Fallout: Equestria - The Lunar Archives

Two things, firstly it turns out the main gate to Dr Zeeb's studio is on the west side, not the east. Second, I found Moko, or should I say he found me.

“Eyy how’d it go with dad babe?” the zony suddenly appeared behind me.

“Ahh!-..oh it's just you.” I sighed, feeling the disappointment of not being startled creeping in. “wait a second… Moko! The fuck was that!?” I asked pointing a hoof back at the now-closed gates. Who knew pre-war tour buses made good gates if you plated them up and kept the wheels working? I do now!

“Uhh… what was what?” he looked back and forth between me and the gate. “The bus? Yeah, it's just a big auto-wagon babe.”

I facehoofed. “Why did you bail on me when your dad showed up?!”

He shrank. “I uhh…” he scratched his mane unable to look directly at me. “I mean you seemed to handle it pretty well. Like, you're still alive babe, that’s more than I can say about the other broads dad hates… which is a lot, but I knew you could handle it.” He gave me a patronizing pat and I just kept glaring up at him.

“Don’t pet me…” now if only I could animate my eyes to put little daggers in him. The tiny princesses were trying at least.

The hoof slowly withdrew and an awkward silence ensued. “...and he seemed like he was about to yell at me so…” he glanced around. “Are we…”

I groaned louder barely containing my grump. “Yes, we're still going to the club.”

“WOO!!” He cheered starting to trot down the street without me. “Gonna get fucked uuup!~” stopping only to take another hit of the inhaler and cough a cloud of red. “Oh fuuuuck~ I hope Asadan has some new girls.” she shivered as whatever he just huffed coursed through his system and he bolted. “Let's gooo!! I wanna break something!”

“Hey! Get back here! You’re supposed to be leading ME there you big dicked asshole!!” I can't believe this was my day, he's supposed to be leading me there, not making me exercise!

At least this mad-zony was easy to follow, not because he slowed down, but because he kept getting distracted. Smashing his face into a broken window and pretending he was a unicorn with the glass shard sticking out of his forehead for example. The first time was worrying, but then I remembered Moko was some kind of perpetual like in the comics- “Luna damn it! I forgot to ask Dr. Zeeb why Moko is mare-fucking immortal! I was too busy having guns pointed at me to remember! Ughh!!” I lamented pulling at my mane. Sadly I couldn’t voice my frustrations for long due to needing to keep up with my ‘guide’. “How far is the place anyways?”

Surprisingly Moko stopped long enough to look back. “Oh hey babe, when did you get here? Aint seen you since the party at the hotel- wait wait.. No… “ he rubbed his temples. “Oh yeah, Retchy, what uuuup? Still working that fuckdorable nerd getup I see.”

I’m gonna hit him… one day… very softly… with a wiffle bat maybe, my discontent will be known regardless of its mode of delivery! “Focus Moko, we were going to some club you keep talking about. Where the flying fuck a duck is it?”

“The club…” he pondered taking another hit from the inhaler before tossing it aside. “Oh Pshh.. there's only one real club in Applewood babe. We gotta hit Club Street out on north-west…ish… side. Busses are fucked so we gotta walk, but trust me it's gonna be sooo worth it.” he assured me nodding along. “Stars what I’d give to relive my first visit to the House of Chrysalis one more time. Might even swear off Dash… or at least lay off the med-x for a while.” he shrugged. “But nah, Club Street’s got the best shit in town babe. You ain't doing Club Street justice unless you leave there some kind of fucked up.”

Maybe I’ll hit him with something harder than a wiffle bat…. Like a twig, or a sock full of caps. “Moko… you’re telling me literally everything BUT where the club is. Like what actual street it’s on? A quarter of all Applewood is on the ‘north-west side’. You know how little that narrows it down?”

“It’s on.. Uhhh…. Club…Street? I dunno, I don't read the signs. I just point and laugh when wasted ponies walk into them.”

Worst… tour guide… ever. But he was the best distraction ever! The whole walk west-ish he’d been loud as hell, knocking things over, breaking glass, and generally being a nuisance. But I guess being mysteriously immortal really shoots you in the hoof on the self-preservation instincts. Oh, I'd hate to be a perpetual forever regenerating in some predator's den… speaking of which.

Globs with wings, that’s the best way I could describe what came flying from the nearby ruins. Fugly, boated, and dripping sickly green ichor from every crevice of its jiggly body. “What the actual fuck!?” I gestured to the flying blobs roughly the size of a sprite-bot. “Wait a second…”

[[INT10]] “They look like sprite bots because they are sprite bots!... I mean sprites! I said sprites the first time! Nopony can say otherwise!” I pointed out to the tiny princesses sitting on the pavement shaking their heads.

I didn't know a ‘buzz’ could sound wet, deep, or fat, but there it was, assaulting my ears. A trio of bloated sprites hovered their way toward Moko, somehow struggling to stay in the air, yet zipping around all over the place. Gross fact number 2: Bloat sprites spit! And judging by the maggot things oozing their way down the wall next to a panicking Moko, they spit their young as a hunting mechanism- Oh right gotta save Moko. But do I have to if he’s immortal?...yes…yes I do.

I quickly swapped the archive I totally hadn't been doodling in, for my flintlock. “Tell them to hold still Moko!” I called out trying to take aim but the sprite's flight paths were as random as my cone of fire.

Moko, to his credit, was busy running around in circles as the bloat sprites kept spitting at him. “Asking them nicely Doesn’t work! I tried! I think they want my dash!”

I facehoofed. “No, they clearly want your skin!” I fired, cracking the air with a thunderous red beam and…missed. While I certainly put a molten hole in a stop sign and the building behind it, the bloat sprites were unharmed…and turned toward me. “Uh oh…”

I dove behind the remains of a concrete barrier some ancient had left in the street dodging the green splatter. “Gross, gross, gross!” I cranked the flintlock, peeked, and fired as fast as I could while the sprites bobbed around. “I said hold still!! Wreee!!”

Moko seemed to have a better idea, slowly creeping up behind the sprites with a pipe. Where he got the pipe I don't know, I’m not that kind of pipe expert. But now I had to try not to hit him!

“Wreeee!!” I fired, over and over, devolving into a cycle of fire, duck the spit, reload, and repeat. Stationary people were hard enough to hit with this thing, but with these bugs randomly bobbing around each shot was VERY annoying.

Cracked as he was, Moko pounced a sprite from behind bringing a pipe down on it between his hooves. The bloat-sprite broke in an instant, crashing to the ground and deflating like a balloon full of puss… eww. “Actors bitch!” he cheered hitting the corpse a few more times.

Ding! Tiny Celestia appeared above my head with a little lightbulb. Hitting them in melee was a lot easier, just swing wildly! I whipped out my Candelabra in all its golden and mildly dented glory! “Hello, beautiful~” I gave the impromptu golden mace an affection stroke until I saw the princesses deadpanning at me. “What? Don’t judge me!”

Moko was getting swarmed again and that served as the perfect opportunity to-”Wreeee!!!” I charged. I was gonna beat these things to death and beat them to death I shall. Just don't get spit on.

I rapidly learned that bloat-sprites can spit pretty fast, and their spawn bite! “Ow ow ow! I rolled trying to brush the stinging grubs off me. “Just fucking great! Now I need a tetanus shot!” the nibbled spots bleeding faintly but otherwise, I wasn't missing any chunks. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find tetanus shots after 200 years of nuclear war?!” Technically the ‘war’ only lasted a day, but upset Sketchy was upset. I charged.

My candelabra smacked into the side of the nearest bloat-spite like a rotten pinata. Deforming, wobbling, and eventually exploding into a cone of goo splattering across the street. “Huh.. that felt kinda good.” I looked at my now dirty candelabra and the last bloat-spirte, a small grin curling into my cheeks. “Kinda fun too…” Sweet sweet dopamine, how hath I missed thee.

Sketchy pounce! Sketchy swing! Sketchy scores!! Bringing the candelabra down atop the bloat sprite is splattered across the road like a pancake. A gooy green pancake I’d never eat but a pancake nonetheless. “Oh yeah, two fer two! Where’s the next one?” I looked around eagerly seeking my next target only to remember there had only been three of them. “Aww damn it… I was having fun for once.” I groaned.

My slow decline into insanity aside, Moko came over tossing the pipe aside. “Oh hey Catchy, That was awesome. You were all like wham, and it was all like splat and- uhh…” he scratched his head. “What were we…oh yeah the club! This way!” he pointed and marched on.

“It’s Sketchy…” I grumbled behind him, stashing the candelabra.
—

Club Street, it's all in the name. The epicenter of all Applewood's more, ‘intense’ entertainment. A bastion of pre-war Los Pegasus wrapped in sheet metal, chem-addicts, and guns. Flashing lights and cantankerous cheering spilled over the walls advertising the ‘good times’ that lie within. An escape from the wasteland, no matter what it might cost. A den of iniquity grown into a full-blown town.

The streets leading up to the gates were cleared of debris, but as the evening sun fell the stark contrast between the buildings within and without became apparent. Out here, everything looked thoroughly combed over by scavengers, now packed with the destitute, desperate, and the damned. Rag-clad ponies huddled around trash fires, laid limply on soiled mattresses, or followed our path with predatory eyes. Needles and spent inhalers littered the sidewalks while the pavement leading to the gate was kept clear. Dirty bandages, empty cans, and raggedy foals chasing a radroach around with makeshift spears. This was nothing like Bubble Town, and nigh the polar opposite of the Hotel Coltifornia.

The desperate and discarded gathered as we approached the gate, but the guards were quick to shoo them off. “Git outta here ya fuckin’ low lifes, the prince is passin’ through. Mind yer fuckin’ manners.” one brown stallion barked, leveling his gun at the growing crowd. Many slunk back to the ruins but a few kept crawling forth.

A pale blue stallion with his ribs showing, he was the first unfortunate soul to open his mouth. “Please, surely the prince can-” Silenced by the sudden butt of a gun being smashed across his face.

“I said back your shit up! All ah yous!” he barked louder as more fled.

Yes reader, I was appalled, Moko however simply marched on as if they weren’t even there. Lost in one of his ‘Moko keeps on movin’ numbers. I felt dirty, and not just from the sprite goo. All the eyes on me, watching me follow this poser prince, low voices muttering to each other. I could imagine what they were saying as we approached the gate. I winced seeing the one beggar get whacked with the butt of the gun. I had to muster the social willpower to say something, what kind of mare would I be if I didn’t? I had some food I could spare. “Hey, I can give them something if-”

I froze, as the tip of the stallion’s barrel lit up the street in a rip of gunfire. Four seconds of ‘Brrrrrt!’ feeling both instant and an eternity. Bullets sprayed into the remaining crowd, dropping ponies to the pavement while the rest ran for their lives. The blue one, who had simply raised his hoof after getting knocked down, had five new holes along his back.

Silence was all I had to offer and plenty of it fell over the street. I didn’t know what to say. Is that what it looked like when I mowed down those raiders? No, they were armed, they were threatening us. These ponies didn’t need to die just to clear a street. I couldn't speak, but my legs subconsciously went on, set on keeping close to Moko.

“Your majesty~” The other guard gave a nod and allowed us to pass just like that. The gate rattled open, sheet metal on a wheeled segment of chain-link fence. The plethora of colored lights spilled into the street so bright it was like a portal had opened. Lights, noise, distractions, and the hustle of a crowded settlement just like Bubble Town.

I looked back over my shoulder one last time to see some scavengers dragging away the bodies. Possibly of their family, most likely their peers, at worst their next meal. And just like the doors Stable-door of 83, the gate closed behind me, severing me from the world I was just in. “I uhh… Did I just witness a mass murder because they wanted to ask for food? Why… why am I not freaking the fuck out?...Moko?... Moko!” He’d already started to wander off so one quick grab and yoink got him back. “Listen to me when I'm having an existential crisis!”

Moko blinked. “What? Couldn’t hear ya babe. Think all these chems are starting to make me go blind.”

“I…you.. What?!” Please hold while Shetchy.exe has a mild aneurysm.

“Oh Hey, we're here! And the sun is still up, we made great time. I think…” He looked down at his hoof/wrist. “I really need a watch… I was considering getting a pip-buck but I think somepony said it might explode if it detected a zony was wearing it. And I don't want my legs blown off…I have great legs.”

“Moko…” I squinted holding his head between my hooves. “Are you cursed or something? Ever since I met you the value I put into pony life has been plummeting fast enough to burn up on re-entry. I just watched half a dozen ponies get mowed down in the street and all I could of is ‘well that guy’s a dick!’” I shook him a little. “I should be losing my shit, I should have killed that guy, I should have…had any kind of reaction.”

Moko reached up and gently lowered my hooves off his face. “Nah babe, I’m just dangerously close to sober. And to me it sounds like you are stressing the fuck out. Relaaaax babe, some dead junkies ain’t the end of the world.. Again.”

“Buh…whuh…how ah. Make it come back! Last week It felt like the end of everything when I killed somepony in self-defence. Why can’t I feel jack shit now?! Why is the feeling so dull? Make it come back!” Did I sound desperate? Maybe a little… But the feeling of remorse was just a ghost of its former self. I needed to know why!

Despite my concern, a big smile crossed the stallion's face. “Oh babe say less, I know exactly what you need.”

“Wh-whats that?”

“You babe, need the ride of your bucking life! There’s this club I’m heading to right? The one that looks like a fucking tree. Well they got this awesome special they do for their regulars. And I just so happen to be one of the loyalest of customers.” he said hoof to chest oozing pride in his choice of venue. “You may be feeling bummed, but I guarantee this will send you to the bucking moon and remind you why life is so good, guaranteed.” he shook his head self-assured.

“Umm… dare I ask what is in said special?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, cinnamon? Paprika?.. A few other stripper name ingredients, I dunno. But I can guarantee it'll change your worldview.” He looked to be doing some kind of mental math for a moment, mumbling. “Carry the five… cover that loan from jerry-can.. Divide by…” something clicked. “How bout this, I’ll run ahead to the club and tell them to start getting it ready for you and you hang out here, catch your breath, chill, maybe even do a little shopping, then catch up with me at the club. Cool?”

“Yeah, you run ahead and- HOLD IT!!” He had already started to walk away when I grabbed and reeled him back again. “Hold still.”

“Yo~ hold still for what babe?”

“Just gimmie a second.” I grabbed a 200-year-old receipt off the ground and scribbled a note on it. Once done I booped it to his chest and by the holy seal of a tiny piece of tape kept it there.

‘Dear reader/bouncer, This stallion(Moko/prince) has a +1 with him and keeps wandering off. If he goes into your establishment take this note and know he has agreed to pay any and all fees, tabs, and damages for one ‘Sketchy’. Grey coat, orange-ish mane, pencil and charcoal cutie mark. Please let me in cause this forgetful *eraser marks* guy will go in without me and not say anything.’

“Perfect~” I nodded sagely, giving the note a few pats to make sure it stuck.

“Is this a note?” He looked down at it. “What's it say?”

“Uhhh… Hey look! Some dealer just spilled his stash all over the street!”

He gasped spinning around. “Freebies!! Where?!” He cheered sprinting off into the sea of lights, and ponies.

Now I was alone, free to explore the new town at my leisure, without Moko getting all the details mixed up. On the upside, I didn't ‘feel’ in danger, On the downside I was alone. If I just keep my eyes on my EFS for red blips I should be fine. I needn’t worry about being tempted by hookers and blow either.. cause I'm broke… and looking around.. There was ALOT of hookers and blow. I was more expecting blackjack(not that blackjack) and hookers but then I remembered something about all the ‘real’ gambling was in New-Pegas, not here.

Twas now I could properly take in my surroundings. Club Street was exactly as advertised, an entire town built around one street. Well, it was more than one street but ‘Club Street’ proper seemed to be their ‘main street’. Three walled-off city blocks packed to the brim with semi-restored buildings, shops, and venues of all shapes and sizes. The streets had been cleared of debris, making plenty of room for drunken ponies to stumble bar to brothel. Ponies of the night lined the corners, crowds cheered for blood around rebar arenas, and every store was open.

When I say(write) every store is open, I also mean they have every kind of store. Sure 83 had the commissary, the cafe, and the speakeasy but those were just shallow reflections of what a proper economy looked like. I give the locals a ‘B+’ for naming conventions. They had stores for everything. ‘Club street clubs’ sold, you guessed it, melee weapons. ‘The Gunshow’, ’Azzy’s Ass Blasters’, and ‘Gatling Gutters’ were all gun stores. ‘Beans by any means’ sold canned food…you get the idea.

But most importantly- “Good Goddesses a Kaboob stand!” I nearly squeed spotting the burn-barrel food-cart combo with a tree's worth of meat-covered sticks sizzling over a trash fire. Sketchy wasn’t drooling, Reader was drooling! I took the first step towards it when I realized. “Shit! I’m poor…” The tiny princesses turned out the pockets that manifested on their flanks for effect.

“You and me bocth…” slurred a voice on the sidewalk next to me.

“Ahh!” I jumped/flinched.. Bravely, only to see a brown earth stallion slumped against a pre-war liquor store that was… still a liquor store. He barely held a half-empty bottle to his side. “Uhh… hi? I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeaaash figures. Life ishit like that.” he sighed, bloodshot eyes looking down dejected.

I bit my lip trying to think of a proper way to respond, but Dad’s book didn't have a chapter on talking to drunk ponies you didn't need anything from. “Are you…okay?” I asked scratching my mane.

“Do I look buhking okay?” He huffed struggling to slide himself further up the wall he leaned on.

“Tooshay… maybe a better question is ‘why aren't you okay? Do you need like.. Help? Caps? A glass of water?...” I tried again, trying to get some good karma in after the gate incident.

“Sure, Uhh.. I could use help…”

“Perfect! What do you need?” Good deed inbound!

“Okay, now listen carefully, I need you to…hic..” he swayed. “Oh fuck it, I can't even keep the punchline straight. Shoo got a way to go back in time or not?”

Good deed faltering. “Yeah I-...Back in time?”

“Yeah, back to before I ever came to this SHITHOLE!!” he yelled yet his cry was drowned out in the ambient noise. “It was just a deck of c-cards.” he sniffed “One hand became two, became four, became four-hundred. It's not fair!”

I was getting a good mental image of what happened to this guy, and I felt bad for him but… “Why didn’t you stop?”

“I couldn’t stop, I can’t stop. Just one more hand and I’d win it all back.” he took another swig. “They took it all! My caps, my crops, my cattle, my farm, my wife, my kids..” He clinched the bottle tighter and began to weep, slumping to the ground on his side. “My Everything…And now Asadan’s loan sharks want my hide too. Going to take all that’s left of Peat-Pile and sell me off as a nameless Actor prop.”

It’s none of my business but I.. Must be.. good pony! AHHH!! “So uhh.. I’m gonna guess you’ve got nowhere to go right?”

One eye opened weakly to look up at me. “Ya zon’t gotta rub it in…” Good enough!

“So there's this neighborhood of sorts on the east side of Applewood. Kinda new, If you can make it there I’m sure they’ll let you stay.”

“And why would they do shat? I got nothing to offer, I’m a capless nobody. Another roob that lost everything to this sick schity. Woo~ look at all the pretty lights and games and girls and drugs and BAM!! They suck you dry.” he weakly slammed one hoof into another, knocking himself over in the process. ‘Pretty floor…” he groaned.

“I’ll just…yeah… I think we can help you rescue your wife and kids later. Just umm…” I hovered over another piece of scrap paper.

“Rescue?..” he slurred into the floor. “What rescue? Sheee left with the kids to stay with her parents in Good….springs…Zzz….” he was out.

“Goddess bucking damn it, that’s not as bad but family counseling is PJs department… I think.” I grumbled to myself not having the skills to solve this one stallion in particular’s problem. I scribbled directions to the neighborhood down and stuck it on him. “You’ll sober up eventually.”

Boop~

My tour resumed with a lot of looking but not a lot of touching when you’re as destitute as I. But one should never be ashamed of being poor! Is something anypony as poor as me would say. Cause I’m pretty sure I'd be going nuts in here if I still had those 600 caps. That's like… enough for 3 whole kaboobs! I think… I never stuck the kaboob in my bag to get the price off my pipbuck. ‘I shall embrace my poorness! Be molded by it! Empowered by it!’ I thought while wearing more clothes, toting more weapons, holding more crap in my bags, and having more pipbucks equipt than everypony else in town. Poor I say!!

Random Thought: Name my kid ‘Righteous Indignation’ That way they’re practically guaranteed to be some kind of buff pony helping goody four shoes. Oh, how the named occupation theory turns out to be so accurate sometimes. I mean, my parents screwed me out of being named ‘Divine-Smite!’ The least I could do is name my kid something cool… or maybe ‘Sue’ so they grow up to be a lawyer. Sadly no kids until I find a special somepony desperate enough to like me… Aww, I made myself sad.

The tiny princesses waved at me from the open pages of the archive floating in front of me. When did I even take this out? I’m getting so used to drawing and recording things I just do it subconsciously now I guess. The doodle of a massive male alicorn with a great personality and a mare-splitting erection was very important for my…research…yeah. Page Flip~

Peddlers, peddlers for days, Peddlers for weeks, and Peddlers for months. The back streets were packed to whatever gills were with ponies trying to hawk wares to drunken visitors. Most were selling some ‘fresh’ and ‘new’ take on chems, some sold junk, and one guy was even selling empty sparkle-cola bottles claiming they held ghosts. I'd seen too many real ones to fall for that scam. I don't care if the bottle screamed when I opened it, I’m not getting wrapped up in zebra voodoo!

Four types of ponies roamed the curbs of ‘club street’. The guards, patrolling and mingling like they owned the place, I mean they did but that's aside the point. The entertainers, ponies slinging vices to anypony with the caps. The users/customers, the ponies ranging from raiders to pre-war suits spending a night on the town. And lastly, the broken, Not as destitute as the ponies living outside the walls, but pretty close. Huddled in corners around trash fires, wearing rags if anything at all, and rattling cans at passersby begging for alms.

“Spare a cap for an old mare, young missy?” Spoke one elderly mare, her mane having gone white with age, her pale yellow pelt wrinkled, and a sign next to her that read ‘caps?’. She had bags under her eyes, and on her flank were tombstones for a cutiemark.

“Ah!” I jumped, having been yanked from my in-depth focus on the archive I was supposed to be filling. “Oh uhh… well this is super awkward, but I’m..broke.” I scratched my mane, feeling like I was getting bucked right in the stable-mare privilege. “Not that I wouldn’t give you like a hundred, but I just figured out caps were a thing like.. A week ago.”

“Oh that's alright dearie, I should have figured when I saw the suit.” She smiled, sadly. “Stable mares are usually too busy killing or getting killed to notice an old mare like me. I’m surprised you didn't keep walking.”

Ahh!, she got me again! Right in my squishy guilt bits! Why is it always a buck to the squishy guilt bits?! “I have food if that helps. I don't know why the other stable ponies wouldn't notice y- There are other stable ponies up here?!” I gasped. I’m not alone?! Okay, that sounded a bit self-centered after everypony I've met so far, but you know what I mean reader!

“Plenty of ‘em back home. Always had something going on, running off on some adventure, or adapting very piss poorly to the wasteland.”

Other stables! Eeee!!! I had to know where to find them. “If you don't mind me asking, where are you from ma’am?”

“Oh my, has my complexion already gone so bad mares call me Ma’am now?” She chuckled.

Accidental insult! Panic! AHHH!! “What? Nooooo, you look great! What are you uhh.. 30? 29?” Sheepish smile came forth to save the day. And it only got more depressed chuckles from the destitute granny.

“I’m from Detrot Sweetie. I came here when I was just 18 chasing a dream, so any information I have on others like you might be a few years out of date.”

Damn, granny was a heavy hitter, now she was jabbing me in the curiosity. “Chasing a dream? That's the most positive-sounding thing I heard all week! What dream?” Fresh archive page: Activate!!

It was like a light flickered in her eyes, bringing back memories of when the future was bright. “Back home my village had an old pre-war projector and every night we’d watch movies we scavenged from a nearby theater. I loved those movies, even the credits, I was in awe of all those mares from so long ago who became famous simply by being somepony else. The passion, the glitz, the glam, the fame, I wanted it all. To be able to forget myself in a role and be lauded for my skills after.” she sighed looking down to the pavement. “So I chased the silver screen to Applewood like so many others in this town.”

“So far so inspirational. But.. how did you end up..like this?” I asked trying not to offend, or sound judgemental.

“Simple, I found the stallion who’s been single-hoofedly bringing the old-world movie industry back to life. Dr Zeeb. He’s… passionate about his work to put it kindly.”

“Yeah, I've met the guy. Passionate is one word for it…”

“Then you know he’s a perfectionist when it comes to his films. But that didn’t scare me. For years I auditioned whenever he put out the call for a role, any role. Some weeks I was an extra, others I helped on the camera crew. Until one day I was given a role, a real role! My dream was finally coming true. I was to be the main damsel in distress for ‘Wasteland Wanderer VS DR Zeeb and the Moonpony Empire 4.’ Madame Charlavine~ ”

Holy shit, being bad at titles isn’t just a me thing! “So far things still sound good. Other than him starring in his own movies somehow.”

“I was successful…once. The movie was a hit with the locals, a real 8 out of 10. But I felt like an 11! At least until I met this zony at the afterparty. I was young, nieve, stupid, and he was a strapping young beast of a buck. A devil. I'd seen him around the studio, flirting with the other actresses, and arguing with the director, he seemed important. And when his attention fell on me I felt special. He used every line I'd heard him use on the other girls in the studio, but when he said them to me… it felt different, it felt real. He worked me over with honeyed words I knew were fake but.. I didn’t care.” she took a moment to sniff and wipe her nose on her wrists and rub her eye. “I thought, maybe I was special, because I wasn’t like the other mares he was plowing. So when he offered me a tray of white dust at the party and said we’d have an amazing time, I caved instantly.”

“Oh….Ohhhh…” my ears went flat, wincing as the high rise of a success story took a sudden plunge right before the climax. This zony sounded familiar, but that's way too old to be Moko given this was like.. 50-60 years ago. Maybe his grandpa? Was DR Zeeb patroning a lineage of playmare zonys as some kind of pet project? Maybe he was trying to selectively breed some kind of super actor? Focus Sketchy! Cool old lady is talking!

“I’ll never forget the feeling, I can NEVER forget the feeling. I’d never felt more alive…And I’ve never felt that alive since. No matter what I took or how much I tried, nothing could make me feel like that again. It tore my life apart. The director was done with me the instant I turned into a junkie… and now all these years later, I sleep on Sunset Boulevard.”

“Okay, so you made one mistake, trying mystery drugs one time shouldn't haunt you forever. You were young, dumb, and unbearably attractive, like me! You're supposed to experiment with all this stuff and learn first-hoof that it isn't for you.”

She sighed but smiled all the same. “You sound like my mother, little missie. So supportive and accepting but… I think she failed to realize that sentiment only holds water when the youngin’ has their parents around to save them when they fall. Mine were over 2000 miles away.”

I continued to wince inward, the longer I thought about it the more I thought about Dad. I was in the same-ish situation as this mare. The only pony in the whole world that would care deeply enough to save me no matter what was back in 83. Could be 5 miles, could be 5000 for all it mattered with the door sealed. I could be standing right in front of the door for all the good it would do me. “Do you… need a place to stay?” It was all I had to offer that would matter.

“What do you mean dearie?”

“I mean…away from all this?” I gestured loosely at the surrounding circus of violence and debauchery. “It’s still in Applewood, but… we have food, and nopony there wants to kill you.”

“You’d take in a withered old junkie like me? It's not like I can do physical labor anymore.”

“Oh please, everypony is good at something no matter the age. The goddesses gave us cutiemarks as poof of that~ Like yours!” I pointed at the two tombstones on her flank. “Just cause you got old, doesn’t mean my wild assumptions of you secretly being a badass are wrong.”

She looked back at her own mark. “Oh that? That's what convinced me to take up a career in acting to begin with.”

I blinked. “It did what?...”

“I was really good at making Nightmare Night costumes. Being good at playing dead was useful too. Certainly saved my hide dozens of times.”

“See? Useful! You can teach other ponies how to not get eaten.” I beamed gesturing a hoof between her mark and a metaphysical representation of ‘others’ next to me. “Just imagine all the ponies you could help standing next to me.” I clarified circling the air. “Come teach a bunch of wasteland noobs how to not get killed.”

“You’re serious aren't you lil missy? It’s not everyday somepony comes around offering genuine help. It's mostly everypony for themselves in the wasteland.”

“We’ll Im not most of the wasteland now am I?” Le gasp! A moment of saint Applejacky pride, bless mah hert! “And from what I hear it's us horribly nieve stable dwellers handing out 90% of that rare and elusive help you’re talking about.”

“Alright I’m onboard, but I hope you know the can ah worms yer opening dearie. There are reasons not everypony extends a hoof to every junkie they see on the street.”

“Pfffff Pshaw I say! That's a problem for future me to figure out. I’m sure it’ll be fiiine~” I said before giving the old mare directions to the Neighborhood and parting ways. To cut it short this happened about 8 more times before I found my way to the club. Moko didn’t come back for me as expected, but I did get to meet a colorful array of down-on-their-luck ponies. Who knew recruiting the poor with promises of food and shelter was so easy!

—

The Club… The heart of Club-Street’s whole operation was certainly..unique. I stood out front gazing up at the ‘unique’ building with its neon signs, flashing lights…and branches. ‘Why was Club-Street’s club a giant ass tree?’ I might ask. Cause clearly a building this important is too special to just be a restored casino. Noo that would be too basic, but a giant 7-something-story tall dead tree with windows and power lines? Yeah, that's special enough! And then I thought ‘why not?’ and that answers all the questions now doesn’t it?

“The House of Chrysalis” I read the neon sign aloud, totally not staring at the kinda hot neon outline of a grey, green, and teal mare reclining provocatively behind the sign. “Of course they named it after a demon…” I sighed to myself. “But I was invited so it's okay!” reinvigorated by my recent acts of charity I got in line and waited to get up to the bouncers. And waited…and waited….and waited… Im gonna scream… im gonna scream….I’m gonna sc- “Sweet fuck will you guys hurry the fuck-” [Patience: 1]

“You can go in.” said the suited mare infront of me.

“Scuse me?..” I meeped much MUCH quieter now.

“Yer the skrunkly lookin' mare from the note right?” She asked picking up a receipt off a nearby podium. “Grey, orange mane, pencil n shit on yah’ ass?”

“Yeah that's me…He totally forgot me didn't he?” I drooped.

“The prince would forget his head if it weren't attached, first time I seen anypony stamp a note on him though. Neat idea~ Head on in, check your weapons and anything else you want stored with the guy at the lockers. And remember, just because yer hammered doesn't mean we won't hammer yous.”

“I figured…” I added adjusting my glasses knowing this mare couldn't begin to grasp the irony about Moko losing his head.

“Yeah yeah, get in there new girl, have fun, and welcome to Club Steet.” They opened the door for me on the way in only for me to get smacked upside the snoot with a soup of smells and beaten in the ears with thumping music.

The club's interior was structured like a hollowed-out tree, with a central shaft of open-air ringed by windows to rooms on the other floors. Bases were bumpin’, ponies were jumpin’, gathered from all over the world to hear those speaker pumpin’. The only lights were the flashing ones, and colored ones spilling down from the windows to the rooms above. Smoking, head banging, drinking, strippers, blackjack(not that one), and hookers. This place was an absolute freak show.. And I was discovering just how much I loved the circus. “Holy shit they got bonfires that burn different colors to the music, this is awesome! Is that a fucking trapeze act?!” I gaped watching a mare spinning on a rope between two 3rd story windows leaving a trail of red smoke in her wake.

The only ‘normal’ light was from a little barred window below a ‘check weapons’ sign. A lone brown stallion surrounded by lockers sat inside looking bored. He had ear muffs on and silently slid me a little ticket. Name, date, checked items.

“Uh-huh, yea, sure…” I mumbled completely distracted by the show as I filled out the ticket putting my flintlock, candelabra, and Flower-Power on the counter.

He gave me a slow blink, slid the items and the ticket to himself, and slid back a little wristband with ‘83’ on it that glowed in the club's ultra-violet light. He pointed at it, then at my suit, then at the locker behind him that also said 83. Many of the other ponies had these wristbands too, a Neat extra layer of identification.

“Coool it glows!” my priorities were in order… as I put the band around the hoof opposite my pipbuck. “Hey have you seen the prince anywhere? He was supposed to come in with me!” I had to practically yell to feel like I was heard over the music.

He gave me the world's least enthused blink and shrug before he went back to playing Striped-Menace on his terminal.

“Really helpful…” I muttered looking back to the club. “Now if I was a big, super noticeable zony with no self-control, an insatiable libido, and had the memory span of a deep-fried tato where would I be?..”

I scanned the dance floor, I scanned the bar, I scanned the stripper poles… thoroughly, but no sign of Moko. “Where the fuck a duck is he?” I asked not only myself but also the tiny princesses on the ground next to me… wearing tiny gold chains, backward caps, tank-tops, and glow rings, the works… AKA too busy raving to notice me. “Damn, even the manifestations of my mild insanity and loneliness can’t help. There’s only one thing to do!-”

“Eyy Sketchy!! I didn't know you came here!” Said a sudden Moko voice from behind me.

“Ahh!!” I flailed majestically. “Will you quit doing that?! You’re shaving years off my life every time you startle me like that man!” Great! Now he’s startled me into talking like DR stims and Button-mash!

My reaction got the giggle of the two mares flanking his sides whom never introduced themselves. I knew not their names at this time, but I had a few… educated guesses. Let's go right to left cause these two will totally be plot-relevant later. The sexy blue earth mare on Moko’s left, let's call her ‘Insert-crystal-here’ given the sheer volume of sparkles in her coat, wavy navy-blue mane, fine violet eyeliner, them ‘dayum’ quality lashes, and…oh right, her cutiemark is a fucking stripper-pole with stars so… that's a given. I know assuming makes an ‘ass’ of ‘u’ and ‘me’ but DAT ASSS!! (Peak literature folks) “Dawww, Moko is this that out-of-towner you were bragging about? She’s so cuuute, looking all triggered already, it’s precious!~<3” God goddesses she's a gusher. (Not like that you degenerates!..I think.)

And the uni-mare on Moko’s right (my left), Let's call her.. ‘Dick-Magnet’. “Heh, pervert’s already droolin’.” I’m not petty I swear… I’m VERY petty! “Is she really the one burnt down the hotel? She doesn’t look like she’d get past tha’ working girls there, much less tha’ guards.” Dick-Magnet was also assuming but in this instance, it just made her an ass. Strawberry red coat like the Big-Mac hero of the old but more of a lime green mane… in fact she had every color of a strawberry from hydroponics going on. Darn, a missed opportunity to name her Strawbitch! Petty vengeance aside, she was as laden with glow rings n sticks as ‘insert-crystal-here’ was. And holy-shit am I blind, she’s hovering a literal bowl of strawberries next to her and her cutiemark is a cut open, gaping, dripping strawberry. So many missed opportunities but I am a mare of my principles and I’m sticking with ‘Dick-Magnet’. “Yer not gonna invite her up to the room with us are ya’?” she asks mid eating a strawberry.

“I beat those working girls to death with a candelabra.” I squinted at Dick-magnet in particular while gesturing back at the counter where the check-desk stallion could be seen struggling to get the candelabra in the locker just right… my dented, blood-stained, goop-smeared, golden candelabra.

Both stood there in stunned silence with eyes a little wide, looking between me and my melee weapon of choice, before slowly looking at Moko between them. “Is that uhh… true Moko?” Dick-magnet asked appropriately concerned.

Moko made a little hiss. “Welll…yeah, aaand she freed all of Dad’s future props, aaaand took out Safflower, and threatened to shoot dad too…sucks she took out Daisy thou, she had a great ass but self-defense is self-defense right?” he smiled sheepishly looking between the mares.

Dick-magnet just looked up at him with annoyed disbelief. “Moko, in what wasteland is any of that considered self-defense?”

I had the answer! “This one, Cause the hookers started it so everything that happened after was their fault..” I sat folding my forehooves as I got into a glaring contest with the strawberry uni-mare.

“Oh, wow.. Uhh..” Insert-crystal-here interjected gently putting space between me and Dick-magnet. “Daisy actually works here, like, little identity mix up there but that Moko for ya, heh.. And It’s like, Super tense in here. Like, wow. We're all here to have a good time right? Get fucked up and party?” She asked putting on a forced smile. “Can everypony be cool? Maybe hit the bar before you start hitting eachother? We gotta charge extra for that.” Crystal (let's shorten it to Crystal) asked but started nudging us along anyway trying to ease the mood. “Yeah, the bar is a great idea, Have fun, loosen you guys up.”

Being pushed along through the crowds of raving ponies by Crystal and struggling not to trip in the process was hard. But the bar went harder. I'd seen the speakeasy down in the old mineshafts of 83 but this… this was a proper bar. Less of a saloon vibe like back home and more of a flashing lights and nose candy kinda vibe. Several ponies manned the bar, all unicorns, many doing little juggling acts with the drinks, except the one that slid up to us.

“Ladies, Your Majesty.” he gave a nod while polishing several shot glasses at once. Even I couldn't split my TK than many times without tripping on something. “So, who's the new girl?” he asked sizing me up and I in turn adjusted my glasses and squinted back.

“Oh right, this is…uhh…” He had a hoof pointed at me and everything, stopping to ponder. “Erm…”

“Cmon, you can do it.” I encouraged “I don’t know how impressive it is but you've got a 4 in 10ish track record of getting my name right.”

He blinked as the ambient smoke passed in one ear and out the other.

“Yer getting warmer, I'm the one who…” I led him on.

“Who…”

“Who killed all the-”

Ding! “-hookers, yeah!” he lit up. “So like, check this out dude. This is Sketchy right, and we were at this wild bender at the Coltifornia and she came in all investigator-like, askin’ questions n’ shit. Then this one bitch pulls a knife on her right and-”

“Long story short The Hotel Coltifornia is now a pile of rubble.” I finished for him. “And since I rescued Moko from being stabbed to death by all those…mares.. He said he’d take me here, show me around, hit up the biggest club in Applewood, and get me whatever the hell a sweeper is.”

The bartender looked most surprised at the mention of a sweeper VS the destruction of a golden hotel. “Seriously Moko? Her? How many times do I have to tell you to stop offering Sweepers to ponies of sub-par constitution?”

“Hey! I have a constitution! It's like…an 8!” yeah that's a good number.

“Of 20.” Dick-magnet jipped, popping another strawberry in her mouth.

Sketchy has been insulted! Right in thee delicate unicorn ego! WREEE!! “Okay, firstly I'd say ‘fuck you’ but half the club appears to have beat me to it.”

Moko snickered, Yes! “Yeah I am pretty much half this club's income aren't I?” Nevermind…

“Secondly, I can too handle it! Gimmie one right now, Moko said he’d pay for it on the way here and the bouncers can confirm it.” I rapidly tapped a hoof on the counter.

The barkeep sighed. “Here we go again…” he muttered to himself before reaching under the counter and pulling out- a piece of paper? “Sign here please.”

I blinked down at it and started to read. “What's this?”

“It's a waver. A sweeper is the hardest-hitting drink we have, thus the name. This here states that we are not responsible if you overdose, die of alcohol poisoning, or other actions conducted by you in an inebriated state. Also, it's an agreement to pay the 500 caps for a dose of Party-Stopper in the event you do overdose.” he slid it a little closer to me.

I should probably read this, legal documents are pretty important after all. ‘Terms and Conditions-’ “Here ya go.” I slid it back, signed with my glorious signature. “So like, what kind of drink am I in for? I can take anything if it makes her look dumb.” I pointed over at Dick-Magnet.

“Hey!” she retorted, and that's when it hit me, Dick-magnet over there is just like Tulip-Patch! But if Tulip-patch had a stripper career and none of the historical baggage to justify her behavior and reveal she's just a lonely squishy mare on the inside!

He just gave me a long non-plussed stare. “You’ll be fine…” he said with zero confidence. And the show began. First the yay big cone glass, then the yard-long silly straw which I felt is what really sold me on the drink. Five bottles, a dozen pill bottles, a bike tire pump, a mortar and pestle, and a paint can all ended up on the counter.

“Now watch a master at work babe, it's one of the few things left that can fuck even me up.” always a good thing to hear from a very healthy-looking Zony with a triple deep-fried memory span.

Now I was fascinated, and concerned, but mostly fascinated. Bottles twirled and poured into the glass with his TK while his hooves powdered a pill from each bottle in the mortar. Truly the alchemy of my era, poured right into the drink turning the concoction dark and foggy.. and bubbling a little. But that was only half of it. Next some clear fluid from the paint-can into the glass till it was nearly full, then set about hooking a few of those red inhalers to the bike pump. He stuck a little tube into the drink and started pumping. The drink bubbled and gave off a familiar reddish smoke and stained the drink a few more hues of crimson. Once the inhalers were spent he pulled out a small pinkish rock, smashed it with a little hammer, and smeared the result along the rim of the glass leaving white crystals in its wake, and to top it all off… a pair of sparklers sticking out the top. “The all-in-one, the reset, the kitchen sink, or as you know it, a Sweeper…” He slid the drink to me. “Enjoy.”

I stared at the concoction presented before me. “Wow… it smells like I could run a reactor on it.”

“You technically can!” Moko pointed out, but looked far too giddy at the situation. He was bouncing a little in place, eagerly waiting for me to take a sip like a colt waiting for birthday presents.

“Well? You gonna drink it or wuss out and let it go flat?” Dick-Magnet goaded.

Little did she know I have the emotional fortitude of hardened steel! I was well past petty tricks from Dad’s book like ‘peer pressure’ and ‘ego stoking. and- “Yes I’m gonna drink it!” I pointed at her before snatching the silly straw with my TK and bringing it down to my mouth. I sipped and it tasted… weird. It was a bit fruity, it fizzed like sparkle cola, and my tongue tingled… but it was just that.

Dick-magnet finally looked impressed, Crystal looked concerned watching the drink slowly go down, and Moko looked like he was about to explode before he ordered one for himself too- but the barkeep already had one ready for him before he even asked.

“I’m not seeing what the big deal is… I can barely taste anything.” I sucked on the straw harder. “It’s like… Like I’m tasting the ghosts of fruits past. It's fizzy but super dull…” yet I couldn't stop drinking, it was just ‘good enough’ that you kept drinking without even thinking about it.

Moko downed his in one go and cheered before running off to the dance floor. “What's with him?” I asked having to get louder as the music did too, and the lights brighter. When did they add lasers?

“Hmm?” Crystal looked. “Oh like, he likes to time the hit with whatever base drop. It also means like, he’s gonna make ministry mares roll over in their graves as he fucks the glitter out of me. Cause, ya know, Zony’s and stuff. I mean it’s fun and all but getting the glitter out of the sheets and visiting the chiropractor is such a pain like, seriously.”

“Tell me about it.” Strawberry McDick-magnet added rolling her eyes. “Last time he-” well that's enough of me caring what she had to say on the matter.

“You have no idea how many questions you’re raising for me right now.” I said still drinking. “Like, What do you know about the saints anyways? What do you mean hit? And who’s gonna drop a bass guitar? I haven't seen a single instrument…here… Hoooooooo shit.” It felt like a wave of lucid balefire was coming right at me like in that ment-al trip I had, and all I could do was sit there and watch its approach. My hooves were tingling and my blood vibrated to the music. Those are good signs, right?

Crystal noticed immediately. “Whoops, there she goes. If these are the last words you hear, just remember to have fuuun!” she called with hooves up to her mouth like she was yelling for me across the room, yet she was right infront of me. I think…. She planted a kiss on my cheek though and trotted right past me. “Don't die!~” she cheered with a hoof pump in the air before slipping into the rave crowd with Dick-magnet.

“She seems nice…” I mumbled to myself, trying to remember when I stood up from the bar…or if I ever sat down. Little fireworks shot off from the kissed cheek and exploded into colorful little puffs.

This dear readers, is when things got weird. And by weird I mean my cartoonish personification of Brain slumped over the bar with a glass in one hand and a suitcase in the other. “Brain… what are you doing here?” It’s a legitimate question!

“I’m… checking out.” He gurgled into the counter before rolling off the seat, falling to the floor with a squish. His black line noodle limbs sprawled out and he (somehow) snored forming a snot bubble.

I being the courteous mare that I am, put some napkins over him like a blanket before turning to the dancefloor flashing all the brighter. “Rest well my degenerate grey-matter, for tonight Sketchy finally gets to let it all out! Wooo!!!” I cheered prancing my way into the ground. Each bounce felt far higher than it should have but I didn't care! The sensory overload was amazing!!

“WEEEE!!!” is an accurate summation of what I remembered happening that night. After tucking brain in, all memory of what occurred devolves into a soup of neon, noise, and flickers of how good it felt intermittent with islands of memory. It took many hours to arrange these memories into chronological order so I hope you’re happy dear reader.

Amidst the sea of dancing ponies was me, a table, and ponies chanting ‘Huff!! Huff! Huff!!”. I don't know when I learned how to operate dash inhalers, but it must have been during the sweeper-fueled blackout cause I was taking hits from every inhaler they passed me. Grab, hiss, toss, grab, hiss, toss. I’d never felt more awake than I did with red mist spilling from my mouth as I cheered. “Wooo!!!” I remember feeling like my blood was tingling, and that I had a sudden urge to run a marathon. Instead, I opted for the next best thing, attempting to fly! I did not succeed, but I did learn the club has a carpet under all those raving ponies. That memory ends with me looking up at the stage where the strippers were doing their routines, and suddenly getting an idea… Ohh this is a perfect spot for a wobbly scene transition! OoOoOoOoo~!

While I do hope this archive gets popular one day, to those whom do read it, don't tell PJ, Tulip, Bronze, Lucy... infact don't tell anypony I know about the following unless they found out on their own. Now where was I?... ahem... Page flip… Crystal’s tongue tastes like candy. There, I said it! Glitter-mare must have been a dentist in a past life with how fast she found my tonsils. What started as a cracked-out me joining her on stage ended with me pinned between her and the pole… much to the cheers of the crowd. Theeeen it was me pinning her to the pole, much to the louder cheers of the crowd. Perverts… we were having a very hot and blueberry-glitter-flavored moment here. A moment that would make sober me squee just thinking about it.

High above I swear I could have seen the silhouette of a pony flanked by two alicorns behind a large window overlooking the club. But that just goes to show you how cooked I was. I’m sure there’s some kind of vague and esoteric meaning behind that one pony growing a pair of hole-riddled wings that shrank to nothing while the outline of their mane grew before they walked off with the alicorn shadows.

Remember those stripper poles? Now I wish for you to imagine what it looks like for a skrunkly-ass nerd-mare like me to use one. Now imagine said mare was high/drunk off her ass, tasting sounds, and smelling colors. Now imagine she took the glitter mare she’d just been making out with and threw her into the crowd to be body-surfed away by ravers. Got it? Good. Cause that's basically what happened. I had far more energy than intelligence at that point, so drunk-ass sketchy tried out her new twirling routine. “Weee!!”

In hindsight, Sober me had no idea what I was doing and I cringe to this day, but wasted me figured, just do what you imagined the strippers doing. And it worked judging by how ponies kept handing me drinks and inhalers. Who knew drunk me was this charismatic? Things got a little wobbly when I was handed a pair of inhalers that looked a lil’ different. I contributed to my compost pile of good decisions that night, by not questioning it. Inhalers in each hoof, sliding onto my hind knees, huffing both and twitching on the dance floor till I blew a big crimson heart in the air. The psychotic levels of energy hit hard enough that I'd have started bashing my head into the floor if not for a new arrival.

Strutting in to the beat like she owned the place, came a stunning unimare. Her figure: flawless, Her mane: A vibrant orange that bounced with each step, her coat: a perfect pale green in every way. I wasn’t rubbernecking or anything… I was just watching her approach the pole opposite me with that smile.. It was slow motion like with PJ but narry a word was exchanged. All she did was make a little nod towards the pole after she got her hooves around it, I’d been challenged! And my drunk unicorn ego demanded satisfaction!

Whether I got the satisfaction of momentarily being the best pole dancer in the land I may never know. The memory warbled out ~oOoOoOo~ right about then but I did make it back to the bar!

“...- so anyways we can head back to my room if you want doll. It’s got two poles you can twirl on, though mine is significantly thicker~” said a leather-jacketed stallion sitting in the barstool next to mine. He had a brown coat… at least I think he was brown, the edges of my vision were starting to get brown too. And his jacket was covered in faces…not the weirdest thing I'd seen tonight.

“Y-yeah, that sounds like fun~.. I’ve never…never had…” I swayed, or at least my vision did. “Hey!...are you hitting on me?” I blinked asynchronously, Sketchy energy levels falling.

“Whaaat? Noooo~” he maintained that same punchable smirk as he leaned on the bar. “I’m a talent agent, doll. You were just so great up on stage I figured you might be up for a more private audition.”

“Y-Yeah…let me just think about-” I grabbed the nearest bottle and smashed it over his head, knocking him to the ground. “Fuck you!” I stumbled out of my seat while he got back up, blood pouring down his face.

“Aghh! You crazy bitch!” he yelled, backing up and holding his face trying to pry some shards out.. “I’ll have you fucking skinned!”

I wasn’t done though. “Why thank you! I worked very hard for that title!” Bottle number 2, electric boogaloo! The smashening! The rest of the ravers gasped, screamed, or cheered for more as I smashed bottles two and three over the exact same spot as I kept walking towards him. “Try fucking with a stable-mare again and I’ll peel your dick like a banana!”

I'd been reaching for bottle number four when a number of suited guards came charging from every direction. “Oh fuck yeah! Seven on one! Legs go! I can take on the world-”

-THUNK-

Ahh shit, blackness again…

-Level up!!!-
Perk unlocked: Lead Belly.

-Take less radiation from what you eat and drink.