Got a lot of mascots at Rickson Truck Wheels. Like the Blessed Virgin. When the Mazak is on the fritz, that's her, pissed off 'cause we didn't pray over our joint morning breakfast of chicken and egg sandwiches.
And then there's Metal Jesus. Dude rocks out hard, and always bangs his head when I put Torche on.
Chipper the squirrel steals my bits and calipers when I'm not looking, so I torture-racked his ass in front of the lathe. When will he be allowed down? When he stops being a jerk, that's when. Hell, it's called work for a reason. Can't be grab-assin' all damn day.
Call this dude Monkey-Paw. Keeps an eye on the disc press (currently out of operation). Get too close to his press and he'll slap ya with his...you know. The dudes who worked here before me fashioned his...you know... with bubble gum. Twisted.
This cat. I should know who he is...but I don't. Embarrassed.
Brother Bear was starved for attention- got depressed and hung himself on the tail gate latch, figuring we'd notice and go to pieces. We noticed...and we're over it. Dude never shut the hell up.
And lastly, errybody knows this 'lil dude. One of my coworker's little boys gave it to him after he got it out of a happy meal. Yeah, I was touched too. Pay no attention to the hussies in the background.
