This is the story...

Of a man...

Who was tired of injustce...

And felt it neccessary...

To take it upon himself...

For the sake of cleanliness...

And go the distance...

Its a story of adversity, triumph, and failure...

This...

Is...

The...

Story...

Of...

A...

Trashman.

Trashman Sam

Clyde's Corner was a rusty shack not too far from the Vegas strip. Because of the convenient turism, it attracted much attention at first, reeling in as much as 100 caps worth in caps and NCR dollars alike.

This was, however, short lived due to the poor customer service or lack thereof. At first the counters were manned by a robot Securitron at the front, while the actual sentinent lifeform in charge sat in the back resting. Unfortnately though, one day the robot was destroyed and salvaged by a group of ruffians, including what litle stock he had that was of actual purpose and value. With nothing realy to sell, the man (whose name he demaded not to be revaled) did what any respectable savvy businessman would do and went gambling at the casinos to make it big, leavng his shack (that is, CLYDE'S Corner) and its wares unattended (of these fine wares thee just happened to be brand new gloves, goggles, and a trash stick and bag). This is where our man comes in.

The Mojave Wasteland is a large place, filled with tons of places and people, and trash. New Vegs is said to be thebigest and most populated place left in Nevada (nobody knows really, because big towers and flashing lights against a post apocolyptic backdrop don't stand out much). Trashman Sam has heard of such a place, and has been en route since, for he has a score to settle, and New Vegas is the basket...er endzone.

TO BE CLEANED CONTINUED