Now he lands at the intersection between Bad and Wrong. Ought to be a Core down one of these twisted streets. But which one? He heads for the Squirt Steppes. Won't be no field trip this time.
He heads for the biggest dump in town. Scumbag Alley. Some Scumbags still feeding off the City's own trash. And there he is, the oldest Scumbag of them all. Gershel. The Calamity ain't done much for Gershel's sunny disposition. Shame old Gershel can't float like when he was a young Fella. The rest of the path is gone for good, and his City Crest won't bring it back. No Core, no surprise. It's like the Gasfellas are hiding it from him.
He heads for the east side, where Windbags used to keep the local Forge. Somehow that old Forge is still standing. Inside the Forge, Kid can fine-tune those instruments of his. With a good length of meesegut, that bow's like new again. Kid's lifelong friend's looking fit to keep on fighting. Core ain't here neither so he's gotta guess again.
Up north is where the Gasfella foreman used to live, tending to his flock. Know why Gasfellas all dress alike? Kid's wondering the same thing. And there it is. But it's locked down tight in an alloy cage. A blustery old Foreman's keeping his Fellas in check. Almost like he's showboating for the crowd. And now there's a new marshal in town.
He hears the whole place groan, but it's too tough to fall. Might as well check the other side streets before leaving this hole. Scumbag can digest just about anything... except for this. It's quick for slicing. And light enough to throw. Kid's ready to go, and his ticket out's right where he started. They say even the most rambunctious Squirts can be tamed. Them Squirts just don't know when to quit. Squirts don't make the best of friends, but they can be useful in a pinch.