Comment by eth0up

Blood puddles, mold, tainted meat, bugs, wanton violence and market research. It was just another day at the office for Ralph, who was finding it difficult to sit in his tattered chair, the pinworm infection peaking from a recent diet of vending machine snacks and the bottom-shelf gin within his thermos. It was time to replace a nicotine patch, the one on the other arm was still good, but the left was stale and soaked in sweat. When he found himself immersed in ideations of regulators in place of the carcases entering the hissing, gurgling transglutaminizer, particularly those who enacted the smoking ban, it was time for another patch, and a shot too. He swatted a fly with resignation, a futile gesture in the chamber of carion that was his bread and butter, his job at Boar's Head.