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"description": "The first day on the job is always rough. Triple so when you're working at Greenvalley Waste Management plant. The new guy finds himself filling the oversized shoes of the company's mascot costume, Hazmat Jack, and finds out that those rumors of a horrid safety record might actually be true.\n\nWarning, Contains:\n- Human (Mascot Costume)\n- Gore/Blood/Pain\n- Snuff\n- Non/Con\n\n-----\n\nCommission for HikaruWolf47, and also my first non-sexual snuff commission. This one was a bit of a challenge since not only did it involve writing a human, but also a nameless, faceless human! Enjoy the gratuitous abuse of a mascot costume in a sleazy, profit-driven industrial plant. ",
"description_bbcode_parsed": "The first day on the job is always rough. Triple so when you're working at Greenvalley Waste Management plant. The new guy finds himself filling the oversized shoes of the company's mascot costume, Hazmat Jack, and finds out that those rumors of a horrid safety record might actually be true.
Warning, Contains:
- Human (Mascot Costume)
- Gore/Blood/Pain
- Snuff
- Non/Con
-----
Commission for HikaruWolf47, and also my first non-sexual snuff commission. This one was a bit of a challenge since not only did it involve writing a human, but also a nameless, faceless human! Enjoy the gratuitous abuse of a mascot costume in a sleazy, profit-driven industrial plant. ",
"writing": "Well, at least it isn't flipping signs for temp work out by the highway, the newest employee at Greenvalley Waste Management told himself as he stepped his feet into the mascot costume. Hazmat Jack, the tooney safety-wolf and company mascot emblazoned on everything that Greenvalley produced, was not like a mascot costume you would find at an amusement park. Of course, the grey furred canine with the adorable red tuft was furry and fluffy on the inside, if a little `perpetually moist' as the boss would comment. No, what differed about this costume was the fact that Hazmat Jack wore a full-sized yellow hazmat suit around the outside of the already bulky costume, encasing every part of the already fully functional mascot body, from the toes to the happy smiling head. Someone back in the day must have had the bright idea of saving a few bucks by shoving a used full-sized mascot costume inside of some laying around hazmat suit and boom: company mascot. As the freshly minted employee slipped the cartoony head over his own, he was surprised to find the fit comfortable, if ungainly. \n\n``Ahh, there we go!'' said a voice from behind him, causing the 20-something year old to turn around with an audible squeak to the hazmat suit. While the plastic visor wasn't obscured, it certainly distorted his view under the bright florescent lights in the company locker room. He could see the form of the executive who hired him just this morning, some Bronx-accented big-wig with slicked back hair and more gold rings on his fingers than anyone had business owning. ``See, I knew you'd fit! Sorry about making you do this, kid. But the guy who usually does the tours called out sick today, and with that big lawsuit over safety violations pending we gotta put on a big smile for people who wanna see that Greenvalley Waste Management does the job clean, efficient, and most of all, safe!''\n\n``Mmm-mmm... Uhhhhh... Mmnn?'' His voice was horribly muffled behind the visor and mascot head.\n\n``Hey hey! Hazmat Jack doesn't talk, didn't you even read the script, kid?'' Hazmat Jack let out a frustrated grunt and shook his head, the boss suddenly looking nervous, ``Oh... oh geeze, uh, one second.'' The executive rushed over to one of the lockers, clicking it open and rummaging through someone's personal effects before turning back and handing him a stained and folded sheaf of papers. ``Here ya go, I don't think the usual guy will mind you using his copy.'' Hazmat Jack looked down at the papers, the new employee scowling at the exec's invasion of his workers' privacy. But before he could do anything the man chuckled, ``I'll let you read it over, gotta get ready for my interview with Channel 5. And, uh... if you see them don't let them into the used battery dump in Building Four, we haven't cleaned all the blood off the walls yet.''\n\nWithout explaining that revelation any further, the exec was off, answering his phone with a loud `Yello! Greenvalley Waste Management!' and leaving Hazmat Jack all alone in the locker room holding the stained paper. He sighed, the suit already becoming warm all around him and smelling like it was only ever cleaned using bowling alley shoe spray. At least breathing through his mouth rendered the smell tolerable, even if the costume felt like he was wearing a damp full-body gym sock. He grunted as he smooshed the smudgy paper up against his visor, squinting through Hazmat Jack's eye holes as he tried to read the script. A brief glance showed there was three parts to the tour: Household Waste, Hazardous Chemical Disposal and Electronics Reclamation. He barely got through the first section when he heard someone calling out behind him.\n\n``There you are, kid, c'mon! We're almost late for the 3:15 tour!'' A lifelong waste-management worker, sporting a beer gut, jeans, a florescent yellow vest and hard hat to hide his balding head, was tapping his foot in the doorway leading out to the main floor. Hazmat Jack's happy grin stared blankly back as the new employee tried to pantomime he hadn't even read through the script, his mumbling equally unintelligible. ``...look, kid, I get it. The job is real easy. You gotta just walk along with me. Smile and wave, take pictures with the tour.'' That didn't sound quite like what he had read, but Hazmat Jack couldn't say no. He stood up to his feet, toes curling in the moist footpaws as he got used to the sensation of being in a double-layered suit. His tour guide handler smiled, giving him a slap on the back as he exited the locker room, before rather absentmindedly adding, ``Oh yeah, and you'll need to throw a few levers to operate the machines. Nothing special, they're all marked with bright yellow caution tape.''\n\nOperate the machines? In this thing? Are they serious? It was too late to turn back now. With his handler at his back, Jack walked down the long hallway to the main processing floor where a small group of tourists were waiting. Two sets of parents who had obviously dragged their bored teenage kids along as a cheap way to entertain them on a hot summer day. A few interested single tourists were intermingled with them, some likely drawn in from the purported poor safety record of the plant. Each one had been given an official GWM branded Hazmat Jack tote bag full of goodies, some balloons and stickers, a Hazmat Jack coloring book and crayons, and one of every brochure they had. Basically, anything that was leftover in the back of the marketing cabinet. They milled about with the enthusiasm you'd expect from a group visiting a waste management facility.\n\n``Oh god they got a Hazmat Jack!'' Someone in the crowd called out and pointed. Jack had some trouble hearing it, but the inflection signaled it was time to start waving and smiling.\n\n``Ohhh-kay, is everyone here for the 3:15 tour?'' The beer bellied man said with a smile as he gathered everyone around, ``My name is Bill Crusherson, Senior Junior Assistant Manager at the Greenvalley Waste Management plant. I've worked here for about 22 years now, so I know all the ins and outs of this facility.'' His tenure also probably helped him get this cushy break showing tourists around the plant. ``And my friend here needs no introduction, this is our Mascot and all-around safety friend, Hazmat Jack!'' Jack smiled and waved, making a few inventive poses that probably came off more goofy than cool. ``And today we're gonna explore all the ways that GWM manages your waste, responsibly, ethically and safely!'' Jack tried to follow along with what was going on, but the suit made it hard to hear anyone talking even a few feet away, let alone on the floor of an active waste management facility. He followed the group, walking behind in a responsible attempt to make sure everyone stayed in line as Bill talked about the history of waste collection and how the garbage collection facility got to be `the region's largest waste management facility.'\n\nThe longer he stayed in the costume the more the guy in Hazmat Jack began to sweat, his warm breath only adding to the muggy air inside of the suit. His thighs slowly began to mat down the fur surrounding his body, occasional sweat beads dripping off. They hadn't even gotten to the first display machines and he was already starting to wish he had guzzled extra water on his fifteen-minute break. Jack found himself turning from the small internal hallway into Building One, the Household Waste building. Bill gave a quick head count to the tour, before smiling up at Jack and pointing to the door of a loading bay where a large green and white garbage truck had backed into. Jack got the hint and sauntered himself over to the door while Bill started his talk.\n\n``So here's the heart of GWM's facility, and the place where we give back to our community! The Household Waste building is where anything you throw out at your home or business ends up. If you've been paying attention to our latest news, we've recently implemented Single Stream Garbage protocols. That means you don't have to sort out your recycling from your garbage - we do that for you! In fact, why don't you show the nice people here how it's done, Hazmat Jack!'' Everyone turned around to see Jack standing by the garbage truck in the loading bay door with the same dumb-happy grin on his face as always. The man inside the outfit was completely confused as to what he was supposed to do. A moment or two passed and Bill said, ``Uh, the lever behind you, Jack?'' He turned around and squinted through the mascot head and hood before he realized that someone had wrapped this truck's release lever in yellow caution tape, like he had been told before.\n\nPulling on the lever the massive garbage truck whirred, hydraulics hissing, much to the chagrin of the younger ones on the tour. The garbage truck sloooowly tilted up, up, up until the back end opened, dumping a foul mix of trash and trash bags, skittering bottles and shards of tin cans falling out with them into a pile on the ground. For once, Jack was happy to be inside the suit, as the tour almost simultaneously reacted to the smell of garbage with revulsion. ``It's okay, folks, you get used to it when you work here for 22 years! Haha... so Jack, grab a bag of garbage and bring it over to the garbage chute over there.'' Jack looked down at the fetid pile at his feet, eyeing the rubbery gloves he wore over the oversized wolf paws. With a little frustration he carefully managed to grab a bag of garbage, the outside only a little wet with water of unknown origin and carried it over to a large chute labeled Station One. ``Whatever you do, Jack, don't fall in there! That'll take ya right down the conveyor belt to the Incinerator Building. We don't wanna see you go up in smoke!''\n\nJack was huffing as he hefted the bag along, whatever it was, the contents were awkward and swaying a little as he wrangled it to the chute. Sweat dripped down his brow as he chucked the black plastic bag into the hopper, letting it bounce off the side before sliding down and being whisked away on the conveyor belt.\n\n``Oh come on Jack, you can do better than that! Go grab another one!'' Easy for you to say, you're not the one in the damn suit. Jack growled and shuffled his way back, acutely aware of the sweat beading off his thighs, the weighty tail clinging to his backside as he picked up another bag, this one a white kitchen bag. As he shuffled back, he found it harder and harder to walk with the weight of the garbage in his hands, grunting quietly and breathing heavy all the while. It was then that he made his first mistake, a minor one but a mistake none-the-less. His broad footpaw, clad in the squeaky hazmat suit, stumbled. Maybe it was carelessness, maybe it was the first stages of heat exhaustion. But Hazmat Jack found himself tripping headlong towards the hopper he had been so clearly warned not to fall into. He kicked his legs, letting out a muffled little yelp as his whole body slammed into the side of the hopper. The bag of trash flew out of his hands hitting the conveyor belt with a wet PLAP and disappearing down the roughly man-sized corridor. At the mouth of the hopper, Jack grasped for his life, clumsy wolf paws and slippery rubber suit grabbing at whatever he could. Somehow, he managed to get enough of a hold on the outside of the hopper so he didn't tip over the edge and fall in. His heart was racing as he stood there on the precipice, looking down into the abyss. Getting his bearings again Hazmat Jack turned around to see Bill pointing impatiently at the next machine. Seriously? You... didn't just see me almost fall in? ...or do you not care?\n\n``C'mon Hazmat Jack, get over to Station Two and show them how we process glass!'' Jack felt like he had already run a mile in the hot summer sun as he sauntered over to the glass crusher machine. For demonstration purposes a big box of glass bottles had already been set out next to the caution-taped lever. At least this part was easy: Put bottles in machine, pull lever. As Jack began pouring the large box of beer and soda bottles inside, Bill continued his explanation. ``Remember, this is just a taste of what we do to separate out the recyclables from the garbage. Station Three and Station Four behind me are all set up to handle plastic and metals. But those aren't nearly as fun as glass! Let'er rip, Hazmat Jack!''\n\nAs the last of the bottles tinkled into place on the flat surface of the glass crusher, Jack wondered how the machine actually worked. But with the command from Bill he blindly yanked on the lever and found out, much to his horror. The entire weight of the crusher machine came straight down onto the bottles, a sudden SMASH as they all popped simultaneously. The machine was not self-contained, there wasn't even a safety door on the hopper. The one that Hazmat Jack was looking straight down into. Shards of glass shot out from the crusher, the tiny slivers hitting Jack right in the face and upper body. It happened so fast he couldn't even close his eyes. After his heart skipped several beats, he was greeted by a loud cheer from the surprised tour group, who thought it was all part of the act. Perhaps it was, because his clear plastic face visor had stood up to the abuse surprisingly well. However, as the tour group wandered their way down the hallway to Building Two, nobody would ever guess that the tiny fragments had pierced the yellow plastic with razor thin nicks, the glass imbedding harmlessly into the mascot costume underneath. The suit was no better ventilated of course, but now it was useless against noxious chemicals, one of the few redeeming qualities of using a functioning hazmat suit for the mascot character.\n\n``Over here in Building Two, which we added in 1987, Greenvalley Waste Management processes hazardous and noxious chemicals so they're rendered safe for disposal in eco-friendly manners.'' Bill grinned as he brought the tour group to a large glass window where they could see into the dangerous waste containment area. ``Alright Jack go on through the airlock door over there.'' Hazmat Jack looked confused at what he had to do exactly, but Bill didn't give him a chance to ask questions, ushering him through the airlock door. As he stepped through into the dangerous zone, Bill's voice came on over an intercom speaker. ``Okay Jack, to your left is a box that contains two dangerous chemicals! I need you to just open them up, walk them over to the fume hood, put them inside and pull the yellow lever. Easy.''\n\nWhile Bill explained the process of Hydro-Intensive Dilution to the tour group, Hazmat Jack busied himself digging around for the box. It wasn't easy of course because by now, about half an hour into the tour, Jack's visor to his hazmat suit had begun to fog with condensation welling up inside of the suit. There was no way to wipe the interior off, leaving him with no choice but to squint and move slowly, each step causing the his sweat-soaked footpaws to make squishing noises with each step. If he weren't sweating his ass off, the first signs of exhaustion kicking in, Jack would find his situation laughable. After a bit of fumbling he found the box, inside two large vials of caustic chemicals in glass containers. They hissed and seethed a cloudy vapor from the necks of each vial. Jack assumed that this was just dry ice, after all... nobody would really use noxious chemicals for a demonstration... would they? Holding one in each hand, the intrepid safety-wolf walked step by faltering step towards the fume hood. \n\nAt least he thought he was. As the chemicals in his hands hissed and popped, each fatiguing step meant sucking in more and more air, his heavy breathing making just enough suction through the sliver-thin cuts on his hazmat suit that the roiling chemical vapors found their way inside. Each struggling breath, left Jack's head spinning, aching, pounding more and more. He managed to bump against a table, almost spilling one of the glasses.\n\n``Hey Hazmat Jack, you're going the wrong way! It's to your left!'' Left? I thought I was going left? Jack huffed as he turned to the left, or so he thought, bumping right back into the table and getting a round of laughter out of the tour. ``No silly, your other left!'' It was only then that he noticed the creeping sight of haze inside his suit. It wasn't condensation... it was gas. Gas was seeping in somehow! His heart raced, forcing him to breathe more of the noxious fumes, the plastic-coated mascot struggling to stumble across the room. Just as he started to see stars in front of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the yellow lever. With a rush, he tripped across the last few steps, throwing both vials inside. They shattered sending a wave of gas skittering out of the hood. Blinking back asphyxiation, Hazmat Jack collapsed onto the lever. As the fume hood closed, he caught sight of the words, DRAINS TO THE RIVER emblazoned on the door. There was sudden rush as the caustic chemicals were flushed with water and sucked down a drain to probably the least environmentally friendly place possible.\n\nIt took Jack a few minutes to collect himself, the source of the noxious gas gone at long last. His eyes blinked as stars popped in front of his face, the poor mascot laid slumped on the ground. The onlooking tour seemed to think it was all an act, just like the earlier mishap with the glass crusher had been. At long last, perhaps a little longer than normal dramatic effect, the mascot realized he wasn't dead and managed to slowly stagger up to his feet, using the side of the fume hood to climb back up. With unsteady legs and the plasticky suit pooling with sweat from his exhausted frame, Hazmat Jack managed to step out of the danger zone to greet the amused onlookers. Some of the tourists even looked genuinely surprised by the acting ability of the mascot, a few crowding around the costume to take selfies with him before he could do anything else. Of course, it's not like Jack had much coordination in his addled state. Even if he did there wasn't enough dexterity in his rubbery gloved hands to easily remove the bulky head and hood.\n\nAfter failing to signal to Bill that there was a problem, the tour was already on the move again, forcing Jack to have to catch up, his fogged-up face shield still catching little wisps of leftover chemical fumes as he followed along to Building Three.\n\n``Alright folks, we're here in the last building, the Electronics Reclamation site! I know you've heard a lot of politicians out there talking about how dangerous and unsanitary it is to get the precious metals and components out of our used electronics. Well we here at Greenvalley Waste Management have designed a safe and environmentally friendly way to process electronics, and that is the Circuitry and Housing Obliteration Machine Processor, or as we like to call it, C.H.O.M.P.''\n\nC.H.O.M.P. was not just any old machine, of course. The massive shredder was designed with a single large hopper at the top which would normally take oversized metal objects like cars and water tanks, and slowly reduce them down to fine bite-sized chunks of debris. The machine further processed these hunks of scrap, separating out ferrous metals from plastics and other components. It didn't seem terribly sophisticated (and in fact it was installed so the company could claim they had a reclamation plant, whether or not it actually worked), but this was the last stop on the tour, and Hazmat Jack was ready to finish so he could get out of his horrid, humid and sweaty costume.\n\n``Alright, who wants to volunteer their cell phone to see how this thing works?'' Bill asked, before laughing at the joke he's told a million times. ``Oh, that one never gets old... no need, we got a box of old electronics right he- woah, hey, who put this old Nokia phone in there? That'd probably break the machine!'' The audience let out another pity-filled chuckle as Bill laughed at his own joke again before handing the cardboard box to Hazmat Jack. Please no more jokes, Bill, he thought, already barely able to stand the chemical-induced headache he had. ``Alright Jack, let's show them how C.H.O.M.P. works! Go ahead and get to the control panel.''\n\nJack shuffled himself over to a large bank of industrial gauges and equipment attached to the huge machine. By now the constant perspiration had begun to take its toll, the first symptoms of heatstroke setting in as his leg muscles began to cramp and ache. He paused to look over the machinery, squinting with each heavy breath as he tried to spot the yellow lever he was supposed to activate. Bill shook his head and called out in his boisterous voice.\n\n``Hazmat Jack you silly, not down here! Up there!'' A few dribbles of condensation left streaks down the front of his visor hood, giving Jack a clear enough view to see Bill was pointing up. Way up. Up a two-story ladder and at the very top of a catwalk high above the crusher machine. It was distant but he could see a single strand of yellow caution tape hanging off a lever positioned in the least user-friendly place possible. Who... the hell... put... the controls...?! ``C'mon Jack, I'm sure you wanna have a well-earned break after all we've been through!'' Letting out a little muffled whine, Jack shouldered the box of Samsung phones and Casio wrist watches, balancing it precariously as he started to climb.\n\nStep. Pause. Step. Pause. Each time he pushed himself up, Jack had to readjust his squeaky rubber gloved hands on each wrung of the ladder. The tour watched with bated breath as he would occasionally shift back and forth on a wrung, the hazmat suit absolutely not designed for climbing machinery. He found himself pausing to cling helplessly to the metal ladder as he caught his breath in the near-heatstroke conditions of his suit. At long last, Jack heaved the cardboard box up onto the catwalk, with barely enough arm strength left to yank himself up onto the expanded metal grate that passed as a floor. Just do it. Just get it over with... Need to get out of this thing. Hazmat Jack staggered to his unsteady feet, pausing only to collapse back down to a knee from another deep muscle cramp. Snatching the guardrail to steady himself, he tried to catch his breath, but it was no use, there was no escaping the growing exhaustion that wracked his body. Stumbling along with the box in tow, Jack's heavy paws made resonating stomps on the metal catwalk, bouncing it up and down softly as he marched to the edge. There it was, a small control box built into a steel girder right at the end of the platform, perfectly over the shredder. He was so close he could almost touch it.\n\nFrom down below the tour watched as Jack threw the switch on the C.H.O.M.P., the gears inside lazily spooling up. They were staggered and designed to actuate individually - if the chewing teeth hit a snag one side would reverse and allow the other to try and compress, eventually clawing through anything in its path. Jack bent over to grab the box of electronics when he felt his thigh suddenly tense, another cramp causing the wolf to take a knee. The electronics box skittered off the edge of the platform and fell in a shower of old things into the shredder. Each one plopped into the open shredder mouth, a few shattering on impact, followed closely by the sound of the massive metal teeth making short work of each one, the noise of plastic and crackling metal filling the air. Jack breathed heavily, his exhausted body trying to hold on to the railing as he sat precariously on the edge, unable to see anything but the gnashing teeth below him - and even those were obscured by fog on his visor. \n\nIt happened in a flash as Jack tried to pull himself up from the edge. A leg buckled. The useless, rubber-gloved paws slapped at the railing, catching no purchase. Hazmat Jack fell, quicker than anyone had time to react, barely a chance for the crowd of onlookers to gasp and point as the mascot tumbled through the air. Jack's world spun as he did a full revolution in the long fall, arms uselessly grasping for the quickly disappearing catwalk as he plummeted towards the machinery. He slammed into the open top of the shredder machine with a muted THUD that resonated through the room. At least the suit cushioned his fall, giving Jack just a moment to react as he pushed himself up by his arms. That was when the machine took its first bite.\n\nA heavy metal claw, one of the many staggered teeth that lined the rotating cylindrical metal shredder, caught his right foot. For a brief moment he felt it pushed by the metal tooth until it met the other side of the shredder. Without stopping, the teeth gnashed through hazmat suit, mascot costume, flesh and bone alike, rending the ligaments of his foot apart and spitting out dice sized chunks of bone onto the lower conveyor belt. Jack screamed a horrid screech, completely muted by the thick layers of costume, as he flipped over onto his back, pulling the bloody stump free from the mangling wreck only to feel one of his hands and his opposite leg bind up in the next gears of the shredder. He tried to twist and stand up from the cold metal, but with one foot gone it was slick with pumping blood, making it hard to push against. As his left hand disappeared between two gnashing shredder teeth he screamed again, only to heighten the pitch as the shredder caught his left shin, splintering his lower leg and gumming up the tines with a mix of bloody plastic and faux fur.\n\n``Now... uh... don't worry everyone, Hazmat Jack is uh... just demonstrating the dangers of improper safety! He's not actually getting... hurt, it's all um... smoke and mirrors!'' The sight of a mascot costumed man flailing about on the top of a piece of heavy machinery was enough to horrify some of the visitors, but he was surprisingly quiet... maybe it was just a dummy? Of course, the tour couldn't hear the horrific screams coming from Hazmat Jack. The tightly muffled costume, coupled with the sounds of massive machinery surrounding him, made it impossible for anyone to hear his cries for help. Despite losing two feet, half a leg and a hand, Jack managed to shove himself off the rotating metal, his bloody stumps balancing precariously on the turning spindles and arms upturned in a frantic effort to try and get loose. ``See, uh... that's just a dummy that's caught in the machine, nothing to worry about folks! So, uh... hey, let's go down to the gift shop, I bet Jack's waiting for us there!'' To his horror, Hazmat Jack watched the tour group turn and leave just as the machine dug deep into his remaining left thigh, pulling him down and mincing him alive. \n\nAs the shredder jaws bit through his hip bone, the machinery let out a groan, the heavy metal not getting quite enough grip to crush through it. The horrid machine was halfway through the remaining leg, spitting out bloody rags of faux fur and shards of bone embedded in yellow plastic when it stopped, backed up momentarily and then started turning again. Jack's remaining good arm reached out helplessly towards the tour group as the shredder tine caught his hip bone and guts in one firm revolution. He looked down long enough to see the suit and flesh rupture, followed by the grotesque crack of solid bone. As the machine finally pulverized his hips, darkness began to fall over Jack's already appalling vision. Gore flowed freely onto the conveyor belt below as shock and blood loss finally conspired to quiet down the new employee.\n\nThere was a rush of movement as Bill pushed his tour group away from the room. Someone was already climbing to turn off the machinery. Someone else was trying to call an ambulance just as the crusher tore through Hazmat Jack's chest in a burst of bloody splatter. Just as Jack's comically fluffy head, hazmat visor and all, was grabbed by the shredder, the machine stalled trying to break the solid human skull within. One of the tour members turned back just long enough to watch the shredder suck the hazmat plastic away, leaving just the mascot head upturned and jerking, the mouth opening and closing as the machine tried to fix the jam. The tourist watched, wondering if that really was a costume... before turning around and walking away, unable to hear the machine finally crushing through Hazmat Jack's skull in a brilliant display of fluff and brain matter.\n\nThe workers at Greenvalley Waste Management were picking fur out of the electronics debris for months to come. Of course, nobody got in trouble for the accident even after it was reported - after all, there was nobody on the payroll named Hazmat Jack.\n\n PAGE \\* MERGEFORMAT 2 \n\nRunning Afoul of OSHA\n\nWritten by Choice Cuts Deli\n\nCommission for HikaruWolf47 | July 2020 | 5045 Words\n\n(c) 2020 Choice Cuts Deli Freelance Author \n\nAll Rights Reserved\n\n",
"writing_bbcode_parsed": "Well, at least it isn't flipping signs for temp work out by the highway, the newest employee at Greenvalley Waste Management told himself as he stepped his feet into the mascot costume. Hazmat Jack, the tooney safety-wolf and company mascot emblazoned on everything that Greenvalley produced, was not like a mascot costume you would find at an amusement park. Of course, the grey furred canine with the adorable red tuft was furry and fluffy on the inside, if a little `perpetually moist' as the boss would comment. No, what differed about this costume was the fact that Hazmat Jack wore a full-sized yellow hazmat suit around the outside of the already bulky costume, encasing every part of the already fully functional mascot body, from the toes to the happy smiling head. Someone back in the day must have had the bright idea of saving a few bucks by shoving a used full-sized mascot costume inside of some laying around hazmat suit and boom: company mascot. As the freshly minted employee slipped the cartoony head over his own, he was surprised to find the fit comfortable, if ungainly.
``Ahh, there we go!'' said a voice from behind him, causing the 20-something year old to turn around with an audible squeak to the hazmat suit. While the plastic visor wasn't obscured, it certainly distorted his view under the bright florescent lights in the company locker room. He could see the form of the executive who hired him just this morning, some Bronx-accented big-wig with slicked back hair and more gold rings on his fingers than anyone had business owning. ``See, I knew you'd fit! Sorry about making you do this, kid. But the guy who usually does the tours called out sick today, and with that big lawsuit over safety violations pending we gotta put on a big smile for people who wanna see that Greenvalley Waste Management does the job clean, efficient, and most of all, safe!''
``Mmm-mmm... Uhhhhh... Mmnn?'' His voice was horribly muffled behind the visor and mascot head.
``Hey hey! Hazmat Jack doesn't talk, didn't you even read the script, kid?'' Hazmat Jack let out a frustrated grunt and shook his head, the boss suddenly looking nervous, ``Oh... oh geeze, uh, one second.'' The executive rushed over to one of the lockers, clicking it open and rummaging through someone's personal effects before turning back and handing him a stained and folded sheaf of papers. ``Here ya go, I don't think the usual guy will mind you using his copy.'' Hazmat Jack looked down at the papers, the new employee scowling at the exec's invasion of his workers' privacy. But before he could do anything the man chuckled, ``I'll let you read it over, gotta get ready for my interview with Channel 5. And, uh... if you see them don't let them into the used battery dump in Building Four, we haven't cleaned all the blood off the walls yet.''
Without explaining that revelation any further, the exec was off, answering his phone with a loud `Yello! Greenvalley Waste Management!' and leaving Hazmat Jack all alone in the locker room holding the stained paper. He sighed, the suit already becoming warm all around him and smelling like it was only ever cleaned using bowling alley shoe spray. At least breathing through his mouth rendered the smell tolerable, even if the costume felt like he was wearing a damp full-body gym sock. He grunted as he smooshed the smudgy paper up against his visor, squinting through Hazmat Jack's eye holes as he tried to read the script. A brief glance showed there was three parts to the tour: Household Waste, Hazardous Chemical Disposal and Electronics Reclamation. He barely got through the first section when he heard someone calling out behind him.
``There you are, kid, c'mon! We're almost late for the 3:15 tour!'' A lifelong waste-management worker, sporting a beer gut, jeans, a florescent yellow vest and hard hat to hide his balding head, was tapping his foot in the doorway leading out to the main floor. Hazmat Jack's happy grin stared blankly back as the new employee tried to pantomime he hadn't even read through the script, his mumbling equally unintelligible. ``...look, kid, I get it. The job is real easy. You gotta just walk along with me. Smile and wave, take pictures with the tour.'' That didn't sound quite like what he had read, but Hazmat Jack couldn't say no. He stood up to his feet, toes curling in the moist footpaws as he got used to the sensation of being in a double-layered suit. His tour guide handler smiled, giving him a slap on the back as he exited the locker room, before rather absentmindedly adding, ``Oh yeah, and you'll need to throw a few levers to operate the machines. Nothing special, they're all marked with bright yellow caution tape.''
Operate the machines? In this thing? Are they serious? It was too late to turn back now. With his handler at his back, Jack walked down the long hallway to the main processing floor where a small group of tourists were waiting. Two sets of parents who had obviously dragged their bored teenage kids along as a cheap way to entertain them on a hot summer day. A few interested single tourists were intermingled with them, some likely drawn in from the purported poor safety record of the plant. Each one had been given an official GWM branded Hazmat Jack tote bag full of goodies, some balloons and stickers, a Hazmat Jack coloring book and crayons, and one of every brochure they had. Basically, anything that was leftover in the back of the marketing cabinet. They milled about with the enthusiasm you'd expect from a group visiting a waste management facility.
``Oh god they got a Hazmat Jack!'' Someone in the crowd called out and pointed. Jack had some trouble hearing it, but the inflection signaled it was time to start waving and smiling.
``Ohhh-kay, is everyone here for the 3:15 tour?'' The beer bellied man said with a smile as he gathered everyone around, ``My name is Bill Crusherson, Senior Junior Assistant Manager at the Greenvalley Waste Management plant. I've worked here for about 22 years now, so I know all the ins and outs of this facility.'' His tenure also probably helped him get this cushy break showing tourists around the plant. ``And my friend here needs no introduction, this is our Mascot and all-around safety friend, Hazmat Jack!'' Jack smiled and waved, making a few inventive poses that probably came off more goofy than cool. ``And today we're gonna explore all the ways that GWM manages your waste, responsibly, ethically and safely!'' Jack tried to follow along with what was going on, but the suit made it hard to hear anyone talking even a few feet away, let alone on the floor of an active waste management facility. He followed the group, walking behind in a responsible attempt to make sure everyone stayed in line as Bill talked about the history of waste collection and how the garbage collection facility got to be `the region's largest waste management facility.'
The longer he stayed in the costume the more the guy in Hazmat Jack began to sweat, his warm breath only adding to the muggy air inside of the suit. His thighs slowly began to mat down the fur surrounding his body, occasional sweat beads dripping off. They hadn't even gotten to the first display machines and he was already starting to wish he had guzzled extra water on his fifteen-minute break. Jack found himself turning from the small internal hallway into Building One, the Household Waste building. Bill gave a quick head count to the tour, before smiling up at Jack and pointing to the door of a loading bay where a large green and white garbage truck had backed into. Jack got the hint and sauntered himself over to the door while Bill started his talk.
``So here's the heart of GWM's facility, and the place where we give back to our community! The Household Waste building is where anything you throw out at your home or business ends up. If you've been paying attention to our latest news, we've recently implemented Single Stream Garbage protocols. That means you don't have to sort out your recycling from your garbage - we do that for you! In fact, why don't you show the nice people here how it's done, Hazmat Jack!'' Everyone turned around to see Jack standing by the garbage truck in the loading bay door with the same dumb-happy grin on his face as always. The man inside the outfit was completely confused as to what he was supposed to do. A moment or two passed and Bill said, ``Uh, the lever behind you, Jack?'' He turned around and squinted through the mascot head and hood before he realized that someone had wrapped this truck's release lever in yellow caution tape, like he had been told before.
Pulling on the lever the massive garbage truck whirred, hydraulics hissing, much to the chagrin of the younger ones on the tour. The garbage truck sloooowly tilted up, up, up until the back end opened, dumping a foul mix of trash and trash bags, skittering bottles and shards of tin cans falling out with them into a pile on the ground. For once, Jack was happy to be inside the suit, as the tour almost simultaneously reacted to the smell of garbage with revulsion. ``It's okay, folks, you get used to it when you work here for 22 years! Haha... so Jack, grab a bag of garbage and bring it over to the garbage chute over there.'' Jack looked down at the fetid pile at his feet, eyeing the rubbery gloves he wore over the oversized wolf paws. With a little frustration he carefully managed to grab a bag of garbage, the outside only a little wet with water of unknown origin and carried it over to a large chute labeled Station One. ``Whatever you do, Jack, don't fall in there! That'll take ya right down the conveyor belt to the Incinerator Building. We don't wanna see you go up in smoke!''
Jack was huffing as he hefted the bag along, whatever it was, the contents were awkward and swaying a little as he wrangled it to the chute. Sweat dripped down his brow as he chucked the black plastic bag into the hopper, letting it bounce off the side before sliding down and being whisked away on the conveyor belt.
``Oh come on Jack, you can do better than that! Go grab another one!'' Easy for you to say, you're not the one in the damn suit. Jack growled and shuffled his way back, acutely aware of the sweat beading off his thighs, the weighty tail clinging to his backside as he picked up another bag, this one a white kitchen bag. As he shuffled back, he found it harder and harder to walk with the weight of the garbage in his hands, grunting quietly and breathing heavy all the while. It was then that he made his first mistake, a minor one but a mistake none-the-less. His broad footpaw, clad in the squeaky hazmat suit, stumbled. Maybe it was carelessness, maybe it was the first stages of heat exhaustion. But Hazmat Jack found himself tripping headlong towards the hopper he had been so clearly warned not to fall into. He kicked his legs, letting out a muffled little yelp as his whole body slammed into the side of the hopper. The bag of trash flew out of his hands hitting the conveyor belt with a wet PLAP and disappearing down the roughly man-sized corridor. At the mouth of the hopper, Jack grasped for his life, clumsy wolf paws and slippery rubber suit grabbing at whatever he could. Somehow, he managed to get enough of a hold on the outside of the hopper so he didn't tip over the edge and fall in. His heart was racing as he stood there on the precipice, looking down into the abyss. Getting his bearings again Hazmat Jack turned around to see Bill pointing impatiently at the next machine. Seriously? You... didn't just see me almost fall in? ...or do you not care?
``C'mon Hazmat Jack, get over to Station Two and show them how we process glass!'' Jack felt like he had already run a mile in the hot summer sun as he sauntered over to the glass crusher machine. For demonstration purposes a big box of glass bottles had already been set out next to the caution-taped lever. At least this part was easy: Put bottles in machine, pull lever. As Jack began pouring the large box of beer and soda bottles inside, Bill continued his explanation. ``Remember, this is just a taste of what we do to separate out the recyclables from the garbage. Station Three and Station Four behind me are all set up to handle plastic and metals. But those aren't nearly as fun as glass! Let'er rip, Hazmat Jack!''
As the last of the bottles tinkled into place on the flat surface of the glass crusher, Jack wondered how the machine actually worked. But with the command from Bill he blindly yanked on the lever and found out, much to his horror. The entire weight of the crusher machine came straight down onto the bottles, a sudden SMASH as they all popped simultaneously. The machine was not self-contained, there wasn't even a safety door on the hopper. The one that Hazmat Jack was looking straight down into. Shards of glass shot out from the crusher, the tiny slivers hitting Jack right in the face and upper body. It happened so fast he couldn't even close his eyes. After his heart skipped several beats, he was greeted by a loud cheer from the surprised tour group, who thought it was all part of the act. Perhaps it was, because his clear plastic face visor had stood up to the abuse surprisingly well. However, as the tour group wandered their way down the hallway to Building Two, nobody would ever guess that the tiny fragments had pierced the yellow plastic with razor thin nicks, the glass imbedding harmlessly into the mascot costume underneath. The suit was no better ventilated of course, but now it was useless against noxious chemicals, one of the few redeeming qualities of using a functioning hazmat suit for the mascot character.
``Over here in Building Two, which we added in 1987, Greenvalley Waste Management processes hazardous and noxious chemicals so they're rendered safe for disposal in eco-friendly manners.'' Bill grinned as he brought the tour group to a large glass window where they could see into the dangerous waste containment area. ``Alright Jack go on through the airlock door over there.'' Hazmat Jack looked confused at what he had to do exactly, but Bill didn't give him a chance to ask questions, ushering him through the airlock door. As he stepped through into the dangerous zone, Bill's voice came on over an intercom speaker. ``Okay Jack, to your left is a box that contains two dangerous chemicals! I need you to just open them up, walk them over to the fume hood, put them inside and pull the yellow lever. Easy.''
While Bill explained the process of Hydro-Intensive Dilution to the tour group, Hazmat Jack busied himself digging around for the box. It wasn't easy of course because by now, about half an hour into the tour, Jack's visor to his hazmat suit had begun to fog with condensation welling up inside of the suit. There was no way to wipe the interior off, leaving him with no choice but to squint and move slowly, each step causing the his sweat-soaked footpaws to make squishing noises with each step. If he weren't sweating his ass off, the first signs of exhaustion kicking in, Jack would find his situation laughable. After a bit of fumbling he found the box, inside two large vials of caustic chemicals in glass containers. They hissed and seethed a cloudy vapor from the necks of each vial. Jack assumed that this was just dry ice, after all... nobody would really use noxious chemicals for a demonstration... would they? Holding one in each hand, the intrepid safety-wolf walked step by faltering step towards the fume hood.
At least he thought he was. As the chemicals in his hands hissed and popped, each fatiguing step meant sucking in more and more air, his heavy breathing making just enough suction through the sliver-thin cuts on his hazmat suit that the roiling chemical vapors found their way inside. Each struggling breath, left Jack's head spinning, aching, pounding more and more. He managed to bump against a table, almost spilling one of the glasses.
``Hey Hazmat Jack, you're going the wrong way! It's to your left!'' Left? I thought I was going left? Jack huffed as he turned to the left, or so he thought, bumping right back into the table and getting a round of laughter out of the tour. ``No silly, your other left!'' It was only then that he noticed the creeping sight of haze inside his suit. It wasn't condensation... it was gas. Gas was seeping in somehow! His heart raced, forcing him to breathe more of the noxious fumes, the plastic-coated mascot struggling to stumble across the room. Just as he started to see stars in front of his eyes, he caught a glimpse of the yellow lever. With a rush, he tripped across the last few steps, throwing both vials inside. They shattered sending a wave of gas skittering out of the hood. Blinking back asphyxiation, Hazmat Jack collapsed onto the lever. As the fume hood closed, he caught sight of the words, DRAINS TO THE RIVER emblazoned on the door. There was sudden rush as the caustic chemicals were flushed with water and sucked down a drain to probably the least environmentally friendly place possible.
It took Jack a few minutes to collect himself, the source of the noxious gas gone at long last. His eyes blinked as stars popped in front of his face, the poor mascot laid slumped on the ground. The onlooking tour seemed to think it was all an act, just like the earlier mishap with the glass crusher had been. At long last, perhaps a little longer than normal dramatic effect, the mascot realized he wasn't dead and managed to slowly stagger up to his feet, using the side of the fume hood to climb back up. With unsteady legs and the plasticky suit pooling with sweat from his exhausted frame, Hazmat Jack managed to step out of the danger zone to greet the amused onlookers. Some of the tourists even looked genuinely surprised by the acting ability of the mascot, a few crowding around the costume to take selfies with him before he could do anything else. Of course, it's not like Jack had much coordination in his addled state. Even if he did there wasn't enough dexterity in his rubbery gloved hands to easily remove the bulky head and hood.
After failing to signal to Bill that there was a problem, the tour was already on the move again, forcing Jack to have to catch up, his fogged-up face shield still catching little wisps of leftover chemical fumes as he followed along to Building Three.
``Alright folks, we're here in the last building, the Electronics Reclamation site! I know you've heard a lot of politicians out there talking about how dangerous and unsanitary it is to get the precious metals and components out of our used electronics. Well we here at Greenvalley Waste Management have designed a safe and environmentally friendly way to process electronics, and that is the Circuitry and Housing Obliteration Machine Processor, or as we like to call it, C.H.O.M.P.''
C.H.O.M.P. was not just any old machine, of course. The massive shredder was designed with a single large hopper at the top which would normally take oversized metal objects like cars and water tanks, and slowly reduce them down to fine bite-sized chunks of debris. The machine further processed these hunks of scrap, separating out ferrous metals from plastics and other components. It didn't seem terribly sophisticated (and in fact it was installed so the company could claim they had a reclamation plant, whether or not it actually worked), but this was the last stop on the tour, and Hazmat Jack was ready to finish so he could get out of his horrid, humid and sweaty costume.
``Alright, who wants to volunteer their cell phone to see how this thing works?'' Bill asked, before laughing at the joke he's told a million times. ``Oh, that one never gets old... no need, we got a box of old electronics right he- woah, hey, who put this old Nokia phone in there? That'd probably break the machine!'' The audience let out another pity-filled chuckle as Bill laughed at his own joke again before handing the cardboard box to Hazmat Jack. Please no more jokes, Bill, he thought, already barely able to stand the chemical-induced headache he had. ``Alright Jack, let's show them how C.H.O.M.P. works! Go ahead and get to the control panel.''
Jack shuffled himself over to a large bank of industrial gauges and equipment attached to the huge machine. By now the constant perspiration had begun to take its toll, the first symptoms of heatstroke setting in as his leg muscles began to cramp and ache. He paused to look over the machinery, squinting with each heavy breath as he tried to spot the yellow lever he was supposed to activate. Bill shook his head and called out in his boisterous voice.
``Hazmat Jack you silly, not down here! Up there!'' A few dribbles of condensation left streaks down the front of his visor hood, giving Jack a clear enough view to see Bill was pointing up. Way up. Up a two-story ladder and at the very top of a catwalk high above the crusher machine. It was distant but he could see a single strand of yellow caution tape hanging off a lever positioned in the least user-friendly place possible. Who... the hell... put... the controls...?! ``C'mon Jack, I'm sure you wanna have a well-earned break after all we've been through!'' Letting out a little muffled whine, Jack shouldered the box of Samsung phones and Casio wrist watches, balancing it precariously as he started to climb.
Step. Pause. Step. Pause. Each time he pushed himself up, Jack had to readjust his squeaky rubber gloved hands on each wrung of the ladder. The tour watched with bated breath as he would occasionally shift back and forth on a wrung, the hazmat suit absolutely not designed for climbing machinery. He found himself pausing to cling helplessly to the metal ladder as he caught his breath in the near-heatstroke conditions of his suit. At long last, Jack heaved the cardboard box up onto the catwalk, with barely enough arm strength left to yank himself up onto the expanded metal grate that passed as a floor. Just do it. Just get it over with... Need to get out of this thing. Hazmat Jack staggered to his unsteady feet, pausing only to collapse back down to a knee from another deep muscle cramp. Snatching the guardrail to steady himself, he tried to catch his breath, but it was no use, there was no escaping the growing exhaustion that wracked his body. Stumbling along with the box in tow, Jack's heavy paws made resonating stomps on the metal catwalk, bouncing it up and down softly as he marched to the edge. There it was, a small control box built into a steel girder right at the end of the platform, perfectly over the shredder. He was so close he could almost touch it.
From down below the tour watched as Jack threw the switch on the C.H.O.M.P., the gears inside lazily spooling up. They were staggered and designed to actuate individually - if the chewing teeth hit a snag one side would reverse and allow the other to try and compress, eventually clawing through anything in its path. Jack bent over to grab the box of electronics when he felt his thigh suddenly tense, another cramp causing the wolf to take a knee. The electronics box skittered off the edge of the platform and fell in a shower of old things into the shredder. Each one plopped into the open shredder mouth, a few shattering on impact, followed closely by the sound of the massive metal teeth making short work of each one, the noise of plastic and crackling metal filling the air. Jack breathed heavily, his exhausted body trying to hold on to the railing as he sat precariously on the edge, unable to see anything but the gnashing teeth below him - and even those were obscured by fog on his visor.
It happened in a flash as Jack tried to pull himself up from the edge. A leg buckled. The useless, rubber-gloved paws slapped at the railing, catching no purchase. Hazmat Jack fell, quicker than anyone had time to react, barely a chance for the crowd of onlookers to gasp and point as the mascot tumbled through the air. Jack's world spun as he did a full revolution in the long fall, arms uselessly grasping for the quickly disappearing catwalk as he plummeted towards the machinery. He slammed into the open top of the shredder machine with a muted THUD that resonated through the room. At least the suit cushioned his fall, giving Jack just a moment to react as he pushed himself up by his arms. That was when the machine took its first bite.
A heavy metal claw, one of the many staggered teeth that lined the rotating cylindrical metal shredder, caught his right foot. For a brief moment he felt it pushed by the metal tooth until it met the other side of the shredder. Without stopping, the teeth gnashed through hazmat suit, mascot costume, flesh and bone alike, rending the ligaments of his foot apart and spitting out dice sized chunks of bone onto the lower conveyor belt. Jack screamed a horrid screech, completely muted by the thick layers of costume, as he flipped over onto his back, pulling the bloody stump free from the mangling wreck only to feel one of his hands and his opposite leg bind up in the next gears of the shredder. He tried to twist and stand up from the cold metal, but with one foot gone it was slick with pumping blood, making it hard to push against. As his left hand disappeared between two gnashing shredder teeth he screamed again, only to heighten the pitch as the shredder caught his left shin, splintering his lower leg and gumming up the tines with a mix of bloody plastic and faux fur.
``Now... uh... don't worry everyone, Hazmat Jack is uh... just demonstrating the dangers of improper safety! He's not actually getting... hurt, it's all um... smoke and mirrors!'' The sight of a mascot costumed man flailing about on the top of a piece of heavy machinery was enough to horrify some of the visitors, but he was surprisingly quiet... maybe it was just a dummy? Of course, the tour couldn't hear the horrific screams coming from Hazmat Jack. The tightly muffled costume, coupled with the sounds of massive machinery surrounding him, made it impossible for anyone to hear his cries for help. Despite losing two feet, half a leg and a hand, Jack managed to shove himself off the rotating metal, his bloody stumps balancing precariously on the turning spindles and arms upturned in a frantic effort to try and get loose. ``See, uh... that's just a dummy that's caught in the machine, nothing to worry about folks! So, uh... hey, let's go down to the gift shop, I bet Jack's waiting for us there!'' To his horror, Hazmat Jack watched the tour group turn and leave just as the machine dug deep into his remaining left thigh, pulling him down and mincing him alive.
As the shredder jaws bit through his hip bone, the machinery let out a groan, the heavy metal not getting quite enough grip to crush through it. The horrid machine was halfway through the remaining leg, spitting out bloody rags of faux fur and shards of bone embedded in yellow plastic when it stopped, backed up momentarily and then started turning again. Jack's remaining good arm reached out helplessly towards the tour group as the shredder tine caught his hip bone and guts in one firm revolution. He looked down long enough to see the suit and flesh rupture, followed by the grotesque crack of solid bone. As the machine finally pulverized his hips, darkness began to fall over Jack's already appalling vision. Gore flowed freely onto the conveyor belt below as shock and blood loss finally conspired to quiet down the new employee.
There was a rush of movement as Bill pushed his tour group away from the room. Someone was already climbing to turn off the machinery. Someone else was trying to call an ambulance just as the crusher tore through Hazmat Jack's chest in a burst of bloody splatter. Just as Jack's comically fluffy head, hazmat visor and all, was grabbed by the shredder, the machine stalled trying to break the solid human skull within. One of the tour members turned back just long enough to watch the shredder suck the hazmat plastic away, leaving just the mascot head upturned and jerking, the mouth opening and closing as the machine tried to fix the jam. The tourist watched, wondering if that really was a costume... before turning around and walking away, unable to hear the machine finally crushing through Hazmat Jack's skull in a brilliant display of fluff and brain matter.
The workers at Greenvalley Waste Management were picking fur out of the electronics debris for months to come. Of course, nobody got in trouble for the accident even after it was reported - after all, there was nobody on the payroll named Hazmat Jack.
PAGE \\* MERGEFORMAT 2
Running Afoul of OSHA
Written by Choice Cuts Deli
Commission for HikaruWolf47 | July 2020 | 5045 Words
(c) 2020 Choice Cuts Deli Freelance Author
All Rights Reserved
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