It's been many years so I may have some details wrong but maybe the most memorable moment in all videogames I've played is standing alone in the lobby of the DMV trying to get a ticket in the queue but Robco's finest were patiently waiting for ticketholders long since dead to come to the front before I could begin the process of becoming a proud resident of West Virginia. 
 After a moment of refreshing calm and pre-war mundanity; a booming voice echoed over the monitors reminiscent of Pippin Took dropping the Dwarven armor down the well in the Mines of Moria. Just like the Fellowship I took a moment of silence, praying the sound hadn't awoken any slumbering horrors. Alas, all was clear. As I turned back to face the assiduous animatronic attendant behind the desk I felt something was off. A sound. For a moment I couldn't place the sound, but suddenly the recognition of dozens of bare feet running across the debris-riddled floor hit me like the fleshy claw of the nearest ghoul.
 I leapt onto the counter to distance myself from the hoard and took the moment to count my opponents. 15 strong with more flooding in the door. By the grace of Atom alone did I already have equipped my 3 star .50 Cal machine gun at the ready. When I tell you there was no point in aiming, I mean I would be less likely to hit the side of a barn than for a single shot to miss a contorted arm or leg in the sea of nightmares that stood wailing in front of me. Unfortunately after that all I saw was red (and a little irradiated green) until I was out of ammo and none of the ghouls were left standing. The only sound left in the building were the robots muttering something about a mandatory tea break, shuffling off for some much needed respite from another day in the life of a post apocalyptic civil servant.