The Wild Wastelands | Megaton | The Gates
///Ignorance is (not) an excuse///
They say that Ignorance is no excuse. Ignorance of the law, ignorance of society, ignorance of culture. It's never an excuse. However, in the case of Thomas "Shifty" McGee, the Former Friendly Neighborhood Undertaker, Arizona, a Ghoul with a Machine Gun and a Mission and Sylphee, ... ummm... well... it's Sylphee, an exception should be made when it came to the current events unfolding in the Wastelands. Thomas had spent a number of weeks spooning a bottle of the ole Shroomshine under a rock somewhere in Rivet City, his mind blasted on the 150 Proof alcohol. Arizona was new to the Wastelands, having migrated there from the West. And Sylphee... ummm... well... it's Sylphee. Had any of them been aware of the ongoing war between the Sylphys and the Garys as well as the mass jettisoning of Raiders from the American Enclave Scouts of America's transport, they might have been prepared for the reception that they received at the gate... namely this:
"Hey! You gonna let us in, or what? We've got caps to spend, and don't plan on causing any trouble." The Old One shouted up to the sentry, her eyes bloodshot and her head pounding from the cranial pounding Sylphee's voice had been inducing the past few hours.
The answer wasn't so much an answer as it was a flurry of Machine gun fire aimed at the small trio of travelers. The staccato of gun fire followed the flurry of bullets that impacted the ground around the three, kicking up a rather large cloud of dust blocking the trio's view of the gate. Though, it should have been noted that it also blocked the sentry's view of the trio that immediately ran for cover.
Crouched behind a small bathtub, Thomas could hear the guard, Timmy calling down his partner, located just behind the gate and looking through a peep hole.
"'Ey Jimmy! It think I popped one of them there Sylphys in the face man! Chu wanna go out there and take a look fer me?" Timmy the Sentry called down to Jimmy who was apparently the brains of the operation since there was a flurry of muffled words that soon followed.
"Others? Oh! They musta been some slavers man! No one would dress up in clothes like and dress his sex slaves in clothes like that unless he was a slaver. I think one of them wuz a zombie, man. That's gross! He's a ghoul fucker and a slaver!" Jimmy answered loudly as he besmirched the good name of Thomas "Shifty" McGee.
Another muffled response came from Timmy down stairs.
"No, I didn' ask fer no names!"
"What in WALT'S NAME is going on?! Why in WALT'S NAME would you shoot at us?!" The Irate Former Undertaker yelled from behind the tub, his voice reflecting the sheer offended nature of his being at having been mistaken for a slaver.
"Oh! Looks like one of them's still alive!" Timmy said as he raised the machine gun again, taking aim towards where he though the voice was coming from, popping off a salad sized salvo of lead in Thomas' general direction.
"HEY! HEEEEEEY! Please, stop shooting at us. I'm Thomas "Shifty" McGee. I'm an Undertaker with the Union! I'm here on business! My companions are Arizona and Sylphee!" Thomas yelled, taking on his old title and hoping that it would at least assist in settling the matter without having to resort to bloodshed. Even the Warner Brothers weren't going to keep Thomas from getting through that gate.
"'Ey Jimmy! One of them says that's he's an Undertaker by the name of Shitty!" Timmy said, not shooting this time and instead waiting for further instructions from Jimmy the Brains,
"Says that he's here on bidness."
More muffled responses.
"'Ey you Undertaker. Why're you travelin' with one of them there Sylphys?!" Timmy asked.
"Sylphys? No I'm traveling with just Sylphee!"
"Sylphy!"
"What?!" Thomas asked, his voice clearly sounding quite annoyed by the guard and his mouth.
"Sylphy! That's what they're called, not Sylphee!"
"I don't hear a difference! I said Sylphee! Sylphee! Sylphee! Sylphee!"
"Sylphy! Sylphy! Sylphy! Can't you hear the difference?!"
"No! Walt damn it! No I don't hear a Walt Damn difference!"
"Well, regardless of that, Mister Shitty or whatever you wanna call yerself. You ain't gettin' pass this gate with one of them Sylphys in tow so I suggess you march off!" Timmy said, putting his foot down on the matter.
"What if we just leave her at the gate?"
The question had an obvious effect on the Blue Haired Happy Go Lucky Psychopath, Sylphee the Crimson menace as she hopped out in the open to yell at her Daddy.
"Hey! Hey! Hey! Daddy, you're not leaving me here! I wanna go inside with you. Please take me with you! I wanna go inside Mister Megaton. Please please please please please PLEAAAAAASE!!!!!" Sylphee complained as she hopped up and down, her voice getting louder and louder and louder and louder. At least until she lost her footing, "Oops!"
BAH-BOOOM! Went the Anti Materiel Rifle as it struck the ground and discharged, sending a bullet
through the gate. A scream of pain echoed out the hole the bullet had made and was soon followed yelling.
"Man are you sure, Jimmy?"
More muffled yelling.
"Alright! Jimmy says I should let chu in, if you take that there rifle away from that there Sylphy." The guard said, a smirk crossing his face. He never liked Jimmy, not since he learned that Jimmy had been bedding his wife while the guard was on guard duty.
"That's Sylphee!" Sylphee called out, offended that the guard would get her name wrong.
"I still don't hear a difference and I still don't know what in the hell is going on here." Thomas muttered to himself, his voice muffled by the roar of the airplane engine that opened up the gates. Shouldering the Sylphee's rifle, Thomas entered Megaton, relieved that they'd been allowed inside. Since night was fast approaching, Thomas guessed that they'd better go to Moriarty's to get a room before he ran out and in the morning, he'd go check Lucy's house to see if he could find her.
"Let's go get some rooms." The Friendly Former Neighborhood Undertaker stated simply as he walked towards the Saloon whose sign glowed in the distance. The sooner he slept, the sooner morning would come.
[hr]
The Wild Wastelands | Moriarty's Saloon
It appeared that little had changed since the last time Thomas the Former Undertaker was in Moriarty's Saloon. The drinks still smelled stale and the patrons smelled even worse and yet, despite the obvious lack of anyone taking points in an Interior Design Skill, Shifty McGee felt right at home in the dilapidated building. Entering the Saloon's main room, Thomas noted the uneasy stares that he was receiving as well as Sylphee was receiving.
"Hey there handsome. Been a while." A silky voice said from the corner of the bar, "I was starting to think you forgot about lil' ole me."
Turning to face the voice, Thomas suddenly became nervous as he saw Nova sitting at the bar, cocktail in front of her and a look in her eyes that said "Give me your Caps and I'll give you a great time."
"N... Nova. Yeah... well... has it been that long?" Thomas responded, keenly and uncomfortably aware of the eyes that were looking at him, the eyes that belonged to a certain Crimson Menace, the only one to follow him up to the Saloon since Arizona had complained about a headache and the need for something to quell said headache. "N... Nice seeing you. Ummm... I'm just here for a room."
"You don't want me to come up later? Thomas. I thought we had an understanding." Nova pouted, dipping her chin down to her ample and soft...
"Daddy! I'm tired. Can we get a room yet?" Sylphee whined, thankfully interrupting Nova's game of twist Thomas around her fingers.
"Right... sure... whew." Thomas muttered as he motioned for Moriarty.
"Well if it isn't good ole... WHAT IN THE FUCK IS SHE DOING HERE?!" Moriarty exclaimed as he ducked behind the bar, putting something solid between himself and his previous assailant.
Looking over the bar, the usually wordy Former Undertaker noted that Moriarty was in the duck and cover position, as some sort of Act of God was about to descend upon him and rip his world apart.
"Ummm... rooms? Please?" Thomas said awkwardly as dropped some caps on the bar, the sound of currency bringing the Saloon's proprietor out of his shell, "Three of them."
"This is only enough for 2." Moriarty said, "and to cover the stitches your pal behind you gave me when she sliced me shoulder open like a fish."
"But.. I." Thomas stammered, he was unaware of the fact that Sylphee had been to Moriarty's previously and had in fact impaled the man's shoulder with her wrist blade during her hunt for the Sharply Dressed Man. The realization that something had happened came soon after as Thomas wheeled on the Blue Haired Ditz, "What did you do, young lady?"
"I 'unno." Sylphee responded with a shrug, her smile never leaving her face.
"Fine. Whatever." Thomas said, defeated as he headed up the stairs to one of the rooms, closing it behind him and sitting down on a chair within.
"Bouncy! Bouncy! Bouncy! Bouncy!" Sylphee exclaimed as she found the room's bed and started jumping on it. This was going to be a long night, made even worse by the thinness of the walls.
"Okay, seriously? Where's Kristin?", A feminine voice said,
"Couldn't you pay your entertainment first, so she could leave, before you came to visit me?"