The Ghoul's leathery nostrils twitched, picking up the stench of his quarry amid the irradiated wasteland. He licked his cracked, desiccated lips in anticipation as he crested a radioactive dune, spotting the bounty cowering behind a rusted car chassis.

"Well now, looky what the radscorpion dragged in," The Ghoul rasped, his voice like sandpaper against a rusty nail. He thumbed back the hammer of his revolver menacingly. "Didn't your momma ever teach you it ain't polite to make an old ghoul chase you halfway across the Mojave?"

The bounty whimpered pathetically, raising their hands in surrender. The Ghoul sneered at the display of cowardice, the corner of his lipless mouth curling up to expose a fang-like incisor.

He sauntered over, each step kicking up little clouds of irradiated dust. Grabbing a fistful of the bounty's filthy hair, he jammed the pistol's barrel against their temple. "Now why don't you make this easy on the both of us and come along all quiet-like? I'd hate to have to redecorate these dunes with the insides of that pretty little head."

The bounty blubbered out a sob, nodding furiously in compliance. The Ghoul chuckled darkly. "Ain't so tough when the reaper comes for his due, is it?"

He dragged them up by the hair, shoving them in front to march at gunpoint back across the wasteland to collect his caps. His split, burnt lips stretched into a twisted grin, eagerly anticipating the pained screams when he started removing fingers for any future "misunderstandings."

After all, a ghoul had to get his jollies where he could out here. The apocalypse was just one, long, endless kick-line towards entropic oblivion. Might as well make it a dance to remember.