Greetings. What you are about to read are my memoirs, at least what I remember of my memoirs. But don’t worry, I have a photographic memory, on account of being able to take photographs of myself or other people.



The story begins with my parents, Mr. Shootan McFallout, and Mrs. Speachy McFallout. I never really got along with my dad, he kept using these.. metal pipe things that had fire come out. Me, I like bashing things.

I was hired as a courier, as that is my job now. This lead to me being shot in the face by the loudest jacket I’ve ever seen. There may have been a guy in this jacket, I’m not sure.

I’m buried in a shallow grave, which happens to be somewhat close to a small village which, fortunately, has a doctor who can cure diseases such as “no longer able to breathe”, “being shot in the face”, and a minor case of athlete’s foot.

After I awake, I tell him my name:

He responds as he apparently also has the cure for bedside manner:

My name goes back to the pre-war days you know, when men were men and women were women and fists were fists and baseball bats were baseball bats.

He tells me that he performed some surgery on me and to make sure my face ain’t wrong.

For starters: everything. Including what’s in my pants which he had no business digging around in.

That’s better.

This machine measures my attributes. I assume it fakes it all because how do you measure charisma and luck? Does it go by body temperature? Or maybe it implants a small die in my skin which then checks how many times it turns up six? Whatever. It seems pretty accurate, because I am smokin’ hot and smokin’ tough

So, uh, doc.. you’re a physician/surgeon, right? Not a psych evaluator? Just making sure.

Gee, thanks, guy I just met, for your herloom item you only have one of. And the outfit of your dead wife. That’s not unusual at all! Oh, sorry about taking everything that’s not nailed down. It’s okay, right? Right. Bye!

So I headed out into the world, wearing a hat. You need a hat. I’m ready to bash things and talk to things and cut things. But first.. my pockets are bulging and I need cash. The last job only paid in bullets. Skull bullets.