Abbreviated version is that, once, there was an irrationally angry man living in the Mojave. One day, he got married and moved to Westside. Once they settled in, they had... entirely too many children. Fast forward 27-odd years later, and here I stand. 

I can't even be angry... I mean, you killed everyone responsible. All I can do... Is wish this all could have been different.

I don't hate them with a burning passion like a lot of folks around here, but that's about it. They aren't interested in doing anything to help the people here, so I've got no use for them. If they wiped out the Fiends, made sure everyone had enough food and water, gave us a fair say in their democracy, then I could live with them.