Note, I’ve
deliberately taken some liberties with the storyline, so there will
be some spoilers and me making some stuff up. This is a little bit of
comedy intended to be read by people who have finished the game (just
so they get the references, as well as not suffering spoilers).
This is the first time
I’ve written something like this (well, apart from a Metal Gear
Solid story I wrote about 15 years ago) so do let me know if you like
it and I’ll write more of this and/or other games.
Date: 2077 October 23rd
I’m growing really
tired of this suburban hell. Being married to the most stupid man
alive doesn’t make it any easier. Nate’s idiocy does mean I’ve
gotten away with a few close calls when anyone with half a brain
would’ve noticed something amiss (my bosses back in Beijing really
did pick out a prize-winning sucker for me), but this latest episode
is just something else.
The baby’s black,
Nate. And you’re not. Did you think he was born with a suntan?
It’s bloody annoying,
but if this jester really is the calibre of a career soldier in the
US then at least we’re going to win this war, and probably soon.
HQ sent over a muppet
with a clipboard to get me signed into the local vault (a private
enterprise shelter in case of nuclear devastation). Seems a little
unnecessary, but does help me blend in with the local paranoid
bed-wetters.
Halloween’s close.
It’s this Western holiday which involves socially-sanctioned
vandalism, harassing people in their own home for sweets, and
dressing up like fools (or skanks. You wouldn’t believe the kind of
thing Nate wanted me to wear). The sooner we crush these capitalist
pigdogs the better.
Although I do like
their sweet rolls.
Late addition: we’ve
nuked most of the US! Got to run to the shelter, but we’ve won!
Late late addition: you
know, some warning from Beijing would’ve been nice. I almost got
swallowed by a nuclear storm. The shelter seems functional enough,
although I think in the confined conditions I may end up murdering
Nate. And the social etiquette is really intrusive. I had to strip
down to my underwear and put on this blue catsuit in front of some
pervy doctor. Just as soon as I’ve gone through decontamination and
everything checks out I’m going to lay down the law to him.
Date: 2287 October 23rd
Decontamination was a
con. I should’ve known better than to trust a dodgy Western
corporation. I got frozen cryogenically. Briefly got thawed out to
see some slaphead shoot Nate and steal the kid. When I woke up
properly, everybody else was dead. A dozen cryo-chambers and every
single one failed except mine (Nate’s seemed to be working but
given he had a gaping hole in his skull it didn’t do him much
good).
Found myself a new
catsuit and a truncheon. Everything’s dead here except for some
giant cockroaches. I must have been out for a while. Got hold of a
gun and some glasses (I always did my best work as ‘sexy
secretary’) and found a handy PipBoy. Time to go home, dig out the
transmitter, and get in touch with Beijing.
Late addition: more
roaches at home. Codsworth (damned silly name. Serves me right for
letting the moron pick it) was the only thing still functioning but I
think he’s suffered some sort of corrosion. Gave me a holotape of
Nate being soppy.
Oh, and the war ended
just over 200 years ago.
Everyone I know is
dead. On the other hand, my backpay is going to be billions of yen,
so swings and roundabouts.
Date: 2287 October 24th
[Morning]
All the houses were
absolutely ruined. Took a while, but I managed to salvage enough junk
to build a half-decent home, and used my stash of weaponry (still
serviceable) to create some machine-gun turrets. That’s the good
news. The bad is that my radio transmitter was busted. Seems like
vandals broke in, missed the guns but had a shooting match and turned
the comms gear into Swiss cheese.
The US is an absolute
mess of lawless decadence and social breakdown. And now it’s
irradiated too. Still no idea how things are back home. Starting to
worry Uncle Sam might have sent a missile or two Beijing’s way. But
we’re resilient, I’m sure everything’s ok. That does leave the
problem of contact, though. Only option is to wander into this
apocalyptic mess and try to find someone who knows one end of a diode
from another. What fun.
Oh, and Codsworth kept
rambling on about Shaun (that’s the kid). Annoyed me at first, but
“I’m looking for my son” is a much better excuse for wandering
about than “I’m a Chinese spy. Any idea how to get in touch with
Beijing?”, not least because I can’t imagine the locals (if there
are any) will be fans of China given we nuked their country back to
the Stone Age.
Thaddeus
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