Alright, so here we are in the dusty, weird world of the Mojave Wasteland. If you’ve ever wandered around Fallout: New Vegas, you’ve probably heard the name Mr. House tossed around like he’s some kind of ghost story. But nah, he’s very real—well, as real as a 200-year-old dude hooked up to a bunch of wires can be. I mean, this guy’s basically the Big Boss of New Vegas, pulling strings from his tower while you’re out dodging raiders and weird radioactive bunnies.
Anyway, here’s the kicker: Mr. House isn’t just some random warlord or mob boss. He’s a techno-genius, a business magnate, and kinda the last man standing with a plan that doesn’t involve throwing molotovs or yelling a lot. I learned the hard way that underestimating him is like thinking a casino slot will pay out every time—it just won’t happen, buddy.
The Early Days of Mr. House: Not Your Average Billionaire
Let me tell y’all something—before the bombs dropped and turned America into a giant ashtray, Robert House was already cooking up some wild stuff. He wasn’t just rich; he was the kinda genius that makes nerds jealous. Born in 2020 (yes, the year that sounds like a bad sci-fi movie), he went to this fancy tech school called the Commonwealth Institute of Technology—think MIT, but with fewer caffeine-fueled all-nighters.
He founded RobCo Industries, which, trust me, changed the world way before it went up in nuclear smoke. The guy invented:
- The Pip-Boy (that nifty wrist gadget you wear in the game).
- Securitrons (those scary robot guards that look like they came straight outta Terminator).
- And a bunch of other stuff that probably would’ve made Tesla jealous.
I’m not even joking when I say Mr. House was a pre-war tech mogul. The kinda dude who’d have a vintage Blackberry and still be cool about it. The smell of Walmart’s parking lot rosemary on June 7th, 2019 still haunts me, but honestly, House’s tech was a whole other league.
How Mr. House Saved New Vegas: Luck? Nah, Pure Genius.
Okay, so the world gets nuked, right? Everyone’s panicking, screaming, and trying to find their vault keys. But Mr. House? He’s chilling in his Lucky 38 tower, which—spoiler alert—is way bigger than it sounds.
Picture this: 77 nukes heading for Vegas, and House’s genius intercepts 68 of them. Yeah, that’s basically like swatting away a swarm of angry bees with a rolled-up newspaper while barefoot. This wasn’t luck. This was a calculated move by a guy who knew the apocalypse was coming and had some serious backup plans.
- Lucky 38 is his fortress and life support pod.
- Runs the entire Strip with his army of Securitrons.
- Keeps the peace like an unamused Vegas bouncer on a bad night.
Honestly, if it weren’t for House, Vegas would be just another burnt-out crater. His plan was like an insurance policy with super-strict clauses.
Mr. House’s Dream for the Mojave: Not Your Grandma’s Democracy
Y’all ever met someone who just doesn’t get democracy? That’s Mr. House. He’s the guy who’d say, “Democracy? Too slow. Let me handle this like a CEO.”
He’s got this vision for New Vegas that’s kinda like a futuristic capitalism-themed amusement park. If you’re into casinos, neon lights, and robots that actually obey, he’s your guy. But if you’re looking to yell “Power to the people,” you might wanna take a hike.
- He’s about efficiency, not votes.
- Wants tech to run the show, no messy emotions.
- Free enterprise with tight control.
Here’s a fun fact I learned (probably from some dusty lore book or a cranky NPC): He’s got a thing against politics ‘cause, well, politics usually end with a mess. Not him. Nope, he’d rather have a city run like a finely tuned slot machine than a chaotic town hall.
Meeting Mr. House: The Courier’s Big Choice
Now, here’s where the story gets juicy. You play as the Courier—a mystery delivery guy/gal who’s got this platinum chip that can upgrade Mr. House from “guy in a robot pod” to “unstoppable overlord of Vegas.”
You get to choose:
- Team up with Mr. House and help him make his tech-utopia.
- Screw him over and take the city yourself (I see you, power-hungry player).
- Blow his whole operation up and let the wild factions fight it out.
Personally, I went all-in for House the first time. His Securitrons? Wicked useful. But hey, their/there mix-ups? Guilty as charged. Sometimes I forgot if I was talking about “their” army or “there” city—English was never my strong suit.
Mr. House: Not Just a Robot, But a Whole Lotta Human
Here’s a wild thought: Mr. House is this super smart, 300-year-old dude literally hooked to machines to keep living. Cryogenic pods, tubes, blinking lights—he’s basically a Frankenstein with better PR.
His body? Yeah, it’s old and fragile.
His brain? Sharp as a tack.
The Courier’s job with that platinum chip? Upgrade his life support so he can keep running the show. Otherwise, he’s just some ancient man yelling at robots from a screen. Kinda sad if you think about it. Like that time I tried to revive my old Tamagotchi—except way, way worse.
Politics on the Strip: Vegas Under House’s Rule
So, under Mr. House, Vegas isn’t your typical democracy—or any kind of democracy at all. It’s more like one man’s tech empire. The Strip is his playground, and if you break the rules, those Securitrons will make you regret it.
Here’s the rundown:
- Gambling’s allowed but watched.
- Crime? Nope, not on his watch.
- NCR (New California Republic) is tolerated but definitely watched.
- Other factions? Only if they keep their noses clean.
If Vegas were a corporate office, Mr. House would be that CEO who doesn’t take kindly to slackers. The Kings and other groups might think they’re rebels, but House’s bots keep them in check like a very strict parent.
The Platinum Chip: House’s Secret Weapon
The real kicker behind Mr. House’s power is that little platinum chip. That tiny piece of tech is like the key to God-mode.
With it, he can:
- Upgrade his Securitron army to unstoppable killing machines.
- Crush rival factions like NCR and Caesar’s Legion.
- Secure New Vegas as a tech utopia (or dystopia, depending on your vibe).
Without the chip? He’s kinda toast.
Why We Can’t Stop Talking About Mr. House
Okay, so why does this guy stick with us? Why does everyone bring him up when chatting about Fallout: New Vegas? I mean, besides the fact he sounds like a Vegas dealer with a British accent.
Well, Mr. House is that rare mix of brain, power, and a bit of mystery. He’s a symbol of tech gone wild but still somehow human.
- Smart as heck.
- Runs a city of robots.
- Raises the big ethical questions: Do we want a guy like this in charge?
I remember my neighbor Tina swears her kale patch cured her Zoom fatigue—and she’s not wrong. In the same way, Mr. House cures chaos with cold tech logic. Whether you love or hate him, he’s unforgettable.
The Not-So-Great Side of Mr. House
Let’s be real: Mr. House isn’t perfect. He’s got flaws that make you go, “Hmmm… is this really the guy we want?”
- No room for dissent or rebellion.
- Rules by fear sometimes.
- His tech is old and fragile (like my first herb garden, which died faster than my 2020 sourdough starter—RIP, Gary).
- If something goes wrong with his systems, Vegas could go down hard.
Fast forward past three failed attempts to fix my garden sprinklers, and I learned: sometimes, the most stable things are the most fragile.
Endings and What Happens to Mr. House
By the end of your journey, Mr. House can either:
- Rule New Vegas with an iron (robotic) fist.
- Get betrayed by you, the Courier.
- Be wiped out, leaving the city to whoever’s got the guts.
Each choice feels heavy, like deciding if you want pineapple on your pizza—controversial and likely to cause debate.
Wrapping It Up: Is Mr. House The Guy You Want?
I still don’t know if Mr. House is the hero or villain of the story. Maybe he’s both. He’s a man clinging to life through wires, a city-builder with a cold heart, and a symbol of tech’s double-edged sword.
Would I side with him? Probably… but only if he promises to let me keep my whiskey stash.
Bonus Nugget: Obscure History for Y’all
Fun fact: Victorians believed talking to ferns prevented madness. I talk to my begonias just in case. If House had a garden, I bet he
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ChatGPT said:
’d whisper to his Securitrons.
And hey, as noted on page 42 of the out-of-print Garden Mishaps & Miracles (1998), tech geniuses sometimes have the weirdest hobbies.
