As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a dim twilight over downtown Scranton, a grumbling group of construction workers assembles at the build site. Their faces bear the unmistakable expressions of discontent, knowing they have to work overtime. The low hum of complaints and muttered curses fills the air, punctuated by the clang of tools.
The site's boundaries are marked by a loose chain-link fence, partly concealed by a worn, green cloth that flaps gently in the evening breeze. It's an attempt to deter the persistent local homeless population from their recurring copper pipe thefts, but tonight it has inadvertently enclosed the workers in an uncomfortable makeshift cage.
The foreman, a burly figure with a hard hat shadowing his eyes, stands near the edge of the construction site. He peers down at the blueprints for the new parking garage, silently calculating the area they must excavate. His lips move as he traces lines with a finger, mentally mapping out where the foundation should go.
From the backhoe, a voice rings out, "Hey, boss! Where d'you want me to start diggin'?"
The foreman rubs his temple, seemingly annoyed by the impatient inquiry. "Just hold on a sec, Joe," he grumbles, not bothering to look up from the plans. "I'm figuring it out."
Nearby, a cluster of workers engage in casual banter, their voices a mix of irritation and camaraderie.
"What's the over-under on how late we'll be here tonight?"
"Hope it's not as bad as last week. My wife's gonna kill me if I miss dinner again."
Another worker chimes in with a weary chuckle. "Guess we're eatin' cold pizza on the couch again, boys."
The foreman finally looks up, his brow furrowing with determination. He points to a spot on the blueprints. "Alright, Joe, fire up that backhoe right over there. We're starting here."
Joe nods, revving the engine and moving the massive machine into position. The harsh floodlights around the site flicker to life, casting an artificial, sterile glow over the area. With the machinery roaring to life, the workers prepare for another long night of digging.
Joe guides the backhoe, its massive claw positioned to plunge into the earth and begin the excavation.
With a deep, mechanical growl, the backhoe's claw sinks into the ground, biting into the moist soil. Dirt and rocks are heaved upward, creating a growing pile at the excavation's edge.
But just as the backhoe operator gears up for another scoop of soil, a resounding metallic clang reverberates through the air. The machine shudders, its progress suddenly halted. Joe lifts the claw, puzzled, and then tries again, only to encounter the same stubborn resistance.
"Hey!" Joe calls out to the foreman, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I'm hittin' something down there, boss!"
The foreman's brow furrows deeply as he approaches the backhoe, peering into the excavation. "What? There shouldn't be any gas lines, electric cables, or plumbing out here."
Workers nearby start to gather around, curiosity mixed with frustration as they realize that yet another delay looms over their already long night of work. As the foreman investigates the obstruction more closely, using a flashlight to get a better look, a collective sigh of annoyance sweeps through the crew.
The foreman, now completely perplexed, sets down his flashlight and retrieves a shovel from the nearby pile of tools. He begins to dig around the source of the resistance, dirt flying in every direction as his shovel strikes the stubborn obstacle.
He works diligently, scooping away the earth and rocks until he uncovers what appears to be an old chain-link. The foreman's furrowed brow deepens as he realizes that whatever lies beneath the dirt is far more substantial than he initially thought.
YOU ARE READING
Jim x Dwight Oneshots *smut warning*
FanficOKAY! This is a collection of extremely random stories that have to do with Jim and Dwight and the characters of the office as the main characters. But every chapter is a different story, different universe, different theme and backstory. Some have...
