>>4611994I opened the door to the warehouse and entered a sweatshop full of Leavanny. My Uncle Bob owned the place. It was miserable, dirty, and smelled like shit. Scores of Leavanny worked at sewing machines in dirty, unsafe conditions with very few breaks. They often pissed and shit in little jugs next to their workstations. I saw Uncle Bob in his sweater-vest and suspenders smoking his usual cigar in his smoky, dimly lit office.
“Ah, Ronny. Good to see you. What brings you here?” Uncle Bob asked.
“Have you seen my Roselia?” I asked.
“Ah, yeah. I seen her. She wanted a pair of pants, so I sent her to the reject pile for scraps.” Uncle Bob said.
“All right. Thanks.” I said.
“Oh, and if you catch any of the workers slacking I opened the door to the warehouse and entered a sweatshop full of Leavanny. My Uncle Bob owned the place. It was miserable, dirty, and smelled like shit. Scores of Leavanny worked at sewing machines in dirty, unsafe conditions with very few breaks. They often pissed and shit in little jugs next to their workstations. I saw Uncle Bob in his sweater-vest and suspenders smoking his usual cigar in his smoky, dimly lit office.
“Ah, Ronny. Good to see you. What brings you here?” Uncle Bob asked.
“Have you seen my Roselia?” I asked.
“Ah, yeah. I seen her. She wanted a pair of pants, so I sent her to the reject pile for scraps.” Uncle Bob said.
“All right. Thanks.” I said.
“Oh, and if you catch any of the workers slacking off let me know while you’re back there.” He said.
“No problem, Uncle Bob.”
