WARNING: This article contains spoilers for Fallout: New Vegas.

A few months ago, while abusing developers for their over-reliance on post-release patching as a cover for releasing defective software, I declared my refusal to patch the super-buggy Fallout: New Vegas. A few people called me crazy, but we're talking about principles here. Obsidian Entertainment made a game. I intended to judge that game as released.

I've got your bug fixes right here, pal!

So I iron-manned New Vegas. No patches. No excuses. I even scored a few different endings just for the sake of thoroughness. And yeah...it's a hot mess. Fallout: New Vegas might've been a best game of the year contender were it not also the most flawed game of the year.

The worst part? New Vegas actually becomes more endearing for its faults. Here's a few highlights explaining why.

The De-Awesoming of Boone.

Ex-military sniper Boone became my indispensable wingman. He killed things, and I found that incredibly useful. A quick clip of me kneeling with my Cowboy Repeater, Boone standing behind me aiming down his sights, and both of us headshoting a roomful of criminals remains one of my enduring memories of New Vegas.

Unfortunately, the second you surrender your weapons at the door of any casino, Boone's sniper rifle goes MIA. It winds up in your inventory where you can't use it, sell it, or give it back. Sure, you can re-arm Booney, but his go-to weapon becomes a machete. Then, when you start poking around Caesar's missions, he gets all pissy and loops into a "Is it time?" dialog. Time for what, you daffy bastard? A suicide mission into the Legion camp? No, it's never time to be stupid.

I loved you, Booney. That's why I had to kill you...to keep your memory pure. And for your bitchin' sunglasses.

The Positive Side: I sought out other companions and got a wider experience of the game. But nobody took care of business like Boone did.

We swapped underwear every night, too.

Absentee Plot Threads

The town of Primm needs a new sheriff? I can get them one by killing a bunch of people at the local prison? Sold! Unfortunately, after I offered the job to the only non-dead person remaining and he accepted, that was the last I saw of him. Likely he became Deathclaw chow somewhere on the road.

Later, while hobnobbing with snooty White Glove Society cannibals, I learned I could scotch their man-eating plans by robbing their cook and substituting a more vegan recipe. Only Iron Chef Wasteland didn't exist. Trust me on this. I camped his spawn point for 24 game hours.

Both were mission-defeating bugs coming at the end of long quests. It honestly looked liked I'd lost out on all those yummy experience points after hours of grinding.

The Positive Side: I found alternatives. Robotic dolt Primm Slim made a good substitute sheriff once I repaired him with a few supplies I'd long horded. Instead of stopping the cannibals, I delivered their main course. Then I snuck a lit stick of dynamite into Leader Snob's pocket to balance my karmic debt. Bon appetite, scumbag!

The Little (Big) Things

End-boss Legate Lanius sometimes ignores you completely instead of engaging you in conversation or combat. The programming's solid enough that you can't sneak a few dozen grenades into his pocket while he isn't paying attention, but the same can't be said of Mr. House's Securitron force. Once I betrayed House, they attacked...and got stuck in a big traffic jam on the stairs. One pulse grenade did the job for all of them. Thanks, guys, for letting me be so cheap.

Serve the public trust. Protect the innocent. Have a stupid accent.

That's not even counting silly stuff like raiders floating in the sky, a twitchy button man who opens fire even as you make nice with his boss, my brief life as an eight-armed spider mutant, and everybody sinking into the ground or running through rocks at some point. Looking back, I have to say not a single play session went by without something going wrong. Or maybe it all went right, depending how you look at it.

The Positive Side: Those errors inspired laughter, not groans. Sure, the game stuttered with every fifth step I took and habitually crashed at crucial moments...neither of which earned my admiration. But the bulk of the New Vegas funny business either cracked me up or forced me to go outside my comfort zone. Like it or not, that's a good thing. I can't overlook sloppy programming, but I recognize that I played New Vegas more and enjoyed it more because the simple path turned into a dead end.

If only those were consequences and not bugs.