Cursed wakes up the next morning, still covered in dirt and all that muck from the night before, and feeling like total death. Realising he better clean himself up quick, he dives head first into Solomon’s pond to have a fast as hell wash, doing his best to hide from that hulking super mutant behemoth that is resting at the base the bank nearby. After getting out of the water, he looks down at his reflection, “Fuck … my skin is… blistered, and it is rotting off… fuck no, not this”
Cursed knows something has fucked up, maybe that bastard Hazard-Dezz sold him some dud Radshield, maybe his damaged suit was more fucked than he thought, maybe that’s what tipped the scales into being close to rad freak feral ghoul territory. He knows now there is only one person who can help him, that new Vulture Doc he’s only met once or twice, that weird deformed beaked one they call “The Quack”.
It took about half a day for Cursed to reach the Quack’s surgery and druggy bar. By the time he got there he was tired as fuck and in need of a stiff drink. Cursed walks up to the barkeep, and demands “A whiskey now, for a Vulture”. The Barkeep then nervously pours & places the drink down in front of Cursed. “Fetch me the Quack!!” he shouts to the terrified barkeep.
The doctor, the Quack enters the bar, and stares at the random unknown ghoul in disgust, he then shouts, “and who the fuck are you?!”
“It’s me you insane bird man bastard, it’s me, it’s Cursed”
“No, you’re not Cursed he’s no ghoul, look he’s definitely fucked up but he’s no a ghoul!!” angrily shouts the Quack.
After several minutes of profanity and a few tales from Cursed, the Quack realises that Cursed is who he says he is, only now he a bit “different”, more ghoulish than normal.
“That Radshield you had, I too had some, it was in the left over stash from that Hazard-Dezz doc guy, turns out its nothing more than some heavily diluted Radaway and some, fucking Brahmin piss – yes, BRAHMIN PISS!!” quips the Quack.
“”Fuckkkkk, are you… fucking… serious Quack?! FUCKING COW PISS!!! If he wasn’t dead already, I’d kill that bastard & skin his corpse!!”
“Seems that weird concoction added some odd healing abilities, Cursed – you should be dead, dead and your body almost goo, I have no fucking idea how you’re not dead honestly. You need to rest, and you need to take this, YOU MUST take this new Chem I’ve found for you, it’s a crude mix between Psycho and Radshield, it will stop you going feral. You have to take it daily or you will be a risk, and we will not hesitate to shoot you if do you go feral”.
Quack then hands Cursed 2 coloured tablets, he recognizes them instantly as Calmex. “For now though you should take these too, it will help you sleep” says the Quack.
“Understood mate, understood, fucking god damn it – I’m gonna rest up now doc, I’m tired, ghoul-tired…” Cursed mutters, as he succumbs to his drug induced slumber.
“I’ll take care of you buddy, just don’t go feral on us now okay” says the Quack, then in softly spoken way with a sense of uncertainty in his tone he says “Cursed, you are now a Ghoul, they will accept you, as they did me.”