[Repeatedly] My name is Roger.
Hey, Rog.
[Laughs] Hey. Hey. Fancy seeing you out here. You out for that bounty, too, huh?
Yep. [Roger snarls and wails] Oh, shit. How you feeling?
Oh... you know... it’s hard out here. Dang smoothies can be so unkind. [Pants] I see you got a smoothie of your own. [Snarls]
You’re turning.
[Grunts] Yeah. Yeah, maybe. Maybe. [Chuckles] Hey, you- you don’t happen to have any vials, do you? [Sniffles] Just one little puff and I’ll be back on my feet. You know I’m good for it.
I’m sorry, Roger. I’m all out.
That’s okay. That’s okay. Though, um, you and your smooth-faced friend, you, um... might want to clear out... before things get ugly. [Snarls] I did okay. Twenty-eight years since I first started showing. [Yells] Oh, hell. [Grunts] Not as long as you, though. You’ve outlasted us all. How long since you first started wastelanding?
A long time.
That’s a lot of vials.
Well, I’ve always been good at making money, Roger. [Exhales] Say...you remember how good food used to taste?
Yeah...BlamCo Mac & Cheese!
Ice cream and apple pie!
Apple pie! [Laughs] Hot damn. Apple pie. You know, my mom used to — [The Ghoul shoots Roger in the head]
Wait... why’d you do that?! He was sick! [The Ghoul flips Roger's body over, reaches for orthodontics tools and pulls out a tooth from Roger] Stop! Stop, stop! Please! I... No, I know it’s hard up here, but you don’t... you don’t have... you don’t have to resort to... to...
What’d you say your name was?
Lucy MacLean.
MacLean? Huh. Well, Lucy MacLean, it ain’t all canned peaches and marmalade left up here, sweetheart. Sometimes a fella’s got to eat a fella.
You know, my vault has endured hardship, too. In the Great Plague of ’77, everyone had to quarantine, they couldn’t work the farms together. People starved. My mother included. My dad dropped to 128 pounds, and he still refused to do anything like this. [The Ghoul laughs] What? What’s so funny?
Well, there’s what people say they did and what they really did. I’ll bet your daddy was first in line at the cookout. I bet he had a bib with a drawing of his neighbor’s ass on there.
How do you live like this?! Why keep going?!
Well, one good question deserves another. Why the fuck am I doing all the work? Now come on, Vaultie. Ass jerky don't make itself.
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