Let’s face facts, leaving all the companions in Fallout 4 together in one place is just asking for constant firefights, fist fights, and hair pulling (Deacon’s a dirty fighter) – so, of course, I do it all the time. Here’s a little play about how all them sitting down to share a meal would go.
[Setting: interior and partial exterior of dilapidated home. Lone table with chairs piled around it.]
Cait: Oi, what’s for breakfast? I’m properly starving over here.
Codsworth: Mum, I’ve just put the kettle on and have sliced up a small fruit tray for you. The porridge is just about set and a rasher of bacon is on the griddle.
Cait: What are you on about?
MacCready: The bucket of bolts means it’s thrown a pot of radiated water onto the fire and ground up all the tato blossoms it could find into this soupy muck.
Cait: I ain’t having with that shit. Give me some real food. I’m hungry enough to go ghoul.
Hancock: You know, I could help with that.
Danse: Attempt to eat any of us and I will fill your filthy freak head with bullets.
Hancock: Dishing up what you can’t take again there tin can? I’d like to see you bat that fat lip around outside of your power armor.
Piper: I don’t think he ever takes it off, not even to sleep. Is that healthy, to spend so much time inside all that metal?
Valentine: I never had much trouble, but then I don’t sleep neither.
Danse: You’re all being insubordinate.
MacCready: The tin can’s mad we aren’t jumping to attention. Yes, Sir. No, Sir. Know what I think. I bet he can’t get it up outside of his metal suit.
Danse: That’s none of your…
Curie: Oh, does Messier Danse suffer from a debilitating vertical malfunction? I could consult with some of ze wandering scientists and…
Preston: No, it’s a joke. An inside joke that I don’t want to explain…ever.
Curie: Ah, jokes. Yes, zay are very important for the mental health of your subjects. I know one. A vault-tec employee walks into a bar and says “Owe, I didn’t tell ze Mr. Handy to install a bar there.”
Preston: That was a…good try.
Cait: I don’t give a bloody rats arse about your jokes or Danse’s stick problem.
Danse: I do not have any…
Cait: Just get me some god damn food already!
Strong: Here! Strong deliver! [Meat collapses onto the table, rattling it]
MacCready: Is that…half a brahmin? Where the sh…where’d you get it?
Strong: Strong find food! Eat!
Piper: It’s raw, and blood is oozing all over the table. The hide’s still on! Ugh, and are those maggots on the skin?
Valentine: I’ve never been happier to be a synth.
Hancock: Looks fine to me.
Piper: Not all of us smooth skins enjoy the taste of dead meat first thing in the morning.
Hancock: Don’t knock it until you try it.
Deacon: Pretty sure that’s a caravan strap dangling off the back there.
Preston: Where exactly did you find this meat?
Strong: Outside! Fresh! Tasty! Strong give his kingdom for a brahmin!
MacCready: You stupid, fu…idiot. You killed the caravan’s brahmin?
Strong: Weren’t using it! Strong eat!
Preston: You can’t just rip the caravan’s pack animals in half, Strong.
Strong: Why not?
Preston: It’s not nice.
Piper: Or sanitary.
Strong: Strong not find milk of human kindness? Oh…What if Strong put it back?
Hancock: Now that’d be something to see.
Valentine: Afraid that ain’t gonna work, big guy.
MacCready: The caravan’s gonna be pissed, and probably looking for answers.
Deacon: Well, if anyone asks we can say Super mutants did it.
Piper: A very big, very foul smelling super mutant.
Cait: If yer all done being complete arses, can we get to some real breakfast? My gut doesn’t get fed and I’ll be needing to punch something hard.
Hancock: I volunteer Danse.
Danse: You don’t have the right, freak.
Hancock: Right, smight. My odds are on the firecracker laying him out in the fifth round.
Valentine: Five rounds seems generous, I’d give her three. The lady doesn’t mess around.
Danse: This is–
MacCready: I’ve got to give it to Danse.
Danse: Thank you.
MacCready: His type always cheat when you’re not looking.
Danse: I would never!
Deacon: See, I’d put it at a draw. Both of them punch the other out with one final blow and then boom, out of nowhere, a deathclaw…in a vertibird.
Piper: Have you ever tried speaking one sentence that wasn’t a complete lie?
Deacon: I was hoping to get my start in the newspaper business.
Piper: What are you implying, Deacon?
Deacon: Didn’t think I was subtle enough to be implying.
Curie: Zis is most exciting. I shall have to consult my data matrices on the fight mechanics and calculate a most likely outcome…Yes, after analyzing all possible metrics I believe Cait would be triumphant.
Hancock: Ha! The lady agrees with me.
Danse: A doddering pile of pre-war tech is hardly credible.
MacCready: Danse just discredited the entire Brotherhood. That’s got to be grounds for a discharge there.
Danse: You are all highly out of line. If it weren’t for my sworn duty, why I’d–
Valentine: Get your ass smacked around by Cait?
Danse: I have suffered enough of your barbs, synth! You’re little more than scraps of old alarm clocks and coffee pots slapped together to form a face.
Hancock: Ouch, he’s got your number there, Nick.
Danse: And the filthy ghoul is even worse. Hiding behind a facade of charm and claiming to serve the people while filling the Commonwealth with addictive chems.
Hancock: It ain’t a bad way to live.
Danse: Until you finally turn feral and one of us properly puts you down.
MacCready: I doubt you’d wait for him to get peckish.
Danse: Ah, yes, the hired gun. How could I forget what little you bring to the table? For all we know you are already in the Institute’s back pocket or could be for enough caps.
Deacon: Someone’s asking to have all his fusion cores swiped and replaced with tin cans.
Danse: You are worth even less than the bumbling Mr. Handy. When the Brotherhood finds every synth you’ve placed we will cut them down as the danger they are.
Deacon: Just keep talking there tin head, maybe one day you’ll believe your own shit.
Preston: People, could we all please settle down. There’s no reason to go tearing at each other’s throats.
Cait: I. Need. Food! AH!!!! [Punches wildly]
Hancock: Shit, never expected her to lay out Codsworth like that. Hey, you okay?
Codsworth: Yes, Mum. Just experiencing some minor NUKA-COLA: A refreshing nukalear taste! Glitches. Hamsters. All should be rain as spain in the morning.
Valentine: Okay, this is all fun and games but we shouldn’t…
Strong: STRONG PUNCH!
Cait: I been wanting to have a go at the big guy for awhile now. Let’s see how this ends!
Strong: Strong smash? [Cait lays into him]
Danse: I will not stand for this insobordinat- [Hancock whacks him in the back of the head with a tv tray]
Hancock: Gimme another one, MacCready.
Danse: You will wish you’d never crawled out of the radioactive muck, freak.
Hancock: Having to look at your oozing brahmin face already did me in.
Preston: Maybe I should head back to the Minutemen…
Piper: I’m staying. Ghoul vs Brotherhood: Fight of the wasteland? Could be a great story.
MacCready: Right, makes for perfect as-…wiping material there.
Piper: You think you’re one to talk?
MacCready: Oh no, did I make the plucky reporter sad? Gonna write a little article about me?
Deacon: Like they were gonna let you into Diamond City anyway.
Valentine: You could lone him one of your little dress ups, Deacon.
Deacon: Ugh, the wig’ll come back smelling like wet merc and cheese.
MacCready: Ouch, look how much of a sh…care I give.
Piper: You’ll be flattened by the power of the press. Just you see.
MacCready: Right, I’m real sure.
[Strong grabs the table and hurls it through the air]
Strong: No talking! More Fighting!
Piper: Couldn’t have said it better myself. [Piper hauls off to punch MacCready]
MacCready: Have to be faster than- [Piper lands a blow] Fu…dge! You’re going down!
[Danse bats Hancock away. Deacon and Valentine grab both of his arms]
Curie: Does zis happen often?
Codsworth: I believe we call this a Tuesday, Mum.
Curie: Oh, delightful. I shall observe and categorize each attack. Yes, keep your hands up. That is best.
[Cait leaps onto Strong‘s back, shattering the ceiling fan]
[Hancock grabs a broken fan blade and chucks it at Danse‘s head]
[MacCready dodges Piper. She stumbles into the porridge pot]
Piper: You bastard? Do you know how hard it is to get leather clean?
MacCready: Why don’t you write about it?
Danse: You will meet whatever unholy demon created you, ghoul.
Hancock: Someone’s all talk and no execution today. Bring it, tin can.
Preston: I just wanted some breakfast.
Valentine: At least it comes with a great show. Whoa!
[Cait chucks Strong through the window, breaking the last bit of glass in the house]
[Far away the Sole Survivor watches as Strong rises from his fall and returns for more. A few warning shots break out in the house, ricocheting across the wasteland]
Sole Survivor: This is why I only take Dogmeat.