- Bethesda Softworks
- Robots HATE cowboys.
The Fallout series has some scary dedicated fans. I should know, I'm one of them.
Above Mario, above Zelda, above Halo and Metal Gear; Fallout is my favorite series of all time. Endless stretches of wasteland scorched by nuclear fire just feels comfortable for me.
That's why there's a bottle of Nuka Cola sitting on my dresser. A Vault-Tec Industries handbook on my shelf, and a Fallout Boy tattoo carved into my flesh before Mr. Ashlee Simpson started a band and gave the term an altogether less awesome meaning.
It's also why this review is appearing four days after Fallout: New Vegas went on sale. I could lie and say I've been sick, or I had a ton of other work to do, but the real truth is that I simply couldn't be bothered to stop playing the game. I've stopped eating, bathing, speaking to my family, I even call Cat by her given name instead of an adorably stupid nom de kittehbutt.
So how's about, before this game actually kills me, I lay out a wall of text on why Fallout: New Vegas has apparently become my new girlfriend?