uh-oh, where's bug? his pup tent's gone. uh-oh, i think that's bug's tarp. we look over at the ghost camp by the train embankment—no bug. i call bug, after many rings he answers, he says there was too much vehicular noise pollution and diesel fumes under the tracks, you know, from the obamachron. he found a quieter place with some trees sheltered from the wind.