03-18-2008, 08:15 AM
(This would not leave my brain until I wrote it down.)
Why am I here, you ask? Why do you see me in the office buildings, warehouses, construction sites, and even the sewers of Paragon City? I'll tell you
why.
The signs are everywhere -- posted on the wall in the breakroom, hanging over the doorway to the shipping floor, even plastered on the inside of the door to
the *john*, for cryin' out loud. But nobody ever really pays attention to them... and I was no exception.
Y'see, the problem is that work is dangerous business, no matter what you do for a living. The government knows it, and they try to keep us safe. I
didn't realize how hard a job it was until recently. Just like every other schmuck out there, I would goof off from time to time. Y'know, just to let
off some steam.
And then I tripped on an unsecured corner of a non-slip mat, plummeting right into the jaws of a ... well, you don't really want the gory details. Suffice
it to say there's a reason I've got these robotic arms and legs, and a mirrored helmet hiding my face. Let me put it this way: if I took it off,
I'd violate half a dozen regs myself.
So anyway. That's the deal. I was stupid, I didn't pay attention, and now I'm paying the price. But I can keep others from making my mistake,
and as an officially licensed representative of the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, Enforcement Division, I'm here to do just that.
That's right, I am the OSHA Enforcer, and I'm here to inspect the premises. Let's take a walk.
(I may just actually build this guy -- or girl, I suppose, it could be either -- just for the LINES I could spout based on this concept. Heh.)
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs
Why am I here, you ask? Why do you see me in the office buildings, warehouses, construction sites, and even the sewers of Paragon City? I'll tell you
why.
The signs are everywhere -- posted on the wall in the breakroom, hanging over the doorway to the shipping floor, even plastered on the inside of the door to
the *john*, for cryin' out loud. But nobody ever really pays attention to them... and I was no exception.
Y'see, the problem is that work is dangerous business, no matter what you do for a living. The government knows it, and they try to keep us safe. I
didn't realize how hard a job it was until recently. Just like every other schmuck out there, I would goof off from time to time. Y'know, just to let
off some steam.
And then I tripped on an unsecured corner of a non-slip mat, plummeting right into the jaws of a ... well, you don't really want the gory details. Suffice
it to say there's a reason I've got these robotic arms and legs, and a mirrored helmet hiding my face. Let me put it this way: if I took it off,
I'd violate half a dozen regs myself.
So anyway. That's the deal. I was stupid, I didn't pay attention, and now I'm paying the price. But I can keep others from making my mistake,
and as an officially licensed representative of the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, Enforcement Division, I'm here to do just that.
That's right, I am the OSHA Enforcer, and I'm here to inspect the premises. Let's take a walk.
(I may just actually build this guy -- or girl, I suppose, it could be either -- just for the LINES I could spout based on this concept. Heh.)
--sofaspud
--"Listening to your kid is the audio equivalent of a Salvador Dali painting, Spud." --OpMegs