Home, home on the plains

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 8
Gah. Hangovers are bad.
Radio is playing “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head?”
That’s pretty much how it feels after yesterday’s drinking.

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 9
Tried a Bighorner steak yesterday. That might be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth – far better than gecko or brahmin. Not only is it filling, but it makes me feel stronger and more alive.
I’ve not seen many bighorners since leaving Goodsprings, but apparently there are some that live further up in the mountain. I was too scared to try hunting them when I fled Goodsprings, but I think that meat this good is worth the risk. What’s the worst that could happen?

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 10
Dear Diary, I wish I would stop asking those rhetorical questions that turn out to be ironical in hindsight. All I wanted was a little more Bighorn Steak.
Everything seemed to be going to plan. I found a Bighorner up in the hills and I stalked it without it even knowing I was there.
I lined up the beast’s massive head in the scope of my varmint rifle and pulled the trigger.
The bullet did not kill the beast. The bullet did not greatly injure the beast. The bullet did greatly annoy the beast. Subsequent bullets did not even remotely slow the beast as it charged towards me to express its annoyance. Express its annoyance using the previously mentioned big horns
The aptly named Bighorner tore through my armour and tore me a gash that seriously threatened to let my insides outside. It sent me fleeing back to the safe house, and I was most of the way home before the creature decided to ignore me and return to grazing.

Be very, very quiet... I'm hunting a bighorner

Be vewy, vewy quiet... I'm hunting a bighorner

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 11
Yesterday demonstrated both how the Bighorner got its name and also how something so delicious is able to wonder the Mojave relatively unmolested. It could be the food of the gods, but it’s attached to a beasty that hits like the fist of an angry god.
But I’m hungry… Hungry for more Bighorn Steak!
Today I rest… for tomorrow I dine on Bighorner!

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 12
Guess what?! I got a fever, and the only prescription is more Bighorn Steak!
Today I went back, fully recuperated after yesterday’s humiliating defeat. Clearly the varmint rifle isn’t up to scratch, so this time I carried the thumping great shotgun Veronica acquired for me and I’m able to sneak right up behind one of the beasts without it knowing.
I lined up the back of its head, whispered a quick prayer to Vault Tec and pulled the trigger.
BAM! Dinner is served! Okay… so dinner needs cooked. But nevertheless, I’ve now got several large chucks of slightly-shotgun-pellet-flavoured Bighorner meat!
A short way off I saw more of the great beasts… and I figured I should see if my results were repeatable. You know… for science. Sure enough, my meat gathering method worked perfectly each time and soon my pack was over flowing with bloody trophies. The key is to run the moment you think they might be on to you. Failure to do so is… unpleasant.
The creatures themselves are actually extremely docile, so each time I kill one it feels a little like a betrayal.

Yes... yes. This is a fertile land, and we will thrive. We will rule over all this land, and we will call it... This Land.

Yes... yes. This is a fertile land, and we will thrive.
We will rule over all this land, and we will call it... This Land.

I think we should call it... your grave!

'I think we should call it... your grave!'
(I have no idea whose grave this is... but it's a good warning to stay on my toes)

Ah! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!

Ah! Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!

Ha ha ha! Mine is an evil laugh! Now DIE!

Ha ha ha! Mine is an evil laugh! Now DIE!
(Any guilt around killing peaceful animals wears off after you've done it enough times)

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 13
Went off hunting again today. Can’t see any reason to slow down the Bighorn slaughter… not when the meat is so good. You know, I’ve read in old books about animals called buffalo that used to roam about before the fall. Apparently they were hunted pretty extensively too… from what I can tell, that all worked out awesome.
Couldn’t find any Bighorners today, but did find a cave. Was altogether too full of myself and went for a peek inside. Seemed okay at first… and I was hopeful that I might find something of value. But once I took a few steps inside I spied a man-shaped blur out of the corner of my eye.
I thought it my imagination playing tricks in the dark… but then it wailed. While that caused pain and made it feel like my head would explode, it was nothing compared to the pain when it closed the gap and slashed at me with its claws. It was more than enough to convince me to leave the cave with all haste.
I suppose it might have been some kind of ghost, because when I fled the cave nothing followed me… thanks, I assume, to the noon-day sun. I’m not sure it’s the sun keeping that thing in the cave, but I figure I shouldn’t push my luck because the creature clawed at my face and my vision is swimming. I rush home before night falls.

Well this looks like a lovely place...

This looks like a lovely place...

Well... that's a mite unnerving

Well... that's a mite unnerving

Oh no, God, oh dear God in heaven...

Oh no, God, oh dear God in heaven...

Joe’s safe house diary: Day 14
It’s Scotch day!
Scotch, Scotch, Scotch – I love you.
As much as I can, I hope to accrue!

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One Response to “Home, home on the plains”

  1. Michael A. Sinclair Says:

    Firefly quotes FTW!

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