"Good morning, dear viewers! This is your beloved House! Before we interrupt with the news, please allow me to offer my highest respects to our great city lord!"
"Clear Spring City remained peaceful today. Out of fear of us, those primitives with pythons tattooed on their faces began fleeing east! What a shame. If they came here, I'd have liked to interview those brainless fools... Heading south? What were they thinking!"
"It wasn't just the raiders who trembled before our mighty military strength. Our neighbors to the north did too. Those clumsy fools who got caught up in the Wave recently ended up battered and bruised fighting the little thugs farther north. Now they're hiding in the sewers, licking their wounds."
"What a pathetic bunch. Tsk, tsk. But recently, their heads finally started working. They sent their city lord—the city lord of that Dawn City or whatever—to our City Hall to negotiate with us."
"Looks like they finally realized that, in the wasteland, attaching yourself to the strong is the only way to survive!"
An old radio sat on the counter of some nameless tavern. Its dust-covered speaker blared an agitating voice.
"Voice of Boulder City" had always been Boulder City residents' favorite program. After all, there were only so many signals one could pick up in the wasteland.
The station played pre-war classical music around the clock, occasionally interrupting it with one or two news reports from Mr. House or segments on "How to Get Rich." It satisfied the residents' need for entertainment while giving those fond of daydreaming material for their fantasies.
However—
Not everyone was pleased by that shrill, duck-like voice.
Especially those whose lives were going poorly.
"Can't that bastard shut his bird beak?"
After taking a swig of beer weaker than water, the man in