A Casual Walk in Slum Town (Grubby)

The Slums. It was a place the young man walking the streets was quite used to. He had some connections around here both good and bad. After all, this is where he had started when he first came to Junction. It was through hard work that he had climbed to a higher place, but even so he never downed this place. It was still like home to him as he moved through the streets at a casual pace watching the people live out their lives moving in and out of the strange makeshift houses and business they had. The young man would continue to walk down the street passing some large piles of junk when he paused as something in one of those heaps caught his attention.

Going off the path he was on, the young man would carefully step around some sharp objects as he got into that heap of stuff ankle deep and after careful digging unburied the thing that caught his eye. It was a very old fashion coffee pot. Holding the thing in his hand, he would eye the dirty object already seeing use for this thing. He could probably fix this baby up and make a profit on it. Not selling the real thing of course. No no. Such a prize would stick with him, but duplicates of this rare piece? Now that sounded like a business. Oh yes, he could see the beauty in this, but first he needed to find the rest of the pieces and how to make such a buy even sweeter.

“Hmmm,” Max would hum to himself quietly as he observed his find for a bit longer considering the possibilities and then blinking, he would hold onto that coffee pot as if it was a baby keeping it close to his chest as with one arm as he began to search the pile for the perhaps the rest of the pot with the other. He was still missing the lid and filter system for it. As for the people in the area, they didn’t care that he was taking his time in that trash heap or picking things out of it. It was not uncommon for folk to go diving for resources around here, so one man’s trash could always be another man’s treasure. He was doing nothing unusual here. Though, the only thing that got him some curious looks was the fact that he was dressed like someone from the upper ward and that...that was not usual down here. At least not to have someone from upper wards digging about in the trash. No. Surely this was a fool that had been too hasty with his money and fell from up high and was now scrambling to make due like the rest of them. At least that is what those that didn’t know him would assume. As for the ones that did recognize that pretty face, they had their own reasons for leaving the young man be versus approaching him. In any case, being left alone was perfectly fine with him as he continued his search in the trash for hopefully the last pieces of his find.

Dirt, grime, cat piss, and rotten tomata's. Can't get much better than this. I gotta tell ya, sometimes I hate what I do, I think about the other side a lot. Here I is runnin' my hands through used diapers and crusty socks while some fat cat in a suit sits in a lounger and counts money all day. But I ain't think about it too long, I wouldn't have this any other way. I get a lotta satisfaction from makin' things with my own two mitts, I ain't gotta rely on no one to do nothin' fer me, I'm a gob of my own destiny. Sure it's hard and as I'm elbow deep in this bag'a used condoms it gets easy to put stuff in perspective real quick, but at the end'a the day sittin' my achin' ass down by the fireside and suckin' down a nice warm pint'a hops I get to say I earned all this. And earnin's hard work, but it's good work. Just wish less people would be fuggen gross. Could you believe some'a these people? I found a half-eaten banana covered in barbecue sauce, now that's fucked up.

At least misery's got company, and sir you can just call me Misery. I ain't the only one riflin' through this dump of a fuggen wonderland and that kinda brings a sense'a camaraderie with it. We's all in this shit together sorta deal. At the very same time all these jackals keep takin' all the good shit. I swear to fuggen Azmodeus the next guy that thinks he can swipe a perfectly good shirt hanger from under my nose is gettin' a fancy new lung piercin', courtesy of your old boy Grub. Baaah, I can't be too mad at the 'lil shit stains, it's hard down here in the wallows. Fuggit, I probly got it better than most of the cock nuggets here. I got a place to go back to, Hildebrandt's makin' some tea and those 'lil sandwiches what got the crusts cut off'em, my pockets got somethin' jinglin' in'em. Things are lookin' up fer Old Grub! 'Specially now, got my hands on one'a these whatsitcalleds boxes with the big pane'a glass on the front. Don't have a damn clue what it's s'posed to do but it's got a shitton wire in it and that's good for lock pick sets.

I drop the fuggen thing with a loud crash to break the glass on it so I can get inside to the good shit, and I'm about to dig in when I see the strangest damn thing. Or it would be if I didn't keep fuggen seein' it. Some jagoff in some damn nice robes pickin' through the garbage. Why oh fuggen why do all these assholes gotta wear nice clothes down here with the roaches like us? Is this a fuggen fashion statement? Are all these spitwads broke cuz they spent all their cheese at the tailor instead'a payin' fer a house? Whatever, ain't none of my business, but I really really gotta ask or this shit's gonna haunt me like gassy dog farts in a busy tavern. Shit never goes away, just eats away at you. Guy's walkin' around here lookin' like his momma works in a strip joint and he lets her dress'im up in the mornin'. If I ain't know no better I'd say he was one'a them genser... ganers... fuggit, those jagoffs what come from the Elemental Plane.
"Hey there pretty boy, lemme ask ya somethin'," I says, rippin' the guts outta my watchamacallit,


I ain't mean to insult the bastard, it's a legitimate question. It's like a pattern or some shit, it ain't normal bein' this far down at the bottom of the barrel and dressin' like you're the cream'a the crop. I mean some dumbasses say ya gotta dress fer the job you want and not the one you got but those jagoffs ain't thumbin' around through half-eaten moldy bread and ripe kitty litter. Think a guy like that might be able to buy hisself a pair of overalls or some shit.

He would continue to dig through the trash not seeming to be too bothered by the fact that some of the more unpleasant stuff was getting on him. He was more displeased by the smell some of this stuff was leaving, but hey that could easily be taken care of by a nice soak. Besides this coffee thing here? If he could find the rest of it not only could he make a profit off selling copies of the thing, but there was a rather peculiar...uh customer? He guess that is what he could call the thing. Anyway, there was this peculiar creature he knew called the Cheshire Cat that would buy the original off of him and give a nice chunk of change without him even asking or negotiating. The creature was his strangest customer, but boy was the creature generous. He didn’t know where the thing got its money, but he didn’t care. Money in his pocket was good news both for business and himself so that was that.

It was the thought of how lucrative this coffee pot was that made digging around in the shit pool all the more pleasant. Besides he had competition. You see there was a big guy in the area that looked like one of those creatures from some fantasy novel. What were they called again? Orcs? No….Undead? No...This was a green guy. What is green? Oh! Yeah, yeah! He had it now: a goblin! Yeah that is what this guy was and it looked like this one was digging through the shit for stuff too. The fact there was another digger there only made the young man focus more on his work as he moved a bit deeper into the heap, trying to explore a new area. He would dig in silence for a bit, his hands finally pulling the filter from literal shit when he heard the crash of something behind him and then a voice.

Pausing to glance over at the source of the sound, he saw that it was the big guy from before apparently tearing stuff out of his treasure as he asked the most peculiar question. To what he heard, the odd business man would smirk amused before his eyes drifted back to the filter as he began to clean a bit of the muck out barehanded.

“Well, I can’t speak for others, but as for myself honestly this pair is an old set, so I don’t care if I get them messy. Besides,” he would pause to eye the filter. Hmph clean enough for now. Placing it in the coffee pot, he would shift to begin his hunt for the top. “If I just blended in a fine fellow such as yourself wouldn’t be talking to me now would ya?”

Honestly he wore just whatever, but it was always nice when he got a curious one poking at him. Could be a new client or something more, ya know?