Central Park didn't seem like a park anymore. Twelve foot walls of scrap metal laced with razor wire surrounded it. Given it's position the NCR used this as a refugee camp and kept the exact road Ares was on (for about eight blocks) safe as it was meant to be the way to it without people getting shot. The other three streets were only covered for three blocks to keep the refugees out of untrained sights. However the occasional steady addict racked up on jet could take a couple very good shots. There were always rumors that Desert rangers would come but aside from the occasional retired one it didn't happen, they were still busy sitting around watching a dam when the Legion wasn't there anymore.

However those additional two blocks could make a difference, for the man had spoken to himself a bit too soon. [A lone] fiend had come from a side street, laughing about whatever it was going through his head. "And then I stabbed my thumb into his eye but he didn't laugh along sk guess what I did?" He stopped, looking around for someone apparently before pointing his kitchen knife at the wall of a building. "I said guess! GUESS YOU FUCK!" He screams, kicking the wall and falling over. This appeared to set him back somehow because asbhe hit the ground he started laughing again.