Blue Moon! You saw me standing alone! Hello, children! I am only moments away from having my door kicked down and being rushed by soldiers, so listen up. This may be my last broadcast for a while.
Harkness won the election, barely beating Endagger. Sons of bitches. Naw, I'm just playing around with you, Harkness is all right, and I must say it'd be fine living under him. However, the door is on its last kick of the hinges, and soon the soldiers will be hauling me off to the desert to shoot my head in. Lovely, I know.
I'm not as wordy today, but it's my last broadcast, you see? I'm splitting. Once those fucks come in, I have a surprise, then I'm making my getaway. Maybe I'll go up North. Or back West. I don't know, children. It's been a long year.
The Talon Company has started taking pop shots at the Capitalists, bringing on another age of war and violence. We live in fear not only of strangers, but also of neighbors. Before long, the Capitalists will be at war with us, and then we'll be moving on to fight the Remnants. Who the hell will win that one? We have more soldiers, but they have better discipline. We have larger workers forces, but they have superior production lines. Who would win? Think that over as these fucks try to take me.
Let me tell you all a little secret: I come from the far West, farther than anyone can remember. I came from the same place the Brotherhood left to and the Enclave should have died in. The Hell hole known as California. There, I was a soldier for the NCR, or at least I was. I was injurred in a raid against the early troops of Caesar's Legion, a slaver nation building an empire one tribe at a time. I was the best sniper around, but after that injury, it was go to the front lines or go home. So I said fuck you to both options. I went East, saying "Perhaps here, things will be different." But I'm seeing the same old bullshit here that I saw there. People who once lived in communes now live in competition. Brothers now kill each other for scraps of food and slivers of land. And Super Mutants are the least of our worries.
So, I'll tell all of you this: do your part. It's inevitable, isn't it? The bullshit, the lies, the war, the pain. It's all coming in full bloom, isn't it? How long will it be until we see more mushroom clouds growing over the horizon? The Rivet State reminds me so much of the NCR it's uncanny, and a little frightening.
Ah, shit. Fuck. There goes the door. Time to go, children. See you when I can!