Pool_1

Marcus', "You gotta be,.." was cut off by Jake's continuation, "He doesn't push buttons. At least he won’t drive you nuts like this guy," fingering Ringer. Ringer was a mumbling moron who could not stop pressing the emergency bell on the freight elevator. The cooks provided for their own sanity by keeping Ringer away, occupied, constantly sending him on errands to the furthest recesses of the kitchen stock room for a single can of one thing or another, anything, and then sending the last can back. It was so obvious, transparent and stupid. He never caught on. Ringer rang the freight elevator bell at every possible opportunity. Every single trip on that elevator, rinnnnnnnnng. Rinnnnnnnnng, all the way down, rinnnnnnnnng, all the way up. No, the bell could not be disarmed due to hospital regs and frequent inspections. "Ringer! I'm going to rip your stupid throat out if you don't get your fingers off that buzzer!" the head cook screamed, "I need a can of asparagus. Now!" Asparagus was the furthest away and hardest to get at item in the stock room. He went. Just as soon as the requested can was in the cook's left hand his right hand thrust forward an identical can, the last can, "Ringer! I have an extra can of asparagus. Put this back in the stock room. Now!" He went. This went on all day. Hour after hour. Trip after stupid needless trip. All were grateful that the trip to the stockroom was a good fifteen minutes and added to that, asparagus was carefully placed to be impossible to get to, under and behind several rows and layers of stacked canned stuff that had to be removed and replaced every single time. The cooks saw to that. The third guy, Layon, "Layon? As in Lay on the floor?" "No. Layon as in listen to the Layon roaring."