Bye-Bye, Vegas
You know what's weird? Ever since all this vortex crap rained down, it's like... This place lost its lure. Even I felt it - a magnetic thing. I remember, way out, down by Searchlight. Those mines. I made my way there, yesterday.
Nothing.
No fucking thing, whatsoever.
Well, guess the party's over now, huh? Not the big one, toots, nuh-uh. That one's just starting up. Came here to get me a Slayer, though. If Vegas went frigid, that means the draw's gone and if there's no prey, then there ain't no hunters, right? Not as many as there were, anyway.
Oh, don't get get me wrong... Kids playing 'soldier' are way fun to hunt down, but I can do without drawing APC fire up my rear end, you know?
So, I'm hauling on out. In fact, I'm in a tropical mood. Somewhere laid back. Somewhere happy. Somewhere without so much fucking government interference riding my ass, like it's a shower-time in Gitmo. Bermuda, maybe?
Well, wherever it is, I won't go camping out too near a harbour, this time. 1942... Real bad Christmas, man.