Hey everybody, this is Three Dog, your friendly neighborhood disc jockey! What's a disc? Hell if I know, but I'm gonna keep talking anyway! I first want to thank all of you for tuning in on this fine day, because today marks the beginning of a new and special segment in our daily dose of radio airwaves. Today, my children of the wastes, marks the day where three glorious years ago our beloved savior of the wastes, that Lone Wanderer, kicked the Enclave's butt right out of Project Purity and gave the Capital Wasteland and everyone in it free, clean, and oh so wonderfully tasty water. It's also been three years since anyone has seen our good Wanderer, yet also three years since there have been any reports of Enclave sightings. Good and bad news, folks, I know.

Now I know you guys want to listen to some of that great music that I, Three Dog (bow wow wow), have to offer, but in celebration of The Lone Wanderer's greatest accomplishments, we'll spend an hour together everyday learning about the life of our beloved Lone Wanderer from his days of luxury in Vault 101, to his final days seen in the Wasteland. I've made this story with the collection of memories, experiences and feelings told to me by The Savior himself, and his father, James, when the two of them were with me, here in my studio in downtown DC. Some of the Wanderer's friends and companions have also come forward to contribute to this tale, as did many of you who were touched by what He had done not too long ago, and for that as well, I'd like to thank you all. Now, grab your popcorn, take a seat by your radio and enjoy the tale I like to personally call "The Tale of a Wanderer!"

Max LeBay was born on July 13, 2258. Now, he wasn't like most kids… or maybe he was in the sense that his mom, Catherine, died shortly after he was born. Unlike many of those we knew, however, she had the fortune, if you can call it that, to die of cardiac arrest. Natural, but tragic, causes. A great loss as Catherine was a dreamer. She was a scientist that had a great vision for herself, her son, and her husband, James. A dream that she hoped she would share with all of us one day. Sadly, she left the land of the living, and her family, along with it. James would continue on with her work as best he could while raising Max. It's never easy raising a kid and doubly so alone, but James rose to that challenge as best he could. I'd say he and Catherine would've been proud of what became of their little boy.

Max lived his life in Vault 101, a nuclear fallout shelter underground made almost two centuries before he was born. Inside the Vault was very sanitary, very clean; it contained fresh food, clean water, breathable air, and immaculate living conditions, unlike out here in this godforsaken land. Outside the Vault, as we all know, is an eternal wasteland. A desolate, inhospitable land that swallows anything not prepared or fit enough to survive in it; all of it caused by a nuclear war between the United States and China that didn't even last an afternoon. Max and James were one of the few lucky ones living in the luxury of a genuine Vault-Tec Vault where what stood between them and the harsh world was a four-foot thick, gear-shaped door. All they had to do to stay in paradise was to follow one doctrine:

Nobody ever leaves Vault 101 and nobody enters.

At just one year old, Max was able to not only walk but able to get out of his own playpen! No matter how many times it happened, James would always laugh at what a daring son he had, one that was thinking of escape before he could even think about how to form words. It was around this age that Max met Amata Almodovar, daughter of the Overseer of Vault 101. Those two would become best friends for life. In hindsight, it doesn't make much sense that they wouldn't be. They were only a few months apart, there weren't that many other children in the Vault, and it was common to be around the same people most of the day. I'd be more surprised if they hated each other after all that time.

Worming out of that playpen was an early sign of the strong bond the two would have together. "Want to go play with Amata, Max? She probably woke up from her nap," James would say to his year-old son. They would walk over to the Overseer's office, Max and Amata would play together, while James and the Overseer, Alphonse Almodovar, would talk about the goings and doings within the Vault. Whether it was because he had a lot to do as Overseer, or perhaps because he never really warmed up to James the way I did, there was only ever so much time he'd let James have Max over before excusing them back to their quarters, but that couldn't stop the kids forever.

A couple years pass and the two would spend all day together. They would pretend to be roaming the world, going on adventures and fighting the mutants of the Wastes. They'd have movie nights with working holotapes; they'd read books together; they had no true worry about the world. Paradise always has a slithering snake hiding in the grass, though, and the Vault would be no exception. Since the day he could crawl, Butch DeLoria had made it his duty to berate and attack the two kids.

When Max turned ten, Amata threw him a surprise party. Streamers, balloons, party hats, there was cake, the whole shebang! Even gave the kid a Grognak comic. That Pip-Boy we'd always see Max wear was given to him at this party too, along with a few other things. What Butch gave him was a fist fight. Max was able to defend himself well enough, swinging punches as if the world would go to ruin if he didn't. One of the Vault Security Officers, a guy by the name of Herman Gomez, broke up the fight and sent Butch away, but this birthday tussle was only the beginning in a long rivalry. Stay tuned for it.

After his fight with Butch, James let Max know that he had a special surprise for him down in the Vault's reactor level. No specifics were made, no details shared, but it's all that was needed to watch Max dart out of his own party. It was then that Jonas, James's assistant and good friend, caught sight of the boy.

"What are you doing down here? You know kids aren't allowed down in the reactor level."

"I'm not a kid! I'm ten years old! Besides, my dad said you had a present waiting for me down here…"

"Well, yes we do," Jonas laughed, "in fact, it's right through this door! You have to close your eyes first!" As Max did what was told of him, James came up from behind him and lead him through a door, making sure that Max's eyes were closed tight. When they went into the room and closed the door behind them, James put something in Max's hands and said he could open his eyes again. What he saw in his hands was an old, lever-action BB gun. The room they were in had many large boxes lining the walls, some stacks reaching the ceiling, but at the far end of the room sat three targets: metal plates being held up on poles. The bull's eyes on the plates were hand-painted with red, off-center and slightly smeared where James or Jonas accidentally touched the fresh designs.

"Is this for me?"

"Yes. This whole room is yours. It's used to store old worn parts from around the Vault, but it's been deemed full so it should be safe enough. You can come down here and practice whenever you have free time. Just make sure the Overseer doesn't catch wind, or else we'll both get the ax!" James laughed. "Go ahead, take a few shots." Max went up to the edge of the range, blocked off by a couple of boxes, loaded his BB gun and shot a few rounds. Each BB he shot hit the plate dead center and made it spin full-circle on their poles. "Nice shot, kiddo!"

Jonas asked, "Do you guys' hear that?" Then, a Radroach came out tumbling out of a nearby ventilation shaft and onto the range. It was easily twice the size of James' shoes, but it luckily didn't move much.

"Be careful, son! It's a Radroach! They have a nasty bite." James began to pull Max out of the room but he resisted and loaded his toy gun. "If you're gonna shoot at it, make careful shots." Max brought up his weapon, aimed down the plastic iron sights, and shot two quick shots. The second shot blew the head off the bug, and it started to run around the room in a panic, knocking over the metal plates and some boxes. It came towards Max, but a quick kick from James sent it flying on its back. It was then that Max started to pummel the poor bug with his toy gun, swinging the stock of it down onto it with full force until it stopped twitching. Jonas peered at James. "Perhaps it's best if you don't come down here alone."

"That'll be one less roach to deal with, at least," Jonas said. "Quick! Let me get a picture with dad and the roach killer." Max felt invigorated, both because of the adrenaline and it being his first time ever killed a radroach himself. Many times, security was called to deal with radroach infestations, leaving Max to sit in the distance to watch. Wait until Amata hears this! He held up his gun fiercely, stood next to his father, and had the moment immortalized with the help of Jonas. Today, was a good day, he thought. Life is pretty good.

It wasn't long, of course, before he would bring Amata with him into his secluded area of the reactor level and show her what his father and Jonas had given him for his birthday. It took even less time before they were down there every day. Max would try to teach Amata how to shoot, but she didn't have the same knack for it Max did. Besides, she enjoyed watching him shoot just as much as he enjoyed impressing her. They then used the room as part of their adventures. Putting mutant masks made from paper on the targets, they'd imagine invasions, abductions, standoffs, and raiding parties coming for the inhabitants of the Vault, and it was up to Max and Amata to defend their home from the hordes.

The two somehow were able to conjure up these stories for a long time, well into their tween years. I suppose when you're not looking over your shoulder, expecting a raider mugging you for your caps or a yao guia gunning for your guts (and that's on a good day), it's easy to have make-believe such a prime piece of your life, but at the same time, who can blame them? I'd take a land where I can imagine some new tunes for all of you to listen to than the land where I needed a Brotherhood army outside my door every day. But that's beside the point. Point is, these crazy cats lived in their worlds, together. Always together, just the two of them.

By the time they were thirteen, the Vault was closer to a second priority than a first, though they wouldn't know it just yet. Protecting the Vault from invasions and abductions turned more specific, more personal. Soon Amata was the target, and Max the savior.

Amata would be held hostage, hands behind her back, at one end of the room, and it would be Max's job to get to her without succumbing to the game Amata laid out. By this point, Amata moved those stationary targets around, sticking them in different boxes around the room, had cut out some cardboard mutant figures, and even got a few of her old toys to act as more obstacles. She would, with Max's help, move crates around to change the layout of the course, using string to make "traps" Max could fall for, and even scenarios that changed how he would think to save her, such as her wearing a "bomb collar" that deactivated by keyword only.

No matter the obstacle, Max always started with a cheesy line and would wind up saving her in the nick of time. Normally, he'd make it past the last obstacle, take hold of Amata, do his best (which was really what is described as the worst) Captain Cosmos impression, and fly off with her to safety. One particular day ended differently.

One particular day, he made it past the final barrier, saved Amata, and put his arm around her. He looked at her to do his Cosmos line, yet for some reason couldn't. There was something different, something changed. He kept looking at her, staring, gazing into the blossoming beauty he was holding on to. She fit in his arm so well; it felt natural. Her eyes peered into him, pressuring him into looking away, but he couldn't move. Instead, she got closer.

Apprehension was on Amata's face, but the way she took his hand and wrapped her fingers around it was confident. "Max," she whispered. "I need to tell you something." All he could do under her spell was nod his head slowly.

Her lips were suddenly on his, and he tensed. They felt warm and soft. Before he could do anything else, she pulled back, looked at his flushed face for a second, then bolted out the door.

Max slowly slumped to the floor with a grand smile on his face. Butterflies flew through his stomach, and he replayed the moment over and over again, feeling her lips on his for a brief time until it didn't feel real. It couldn't have been real, he told himself. His lips felt different, however; he felt different. After some time had passed, he had reached a conclusion: It was real, what he felt was real, and what Amata felt was real.

He wrapped his arms around himself and smiled tight. It was real, and it was good.

Life is good.