Michael B. Duff

It’s 3 a.m. outside Megaton. I’m wearing sunglasses and a dirty business suit. I’m carrying a Chinese Assault Rifle and a blaster I retrieved from an alien spacecraft.

I haven’t eaten any corpses yet, but my failed attempt at peacemaking led to the mass murder of a dozen angry rich people. I’ve killed a hundred mutants, a thousand raiders and one uppity robot, but am still considered a good person.

I have a dog. He tries to run off and get killed every 10 minutes, so I’m thinking about trading him in for a giant yellow-skinned mutant who likes to quote Zen Philosophy.

I have recently become a homeowner, after disarming a nuclear bomb in the center of town. I am mildly radioactive and I have recently broken two of my own limbs for money.

Yesterday I accidentally drank radioactive water from a toilet. Then the lady at the general store offered me money, so I went back and did it again on purpose.

I’m sitting on the hood of a ’77 Corvega, a 2077 Corvega, eating Iguana Bits and listening to the radio. Danny Kaye and The Andrews Sisters are singing a song from 1948.

The DJ is a friend of mine. He’s helping me find my dad. I left a life of comfort and safety to venture across a radioactive wasteland in search of my father. Dad likes to do science and quote Bible verses. It may seem strange to quote the Book of Revelations to a toddler, but shoddy parenting is the least of Dad’s problems.

I tried to go back to the Vault after the ghouls murdered all those rich people, but nobody was particularly glad to see me. My grade-school girlfriend lured me back there and tried to enlist me into some kind of revolution.

I helped the rebels and everybody said I was a great hero. Then my girlfriend said I was a bad influence and kicked me out forever.

I would have tried to argue with her, but I had just put six bullets in her father’s head and she wasn’t really in the mood.

I tried to flirt with this blond chick in powered armor last week but she’s not really the type you settle down with. Doesn’t really matter, I guess. I’m pretty sure that the toilet water made me sterile, and the Capital Wasteland isn’t really a place to raise kids.

The DJ says I should find my Dad and fix this machine that can save the wasteland, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to be killed and eaten by Super Mutants before that.

I saved a kid from some giant ants last week, but then I stuffed him in a personal fallout shelter and kind of forgot about him. I didn’t give him any food and he’s been in there for a really long time. I’m kind of afraid to go back.

There’s a shack in the wasteland where you can cut the fingers off bad guys and trade them for money. I killed 30 guys yesterday and I’m hoping that shack is still there. I’m trying to save up money for a jukebox.

IGN and GameSpot both picked “Fallout 3” as one of the Best Games of 2008. Bethesda has a special “Game of the Year” edition coming out on Oct. 13 that will include all the expansions. I should have saved the wasteland by then, if the Super Mutants don’t get me first.