Here's to drowning sorrows.

Feel free to change pronouns or otherwise alter phrases as desired!

Never underestimate the power of a very nice suit.

You said you were covering the door.

I was covering the door. You were shot through a window!

What did you guys do in there? Why are you covered in blood?

The head, neck, and face are very, very vascular. So it’s a lot of blood.

Nice call on the DayGlo green.

What, you don’t like this color?

Who knew the optic nerve was so long? I’m surprised his asshole didn’t come with it.

Did you just like scoop it out, or…

I’m getting light-headed.

You’re not the one holding it.

Now you said whatever I need to do, right? So, I’m just going to do it.

You want to get out and compare, or should we maybe think about going?

You can live for days with a gunshot wound in the stomach. She’ll be fine.

Let’s just grab the head.

Do you mind? I can feel the tip.

He’s no longer inside me. We’re safe. What is your name?

Big guy’s still staring at me, isn’t he?

I don’t think that’s how the expression goes. Don’t handle your shit, flush it down the toilet like a grown-ass man.

Be subtle. Blend in. Disappear.

I hate this town. I really do.

A coup. A coup d’état. It’s French, Napoleon. French history stuff. Okay. You can’t tear a place down until you have someone to build it back up.

You and your Bruce Wayne shit!

Boo.

But what makes you think that I want to see you again? You weren’t that memorable.

So she’ll never know you stopped coming. 

See, you’re lucky that I don’t paint the inside of this car with chunks of your fucking skull.

Jesus, who raised you, the mob?

That’s none of your fucking business, [NAME]

Oh, darling, you could be on fire, and you would have the same creepy blank expression on your face. No offense.

Uh, I can hear you. And if you’re going to shit your pants, there’s a bathroom in the back.

Eagle’s landed. I love that movie line.

How you doing over there? You having fun yet?

Mate, you’re really ruining my flow right now, you know that?

What do you mean you have a bad idea? No, you’re supposed to have good ideas.

It’s fucked up right now, so watch me work. I’m improvising.

Oh, shit! Was that a bad guy?

Why is it always me that has to do this kind of shit, man?

Hey, Chatty Cathy. Do you know what over and out means? 

I’m just saying, I’m a little afraid. What do you want me to say?

Conversation’s over. Capisce?

This is where you ask me if I’m afraid. Right now, I’m shit scared.

They have some fancy food up there, huh?

Really? Tell me more about that. Don’t hold back.

I’m fucking kidding. Focus.

It’s so delicious, man. They put this little cheese on it.

Does it have to be on the walkie-talkie? And we’re all standing right here. Yeah?

“Sang to them – that’s what I was hearing!” Rori declared, letting out a laugh and reaching up to cover her face with her hand momentarily. Once the amusement subsided to a mere giggle and a grin, she looked back at John.

“I was so captivated by your singing that I stopped what I was doing to listen and a feral spotted me. It was chasing something, but I didn’t really see what it was. I assume you tossed something at it?”

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid, but they really seem to enjoy it. One came up to me with a bowling pin - that’s what you saw it chase by the way - and kept walking ahead of me and glanced back at the pin until I started throwing it,” John explained. “Sometimes I sit down and eat with them too. I bring my own food, mind you, but I think it’s nice.”

John paused for a moment, suddenly seeming to realize something judging from the saddened frown that formed on his face. He took a deep breath and tried to shake the thoughts from his head.

Despite being amused - and overall relieved - Rori did have a nagging worry in the back of her mind. While the ferals wouldn’t bother John any, they would still bother her. Which meant if she was going to get him somewhere safer for the both of them for him to heal better, she’d either have to take them out or be extra sneaky.

“Hm?” Rori murmured, pulled from her thoughts. She looked over at him, having been staring at the shelf of a nearby cabinet when he had spoken. “Oh, yeah… I was sent to get some stuff someone left here. The ferals had run them out and they dropped their shit. I came to get it. I was…” She paused, and a small smile crossed her face, though she shook her head and looked somewhat embarrassed.

“I don’t like killing ‘em. The ferals. So… I was trying to stay away from them. Keep them from noticing me so i wouldn’t have too, and I was doing alright until… wait –” Rori cut herself off, her brows furrowing as she remembered just how the feral had found her.

“What were you doing out there with the ferals?”

“If you’re more worried about the one strip of jerky I had, I say we don’t wait at all,” John laughed and winked at her before his head fell back against the wall.

It was a bit of a surprise to hear that she didn’t like killing ferals. Typically, people didn’t have any qualms about shooting them, seeing them as a nuisances and little more. It was a refreshing change of pace.

Ramona walked into the Third Rail, smoothing out her red dress she’d put on just for tonight.  It was her first night in Goodneighbor, and she’d already met the sweet mayor Hancock.  She didn’t know much of the politics in the Commonwealth, but they actually seemed worse than the Mojave’s version of politics.  Which was fine.  She needed to get away from the Mojave, and thankfully, there was a caravan headed towards the Commonwealth.  For bluer skies.

She went to sit at the bar next to another man—a ghoul—and she smiled at him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes.  “Hey, sweetheart.  You got a light?”