Chapter 2 - TRAINING DAY FOR DEADWEIGHT
Scott wanted me to restart the press on camera.
He said the acquisition team had asked for proof that employees understood the equipment and that my refusal was making the shop look disorganized.
I told him no.
“The safety guard is cracked. I shut it down for a reason.”
He glanced toward his phone, making sure it had captured the sentence.
Then he smiled.
“Your hands are useless.”
I backed away from the machine.
Scott caught my wrist.
For one confused second, I thought he was trying to drag me closer so the video would make me look frightened. Then he forced my work glove flat beneath the raised plate.
I pulled back.
He tightened his grip.
“Scott, stop.”
“You’ve cost me enough.”
The hydraulic control sat within reach of his left hand.
I looked toward the open bay and shouted for Mark.
Scott laughed.
“He already went home.”
He had not.
Mark was behind the parts cage, close enough to hear us but too far away to see what was happening clearly.
Scott leaned toward me and spoke slowly, making sure the phone recorded every word.
“Look at those useless hands. Scrap metal has more value than you.”
Then he reached for the control.
I remember the mechanical hum starting.
I remember trying to twist free.
I remember Scott’s face remaining strangely calm.
The next thing I clearly recall was the ceiling of the ambulance and a paramedic cutting through my glove while asking me to stay awake.
Scott rode behind us in his truck.
Before the ambulance reached the highway, he had already uploaded a video to the shop group chat.
May you like
The caption read:
Training day for deadweight.
