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<blockquote data-quote="Fridayknight" data-source="post: 5230184" data-attributes="member: 87391"><p>Hey, lets get to business. First, id like you to know I don't actually work in drilling nor do i have children.</p><p></p><p></p><p>"I rolled my eyes. Reflected in the cool glow of the computer monitor, I yawn, dreading that I actually now have work to do. The inbox of Outlook had 15 new mails and none were five minute cases, with 2 being full reports on the engineering of the drill. Munching a biscuit and spurred to work by the gaze of my boss, I opened up the first and delved in.</p><p></p><p>About 10 minutes had gone by when the new guy opened the door of the office. I hadn't seen him yet, only reading about him in a referral from his old department, but he looked proper. He sat down, after introducing himself to me, and logged on to his account. Even though I did not know him he seemed strange, in a sinister way. I got back to work; after all, he was only here part-time.</p><p></p><p>Time passed slowly, but eventually the afternoon coffee break arrived, awaited by all the staff like a redeeming messiah. On my way to the dispensing machine I passed the man's cubicle, which was arranged similar to everyone else's, and stole a passing glance at the screen while he was out. It seemed like he was on the electrical power system for the drilling plant, which I could not remember was on his work description. I thought nothing of it and continued on.</p><p></p><p>After the day at work I caught the boat back to the mainland for my weekend, happy to have some time at home seeing my family. Arriving on the pier some hours later, I stretched my legs and headed home. The children greeted me at the door, well, most of them - with my teenage son being the exception. The aroma of spices wafted from the kitchen and I walked in, shrugging off my bag on the floor, to greet my wife. The weekend passed like any other, restful but still not long enough.</p><p></p><p>Monday morning came in all the grey dour mood that it brings to office workers all over the states. I walked briskly to the docks, both because of the chill from the sea and the time. Having approached the concrete edge of the land, I was stopped by one of your men in a black suit. The man told me of the situation at the rig. The electrical systems had been wired to the oil pipe by a terrorist and the spark had set the rig on fire. A video, filmed by a fisherman, was shown to me of the billowing dark clouds of smoke and the pools of black oil spreading in the ocean.</p><p></p><p>With the excuse that all who worked on the rig could be suspects, your man took my sleeve and half-dragged me to the long blue bus that waited down the road. I did, at that point, complain about his manhandling and shouted my rights at him. His hand came down on the side of my neck and I blacked out. When I awoke, I was here and you came in that door.</p><p></p><p>Now you see, I am not a terrorist, so let me out."</p><p></p><p>"I'm sorry, we cant do that" the opposite man said.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fridayknight, post: 5230184, member: 87391"] Hey, lets get to business. First, id like you to know I don't actually work in drilling nor do i have children. "I rolled my eyes. Reflected in the cool glow of the computer monitor, I yawn, dreading that I actually now have work to do. The inbox of Outlook had 15 new mails and none were five minute cases, with 2 being full reports on the engineering of the drill. Munching a biscuit and spurred to work by the gaze of my boss, I opened up the first and delved in. About 10 minutes had gone by when the new guy opened the door of the office. I hadn't seen him yet, only reading about him in a referral from his old department, but he looked proper. He sat down, after introducing himself to me, and logged on to his account. Even though I did not know him he seemed strange, in a sinister way. I got back to work; after all, he was only here part-time. Time passed slowly, but eventually the afternoon coffee break arrived, awaited by all the staff like a redeeming messiah. On my way to the dispensing machine I passed the man's cubicle, which was arranged similar to everyone else's, and stole a passing glance at the screen while he was out. It seemed like he was on the electrical power system for the drilling plant, which I could not remember was on his work description. I thought nothing of it and continued on. After the day at work I caught the boat back to the mainland for my weekend, happy to have some time at home seeing my family. Arriving on the pier some hours later, I stretched my legs and headed home. The children greeted me at the door, well, most of them - with my teenage son being the exception. The aroma of spices wafted from the kitchen and I walked in, shrugging off my bag on the floor, to greet my wife. The weekend passed like any other, restful but still not long enough. Monday morning came in all the grey dour mood that it brings to office workers all over the states. I walked briskly to the docks, both because of the chill from the sea and the time. Having approached the concrete edge of the land, I was stopped by one of your men in a black suit. The man told me of the situation at the rig. The electrical systems had been wired to the oil pipe by a terrorist and the spark had set the rig on fire. A video, filmed by a fisherman, was shown to me of the billowing dark clouds of smoke and the pools of black oil spreading in the ocean. With the excuse that all who worked on the rig could be suspects, your man took my sleeve and half-dragged me to the long blue bus that waited down the road. I did, at that point, complain about his manhandling and shouted my rights at him. His hand came down on the side of my neck and I blacked out. When I awoke, I was here and you came in that door. Now you see, I am not a terrorist, so let me out." "I'm sorry, we cant do that" the opposite man said. [/QUOTE]
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