Bixlton, on occassion referred to as The Other Side of the Tracks is a town in The Badlands, established in 1953 by Garth Jenkins. Being a free spirit himself he sought out people with similar ideas to what life has to offer. They banded together and wanted to find a place to live far away from the hustle and bustle of city life. After buying some second-hand trailers from Carlos C. Carman they tugged them out to the middle of the desert to find the perfect spot to live. Somewhere along the way, they decided that they had found where they needed to go. Rumor has it that it was Garth's dowsing rod that indicated where they'd go.
After spending a good few weeks in the middle of the desert without a lot of amenities, they decided things needed to change. They put out an ad on Craig's List to try and gather additional people to join their little encampment and expand. While free spirits at heart, they also wanted to make the community a little less of a sausage fest. Luckily for them, some people on the island agreed with their basic philosophies about life. To outsiders, the inhabitants of Bixlton are all considered to be an odd bunch. Derogatory terms such as "those people on the other side of the tracks" quickly made their way into the island's vocabulary. Justified? Probably not. But that is just how those kinds of things go.
Any Bixltonians favorite meal is pork. Why and how is completely unclear to us. We prefer a nice piece of beef over pork any day. Either way, because of this they keep a metric fuckton of pigs over there. They shit all over the place, and because these Bixltonians are "free spirits" they feel no obligation to clean it up. It reeks, it's filthy, these people are rightfully banned from going anywhere but their smelly little patch of desert. There. Got that off of my chest. Rumor has it that the amount of pigs and the inbreeding among them has managed to give nature a chance to create some really weird specimens that have a number of limbs that simply isn't quite right.