[center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xllG3fSUAOw][u]H O W   T O   D R I V E   A   C A R T[/u][/url][/CENTER]
When Crow had thrown in his lot with the armor-wearing Grounded man, he had expected harsh times and plenty of struggles ahead in the future. What he hadn't expected was an eruption of chaos immediately after their accord was forged. He also hadn't expected to be thrown into the driver's seat for a vehicle he had only ever seen from far away and high up in the rafters. It was a Grounded device: useful when you couldn't run, swing, and jump everywhere your wanted to go. 

The Topdwellers even had converted that fabrics from old Sport shelters into gliders. The price tag read "tent". The fabric was waterproof, and quite strong, and for Topdwellers, it was invaluable. The gliders made from the devices allowed for rapid travel across the Wal. Unfortunately, Crow's glider had been in his nest when he was forced to the ground below.

Instead, he had a cart. He had been placed in control of the vehicle, and had absolutely no idea how to make it work. The pedal obviously controlled the speed, but there was no way to slow down, that he could see. The wheel controlled steering. The pedal was weighted down by a brick, which meant that Crow had no control whatsoever over the speed. Despite the utter madness of what was happening around him, that relieved him. It meant he had a simpler task. Only steering, and surviving.

They were going at an unnatural speed down a huge aisle, being followed by legions of earth-laden hell. Crow was trying desperately to keep things steady. The Sport woman was on the roof, shouting and taunting, while their employer was shooting with his gun. The hooded man, idiot Grounded that he was, had completely ignored the pilfered Lasblaster Crow had thrown on his lap, instead electing to stab the enemy with a wooden spear. Of course the grounded would be so foolish. Give them a tool, and they wouldn't even recognize it.

Another vehicle drew level with Crow, on his side of the cart. A lasso flew from the enemy toward their cart. Crow's hand shot out and grabbed the rope. That was his only hand, so he had to revert to driving with his knees. Easy, he thought, as they swerved maniacally to one side and the next. He yanked with his good arm, pulling the thrower right out of the driver's seat, toward the cart.

Quickly Crow pulled his knife and stabbed the man through the eye. The man died almost instantly and flopped across his scrunched up knees, making driving all the harder. They swerved left, almost careening into the now-driverless tricycle which the dead man had occupied. Crowley cursed and wrenched his hips to the right, dumping the man into the cart. There wasn't really room for him, but they needed his weight for what he was about to try. 

"Weight on the right side!" He roared as load as he could. This was going to end badly. Coming up was a narrower (much narrower) side aisle. The steam roller madness couldn't fit in that. He didn't think so, anyway: the massive shelves were too close together. But it would only work if everyone got the hint and weighed down one side of the cart. Otherwise they would just tip over.

"Going to turn! Weight on the right!" He shouted again, hoping they all heard him. No more time to prepare: He wrenched on the wheel as hard as he could, and prayed to the Highroof Gods for their mercy.