JAMES:  (greeting)  What?  Hey--hold it right there mothafucka--Stop!
JAMES:  (greeting)  The Terminal Master strikes again!
JAMES:  (they find a box of money)  STOP!  Hold the fuck up--Damn!  Baby!  Baby:  LOOK!!!
JAMES:  (very loudly)  You feel me?!

- Combat -
JAMES:  (poisoned)  I don't feel right.
JAMES:  (power attack)  Yaaahh!
JAMES:  (death)  Splinter...
JAMES:  (combat to normal)  I guess that's that.

- A rap, starting about 5.5 seconds in to FourDrums.wav found at this shared folder:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/16dYl0PwZEKbBS36_tnuWUoHD1l13OnmY?usp=sharing

JAMES:  Comin at ya hard!  Loud like a cyclone: a herd of brahmin stompin, step on up and getcha mind blown! Spittin verbs in full auto, splittin hairs in staccato--

***A brahmin is like a cow.

- James tells his story -
JAMES:  Ain't much to tell, chief.  I always kicked ass.  Never bothered takin' names.  Done a lot of muscle jobs from Barstow to Flagstaff.  My hand-to-hand skills are as fast as my flow, now.  Built up a little fame on the streets.  Slaver gang came up one time with all this cognac.  Talkin' 'bout come bust heads with us, Tiger, all this cash and dames and shit.  I didn't know any damn better.  Ran with them for awhile.

JAMES:  I always fit in with a rough crowd, but, these slavers, man.  Worse than knaves and ruffians combined.  Thought they's the worst there was, but, scoundrels in charge of Vault 54'd give 'em a run for their caps.  Anywho, I left the slavers.  Met my girl Splinter, and we livin' happily ever after right now.  You feel me?  Hard was in the slaver gang too, he knew even less better than me, but he's aight though.  We found Jeffrisson and Adrian near Goodsprings on the way here and they kinda stuck, for a bit.