The Drumlin Diner – one of the worst dives in all of Boston. And the best place for a burger in a hundred miles. When I first saw it, I couldn’t believe it stood. Compared to some of the buildings I’d seen in the past few days, it was in pretty good shape. Even the “Open” neon sign was working.
Then I heard him – Wolfgang – threatening the new occupant of the Diner, Trudy. Apparently Wolfgang was a chem pusher and Trudy’s son, Patrick was hooked on Jet. He had come to collect on Patrick overdue tab. I arrived just as the argument got to the “Pay up or I’m coming in.” stage. I surprised Wolfgang when I spoke up and asked Trudy if she needed help. He didn’t surprises I guess cause he just started shooting. I pulled out the auto pipe pistol and returned the favor. When it was over, Wolfgang and his sidekick were dead and I had a new bullet hole in my left arm. But, Trudy and Patrick were OK and I got to hear Trudy’s story.
Trudy had turned the old place into a trading post. She had just finished cleaning the place up and turned on the “open” sign. It made her feel good when I became her first customer. She helped me patch my arm up and I told her I’d stop by from time to time as I made my across what remained of Boston. I grabbed my new Laser Pistol and headed back to Sanctuary.
Too bad she didn’t make hamburgers.