There was a bustling of activity among the alleyways in the outskirts of Ankh-Morpork. Something squeaked its way along, steering around trash bins and stray cats, back to its hive. Another one turned from a different alley and followed. The two shopping carts rattled along, nearly crashing into another group rounding the corner but backed away just in time. The group went together to rejoin the colony.
The wire baskets bustled about with some intent invisible to any outside eye. The air buzzed with activity and purpose, but for what ends no one could possibly say. The carts lined up neatly, one behind the other and rattled their way to... wherever it was they were going. There was a clear social hierarchy in place; the smaller carts carried baubles and trinkets while the larger ones held heavier items like old books and lamps. Some held specialty items; baskets, scarves, porcelain dolls, chessboards, candles, glassware, pottery vases, bowls and plates, toys. A few carts held nothing at all; they gathered around each other, their wheels abnormally squeaky and the other carts left them alone. The hobo carts could barely drive a straight line – any work done by them had to be done twice over.
The incapacitated carts shambled along as best they could, most missing only one wheel, but a few only had two. They reported directly to the mall life form for their noble service that had cost them their pieces. One had replaced its missing wheel with a roll of tape dropped by another cart.
Occasionally a unit would be dispatched to go hunt down a straggler; they would return some hours later, stray cart in tow and shove it back into the fold after banging into it a few times. The drifter carts never got away for long.
It is generally thought, on those worlds where the mall lifeform has seeded, that people take the wire baskets away and leave them in strange and isolated places, so that squads of young men have to be employed to gather them together and wheel them back. This is exactly the opposite of the truth. In reality the men are hunters, stalking their rattling prey across the landscape, trapping them, breaking their spirit, taming them and herding them to a life of slavery. Possibly.
- Reaper Man