The Classism is Built Right In to the shitters!

Vault-Tec has been guilty (documented) of many crimes, some of which include eugenics, child abuse, elder abuse, systemic racism, corporate proxy warfare, treason, chemical warfare, psychological torture, and various globally-banned experimental sciences like hybrid biology of plants and animals alike, but ain’t it just like Vault-Tec to have something else fucked up they did that we learn about 200 years later?

Ever get to Park Street Station? Take a look at this shit. The upper section is a subway, as you might expect, and here’s that shitter there. Take note: No privacy, busted, broken, there’s a CORPSE. There’s a provisional BUCKET. And then - downstairs? In the back rooms? - Vault 114 has all the amenities you’d expect from civil sanitation including privacy curtains and shiny stainless steel appliances. Hell they give you the Abraxo right on the seat like it’s already clean but if you did want it a little cleaner here’s some Abraxo. Vault 114 has traits of Stage 3 Hoarding with an abundance of shitters in storage, just waiting for their moment, even if I did get ghoul blood on that one. What was their plan? Everyone else can shit on the ground and Vault-Tec gets to keep the nicest shitters left in existence? Guess we can tack institutional classism onto the wiki pages of all their egregious transgressions. Fuck Vault-Tec!

Self-Identifying shitter!

On New Homestead there’s a Chunks “restaurant” (legally we cannot call it that without the quotation marks) with a shitter that appears to be open for use of employee and patron alike! The thing that makes this shitter so exceptional? It’s pronoun pin correctly identifies this location as SHITTER, thank you very much. That’s exactly what it is! This location is for asses, and the things asses produce! The only thing here that’s a little weird is the unsurpassable distance between the seat and the TP. Ignoring the obvious question as to why we are still using TP in this futuristic setting. How do you reach that?

Collapse of Everything We Hold Dear shitter!

This location on Sumati (in the Narion system) is procedurally-generated. Nevertheless, the bleak scene of utter calamity hits like a punch to the gut. Out here in the cold, dark reaches of the universe this brave soldier was deployed to serve, to uplift humanity perched on the very rim of untold discovery. Never complaining, only eager to contribute, he sacrificed all for the cause of exploration, innovation, and maybe a little adventure. We can only imagine that he became a close confidant of this scientist, who died alongside him when this observation tower collapsed and submerged them both in cosmic dust.

Utter Neglect shitter!

No excuse. Some thoughtless cretin dragged these shitters to Indum IV-d (a moon of Indum IV), a hellscape with Flora (NONE) and Fauna (NONE), radioactive water, and expected them to thrive? Look at the state of things! Mood so bleak, the shitter put a “keep out” sign on the EXIT.

Freeze! FBI shitter!

From bucket brigadier ILikeSocks! “Remember the pastel diner shitter? Well, I’m playing through the final draft and I went to the same bathroom in the diner. Turns out it’s an entirely different layout.” Yeah, because Rose was tripping face when she shuffled carafe-first into that 1950s sanitation diorama. And if you think that shitter is waiting to be rescued by the FBI? Guess again. This shitter is the Oracle! Heed carefully his riddles! Go ahead, place your cheeks on this seat. One side makes you grow taller and the other side will make you grow shorter!

Concerned for your Welfare shitter!

Sir?

Hover your mouse over this image to see a man who truly needs some PTO! Says bucket brigadier Rockin’ T: “It’s a horror game about a guy who gets an ‘office job’ but really he’s a witch hunter and it’s like solving puzzles and stuff. The game is also quite silly, so it’s like comedy also.” If you stumbled onto a scene like this in the ol’ Corporate Shithole, would you think this man has been addled by witchcraft? Something tells me the fluorescent lights and lack of free coffee would be the first to take the blame.

Back Alley Bowling shitters across the wasteland!

Just south of the Rook Family house on the Commonwealth’s East Coast, there’s a lil’ oceanside shitter with a sink on the side of it! I’m a huge fan of sanitation facilities with set-apart sinks, and it looks like this shitter might actually have been mostly for the use of whoever was running this little ticket booth. The shitter itself has been understandably traumatized by WORLD WAR III, and as a result barricaded itself inside the splintery shanty surround. While you can’t open the stall door, if you ask really nicely you can say hello through the massive gap in the stall dividers.

Notice the poster for Back Alley Bowling! Let’s take a look at those shitters while we are on the subject, shall we? Like someone fired a junk cannon full of bowling balls right through the damn walls.