In a display of unparalleled endurance and an apparent lack of spatial understanding, Wasteland wanderer and devoted loot enthusiast, Jake Aspinwall, has reportedly amassed a truly mind-boggling 7,000 pounds of miscellaneous junk while promising, yet again, to stop after “just checking out one more house.” Eyewitnesses in the vicinity of Circuitry Hollow have verified his precarious status as he trudges, lingering only slightly beneath the weight of his ill-gotten gains.
Aspinwall, who has become a veritable legend in the local settler community for his uncanny ability to scavenge anything that isn’t bolted down— and some things that are— was last seen attempting to squeeze yet another bent desk fan into his bulging inventory. “I swear, this time it’s just a pit stop,” Jake muttered under his breath, as he meticulously picked up what appeared to be a totally essential coffee mug with a chipped rim.
In a recent interview conducted outside a particularly ransacked abode, Aspinwall proudly shared, “It’s not hoarding if it’s for crafting.” This is a cardinal doctrine among the Player Character Religion, which has seen a significant rise in followers trying to rationalize their insatiable desires to possess anything and everything. Upon inquiry, why he’d need 56 clipboards and an entire living room set stripped off from Bandit Bunker No. 3, Jake retorted, “Well, wait till you need an upgrade for your Plasma Gun, then we’ll see who has the last laugh. Besides, they could be vintage!”
Local mutants, whom we were unable to reach for comment due to their understandable preference for antagonism over discourse, reputedly live in fear of Jake’s approach, often leaving ‘Please Loot Here’ signs in the hopes of quenching his voracious thirst for every item under the irradiated sun. Fallout 4 expert and reluctant stakeholder, Oliver McScurry, noted, “At this point, it’s less a question of what he’s carrying and more a concern about if the server can even handle it. We’re looking at unprecedented levels of ragdoll physics here.”
Meanwhile, a petition circulating among traders in Diamond City urges that Jake should really be more considerate about their limited storage capacities when he inevitably arrives, ready to offload all manner of tarnished silverware for caps his inventory can’t actually fit. Until such matters are settled, Jake Aspinwall remains an unwavering beacon of excess, a lesson to all in the land of Fallout: you can never have too many bent bobby pins or rust-encrusted coffee pots when facing down the truly unknown horrors of the Commonwealth.
