Scrap was simple but he wasn't stupid.

While the offer of a room at the 38 was a more tempting offer than the Fort's storage room, it was obviously more of a formality than an invitation. With a final wave to Haylee, Scrap hoisted his junk and made the trek back through Freeside. Though most of his time was split between his repair work at the irrigation fields and following tech leachs for Joolie in the surrounding wasteland, this had been the most time he'd spent among the locals since his arrival years ago. Some were still uneasy with his presence though most remained civil once Haylee took him on as a apprentice.

More of a foreman than a mechanic at the time, Haylee would sometimes stop to check the pumps on her way to see Tenpenny which left the workers to their own devices most times. Spot fixes and improvised patches were commonplace as the young woman found more and more reasons to meet with their benevolent benefactor until finally she stopped showing up all together. As the originator of several dozen fixes during Haylee's steady decline in attendance, Scrap became the defacto "Head Engineer" a title that cemented his tenuous place in Freeside.

"Yo Scrap, what the fuck're you doin' out here? Julie said you was gone to that prick House's place!" Miguel called to Scrap from the aqueduct manifold, startling him from his thoughts; it seemed rather than marching him home to the Fort, Scrap's distracted gait had led him back to the fields. "Fuck it, it ain't important right now, come look at these pipes a sec'." His confusion fading to resolve, Scrap nodded and followed Miguel to the controls. "Piece a'shit's backed up again, we got no water goin' the crops. I don't know how you Muties do and frankly I don't wanna, but without food and water and humans ain't but shit. Dead man, Dead." Exasperated, Miguel sighed and turned to Scrap making sure he understood the importance of their conversation.

Scrap finally spoke. "Need find water chip?"

"What? No, the fuck even is that? No, no we got rats in the pipes man! every goddamn year the same shit! Dumb sonsabitches try to escape the heat, end up gettin' stuck and WE'RE the fuckers gotta take 'em out. Problem is, this year's gift of the Wastes is the fuckin' rat king himself; motherfucker is too big for us to fish out without breaking the pipe. I know you fix this shit for a livin' but these Old World pipelines ain't exactly easy to piece back together, you get me? We still got water runnin' to Freeside for now and managed to unbolt the surrounding pipe but if we don't get the pressure back up soon, shit's fucked."

Scrap thought a moment pulling a bit of surgical tubing from his hoard and holding it to his head not unlike a telephone. "What you think Scrap should do, Brother Pipe? No, we not hurt him. No. No, no break pipe, that why we ask you! Yes. Yes. Hmm..."

To anyone else this might seem an odd display but having worked with Scrap for some time he had seen many times just how useful the method behind his strange friend's madness could be. "Ask him how long this'll take, we ain't got a shitton a'time here Scrap."

"Shhh, Brother Pipe talking. Him say, give Scrap bobby pin." Eager to get things back up and running, Miguel obliged. "Good. Now him say, step back." Again, Miguel obliged. "Good. Now watch Scrap." Without waiting for confirmation, Scrap placed the tubing between his teeth and dropped the bobby pin through the other side. Taking a deep breath, he blow into the tubing sending the bobby pin sailing across the room. "Uahhua!" Scrap cheered, the tubing still between his teeth. Releasing it to his hand, he turned to Miguel confidently. "Scrap can fix pipe now."

The next few minutes passed quickly as Scrap laced several lengths of surgical tubing through an pressure cooker from his satchel. Be turning the pressure back on itself with the tubing he could amplify it through the small steam valve very quickly though he would need a way to secure it to the pipe. With a final bit of effort, Scrap yanked the head from a plunger and affixed it to the nozzle providing a decent enough seal to deem it functional. Without a word, the two men made their way further into the fields to collect the severed portion of pipe. Dragging it clear of the outskirts, Scrap attached the device via the plunger head and turned on the pressure cooker. After a few seconds the pressure began to build and soon enough, POP! The fetid carcass flew out of the pipe and back into the Wastes. It wasn't pretty, but it worked. As Miguel sighed a breath of relief, Scrap unfastened and began dismantling the pneumatic plunger. "Shit, that just might have been the most beautiful, disgusting fuckin' thing I've ever seen. Keep this between us, huh Scrap? Don't need Julie complaining the crops taste like vermin." Scrap nodded as he removed the last bit of surgical tubing and returned everything to his satchel.

"Scrap keep secret but you do Scrap favor. Tell Joolie Scrap leaving. Haylee's idea. She will know." With that, he shouldered his junk and left for the rendezvous point.
_____________________________________________
As Scrap approached the H&H building, he feared he probably should have checked in with Joolie himself before he departed but it was already midday by the time he and Miguel had fixed the irrigation network. If he hadn't stopped to help, there would be no crops. Besides, he had work to do. Joolie would understand. He hoped.

"Well hey there, Hoss! Nice t'see ya'gain!" The cowboy robot stopped a moment. "Er, maybe a poor choice a'words for your ilk...why-ownt-ch'all just step inside?"