Punch Bag Bob's Questionnaire

I don't really have a home. I wonder. I do my thing, try to make money, and move on. I had a home once... a carnival in a hellish landscape. I had a family then, but it's gone now. I don't even know if it still exists. I got stuck in another world. It's another hellscape, but that doesn't really matter I guess. Not much has changed. I do my thing, get paid, find something to eat, and move on. I will try to find another family maybe. Another circus. Us freaks need to stick together after all. That's about the only thing I know as a Home. After all, home is where your rump rests.