Every time I hear a Vertibird, a wendigo or some jackass playing with a train whistle down by the train yard it sends me into a fight mode manic panic. You ever wish things had been different out here?

JAKE:                     You don’t have to tell me. Look at me.

CHAD:                   Oh yeah…shit I’m sorry man. I mean, I just wish I could forget all that baggage weighing me down. Plus…you remember how Old Nurse Simpson used to tell us back at camp that she could predict a storm was coming because her cankle will tingle or some shit?

JAKE:                     (laughs) Yeah I remember.

CHAD:                   Sometimes at night I sit out here after I read the kid her stories and tuck her in and I listen. Just listen…when you slow down enough you can feel it. (pause) Can’t you feel it?

JAKE:                     What?

CHAD:                   The storm? Like something’s comin’ but you don’t know what?

JAKE:                     I…I don’t know.

CHAD:                   Yeah…yeah fuck it. Think I just need a vacation and just a day, one day…where nothing happens. (yells at the sky) You hear me Santa? You can keep the cheerleader! That’s what I want for Christmas this year!

JAKE:                     (awkward) Yeah….well I’m gonna go grab a few more logs.

CHAD:                   Sounds good dude!

SFX: WALKING AWAY.

JAKE:                     Jesus what’s up with him?

SFX: HAMMERING.

CHAD:                   (humming country roads)

SFX: DRAGGING IN GRASS NOISE.

CHAD:                   (slowly stop humming)

SFX: LOADS GUN.

CHAD:                   (quietly) take me hommeeeeee. (loud) HEY! You can get your ass out from behind my trailer whoever you are before you make me blow a hole right through the side of my new bang bus!

SFX: FOOTSTEPS STUMBLING.

JOHNS:                 Ch….Chad…

CHAD:                   …Commander? What the hell?

JOHNS:                 (barely conscious) They’re…they’re coming…

SFX: COLLAPSES.

CHAD:                   Johns!

SFX: SCRAMBLE OVER TO PICK HIM UP.

CHAD:                   Hang on dude. Got me a Stimpak.

SFX: INJECT NOISE.

JOHNS:                 (broken) He’s…he’s dead. Some Guardsman shot him down…can’t believe it…

CHAD:                   What? Who?

JOHNS:                 Dolos. Dolos is gone. We tried to…we couldn’t (emotional) it was too late. He’s moving. He’s taking Appalachia.

CHAD:                   What the hell are you talking about dude? WHO?

JOHNS:                 The Judge. He’s flying the Vault-Tec flags over Watoga.

SFX: DART HITS.

CHAD:                   No, no…..not again! GOD DAMN IT!

SFX: SHOTS FIRING.

SFX: BODY FALLS TO GROUND.

SFX: RUNNING.

GUARD #3:          Target neutralized. Target acquired. Secondary Target acquired. Power’s been cut, defenses neutralized. Clear skies.

GUARD #4:          Copy that. Standy.

SFX: VERTIBIRD SOARS IN. DROPS NET.

SFX: BODY DRAGGED.

GUARD #3:          Packages are secured. Have a good flight.

GUARD #4:          Copy that. Tower Air Command, operation complete. Returning to base.

SFX: VERTIBIRD SOARS AWAY.

SFX: RUNNING.

MOOSE:               CHAD! DUDE! Awww hell…..Jake! Hey! Loser! Wake the hell up!

SFX: SMACK.

JAKE:                     (moaning) Someone….dart hit me…

MOOSE:               Son of a bitch I knew it! Judiciary Guard. Chad was right. Come on. Get up.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

JAKE:                     What are we going to do?

MOOSE:               We’re going to go GET him that’s what we’re going to do. To be honest we’re kind of getting good at this dude. I wish we would’ve just moved into an underground cave so people would leave us the hell alone.

SFX: POUNDING ON STAIRS.

SUSIE:                   DAD! DADDY! CHAD! CHAD!

MOOSE:               They got him kid.

SUSIE:                   What do you mean?

JAKE:                     The Judge has him.

MEDIA: TRANSITION

SCENE 12: AMS TOWER – INT. NIGHT

SFX: DINNER PLATES CLINKING. PIANO MUSIC PLAYS SOFTLY.

JUDGE:                 …so in the midst of some sort of psychotic break after being sliced open by a Mole Miner, she decides to take advantage of the old Sickleman legends, puts on this costume and just starts chopping their heads off.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  (laughs) Probably not the best way to get her point across. She could’ve just written a note or left a holotape lying around.

FLETCHER:           Holotapes? Don’t talk to me about her holotapes. She made probably 500 copies of each one. I’ve been carrying around these damned things forever but don’t know what to do with them. Speaking of the Overseer, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll collect her for dinner.

SFX: CHAIR PUSHED BACK. DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES.

JUDGE:                 Right? More wine?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  I really shouldn’t.

JUDGE:                 Never an empty glass at my table. Come on Sinclair, when’s the last time you had a good Merlot?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Honestly? Labor Day ’77.

JUDGE:                 Practically a lifetime ago. I insist. Say when.

SFX: WINE POUR

CPT. SINCLAIR:  When! Your courtesy and graciousness are appreciated, but the President and top brass have some deep concerns about the status of this project. My orders were not only to assure things get back on track, but also answer some lingering questions and concerns. In that regard, do you mind if I record our discussion?

JUDGE:                 (annoyed) I do.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  All’s the pity.

SFX: HOLOTAPE RECORDS

CPT. SINCLAIR:  We were given assurances that the technology would be perfected within two years of the Reclamation Day event. Not only did Vault 76 not open on the agreed upon date, but a full five years later. Can you explain the timetable change?

JUDGE:                 Look, the answer to that is a simple one. She was the wrong choice for the job. She took one look outside and she and Security Chief Vince hacked the chronometer to give them another 5 years for the Scorched Plague to subside. If you want more details the boys are bringing her up now to join us, so you’ll have to ask her.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  On whose authority was she selected as Overseer of Vault 76?

JUDGE:                 To my knowledge at her final interview that would be Giles Wolstencroft.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  I’m not familiar with that person.

JUDGE:                 Vault-Tec Assistant CEO, real candy ass in a suit. Dr. Braun strongly advised that she be eliminated after it was discovered she’d hacked into encrypted Vault-Tec company files and military communication. She was collected by Vault-Tec Security and met with Dr. Braun and Wolstencroft as 76 was nearing completion. He disappeared soon after, not sure what happened to him.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Neither are we.

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

FLETCHER:           Right in here. I believe we’re serving Brahmin Rib Roast this evening followed by a lovely…

OVERSEER:          You’re a son of a bitch, you know that?

JUDGE:                 Speak of the devil! Come! Come join us. May I introduce Captain Ryan Sinclair, head of Sigma Squad, Enclave Department of the Army. Sinclair, meet our famous Overseer, the bane of camp counselors everywhere!

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Yes I’ve heard quite a lot about you. Overseer….what exactly?

OVERSEER:          It’s classified.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Not to me, I think. I need your name and I won’t ask again.

OVERSEER:          Adrienne. Adrienne Wayne.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Miss Wayne…

OVERSEER:          I’d prefer you call me the Overseer. I think after the shit I’ve dealt with from you people you can afford to call me by well-earned title.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Fair enough. Please. Sit.

SFX: INTERCOM BUTTON.

JUDGE:                 Boys, wheel in our final guest.

SFX: DOORS OPENED. CAGE WHEELED IN.

CHAD:                   Let me out of this monkey cage you pansy ass dickheads!

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Is this him?

JUDGE:                 Meet Chad Johnson, our resident pain in the ass.

CHAD:                   Tell you what, how about you open this door and we go round two. I’d love to see just how far up your ass my boot will go!

JUDGE:                 Charming, isn’t he?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  He was responsible for the loss of Vault 51?

FLETCHER:           He was.

CHAD:                   Not to be rude or anything…nah fuck it, I’ll be rude, just who the hell are you supposed to be?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Captain Ryan Sinclair of the Enclave.

CHAD:                   Is that like a sex cult for incels?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  And you’re saying I can’t kill him? Just how many times can I try before his molecules come apart?

JUDGE:                 We’re still crunching the numbers on that one. Don’t worry. He’s a caged animal for now, but by the time we finish here tonight he won’t be a problem anymore.

OVERSEER:          Chad.

CHAD:                   Miss Overseer. You maybe want to toss me a bread knife so I can Silver Shroud my way out of this cage?

OVERSEER:          Anticipating problems, our host appears to have only given me a spork and a napkin.

CHAD:                   The spork…my old neme…nemam….anemone.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  I think you mean nemesis.

CHAD:                   (laughs) NERD and an incel.

FLETCHER:           Everything going alright?

JUDGE:                 Fine! Fletcher. Just fine. Captain Sinclair here in light of polite dinner conversation was just hosting a little interrogation.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  There’s no need for it to be unpleasant. If anything, I’d like to help resolve any concerns from above and help expedite things for you. You’ll find that the Enclave can be quite…supportive when it comes to mutual goals.

CHAD:                   Sex cult. I knew it. No one dresses in uniforms like that without some kind of wild kink. You into robots or octopus?

OVERSEER:          The Enclave. Is that what you’re calling yourself now? Shadow governments and conspirators who hid in coat closets, everyone else died but not you…not all of you.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  No, not us. You know Miss Wayne just before you came in, we were discussing a lot of your past history, your antics…your actions. To my understanding you had a clear directive from Vault-Tec, an oath and promise to fulfill and while by all accounts you did so dutifully, when it came time to pass the torch so to speak so our little…experiment could begin. You did quite the opposite.

OVERSEER:          And I’d do it again.

CHAD:                   Your last name is Wayne? Kind of ruins the mystery if I’m honest.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  See, that there…right there…is what got us into this position as a species to begin with. Freedom of choice without guidelines, expectations and certain agreements is messy, untidy, and unordered. A question for the table. Mr. Fletcher, when we are born what is the very first thing that we ask for?

FLETCHER:           I don’t understand the question…

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Come on man…you emerge into the world, a brand-new healthy baby boy. What…do you ask for?

FLETCHER:           To be held?

CPT. SINCLAR:   You’d think so…but no. Your honor?

JUDGE:                 To be fed, nurtured by our mother.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Good, but no. (pause) Attention. The very first thing we do in this world is SCREAM our lungs out for attention. The beautiful gift of life is granted to us, we experience firsthand the miracle of creation, cells divided, grow and multiply, and out we come. Instead of emerging in rapt wonder as our senses experience the true universe itself, the first thing we do is make it all about us.

JUDGE:                 An excellent point.

CHAD:                   Ah hell you’re one of these long winded expedi…expo….one of those exhibitionist villains. Can someone wake me when we get to the point?

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

JUDGE:                 Ah! Here we are! Our Chef’s specialty! Crown brahmin rib roast, roasted tatos and greens. You must try it with the au jus sauce.

SFX: PLATES SERVED AND CLINK DOWN.

OVERSEER:          You’re wrong. We don’t make it about us. That is the dim view of a cynical mind. In truth we spend most of our lives trying to FIND a place for ourselves in the world. That, by nature I agree is selfish, and yet when it is in the service of others, TO humanity, the act remains selfless. I did what I did, because I could not in good conscience let them walk out that vault door into your little rat maze without the best chance for survival…your results be damned.

CHAD:                   Yeah! Give em hell!

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Ah! I see now. That’s it! Yes of course! The maternal instinct, so primal, such a…if you’ll excuse me…feminine trait, that it never occurred to us that THAT is the reason why. Why despite swearing a duty not just to Vault-Tec, but to America itself…you broke your agreement.

OVERSEER:          We’re a family.

CHAD:                   A pretty dysfunctional family, but she’s right. Family doesn’t have to be blood to be true. My family is a supermutant, a walking carpet that smells like onions, a kid that scares the hell out of me and a brother for life. It’s the only thing in the end that matters. Not your power play bullshit. Any day and every day, you can come at me all you want…I can dish it out and take it, but the only agreement I signed is one that says if you fuck with me with me and mine, I’ll tear down your whole damned world.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  No Miss Wayne, no Mr. Johnson those are delusions. Your world is cluttered, messy, unordered and it is survival alone that created a scenario where artificial, oh so very skin deep relationships, were forged through necessity NOT reality. Denying this fundamental truth will lead to a very early grave for both of you. (pause) The roast is excellent.

FLETCHER:           (awkward) Yeah…it’s great.

OVERSEER:          Delusion is an interesting word. You people preach patriotism and promise of some kind of (taunting) a “new dawn for America”, “Democracy is Non-Negotiable” “Rebuilding America’s Future Today!” There’s a word for what you are, one penned in blood, yet which always, always historically fails. And you know why it fails? Because when you look in the mirror, you’re so deluded that you see yourself as a god, as opposed to the cold, crushing reality of just how small and impotent you really are.

SFX: SLAP

OVERSEER:          (gasp)

CHAD:                   You slapped a woman dude? Weak.

FLETCHER:           Sir! There’s no need for…

JUDGE:                 Not now Fletcher.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  You were saying?

OVERSEER:          (shocked, emotional, but gathering herself) The first one to strike is the weakest, because it’s the easiest thing in the world. Violence is the idiot’s answer to…

SFX: SLAP

OVERSEER:          (shaper gasp)

SFX: RATTLING OF BAR

CHAD:                   Why don’t you come over here and try and slap me dude? I’ve always wondered just how much of a backhand it would take to snap a neck!

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Please. Continue Miss Wayne. (pause) No? Nothing more?

SFX: CUT INTO BEEF.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  (chewing thoughtfully). Simply delicious. (pause) I quite imagine you’re well-educated Miss Wayne and I’m sure could speak at exhausting length about the founding fathers of this country, so indulge me if you already know this little nugget of history. In 1595 when this land was still yet to be (emphases here on the word tamed) tamed, in France, Jesuits priests took it upon themselves to collect and instruct on a set of rules to serve as a framework for an ordered society. Though widely circulated at the time they had little impact until almost two centuries later when a Virginia schoolmaster conducted a penmanship exercise in class. Slowly, and by hand, quill swirling with a steady hand, these 110 rules were copied by a young but promising student named George Washington. At an essential age for a boy on the cusp of manhood, these rules on common courtesy, civility and chivalry became the defining tenants of his life. Later, they would serve as the framework in spirit for an orderly and aristocratic United States of America. This is essential to history because it allowed for the dirty, unwashed, uncultured rabble of farmers, fishermen, masons and blacksmiths to become civilized and more importantly to dream of a perfect Union. They were called “The Rules of Civility and Decent Behaviour in Company and Conversation”. My personal favorite is Rule Number 82, “Undertake not what you cannot Perform but be Careful to keep your Promise.” (darkly) If you couldn’t do the job, you shouldn’t have taken it Miss Wayne. Because of your actions myself and my men have left a spotlessly clean, orderly and uncluttered installation to once again wade into the SHIT with the rest of the rabble and I once again find myself eating the flesh of a two headed cow and pretending it’s delicious because that, my dear, is civil and decent to my host. The Enclave is the inevitable result of a world unordered headed towards its inexorable end. We’re the civil and decent framework to start again, perhaps a little more worldly wise in what society requires in agreements to maintain that order.

CHAD:                   Blah blah fucking blah. Is someone going to kill me so I can sales in the Atomic Shop? I had my eye on an Ice Cream shop for the kid.

FLETCHER:           (awkward) That’s sage advice for anyone to be sure.

JUDGE:                 Well said Sinclair.

CHAD:                   Please…for the love of God get to the point. Why are we here?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Finally, a question from the caged dog worth acknowledging. Getting back to the status of the array, data submitted and reviewed by Enclave Research indicated a steep decline in the anticipated kill/death ratio of subjects required to algorithmically correct transcription errors. This occurred approximately 3 months post Reclamation Day, what do you attribute this to?

JUDGE:                 Search me. The workshop resource conflict zones were setup as planned. Automated drone rewards drops for life threatening events and missions worked as expected.

OVERSEER:          (quietly) May I answer that question?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Yes! Yes you may…see? Civility, it’s so much less painful isn’t it? Enlighten me.

SFX: PHONE COMM RINGS.

JUDGE:                 Fletcher would you get that?

FLETCHER:           Yes sir. Excuse me.

SFX: CHAIR PUSHED BACK.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Continue Miss Wayne.

OVERSEER:          Vault 76 was positioned as a control vault to our residents, wanting for nothing, with finer accommodations, technology and resources than other Vault installations it appears. You created a scenario for them to live together, grow together, and live in peace, free of conflict and division. Though billed as being a place to save the best and brightest of us, that was just slick marketing. We didn’t go in there as the best and brightest, but by the time we emerged, today and forever they are the best of us. They chose to try and work together, build together, find friendship, love and family out here. They also now know who you are, what you’ve done and what’s been done to them.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  All excellent points. Other Vaults had different scenarios that would’ve encouraged a more vigorous struggle for resources out here. It was clearly a mistake on behalf of Vault-Tec.

JUDGE:                 Fletcher is it time?

FLETCHER:           Yes your honor, it appears as though our new friend Roper delivered on our arrangement. The uplink handshake has been confirmed. We have command line access. Lazarus Array awaiting instructions.

JUDGE:                 Excellent! Make sure the boys downstairs give them access to the parking garage as agreed. Look Sinclair, I can understand your frustration, it’s been frustrating for us as well, which is why we’ve taken measures to course correct. This clearly isn’t working as we anticipated, but the very nature of experimentation is discovery and enlightenment, sometimes messy, but always instructive. What is the current completion date for the Sanctuary facility in the Mire, Fletcher?

FLETCHER:           2 more months. We’ve been assured the system can hold molecular patterns twice that length of time, but Somnus Conditioning can proceed in groups of 5 starting as early as next week if we keep them sedated here in Watoga.

JUDGE:                 Splendid!

OVERSEER:          What are you going to do?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  An excellent question. I’d like to be briefed on any action before you proceed.

JUDGE:                 Yeah, yeah, we’re getting to that Sinclair. Overseer, Chad, if you’ll excuse us. Fletcher, Sinclair if you can step over here, please.

SFX: CHAIRS PUSHED BACK.

FLETCHER:           I’m sorry.

OVERSEER:          What?

CHAD:                   Hey! Get up and run! What the hell’s the matter with you! Now’s your chance!

OVERSEER:          To go where??

SFX: FOOTSTEPS. INTERCOM BUTTON PUSHED.

JUDGE:                 Conference Room Partition J5, activate.

OVERSEER:          What is this? Fletcher? Fletcher!

CHAD:                   Make my words! I’m gonna tear this tower down you limp dicked sons of…

SFX: WALL DESCENDS AND SEALS.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  I don’t enjoy games Judge.

JUDGE:                 Games? No games here. You wanted a briefing, you wanted results and problems solved. Watch and you can take this back to your army boys.

FLETCHER:           Sir, I have some concerns about…

JUDGE:                 I said, not now Fletcher. Bring up the surveillance monitors and set camera feeds to cycle.

FLETCHER:           Yes sir.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  These are live feeds of the entire region?

JUDGE:                 Almost…it appears that Chad and his gang dismantled the camera feeds in the Ash Heap, but that’s no matter.

FLETCHER:           Resonant frequency calibrated and ready for transmission. Did you have a carrier choice?

JUDGE:                 Surprise me.

FLETCHER:           Selecting Track 5.

SFX: KLAXONS BLARE.

COMPUTER:       Attention. Calliope 1 is now armed. All field personnel to stations, equip safety equipment immediately. There will be no further auditory warnings.

FLETCHER:           Establishing override of PipBoy radio receivers. Block 125: lock. Block 250: lock. Lazarus Array standing by.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  My patience is wearing thin.

JUDGE:                 It’s Christmas Sinclair, you don’t ask what’s in the present before you open it. Watch and listen. This glass partition is sound proofed, and in a short moment you’ll be thankful it is. Miss Wayne in there, currently throwing things around, and Chad attempting to urinate on an electrical panel to escape will offer an instructive close-up of a new asset we’ve developed to full restore experimental control here in Appalachia.

FLETCHER:           We’re ready to transmit. (under his breath) If their PipBoy speakers don’t blow out first.

JUDGE:                 You’re aware of the Vault 92 experiment in your neck of the woods?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Of course. White Noise Mind Suggestion Combat Experimentation. One of our more covert attempts at remote command and control of the population for conflict areas.

JUDGE:                 Exactly. During the field test, there was an accident that their Overseer had to quietly cover up when testing modulated low frequency white noise. An overload caused transmission of a resonant frequency into the sound booth leading to an unplanned discovery. The implantation of the alien DNA into all Vault 76 residents that makes Project Lazarus possible comes with a datasheet that helpfully included its resonant frequency.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  So?

JUDGE:                 So, we know the exact frequency at which every modified cell in their bodies will resonate. You ever played with a wine glass and some water? Watch. Fletcher?

SFX: KEYBOARD TYPING. POWER BUILDS.

FLETCHER:           It’s done. God help us.

SFX: CROSSFADE BACK INTO DINING AREA.

CHAD:                   Come on! Grab that fork over there! Get me out of here.

COMPUTER:       Warning. Calliope 1 Sonic Weapon is now charging.

OVERSEER:          Sonic weapon? Oh dear God no…he can’t…

CHAD:                   What the hell is a sonic weapon?

COMPUTER:       The Calliope 1 Sonic Weapon will automatically commence transmission in t-minus 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

SFX: PIPBOY RADIO SWITCHES ON.

CHAD:                   My PipBoy…what the…

COMPUTER:       Please stand by for an important message from Vault-Tec. Thank you for your service to your country.

MEDIA: WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL COVER SONG PLAYS.

CHAD:                   (laughs) Is…is this a joke? You’re trolling everyone with music dude? (laughs) what a… (grunt of pain)

OVERSEER:          Oh no… (hiss of pain) my head…

CHAD:                   (sharp pain) What is…what did he…

OVERSEER:          (fighting through pain to speak) He’s…killing us…he’s killing us all at once…

CHAD:                   (in agony) We can’t stay dead….so what is he (intense pain and sharp cry) AHHH! GOD! MY HEAD!

SFX: SCENE CROSSFADES TO FOUNDATION.

BRIAN:                  How dare you! I don’t care if you’re from here originally or not! Spruce Knob was OUR home! Our Pioneer Scout Camp! Now be off with you before I contact the authorities!

MARYANNE:      Brian? Brian! Our radios…what’s happening?!

BRIAN:                  …something’s wrong. We’re getting an external radio connection.

MARYANNE:      (hiss of pain) It’s….there’s something wrong with the song…some kind of….(cry of agony, crying in pain)

BRIAN:                  MaryAnne? MaryAnne! (suddenly in pain) Can’t…stop it! My head! Oh lord my head! (in agonizing pain)

SFX: SCENE CROSSFADES TO WHITESPRING. SCREAMS ALL AROUND.

ATOMIC ALICE:  What is with this muzak dude?

FRITZ:                    I dunno…what’s wrong with all of them?

ATOMIC ALICE:  No idea, but this is awesome. They must really hate this goldie oldies shit. Hey Pats! You finish trying on that blouse yet? Let’s grab and go! See if they can catch us shoplifting again!

SFX: DOOR OPENS.

PATSY:                  (crying in agony) Something’s wrong….it’s in my head! IT’S IN MY HEAD!

FRITZ:                    Patsy! Pats! Come on…what is it? Gimme a Stimpak?!

ATOMIC ALICE:  What’s wrong with her?

FRITZ:                    A STIMPAK DAMN IT! NOW!

ATOMIC ALICE:  Cool your tits lover boy. Here you go.

SFX: STIMPAK INJECT.

PATSY:                  (moaning in agony)

FRITZ:                    It’s not working…it’s got to be…that song. Doing something to them…

PATSY:                  (slowly wails higher but be careful not to go too hot on your mic) AHHHHHHH!

SFX: GOREY EXPLOSION.

FRITZ:                    OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!

ATOMIC ALICE:  DUDE! WHAT THE FUCK?! P IS EXPLODED!

SFX: GOREY EXPLOSIONS ALL AROUND.

FRITZ:                    Patsy! (crying) Oh God! Patsy!

ATOMIC ALICE:  (laughing) It’s fine! She’s got a get out of death trump card. Watch! See! She’s fading away already.

FRITZ:                    What….what is that?

ATOMIC ALICE:  Paper bag. Want some spoiled meat? (laughing)

FRITZ:                    Where is she? Where did she go? Where did they all go?

SFX: SCENE CROSSFADES TO RUSTY PICK.

SUSIE:                   What’s happening?

MOOSE:               We’re going to war is what’s happening. Grab all the weapons we’ve got in the back dude! Come on! The Chad needs us! We’re gonna raid that tower and light it up!

PUNCH:                Punch mad! Punch big mad!

SFX: PUNCH THROUGH WALL.

PUNCH:                Owie. Punch got boo boo.

MOOSE:               Save that for those Judiciary Guards dude. Remember what we talked about?

PUNCH:                Punch smash heads?

MOOSE:               That’s right dude. Crush those melons and go.

SUSIE:                   (angry) No one is telling me what’s happening!

MAMA:                (angry grunting)

SFX: RUNNING AWAY DOWNSTAIRS

PUNCH:                Mama say she bring the pain! Make guards hurt bad! She going to get all her Mole people friends! Dig under the Watt-Toe-Gah!

SFX: DOOR OPENS

JAKE:                     Moose, look…

MOOSE:               No, you look dude. We don’t have to like each other.

JAKE:                     That goes without saying.

MOOSE:               But we need all the firepower we can get. What are you any good with? Melee? Heavy weapons?

JAKE:                     I mean…I’m a diner chef.

MOOSE:               Jesus Christ dude. Look here.

JAKE:                     Perk cards?

MOOSE:               Yeah…that’s a set to geneti-magically turn your scrawny ghoul ass into a palm sweaty Commando stud build.

JAKE:                     Yeah let me just touch them…

MOOSE:               Nah dude! No time for that one card at a time genetic encoding crap. Eat em.

JAKE:                     What?

MOOSE:               Eat the deck.

PUNCH:                DUHHHHH NO BROMO!

JAKE:                     Ummm…okay.

SFX: CHEWING.

MOOSE:               There you go dude.

SFX: CHOKING.

JAKE:                     (coughing)

MOOSE:               Let’s go bro….swallow. We’re got places to go.

SFX: SWALLOW NOISE. HEARTBEAT INCREASE.

MOOSE:               You good?

SFX: RIFLE LOADED. CLIPPED.

JAKE:                     (suddenly you’re like Rambo) Good? I’ll never be good again…but neither will they. The pain train is rolling out of the station. Saddle up boys. Lock and load. SEMPER FI! HOOO RAH!

SFX: SHIRT RIPPED.

MOOSE:               Okay, but like….you can put your shirt back on bro.

SUSIE:                   (upset) Are they going to hurt him? We have to save him! We have to go get him!

MOOSE:               We will kid, don’t worry. Ol’ Moose has a trick up his sleeve. Let’s see how those Watoga gates stand up to our repaired Pick-R-Up Truck! Punch bro! You’re driving!

SFX: PIPBOY RADIO SWITCHES ON.

COMPUTER:       Please stand by for an important message from Vault-Tec. Thank you for your service to your country.

SFX: SWITCHES FLICKED.

MOOSE:               Uhhh….can’t turn my PipBoy radio off…

MEDIA: WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL COVER SONG PLAYS.

SUSIE:                   (cry of pain) No! Owwww….make it stop! Bad noise! (crying) Very bad noise!

MOOSE:               Kid? Susie? What’s wrong? What is….(cry of pain) AHHHH! MY HEAD! GET THIS THING OFF ME! PUNCH! GET IT OFF!

PUNCH:                What wrong? Pull off! Can’t get off!

JAKE:                     (moaning in agony) Suck it up soldier! We’re under….some kind of sonic attack! (crying out in pain) Is that all you got! BRING IT ON! (cry of pain) REMEMBER ANCHORAGE!

SUSIE:                   (crying in agony) It hurt! IT HURTS!

SFX: CROSSFADE BACK TO TOWER.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Look at that…absolutely beautiful, if a little messy. You used the resonant frequency to…

JUDGE:                 To shake their modified molecules apart, everyone, everywhere…all at once.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  To what end? They’ll just respawn.

JUDGE:                 Ah! That’s the interesting part. Somnus conditioning will allow us to…

COMPUTER:       Warning. Abnormal pattern received. Duplicate data detected. Lazarus Array standing by for instructions. Pattern is unidentified. Pattern is not on file.

JUDGE:                 What is that?

SFX: TYPING

FLETCHER:           This…shouldn’t be here. There’s someone in the buffer that is unregistered with the array.

JUDGE:                 Give me a pattern analysis.

FLETCHER:           It’s…coming up as Chad Johnson’s profile, but somehow he’s in here twice…no wait, it’s Chad and a little girl…no…a ghoul. That ghoul kid of his?

JUDGE:                 Susie? How the hell is that possible?

FLETCHER:           I’m not sure. We need to do something as the error has halted the program until it’s resolved.

JUDGE:                 Can she be registered with the array?

FLETCHER:           Not without losing other patterns in the buffer forcing it to switch functions.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Delete her.

JUDGE:                 What?

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Delete her. You said she’s a ghoul?

FLETCHER:           Yes, but she’s a kid.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  Not anymore. Purge it.

JUDGE:                 Come on Sinclair…Jesus that’s cold even for me.

CPT. SINCLAIR:  It wasn’t a suggestion.

FLETCHER:           Yes….sir.

JUDGE:                 Come on, let’s finish our dinner before it gets cold. And Fletcher, get some boys up here. We’re gonna need some mops.

SFX: INTERCOM PUSHED.

JUDGE:                 Conference Room Partition J5, deactivate.

SFX: WALL OPENS

CPT. SINCLAIR:  You were explaining about the next phase?

JUDGE:                 Oh, you’re going to love this…let’s look at the plan for the Sanctuary Acres facility.

FLETCHER:           (angry, but being quiet) Too far. Too fucking far. I’m not killing a kid…and this is not justice. This is something far worse that wears the cloak of justice and delivers fear and darkness.

SFX: KEYS TYPED.

COMPUTER:       Pattern isolated. Pattern contained. Executing transfer to QASmoke. Coordinates: 0,0. Lock. Pattern purged. Resuming program.

FLETCHER:           That’s the best I can do for you kid. Good luck in there.

SFX: HOWLING VOID. MATERIALIZATION.

SUSIE:                   (moaning, regaining consciousness) Where….where am I? Hello? Where is everybody?! CHAD! CHAAAAAAADDDD!

MEDIA: WONDERFUL WONDERFUL BUILDS BACK IN AND COMES TO A CRESCENDO.

KEN:                      Our story continues in Season 2, Episode 19, titled “Little Sanctuary of Horrors”