Regular Debbie/Dialogue

==XPD_Dialogue_RegularDebbie==
#	Dialog Topic	Form ID	Response Text 	Script Notes
 	 	 	I'm not shy. Let's do it. 	
 	 	 	Better'n most. I don't think anybody's super-comfortable with me, ghoul and all, but nobody's given me any grief. 	
 	 	 	I've seen 'em take in other ghouls and help 'em out, same as any smoothskin, so they've got the right attitude, no matter how they feel. 	
 	 	 	That ain't common. Ain't the same as people not actually bein' afraid of you, of course. 	
 	 	 	But you deal with the hate and fear long enough, just bein' tolerated starts to feel like kindness. Messed up, right? 	
 	 	 	The Refuge? It's...somethin' else. A good idea, I guess. Weird as hell, though - settin' this up inside some fancy-ass golf resort. 	
 	 	 	I imagine the faces of the rich jagoffs who used to come here, just mad as hell at all these poor bastards dirtyin' up their little playground. 	
 	 	 	Puts a smile on my face. Hated those types, back when "rich" was a thing that meant anything. 	
 	 	 	I admire what's bein' done here. Someone tried somethin' like this in the Pitt and they'd be ransacked before the week was out. 	
 	 	 	I don't have crushes. If I'm interested, I'm interested, and if I want to do something about it the person's gonna know. 	
 	 	 	Now, if you're askin' if I'm into Rucker? Nah. We ain't there yet. Wouldn't say no if it was her idea, but nothin' there I'm gonna pursue. 	
 	 	 	You keep askin' about this and I might think you're jealous. Don't worry, there's enough Debbie to go around. 	
 	 	 	Nah. I mean, a bit, but it ain't like we had any deep conversations or nothin'. 	
 	 	 	She's funny, when she wants to be. Usually too tired or busy to let herself, but it's there. 	
 	 	 	Cute, too. Not as good lookin' as me, naturally, but I wouldn't kick'er out of bed for eatin' crackers. 	
 	 	 	Reminds me a bit of me. I've seen her organizin' this place. Hard worker. Always runnin' around, making sure everything gets done right. 	
 	 	 	I respect that. She could stand to take a break, though. 	
 	 	 	You sure love the gossip. 	
 	 	 	I could pick Orlando up and break 'em in two if I thought that. Nah, dangerous ain't the right word. Clever. Suspicious. 	
 	 	 	Somethin's goin' on there, is all. Catch 'em sometimes, when nobody's lookin' and they ain't know you're there. 	
 	 	 	That smile falls off and their face just goes kinda dead, like they just shut off when they're alone. 	
 	 	 	Sometimes, though...they just look...sad. 	
 	 	 	No clue. I mean, I can get the willies off them all I want, but they are legit helpin' here. That's a weird way to be sinister. 	
 	 	 	But that stuff has gotta come from somewhere, and there's a lot of it. There's gotta be an agenda there. 	
 	 	 	I thought maybe it was some long-con sabotage, taint the food or whatever, but that makes no sense. 	
 	 	 	Place'd probably fall apart without the stuff they supply. Maybe that's worth worryin' about by itself. That's Rucker's problem, though. 	
 	 	 	Eh...that's a bit strong. More like I just don't trust 'em. Too friendly, too fake, never gives you a straight answer. 	
 	 	 	All that "Management" crap. I don't buy it - you ever hear of rich folks just givin' away their stuff out of pure generosity? 	
 	 	 	That sit right with you? Me neither. Somethin's goin' on there. 	
 	 	 	Not really. They come by sometimes, but it's all bullshit small talk. "Lovely to seeeee you, dahhhling. Are you com-fort-able?" 	
 	 	 	All smiles and fake chumminess. It's like...the smile doesn't reach their eyes, you know? Just a put-on. 	
 	 	 	Creeps me out, and yeah, I realize I'm a ghoul sayin' that. 	
 	 	 	Now there's an odd duck. Sketchy, if you ask me. Never trust anybody that smiles that much. 	
 	 	 	Half the time I can't tell if they're tryin' to sell me somethin' or get me into bed. 	
 	 	 	Can't blame 'em, though. I know I'm a looker. 	
 	 	 	Good guy, pretty gung-ho about the Union. Got me into it in the first place. A bit crazy. 	
 	 	 	Just don't stand too close if he starts talking about his inventions and wants to show you somethin'. 	
 	 	 	Skip helped me out of a jam. I might've mentioned, before the Union I sometimes did jobs as hired muscle. 	
 	 	 	The details ain't important, but let's just say things were lookin' bad for Debbie. Then, ZZAP! 	
 	 	 	Two goons are a foot shorter and there's Skip, askin' if I was okay. Wasn't even involved, just saw what was happenin' and helped. 	
 	 	 	Found some whiskey on one of the goons so we went and got drunk together. Always a good start to a friendship. 	
 	 	 	Hah! Skip tells 'em better, but yeah, I got some. Dude's crazy. 	
 	 	 	There was the "Fireproof Suit" he made. Never known anybody that catches fire so much. Careless with the welder or somethin', I guess. 	
 	 	 	So he builds this jacket, right? Straps all these fire extinguishers inside jury-rigged with some kinda trigger hooked to a fuse thing in the seams.	
 	 	 	The idea was it'd set them all off at once and soak him. 'Cept he got distracted and used foam canisters, so when he goes to test it, FOOM! 	
 	 	 	He comes slidin' out of his workshop on a wave of foam lookin' like a bathub Santa, complete with bubble beard and hat! 	
 	 	 	Who now? 	
 	 	 	He's the "Brotherhood of Steel" guy, right? That sounds like the name of a Pitt gang. 	
 	 	 	Anyway. Nice kid. Real nosy, lotsa questions, but he ain't rude about it. Says he's just here to "observe". 	
 	 	 	But I see him helpin' out here sometimes anyway. I think he's just got a kind heart. Weird that he joined some military gang. 	
 	 	 	You know what? I ain't even sure that guy's actually Italian. That whole "mamma mia" routine seems like an act. 	
 	 	 	Still, he's pretty funny, and he's sometimes sellin' some interesting things. 	
 	 	 	Tall, Irish, and brooding? We've shared some drinks a few times. Don't know about the Hellcats, but Liam's a real soldier. 	
 	 	 	I had family that served. It's somethin' in their eyes, when they've been "in the shit", like they say. Liam's got it. 	
 	 	 	Still, I'd give 'im a go if I thought he'd be up for it. Not sure I'm his type. It'd give him something to talk about besides huntin', anyway. 	
 	 	 	Don't know her, really. She's always up on the roof with the vertibird, I guess. Only comes down for meals, and not always that. 	
 	 	 	Ask me, though - anybody that'd fly a thirty-year-old rewired bucket into the Pitt, more than once - she's gotta be nuts. 	
 	 	 	Nosy, ain't ya? 	
 	 	 	Yeah, all right. Anything in particular? 	
 	 	 	How so? 	
 	 	 	Whatever floats your goat. 	
 	 	 	Hee hee. It kills me every time I hear it. "Apple-at-cha". Oh, let me have my fun. 	
 	 	 	Came down with Skippy. He was lookin' to find support for the Union fight back home, and I figured he'd need some backup. 	
 	 	 	Didn't hit much in the way of sizable settlement until we got down here. Just scattered farms and raider gangs - not very friendly. 	
 	 	 	This place was paydirt. Hope so, anyway. 	
 	 	 	Like I said, came down to help Skippy. The Union's outnumbered. You and this vertibird can make a real difference. 	
 	 	 	Plus, it was a chance to see what's left out here. Yinz don't know how good you have it - Pitt's a crater. 	
 	 	 	Not that I could stay here. I've got Steel City in my blood. That, and a lot of radiation and heavy metals. 	
 	 	 	I mean, look. Not going to lie, getting out of the Pitt for a while was part of it. It's bad there. 	
 	 	 	Nowhere's good for ghouls, the Pitt's no different. 	
 	 	 	But you get tired of your "friends" giving you that "are you going to eat me" look. Bugs me less when strangers do it. 	
 	 	 	Hang on a sec, I never said I didn't like it! I mean, sure, it's a toxic hole full of bloodthirsty gangs running decrepit half-working foundries. 	
 	 	 	And people will shove you off a roof if they think you've got any food on you that'll survive the fall... 	
 	 	 	Okay, and maybe a ghoul is stuck between a bunch of smoothskins who can't decide whether to shoot you or chain you up to work. 	
 	 	 	But, y'know. It's home! Born and raised. And Debbie ain't giving it up without a fight. 	
 	 	 	Honestly? Safe. 	
 	 	 	Look, yeah, it wasn't safe before them. People were still making gangs and fighting each other all the time. 	
 	 	 	But maybe we can learn from the Union. Like the real ones, before the bombs. Working together, for all of us. 	
 	 	 	A place we can all live. Humans and ghouls. Half of 'em are gonna be us in decade or two anyway. 	
 	 	 	All right, enough of this mushy stuff. 	
 	 	 	Sure thing, pal. 	
 	 	 	What do you think? It's a wreck. Bombed all to hell and half what's left standin' is nearly as radioactive as the craters. 	
 	 	 	A lotta what's left is old industrial stuff. Factories, foundries, that kinda thing. Big, solid buildings held up better in the blasts. 	
 	 	 	As for the people? Stay away from the Fanatics unless you want a fight. Everyone else is either Union, scared, or both. 	
 	 	 	A lot don't. I know what you're askin', relax. Like I said, a good amount of the industrial stuff in the city held up okay. 	
 	 	 	Lots of the people left around worked those kinds of jobs, so we could even get them running again. Make things. 	
 	 	 	The Pitt my be the only place left still manufacturing stuff. Can't eat steel, but you can trade the stuff you make from it. 	
 	 	 	So far we can get enough food in exchange from folks outside the city to get by. So far. 	
 	 	 	Because it's home! Same reason you ain't left West Virginia, I guess. You could just walk on out, go somewhere else. 	
 	 	 	But you stayed. Despite all the crazy animals and the scorched and what not. Aliens, too, somebody told me! That for real? 	
 	 	 	Anyway. The Pitt might be a wreck, but it's our wreck. 	
 	 	 	Yeah. Sick people all over. Water's bad, ground's bad. Building's are bad, some of 'em. 	
 	 	 	Lotsa ghouls, too, like yours truly, but you start referrin' to ghouls as bein' sick near me and I'll knock you out. 	
 	 	 	Weirder stuff, too. I've seen some people...changing. Not like ghouls. Somethin' else. Not a great sign. 	
 	 	 	Listen, this place is pretty swank and the trees outside are real pretty, don't get me wrong, but the Pitt's home. 	
 	 	 	Concrete and steel are what I know. Plus, I'm pretty much immune to all the rads and toxic shit, so I ain't got nothin' to worry about. 	
 	 	 	'Cept the Fanatics, sure, all right. Still. This is a vacation. The city is home, even if it is a heap of rubble. 	
 	 	 	Naturally. 	
 	 	 	I'm here all week. Month? However long it's gonna take. Shoot. 	
 	 	 	Want the unvarnished lowdown, huh? Smart of you to recognize who to ask. Shoot. 	
 	 	 	Suit yourself, pal. I didn't start this little talk. 	
 	 	 	Bucko, talking about the Union is practically my job. What do you want to know? 	
 	 	 	Mind? Nah, I got nothin' to hide. Hey, I got no hide, either! 	
 	 	 	Get it? 'Cause I'm a ghoul? You're no fun. Anyway, go ahead. 	
 	 	 	Name's Debbie. Folks call me Regular Debbie. Just roll with it. 	
 	 	 	I'm here representing the Pitt Union, backing up ol' Skippy over there. 	
 	 	 	If you're interested in helping out, I might have work for you from time to time. 	
 	 	 	And if not, well...I don't mind takin' a break to have a chat, either. 	
 	 	 	No problem. Keep your skin on. 	
 	 	 	I said just roll with it. 	
 	 	 	Maybe we get to know each other better, we can get into it. But not yet. 	
 	 	 	Group of jagoffs calling themselves "Fanatics" are taking over the Pitt, forcing folks to work for them and killing anyone that refuses. 	
 	 	 	The Union's kind of a loose confederation of gangs and factories working together to turn 'em back. 	
 	 	 	That's what I'm here for. 	
 	 	 	Of course you are. 	
 	 	 	You know what? We're friendly, so I'm gonna let this slide. This time. 	
 	 	 	I ain't need to be a feral to beat you senseless. We're done having this conversation. Let's talk about something else. 	
 	 	 	Are you messin' with me right now? That's...uh... Not a proposition I get a lot. 	
 	 	 	I mean, when people say I'm hot, they usually mean the rads. 	
 	 	 	I won't lie - I ain't opposed to the idea. I got pretty broad tastes and you're not bad lookin'. 	
 	 	 	You for real? This some kinda fetish thing? 	
 	 	 	Ain't mad. You're all right. I know you're not tryin' to be mean. 	
 	 	 	Not the kind of joke a lot of ghouls'd find funny though. We don't all have my great sense of humor. 	
 	 	 	Screw you! You should be so lucky - I'd give you a makeover and make you pretty as me. 	Amused - laugh after the "screw you".
 	 	 	I like you, so I'm gonna take that as a joke. It had better be. Just don't push it. 	
 	 	 	Ha! You should be scared! Might be not be a feral but I can knock you over no problem. You watch. 	
 	 	 	I'm kiddin'. Well, it's true, but I'm not gonna do that. I like you, too. You've been straight with me, and helpful, too. 	
 	 	 	It does help, yeah. Doesn't change that I am what I am, but it helps. Thanks. 	
 	 	 	Hard? Yeah, you could say that. Nobody's had it easy, but you smoothskins ain't gotta deal with lookin' like this. 	
 	 	 	I make myself useful, I kick the ass of anybody that gives me too much grief, I get by all right. 	
 	 	 	But you get reminded, every day, even if you don't look at yourself. 	
 	 	 	Even your friends look at you sometimes and you can see 'em wondering: "Is today the day your brain shuts off and eat my face?" 	
 	 	 	That never goes away. 	
 	 	 	Whew! Never figured I'd be havin' this much fun in West Virginia. 	
 	 	 	Anything else on your mind? 	
 	 	 	I should kick your ass. Some jokes aren't funny. 	
 	 	 	It ain't easy, lookin' like this. What you just did is cruel. 	
 	 	 	Not the first time. I'll get over it. Just...never do that again. 	sigh at the top - calming yourself down
 	 	 	Change the subject. Now. 	
 	 	 	It better not be! 	
 	 	 	Yeah...yeah, you're probably right. 	
 	 	 	Crazy idea anyway. Yeah. All right... 	
 	 	 	Well, that's more awkward than I can take. Let's talk about literally anything else, yeah? 	
 	 	 	That was...nice. That ain't a knock against you. I just mean it's been a while. Nice is good. 	
 	 	 	Maybe we can spend some more time together. Later, though. 	
 	 	 	I gotta say, I like you, but I didn't see this comin'. 	
 	 	 	What the hell. This is a pretty big place. Let's see if we can find some privacy. 	
 	 	 	Who isn't? 	
 	 	 	No problem. 	
 	 	 	Argue, mainly. It's all different groups working together, like I said, and not everybody shares the same viewpoints. 	
 	 	 	When we do manage to go in the same direction, we do stuff like move supplies and weapons where they're needed. 	
 	 	 	Sometimes we make raids on places the Fanatics control; steal supplies, wreck their machines, or just hit-and-run to thin their numbers. 	
 	 	 	That, and try to get people to join up and take a stand against those assholes. 	
 	 	 	Sure thing, Skip's great. 	
 	 	 	Hit me. 	
 	 	 	Such as? I don't know everybody that well. 	
 	 	 	You got a lot of questions, don't you? 	
 	 	 	Suit yourself. 	
 	 	 	Ha. Yeah. Guess I do, at that. Buncha idiots, most of 'em, but so am I, at the end of the day. 	
 	 	 	Things got ugly, after the bombs. Cutthroat. Violent in a way you ain't seen here. Even your Raiders aren't maniacs. 	
 	 	 	The Fanatics are all the people that thrived in that mess, buildin' an empire on everyone else's backs. 	
 	 	 	The Pitt's still a mess, but I ain't going back to the way it was. Union's the only other option now. 	
 	 	 	Course it's unstable. It's all desperate people in a ruined city tryin' with someone always tryin' to kill or enslave us. 	
 	 	 	Don't exactly make for calm decisions in everybody's best interests. But it's also kinda the point. 	
 	 	 	Situation like that, nobody can survive apart. The Union could collapse any day, but it's also the only chance of winning. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, over all kinds of stuff. In the early days, it was mostly fights over the strategy the Union should be taking against the Fanatics. 	
 	 	 	Lot of folks wanted to hunker down, fortify what they can, try to outlast 'em. They've got the numbers but we've got more expertise. 	
 	 	 	Others wanted to take the fight to the Fanatics - run the kind of raids I mentioned. Everybody wanted to be in charge. 	
 	 	 	Right now, the aggressive argument's winnin'. If we just let the Fanatics get stronger, no amount of defense is gonna cut it. 	
 	 	 	Look, there's basically two teams in the Pitt right now: the Fanatics - a bunch of jagoff murdering slavers - and us. The Union. 	
 	 	 	They've been taking over the Pitt, one crew at a time, and no group is big enough to resist on their own. 	
 	 	 	So a bunch of us got together. Independent factory crews, gangs...and we're working with each other to hold back the Fanatics. 	
 	 	 	Still outnumbered, but we're holding. That's why we're here - to find help. 	
 	 	 	Just seemed like a good idea. I hate the Fanatics, and you gotta do something, and they were the only ones doing it, so... 	
 	 	 	So when I met Sunny, and he starts talkin' up this new Union, I think, "What the hell." 	
 	 	 	I used to be an actual union rep, y'know, before the bombs. Good at it, too. Never afraid to go to the mat against the managers. 	
 	 	 	Job's a little different than before - fewer strikes, more firefights - but I still got the knack. 	
 	 	 	Mostly I'm good at cuttin' through the arguments, gettin' everybody to pull in the same direction. 	
 	 	 	And that's why you get my smilin' face here to drum up support. 	
 	 	 	I'd just been doin' jobs, ya know? Factory work, when I could find it. Occasional hired muscle. Whatever was around. 	
 	 	 	Ghouls have a hard time of it - not a lot of people are willing to work with you when you look like this and might eat them. 	
 	 	 	Knockin' heads together was an easier gig to get sometimes. Lookin' scary is a plus for a job like that. Made me feel gross, though. 	
 	 	 	Bein' honest? Mixed bag. I did good work, helped the other workers...had some showdowns with the bosses... 	
 	 	 	But lotta folks thought of the factories as "men's jobs". I took a lot of shit from the same jagoffs I was helping. 	
 	 	 	I don't let anybody tell me where I belong. Didn't then. Don't now. Doesn't mean it don't hurt, but... 	
 	 	 	Unions matter. They mattered then, and this one matters now. Nothing else changes that. 	
 	 	 	You should know by now, I ain't ever anythin' but honest. 	
 	 	 	If you're askin' me, "are we gonna crush the Fanatics, see 'em runnin' before us, and hear the wailin' etc. etc."... 	
 	 	 	We ain't Grognak. This ain't a comic book, and the good guys can lose. 	
 	 	 	But a chance? Maybe. Gotta try. 	
 	 	 	Sure you did. 	
 	 	 	It ain't all sunshine and roses, but go ahead. 	
 	 	 	Do you? Really? 	
 	 	 	Who wouldn't? 	
 	 	 	Back for more? 	
 	 	 	I bet. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, sounds good. 	
 	 	 	This ain't somethin' I normally talk about. I say what I think and I'll take on anyone that's got a problem with that, but... 	
 	 	 	Bein' unafraid like that isn't the same as bein'... Hell, I ain't got the words for it. 	
 	 	 	eah. I had family. Friends, too. I didn't mention it when you asked before, but the first thing I did when I got free was go looking for them. 	
 	 	 	Hopin' they'd survived, somehow. I had, why couldn't they? 	
 	 	 	Stupid. My folks...their whole block was ash. My sister's place was one blackened wall and... what was left wasn't her any more. 	
 	 	 	The bombs took everything. Everyone I cared about, my home, even my friggin' skin. This...this is all that's left. 	
 	 	 	It was...bad. A lot of the city was just...gone. Rubble, blown all over the damn place by the blasts. The rest was mostly on fire. 	
 	 	 	Not a lot of survivors, not above ground, anyway. A lot of those were sick, dying. Pukin' up their own guts, fallin' apart...worse. 	
 	 	 	I... I got by. Found places to shelter, scavenged for supplies in the wreckage, like most of the survivors. Got in some fights. 	
 	 	 	Lots of people who could, left. The rest of us who stayed started to rebuild. Some of the factories were still standing, so we got them running. 	
 	 	 	Seems stupid, maybe, but it gave us something to do. We could make things. Trade with other survivors. It's what we knew. 	
 	 	 	When you go through... After that, something that felt normal and gave living structure - you cling to that. 	
 	 	 	Not the Pitt - Pittsburgh. It only became the Pitt after all this. Anyway. 	
 	 	 	So, I told you I was in the underground part of the factory, yeah? Saved me from the initial blast. 	
 	 	 	But, radiation doesn't care. Wasn't deep enough, too close to the blast itself, I dunno. 	
 	 	 	Shoulda died, and fast, but I didn't. Didn't know why, didn't care, and I wasn't gonna wait to die of thirst or whatever. 	
 	 	 	By the time I dug free of the rubble, I was already startin' to change into the statues-cue beaut you see before you. 	
 	 	 	Lucky me, right? 	
 	 	 	The city got blown all to hell, that's what happened! What do you think happens when it gets nuked repeatedly? 	
 	 	 	Ah, relax. I know what you meant. Me, I was in the factory when it happened. One of the lower levels, actually below ground. 	
 	 	 	Only reason I wasn't instantly toast, probably. After... 	
 	 	 	Maybe when we know each other better, we can talk about that over a beer or somethin'. 	
 	 	 	"Tell me about yourself?" What is this, a job interview? A blind date? I know ol' Deb's a catch but buy me dinner first. 	
 	 	 	I mean, not a lot to tell, really. Born and raised in Pittsburgh, before the bombs. Worked in the plants, you know? 	
 	 	 	Got this extra-strength tan when they blew the city to bits. We've still got some factories workin', so, so am I. Not now, but, you get it. 	
 	 	 	And hey, I've kept my looks ever since! 	
 	 	 	Like I said. You and me work together a bit, get to know each other, maybe I'll tell you. Take the hint. 	
 	 	 	All right, fine. You might've noticed: I'm a ghoul. So I was workin' this job, and there was another Debbie, and she wasn't. 	
 	 	 	Some of the guys started calling me "Ghoul Debbie", you know, so they knew which they were talkin' about. 	
 	 	 	So I had little chat with them. The boots and fists kinda chat, you know the type. 	
 	 	 	Told 'em with all the rads around pretty soon' there'd be more of us ghouls than them. 	
 	 	 	After that, folks started calling me "Regular Debbie". I thought that was pretty funny, so I let 'em. It stuck. 	
 	 	 	Eh, suit yourself. Like I said - it's funny. I'm regular and the rest of you are the freaks. 	
 	 	 	You can just call me Debbie. Friends just use my name, and I like you pretty good. 	
 	 	 	But never Deb, or Deborah! I ain't either of those, and I don't want to have a "chat" about it. 	
 	 	 	Good call. 	
 	 	 	Maybe I'll have different answers, too. 	
 	 	 	Like you wouldn't believe. Not all of them as good lookin' or as fun to talk to as me, of course. 	
 	 	 	But yeah, we got a mess. Mostly the crazy cannibal type, you know the ones, but a lot like me, too. 	
 	 	 	Odds of a person turnin' ghoul are pretty bad, but you nuke a city that hard, you're still gonna end up with a bunch. 	
 	 	 	How do you think? Everbody's scared of us, even if we talk and act just like we used to. 	
 	 	 	Some tolerate us better'n others, but mostly they think we're gonna go feral eventually. 	
 	 	 	Fanatics talked a big game, said they were different. Liars. 	
 	 	 	Ghouls that go to them end up basically slaves. Or dead. 	
 	 	 	The Union's not really any better or worse than any other group, in that regard. 	
 	 	 	It also ain't exactly one group, more like a bunch workin' together. I just happen to have some friends with pull. 	
 	 	 	Plus, I used to be an actual union rep in the pre-war days, so I'm pretty useful, when people actually listen. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, sure. You want the skinny on the Steel City, just ask. 	
 	 	 	Look at me! I'm a fancypants rich golfing jerk! Get me a dry martini, Jeeves! Heh heh heh. 	dry laugh to self
 	 	 	Those Fanatics are going to pay for what they've done...no matter what. 	
 	 	 	Hey! One of you robots get me a beer! They gotta have beer here, right? 	second sentence is to self
 	 	 	These Responders...kinda soft, but I can't fault 'em for what they're doing. 	
 	 	 	Wonder how the factory's doing? Still Union, I hope. 	
 	 	 	I swear to God, if Skippy tries to get me to test another "invention"... 	
 	 	 	Ugh, got some Cram on my arm...wait, no, that's just me. 	
 	 	 	Shame that vertibird can't do bombing runs. That'd put the fear into the Fanatics... 	
 	 	 	Hey, stranger. Ain't seen you around before. Not that everyone here ain't mostly strangers. 	
 	 	 	Hi there, pal. Business or pleasure? 	
 	 	 	Ain't bored of me yet, huh? Something you wanted to talk about? 	
 	 	 	Back again, eh? How's the Pitt treated ya? 	
 	 	 	Looks like you're still in one piece, smoothskin. What can I do for ya? 	
 	 	 	Here to see ol' Debbie again? I got some time for ya, I guess. 	
 	 	 	Seems like I pinned you right, kid! You're quite the scout, huh? Let's see what you've got here. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, this all looks good. Better than good. You're saving my wrinkled skin here. 	
 	 	 	Here, this is for you. For your troubles. 	
 	 	 	Seems like I pinned you right, kid! You're quite the scout, huh? Let me see what you got. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, this all looks good. Better than good. You're saving my wrinkled skin here. 	
 	 	 	Here, this is for you. For your troubles. 	
 	 	 	And take this for your friends. Don't think I forgot about them. 	
 	 	 	Seems like I pinned you right, kid! You're quite the scout, huh? Let me see what you got. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, this all looks good. Better than good. You're saving my wrinkled skin here. 	
 	 	 	Here, this is for you. For your troubles. 	
 	 	 	Seems like I pinned you right, kid! You're quite the scout, huh? Let me see what you got. 	
 	 	 	Yeah, this all looks good. Better than good. You're saving my wrinkled skin here. 	
 	 	 	Here, this is for you. For your troubles. 	
 	 	 	And take this for your friends. 	
 	 	 	Don't think I forgot about them. 	
 	 	 	I'm not going to be in Appalachia forever. 	
 	 	 	My place is at the Pitt, taking the fight up to the Fanatics' door. 	
 	 	 	Not here, twiddling my thumbs in some pre-war resort. 	
 	 	 	But there's refugees streaming in here from the Pitt every day. 	
 	 	 	I can guide them now, but what happens when I leave? 	
 	 	 	Consider it a replacement Debbie. An Irregular Debbie, if you will. 	
 	 	 	So the refugees know what will and won't shoot them. 	
 	 	 	What berries are good to eat and what berries will make you shit your guts out. 	
 	 	 	Where to go if you get cut up. That kind of thing. 	
 	 	 	Have you met that Ellison? The kid from the Brotherhood? 	
 	 	 	He'll be nipping at your heels like a puppy itching to tell you all about the Brotherhood of Steel. 	
 	 	 	He grew up in Appalachia. He can tell you anything you need to know. 	
 	 	 	Do you have a camera? Oh, well. I shouldn't have made any assumptions. 	
 	 	 	You should talk to Skippy. I think he's got a camera lying around somewhere. 	
 	 	 	Nothing crazy. Consider it like a scavenger hunt. 	
 	 	 	I'm trying to cover every region of Appalachia. 	
 	 	 	Need to be thorough, you know? 	
 	 	 	If you're not sure where to find something, just ask Ellison. I'm sure he'll be happy to help. 	
 	 	 	Oh, and before you go! It's a lot of ground to cover. 	
 	 	 	If you can get a scouting party together, I'll pay you extra. The more people we got helping the Union, the better. 	
 	 	 	No pressure, though. Any help at all is greatly appreciated. 	
 	 	 	Good luck out there. 	
 	 	 	Wow, didn't realize I was speaking to the goddamn President of the United States here. 	
 	 	 	Alright Your Excellency. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. 	
 	 	 	That's what I like to hear. 	
 	 	 	Got any questions before I send you out? 	
 	 	 	Heh, question is, what's right? Seems like few things are these days. 	
 	 	 	But that's not me being a quitter, understand? I'm doing just fine. 	
 	 	 	Although...I could use some help. 	
 	 	 	I've been trying to assemble an Appalachian survival guide. Call it a legacy book for the refugees of the future. 	
 	 	 	Problem is, I'm too damn busy. And so are my people. I need a reliable scout to go out there and gather information for it. 	
 	 	 	And you look the part to me. Harvest some plants, take a couple photos. 	
 	 	 	How does that sound? 	
 	 	 	Speak to Ellison. He's probably staring at the old vertibird, knowing him. 	
 	 	 	He knows Appalachia like the back of his hand. 	
 	 	 	Talk to Skippy. He's got so many spare parts lying around. 	
 	 	 	I'm sure he must have a camera somewhere. 	
 	 	 	Sure can do. 	
 	 	 	I've been trying to assemble an Appalachian survival guide. Call it a legacy book for the refugees of the future. 	
 	 	 	Problem is, I'm too damn busy. And so are my people. I need a reliable scout to go out there and gather information for it. 	
 	 	 	And you look the part to me. Harvest some plants, take a couple photos. How does that sound? 	
 	 	 	Heh, question is, what's right? Seems like few things are these days. 	
 	 	 	But that's not me being a quitter, understand? I'm doing just fine. 	
 	 	 	Although...I could use some help. 	
 	 	 	I've been trying to assemble an Appalachian survival guide. Call it a legacy book for the refugees of the future. 	
 	 	 	Problem is, I'm too damn busy. And so are my people. I need a reliable scout to go out there and gather information for it. 	
 	 	 	And you look the part to me. Harvest some plants, take a couple photos. How does that sound? 	
Category:Expeditions: The Pitt dialogue files