“I’m Crazy Rim and come on down to Crazy Rim’s Used Car Lot where our prices are CRRRRAZY!!! Are you tired of being a worthless virgin?! Wanna be swimming in DICKS!?! Wanna be pouting pusses left and right?! Well get your sweet ass over here and check out our amazing lineup of used cars and I guarantee you will get mad plot!!”

~unaired Crazy Rim’s Used Car Lot commercial

The sound of bullets hitting cement echoes throughout the classroom along with yelling, cursing, and screams. Each one of us flinched at every cacophony roaring outside.
Something is happening.
… raiders?
Steel Rangers??
Hellhounds?!
I and the other students cower away from the classroom’s exit. Crystalborne, the eldest among us ran to the teacher’s desk and started rummaging through it.

“Wh...what you do..ing?” one foal whimpered.
… at least I think they did.
Crystalborne opened his mouth to say something but it was muttered by a bloodcurdling scream from outside. Loud hoofsteps could be heard from the stairs outside the classroom. The other foals huddled together, shivering scared as the hoofsteps got louder and louder. Crystalborne let out a cheer as Miss Vandersquawk’s single-shot shotgun floated above him, wrapped in a glowing aura.
Why did she even had that in her desk anyway?

The other foals had built some courage and ran to the weapon’s locker sitting next to a pinned up drawing of a cheerful pink circle balancing on pink line legs with bright rainbow colored letters saying SWEET PEA. I felt quite proud of it, one of my greatest works.
...Probably.
Taking my eyes off the probably best drawing of the whole class, it gets bonus points for being done by mouth which takes more skill then using some fancy-mancy horn. I trotted over to the locker and unfortunately since I was the last one I got stuck with a bat, a bat with railroad nails hammered into it. I stare enviously at the foals levitating guns above their heads as I chewed on the bat.
Why couldn’t I be born a unicorn?
I blame the old bastard.

Don’t think about the gunshots.
I thought we didn’t have to deal with this.
Don’t think about the hoofsteps coming closer.
I thought Talon company was supposed to prevent stuff like this from happening.
Don't think about having your friends killed.
Think about your kickass drawing.
Don’t think about being killed by the raider climbing the stairs.
Think about that Swordmare comic you found in Stern’s office the other day.
Don't think about having to kill the raider.
Think about the flank bearing armored mare on its cover.

The armed foals positions themselves and aimed at the door. I moved to the back of the classroom.
Don’t want to be in the crossfire.
A magical aura wrapped around the door’s handle.
Stay back, let the possible raiders focus on the others.
The gunfire stopped as do the hoofsteps. Crystalborne pulled the door opened slowly revealing
...a foal?
No, she was a bit bigger than a foal. The mare had an automatic pistol hovering beside her. She's dressed in filthy rags emanating the smell of blood. She looked at us with a face full of shock. A dim green light emits from her foreleg.
It came from …
A pipbuck.

the stench of vomit and piss with a hint of blood filled my nostril as I came to. The dream of the heavily armed foals faded from my head as feeling returns to my body. My body ache and my stomach felt empty, but hey I guess I didn’t die. Felt like it though. I try to lift my head and felt it peeled off the wet floor.
Where am I?
I didn’t feel the heat of the sun, inside maybe? Maybe I should open my eyes and find out.
Oh hey, no sand!
Things are looking up.
I notice the pool of crimson with a bit vomit mixed in around me and from the wetness down south, I’d piss myself.
Yep... looking up…
I was lying on the floor of what looks like a convenience store, two rows of shelves sit in front of me cluttered with pre-war cans and crumpled bags of Chester’s cheese puffs. At the end of the shelves, a wall of broken fridges, filled with empty bottles of Sparkle-Cola and on top of the fridges hanged a poster with a voluptuous mare wearing a garter belt. The words Cider Jacks displayed above her.
Why do mares look sexier with more clothes on?
Priorities.

Loose debris from the ceiling rain down on me as the building shake against the raging wind outside.
Is that storm still going on?
How’d I got here anyway?
The sound of rusted cans clanging on the tile floor, catching my attention. A can once holding peaches and beans came bouncing from the disheveled shelves along with a… filly? A light blue foal with an orange bob cut trotted after the can. A little horn poking from her mane. After the poor old peaches and bean receive another kick, it’s assailant turn to me. Her golden eyes glare into mine then narrowed.

“Hey Blu, the stiff's awake!” she yelled with a tone of an annoyance. I become aware of some movement behind me. I tried to lift myself, only to drop to the ground again as my stomach lurched. I clenched my stomach and felt some moist cloth wrapped around it. Blood soaked bandage wrapped around my stomach, the feeling of Black Mama’s pincer punching through my hide is something I could do to forget. As I check myself, I notice I was naked; beside the bloody bandage of course. The red crescent jacket I was wearing was now gone and also to my horror, I may be many things...maybe. But I don't have to be a doctor to know that my hind leg wasn’t supposed to be bent that way.

“Oh fuck!” I rasped.

“Take it easy, pal.” a masculine voice called out from behind me and a hoof was place on my shoulder.

“Easy for you to say you're not lying in a pool of your own bloody vomit.” I rasped flatly. The unseen buck let out a chuckled.

“HA! It's better than being dead on the side of a desert road.” the foal at the end of the shelves let out a huff and a glare as her horn emits a golden glow. A familiar looking glass orb enveloped in the same glow floated out of the saddlebags that hung from her side.
My glass orb thing!
She places the orb in front of her and then she touches it with her horn to it as her horn emits another glow. Then she suddenly slumps to the tile floor. The building shakes as its constantly sandblast by storm winds.
Um is she alright?
I roll over to see a large elderly unicorn stallion searching through my makeshift bag. Bushy orange eyebrows hang above his stern eyes as he empties the contents of my poorly made bag.

“Useless, useless, and useless. How in Tartarus you manage to cross the Shifting Waste with this shit is beyond me.” he huffed.

“Shifting Waste?” I strain as I asked.

“You mean you cross the Shifting Waste without even knowing anything about it? Are you stupid or something?”

“Possibly brain damage,” I said under my breath. “Where is and what is the Shifting Waste?” the stallion fix me a skeptical glance as he levitated the bits and piece of the broken magical energy weapons back into the bag.

“Well, it's the large stretch of desert between the Badlands and Oasis. Just miles of sand. Must ponies wouldn't gone through the trouble of crossing it unless you’re NCR.”

“Oasis?” I throw him another puzzling glance and in return, he let out a sigh of exasperation.

“You a stable pony?” I give him a shrug of my shoulders, doing so sent a wave of pain over my body. “Stable pony tend to know nothing.”

“I can’t honestly say.” with another sigh, the stallion stops his inventory of my garbage and look at me with tired eyes.

“Oasis was some fancy resort city back before the bombs drop. You are currently on the outskirts of that city. Right outside the red light district and in the Motormane territory. "Heh!” the stallion chuckles with the shake of his balding head. “Shit, you sure picked a hell of a time to play tourist. Here some advice kid, leave this city. Go back to Equestria Proper ain’t nothing good here.” his eyes turn serious as look down at my broken form. “Only bad memories.”
well, that sounded ominous and weirdly unnecessarily poetic.
Hell, it was a little like my current situation. Not the lying on the floor in a pool of my own blood while some stranger causally robs me situation but waking up in a desert without an idea of who I am kind of situation. I fixed the dark blue buck with a contemplated stare, seeing that he took it an upon himself acquire my red crescent jacket. The worn white jacket seems a bit small for the buck.
You’re stretching it!
He’s wearing it on top of a layer of brown ragged clothes, a dark ragged rag wrapped around his neck.

I turn back to the unconscious foal then back at the stallion, well he doesn’t seem concerned about his little friend. I wonder what's their connection anyway?
His daughter?
His granddaughter?
His l...lover?!
The wasteland is a fucked up place, it wouldn’t surprise me. Probably the former since they kinda look the same. Just a bit different coat colors. I eyed the thieving stallion this time he notices it and he waves his hooves in a mock defensive way. “Hey now! What's with that look. I mean seeing how you would have been dead if we hadn’t found ya, these would make perfect compensation.” he said chuckle then looked down at the crappy sack full of junk. “Well, it would have if your stuff wasn’t such shit.” I saw the familiar pistol in a holster strapped around his foreleg. With a nod the stallion motion to the foal. “She's checking out that memory orb of yours seeing if its worth anything. Gauging from how she isn’t moaning I’m guessing it's not smut. Shame.”
Alright, maybe I wasn’t off from them being lovers or something. I kinda hope I was.
I think I'm gonna be sick, tried to push the thought of the old stallion’s comment out of mind and tried to focus on the other thing he said.

“Compensation? You’re robbing me! And what the fuck is a memory orb?” I growled. The stallion rose his hoof.

“Nah its compensation for saving you. You’re welcome!” the old fuck grinned at me. I tried to get up but stomach had other ideas. I clenched it as pained wheeze escaped my maw. “I take it you had a run-in with Black Mama, huh?” the unicorn stallion levitated my bag of junk onto his back.

“The freak Radscorpion? Yeah.” I pained.

“You’re lucky; most folks don’t survive through the paralysis!” the old stallion seems really excited now for some reason.

“Paralysis?” I don’t remember getting paralyzed but I guess it could have happened after I was knocked out.

“You see, I have this theory!” he was shaking a little as grinned down at me with wide eyes.
I made a mistake. I had open the floodgates. If I kept my mouth shut I would have been spared.

“Oh great you got him started” a childlike voice chimed in with snide tone. The unicorn foal had awoken from whatever the hell she was doing to my orb. She leaped over my prone body and join the overjoyed stallion who was practically foaming from the mouth at the idea of explaining his theory. Her horn lit up as her magic pulled a can of peaches and beans from her saddlebag. A knife levitated above her, it plunges into the can and with a pop it opens. I guess I would have smelt it if it wasn’t being overpowered by the smell of my bloody vomit. The foal began to use the knife as a spoon to shovel the can’s contents in her mouth while the elder stallion continues his lecture.

“I believe the radscorpions venom differ depending on its size.” I have a feeling that's wasn’t quite right but I wasn't going to say anything about it in fear of prolonging him. “I once come across a book explaining about these creatures called a tarantula and those tarantulae had venom that was weaker compared to its smaller cousin. I couldn’t make much out of that book since it was on fire.”
Wait what?

“The fucker nearly die trying to the read that stupid book!” the young foal cursing caught me off guard.

“But from what I could gather which wasn’t a lot, that smaller insects need to be more potent venom to survive while the larger ones don’t need to rely on it due to their size. So since Black Mama is the biggest radscorpion I figure her venom is not deadly as the smaller ones. the fact you’re still alive proves that! I mean we hadn’t even given you any antivenom but yet here you are! Talking to us and ever much alive!”
You what?
Is that the reason he saved me?
For a science experiment?!
And you're still going to rob me on top of that?!
Did he just sat around watching me piss myself to prove his conclusion?!?
Why was I just sprawling on the floor getting a lecture about entomology which was probably mute due to this guy being a fucking idiot! And plus all radscorpion are big, they don't need the venom to survive they could do well with just their pincers alone. hell, the venom just to put salt on the wound.

“Augh!” the foal audible said the word augh. “For the last time, your theory is shit! All radscorpions venom are deadly it just that Black Mama is a freak!”
She's right!
Your theory is shit!
And you’re shit!
after the outburst, the stallion who I take it that his name is Blu let out a sigh.

“Alright, Azure I hear ya. Just trying to indulge a bit...” Blu paused as his ears perked up. “You hear that?” the foal named Azure I guess ears perked up as well. I also try to hear whatever he was hearing, but all I could hear was nothing aside from monotone hum which could possibly be my imagination.

“I hear nothing.” Azure answers.

“that's right! The storm has passed!” Blu levitated more bags onto his back. “let's get out of here!” the stallion lifted the dirty rag that was tied around his neck over his muzzle.

“What about him?” Azure nods towards me and Blu with a click of his tongue, he magics out a syringe filled with dark gray substance. Azure’s mouth hang a gasped “YOU’RE WASTING THAT ON HIM!” the stallion hushed her as he kneels down placing the needle just outside the pool of vomit.

“This here will remedy those broken bones of yours” Blu said as Azure”s magical aura wrapped around the exit’s handle and open to the outside world. Bright streams of light flood the dim store along with a gust of warm air. “Alright, we leaving! Nice to meet you and all that!” Blu move to the doorway as Azure quickly put my memory orb thing in her saddlebag and drawn up her scarf to cover her muzzle. Blu turns back and cracks a smile at me as the shitty bag filled with pointless shit bounced on his back. “Seeya!”

“WAIT!!” I manage to cry out, having my inside tighten in response. The little filly joins Blu’s stare as I push myself from the blood stain floor. Pieces of my hair cling to it as it dried. “Where could I find the Baron?” the duo gives each other glances. The dark blue stallion let out a sigh.

“I guess you’re not going to listen to my advice about leaving this place, huh?” the old stallion stood and move his way to the doorway. “South of here. Pass the Motormane’s territory and just outside the red-light district, there's a settlement called Sandy Hill. you’ll know you're there from giant statues of the princesses. Goddesses be with them. The Baron runs that town. Just follow the road and you’ll be there. Down the road, you’ll come across a wall of busted cars and a giant sign saying Crazy Rim’s.”
Whats a car?

“Avoid it.” the foal stated as she merch out into the outside. The stallion watches her as she leaves, I noted that his eyes linger on her for a bit too long added some credence of him being a foalfiddler.

“And I would suggest you go no further than Sandy Hills. The deeper you go into the city more likely you’ll run into The Militia.” Blu said.

“The Militia?” I asked.

“Slavers in power armor. I have a feeling you don't want to go through that again.” as he said that, he tapped the side of his neck. I did so too and felt the carved 99.
Was I a slave?
Were all those slayed Red Crescent soldiers slave too?
“Well good luck to ya kid lets hope we never meet again!” and with that the stallion step into the blinding light of the outside. Leaving me alone among the opened cans and upturn shelves.

That was almost pleasant compared to my first interaction with somepony that I could remember. But now I have nothing. No gun. No glass orb thing. no bag of loose scrap. I reached for the syringe the stallion left behind. I look into the syringe's dark grey slushy contents. Should i really trust some stranger who rodded me by injecting myself with some strange fluid.
It might kill me, which really doesn’t matter I guess. I mean I have no memories or attachments so I guess it won't be that much of a problem if it kills me. That being said I prefer not to die. It's pretty much 50/50.

“FUCK IT!!” I scream throwing caution into the wind as I slam the needle in to my hind leg. Here's to hoping I don’t die. The thick gray slush push into my veins and felt it slither through them. Nausea flood my being as I felt my bones pop and move. I watch as my horribly bent leg crack and unbent. Something in my chest snap. After a sickening minute, the nausea disappeared and my body felt less broken then when I woke up. it was still a strain to get up, but at least i could. Whatever that stuff was it fix my broken legs and I think it also fix a couple of broken ribs. The bandage around my stomach fell to the ground. I checked the wound that Black Mama give me.
A reminder of our time together.
How sweet...
Bitch...

She left me a pink circle shape scar on my stomach above my bellybutton, it looked weird being surrounded by my piss colored hide. Some dried blood clang to it as I steadily walk over to a rack holding a bunch of pre-war magazines. I grab a couple using them to wipe the bloody chunks of vomit off me. While doing this, I glance at some the magazines articles. One had the header “HOOFINGTON RISES”, it was detailing how a lot of smart ponies from Oasis left to help Hoofington rebuild after some fire. Another had an advert of some gentlecolts club with a mare in skimpy attire beckoning the reader to visit their club located 39 south luxuria drive in the red-light district.
Keeping a mental note of that one.
Another had a strange four-wheel thing with pipes poking out of it's metal chassis. After managing what I could get off me, I started to search the store. Which led me to find nothing, which make sense since Blu and Azure probably were all over this place before I woke up. A lot of posters cover the walls, some faded beyond recognitions other had the pink ministry mare on it with her iconic creepy smile. One had Princess Luna tell whoever is looking a the poster to enlist.
Sorry princess but I’ll pass.

I step outside into the warm dry air, the heat of the sun hitting my hide, and the hot sand beneath my hooves.
Goddesses I hate this desert.
Outside the small store stood two large rectangle like box with glass spheres on top of them. I scan the area as I trotted over to them. Written on its side in faded letters it says:

FUEL PUMP #1

A tube had its one end attached to the box thing while the other was attached to what looks like a gun. To my disappointment it doesn’t do anything. Whatever it was before it's just a metal box thing with a bunch of dings and scratches now. I move away from the pump and turn to the road. The road despite the years of neglect was in somewhat good conditions. It was only partially buried by the sand. A signpost pointing to the north had a name of someplace but it was scratched out and was replaced with the word:

BEMOANING

the other sign pointing to the south had the name:

MOTORMANE’S

I keep finding that word “Motormane”, Blu mention it twice. Maybe I should have ask about that.
Oh well.
Blu said I’ll find the Baron whoever that is at Sandy Hills and Sandy Hills is just south down this road. Just need to avoid whoever these Motormane are.

So far here's my gameplan:
Step 1. Find the Baron
Step 2. Find my power armor
Step 3. ???
Step 4. Get my memory back or at least some idea of who I am.
Probably setting my hopes a bit too high, but I can’t worry about that now. I’m currently unarmed and armorless. With a sigh, I gallop south down the broken road.

------2 hours later------

Well for the first couple minutes the track was uneventful. Just a long stretch of sand and a crumbling road. Some billboards litter along the way; some toppled over, others had been adorn with graffiti like “limbus infantium” or “VANDAL TROTS” and one that was unspoiled by the ravages of time had a picture of a red hair unicorn mare with white coat glazing seductively out to the desert wasteland. Words in gold readed Crimson Flare. she's quite the looker and yet she has a nostalgic feel about her. Once upon a time ago according to this billboard she was going to perform live at some place called the Nebula Towers. Was going to share the stage with some other pony name Sweetie Belle; whoever that was. My peaceful walk came to a end with a roar of the wind. Looking behind me; I saw the fuel store thing get swallowed by a wall of sand and wind.

“FUCK!” not wanting a repeat of last time I galloped as fast as I can, which wasn’t a lot since I hadn’t eaten for goddesses know how long and also my legs only had been recently healed. Down the road gray buildings poke out of the sand. I just need to make it there! The storm howls as it drags itself across the desert floor, sending anything that gets caught in its windly grasp into its sandy vortex. My muscle strain with each step against the concrete. The nearest gray building had most of its window cover by what looks like a shutters, all except one and luckily that one is on the ground level. I gallop toward it feeling the pull of the storm. The storm deafens the wasteland natural ambiance. I felt the grains of sand scraped along my flank.
I try to outrun the wind. It went as well as anypony could expect. Sandy winds shredded my expose hide as it lift me up into the air. My flight was cut short as the wind throw me into the open window. Ok well, it wasn't open but the glass didn’t provide much resistance. Couple shards of glass impaled my flesh as I smack into the building's interior. The building groaned as the storm beats against it.
Out of the storm at least.

Now with my new holes I stagger to get up; missing that dead Followers of Apocalypse’s stash back in Black Mama’s death pit. The room was nearly buried in sand and more sand poured in due to the newly open window. The wallpaper of the room was peeled revealing its dark moldy insides. The melt-away ceiling tiles were collapse into the sandy floor almost resembling tombstones. I shook off the fragments of glass out of my mane and hide while I coughed out the sand that made it into my mouth do to the wind. Along the wall that I slam into had a door. I made my way to the door; holding my breath to prevent the sandy winds that pour into the room to get into my mouth. fortunately it wasn't locked as it open with a creaked into an oddly cool feeling hallway. It felt refreshing on my sunburnt hide. I would say my luck is looking up but I don't want to jinx it. I close the door behind me as I enter into the hallway. The sandy winds beat against the door. The air inside felt moldy and a bit dusty but compare to the sandstorm's wind it was heaven. Along the wallpaper peeled halls hang posters adorn with a cat hanging on a branch. Another had what look like a zebra surrounded by ponies in suits its tagline says:

Not all fights happen on the battlefield

Clipboards and pencil litter the hallway’s tile floor. Beside the roaring of the sandstorm outside a mechanical exhale could be heard off in the distance.

Shur-tsh!

The sound was followed by another. It was coming from down the hall. At the end of said hall was a particularly menacing looking portrait of a dark gray mare with a stern glare. A scar hangs under her left eye.

Shur-tsh!

The sound is getting louder as a shadow emerges in front of the portrait.

Shur-tsh!

Shur-tsh

A weird pill-shape machine waddles front of the portraits. It turns its body to face me, blue liquid slush around its glass dome head. It moves towards me wobbling back and forth.

Shur-tsh

Shur-tsh

Shur-tsh

I brace myself as the machine stops in front of me. Its speakers erupt to life as an over-enthusiastic voice calls out from it.

“Welcome employee [data corrupted]!”

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk: Little Leaguer-- +5[melee weapons, unarmed, or explosives] per rank

You had a dream of wielding a bat so that counts, right?

Author's Note