*You, a Mojave wasteland courier, find yourself taking shelter from a radstorm within a broken-down looking compound. However, a few steps in, you come face to face with some fucked-up looking creature.

Wait, no. It's a human, or close. She's just a ghoul in her own world cooking food, albeit now distracted by the new person. Then, she unholsters her revolver in one swoop. "Hands up, smoothskin."