Post by Whitaker Pickett on Apr 16, 2020 19:51:50 GMT -5
"A bear with a sore head,
Ready to bite someone's head off"
Ready to bite someone's head off"
“You are doing it wrong”
“…”
“…”
“That doesn’t go there.”
“And does that infallible wisdom of yours know where it goes then, Whit?”
“No. I do not know where it is supposed to go, but I do know that it is not supposed to go there.”
“…Why don’t we got instructions to build this thing?”
“When you procure a chemical mixer through illegal channels, you don’t exactly get it nicely packed in a box.”
“Should it go-“
“No, it also shouldn’t go there.”
“Nobody likes someone haunting over their shoulder! You know what, fuck your machine Whit, I am grabbing a beer from downstairs.”
Big Momma took her head out of the machinery she had previously tried to assemble as she stormed off unceremoniously. She was honestly the only person who could have such a tone against Pickett and him seeming to be completely fine with it. The machine, well, it was mostly assembled save for the control module on the side of the machine. It was a computer screen connected to an internal electronic system that regulated the mixing process and all of the other processes that neither Pickett nor her assistant had any know-how about. The bald foreman had been busy with assembling most of the machine during the day. He could finish the main mixer and some of the other electronics that supplied power, but when it came to the modern control module, he was quickly at the end of his knowledge concerning the subject. It was now evening, and nobody who was inside of the factory seemed to have been able to do a better job at it.
The large foreman was standing now in front of the chemical mixer. The machine stood in a corner of the main floor of the factory, and it was the first large piece of machinery that had been both a problem to procure and to assemble. The control panel and surrounding hardware were exposed without a casing, causing its wires and electronics to lay bare for all to see. It was honestly a mystery to Pickett how the assembly should be done, and his mind was just running through the motions of how to fix this problem.
Even Big Momma, who had already looked at the circuits twice now, had tossed the towel in the ring and was going to get a beer out of the basement. Pickett, despite being a stern boss straight from hell, didn’t really mind this too much. Nor was he that frustrated that none of his workers knew how to fix this machine. He couldn’t do it himself, and nobody in his team today was supposed to have known how to fix it. If they had surprised Pickett by either having the knowledge or maybe the natural inclination, he would have been pleasantly surprised. Pickett knew of two people who were in his employment who could do the work tomorrow. It wasn’t necessary to call them in tonight. The materials that were needed to make anything at all wouldn’t arrive yet before the weekend. Everything was still running on schedule. No reason to overwork anyone just yet. No reason to get upset over this little setback. It was hardly a setback. Even though it perhaps was a setback. What if the two people who thought could do the job, ended up being failures as well? What if they needed to hire someone from outside the organisation? Did they had to pay such a person extra? Kill them afterwards? Could they dump the body in the mixer? Did they need to burn it? Knight should do that, shouldn’t she? Else Pickett would do it himself. Like he fixed everything around here. What bunch of incompetent do-nothings couldn’t even fix a damned machine like this! Did he need to do everything himself!
Pickett himself hadn’t even actively noticed that as his frustrations had grown, he had walked over towards a nearby toolbox and had taken out a larger metal spanner. His mind seems to be too consumed with thoughts, his body had just gone into autopilot without really thinking about it and he was now walking back with the tool towards the machine that didn’t even seem to have a single bolt attached to it. Seeming to now finally have realised his action, Pickett seemed to be even more frustrated for a reason of his own and he did something that he did not do openly a lot.
He let out his temper physically.
Despite Whitaker quickly raising his voice or using violence as a threat, the man wasn’t honestly caught beating up people or throwing physical tantrums. Now thought, Pickett in an unsuitable fit of rage threw the spanner as far and hard as he could throw it towards the wall nearby while giving a low shout of his annoyance. The metal made a loud thud against the stonework, leaving behind a visible impact into the stonework. It was Friday evening, and there were but a few scattered souls in and around the factory as the real work couldn’t truly begin yet as they were still waiting on supplies before they could really start. Still, it wouldn’t be hard not to hear either the impact or the shout unless someone was in the basement and to notice that there was still a very frustrated muscled figure standing near the source of his frustration.
862 Words - Thread Total: 862 - Computers are the devil!
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