Chapter 2: Judgment Will Prevail, The Hangman Is Here
Alright, I've got to fight the impulse for now. Need to find that robot that dug me out of that gr-

OKAY, JUST SNEAK UP ON ME, THAT'S FUCKING FINE.


Oh, alright. Thanks for not leaving me buried and dead.

You should look into faith healing services, since you can apparently resurrect people from the dead.
Now that that's out of the way, I'm gonna go hit up the store, see if he's got some booze or a weapon.

I wonder how many people are going to tell me they thought I was dead on this little misadventure.
So what do you got?

Fuck proletariats, fuck ammo, I want a good shovel.
Wait, is that..?
Yes.

YES.
Now to head to the saloon, I think the doc mentioned someone who could help me out while I'm recovering.

Oh awesome, you're just right here at the front door to greet me then.
So... help?

Be right out.
I need to take care of some business first.

When the bartender is away, the thieving bitch will play.

Soda's good, but I'm looking for something with a little more kick.

Let's see if I can get this safe open.
With a computer that should have stopped working 200 years ago.

HOLY shit that was too close.

Hail to the Queen, baby.

Alright, so what are we doing back here, shooting at bottles?

I... I was joking. Can I go hit them with my shovel?
No, I guess that would be too easy.

I could use a little work-out, sure.

Alright, let's go.

Imagine some inspiring battle music. Something concerning valkyries and the flight thereof.

Sneakery? I don't do sneakery, Sunny.
I do pain.

Come to mama, you scaly bastards.

WOW, those things died fast.

So does the next batch.
This is boring.

And now someone's in danger. My apathy has reached an all-time high.
On the other hand, she's actually pretty cute.

Please, no need to thank me, or throw yourself at my feet in gratitude.

Wait, I could do with a little gratitude, shit. Don't just walk away.

Oh piss off, Sunny.

Alright, let's go see if the bartender has reappeared.

She has, and it looks like she has a friend.

What a charming greaseball.

I'm a pretty big deal, I guess.
What was with the dickhead in the body armor?

Fun. Sounded like he was looking for someone named Ringo?

So what's gonna happen?


What, you don't like a little excitement? You seem like a tough gal.
Ringo's problem, then. What do you know about those jokers that shot ME? Don't tell me you're neutral about THAT.

'at a girl.

Wow, what a cock.
Where were they headed?


Finally, someone gives me some information I can pursue.
How about I take a look at that radio?

Alright, let's crack this thing open and-
Wait, there's a wire loose. That's it?

That's it. Fuck, Trudy, YOU could have fixed this.

Awesome, now to give you these caps right back.

YES, I WILL TAKE ALL THE BOTTLES PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

Oh hey, I'm getting better at stuff.

It's like I'm at a whole new LEVEL.

Maybe I'll go talk to this drummer now that I've had a few shots.

Ha ha ha ha ha.
Ringo, do you see this shovel?
Would you like to know how it would feel to have it replace your dick?

That's what I thought.
So you've got some prick searching town for you.


How do you think they'd handle...
A shovelfight?

Don't be a pussy.
Fine, who do I need to talk to?

Yeah, she taught me how to shoot, I guess. Even though I don't really prefer bullets.

Well look what we have here.

And look what we have HERE.

Jackpot.

Back to Sunny.

I guess. That Beatles guy said he could use our help with-

Wait what.

Well alright then, let's go-

Shooting holes in my enthusiasm already, huh?

Hey Trudy, a little help?

Wait just a second, I've got a feeling you won't agree to this so easily.

There we go.

And it's all thanks to the books at my local library.

Alright, now we're gonna need some big booms as well.

You seem like a man who knows his way around heavy explosives.

Well I guess I'll have to go find my own nitroglycerin, diatomaceous earth, and sodium carbonate.
Or you know, you could just give me your fucking dynamite.

Good man.

Now to see if Chet's got any extra armor laying around.

Hey Chet, I'm here to loot your store.
Better me than those dynamite-wielding psychos, right?

Glad to see you've seen my wisdom.

Your limp dick probably can't even shoot straight.

Last stop, gonna go see if the doc can help out at all.

Gramps, you have perfected the brooding loner look.
Bravo.

It's not so much that I'm hurt now. But I'm not feeling so hot about my immediate future.
Powder Gangers are here.

Appreciate it, old man.
Time to go tell Ringo his booty is bulletproof.

Sunny, Chet, Trudy, Gramps, somehow older and more explosive Gramps, and a few other townies, yeah.

Hooray.

I'll take a slightly more straight-forward approach, if you don't mind.
Try not to shoot me in the back.

Of course, on second thought, it might be a good idea to handle dynamite-chuckers with my own explosive ordnance.

This is gonna be good.

BOOM, MOTHER FUCKERS.

HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW, COCK SUCKERS?

Hey, Joe.
Where you going with that gun in your hand?

HEY, JOE.
WHERE YOU GONNA RUN TO NOW?

Fat lot of good that bulletproof vest did you, fucking moron.

Thanks, but I bet I can get more cheddar looting these idiots' corpses.

Oh yes.

OH HELL YES.

Dear Diary,
I know I just woke up from getting shot in the head and all, but I'm pretty sure this sweet hat makes this the best day ever.