A Letter to the Freaky Factory Thief
Dear Purple Grundo Sir,
Hello. I am a worker at what me and my coworkers have come to call the "Freaky Factory", one of Krelufun’s toy factories. I have seen you there, on my shift, stealing toys from the line after I have just made them. I won’t ask you why you do such things, I only ask that you stop. I implore that you please, please stop.
For one thing, you’re making my job a lot harder than it needs to be, and I am not the one you need to be punishing. I know that you think you’re hurting Dr. Sloth in your thievery, but I promise you, he his not hurt in the slightest by your acts. You know who is? Me. And me alone. I am not your enemy, sir. I am just another cog in the wretched machine we call Dr. Sloth’s Empire. A cog with bills to pay. A cog that you’re actively trying to… throw… rust on? Okay, that metaphor broke down pretty quickly. You get my point.
And let’s talk about the margin you must be making off these toys. It seems like you’ve dropped a hefty amount of neopoints to go as unnoticed as possible in our factory. Painted purple, with an outfit that perfectly matches our piping system? I mean, that’s some dedication, I’ll give you that. But how much of that are you really making back by selling our figures? I know I personally shoo you off the line anytime I see you (distracting me from my work, I might add,) and I would assume my coworkers would do the same on their shifts.
So how many toys are you actually getting out of the factory each day? And how much do you make off of them, considering you have to undercut Sloth’s prices pretty significantly to be noticed by the general public? But then also, you can’t go too noticed because then you’ll seem pretty suspicious, right?
Maybe you’re funded by the Thieves’ Guild or something. I hadn’t considered that. I have heard that Kanrik’s underlings have an affinity for bright, colorful things. And maybe that’s where you got your training in the first place. But I didn’t think they’d expand as far as Kreludor, you know? Maybe they’re just sending you on one-man missions? No, that doesn’t make sense either...
I’m getting side tracked from my point.
My point is, get a job. Get a real job. Maybe you think you’re a revolutionary, and maybe somehow that's what you wanted to be when you grew up, but you’re really just kind of a jerk who steals things. And stealing things - particularly toys - isn’t a revolution.
The Employment Agency is a good place to start looking for real, actual jobs that don’t inconvenience people who also have real, actual jobs. It’s no revolutionary work, but I must also again stress that you aren’t doing revolutionary work in the first place, so you really have nothing to lose.
If you need references, I will happily be a reference for you. I’ll speak of your persistence and dedication, your ability to work under pressure, your speed… I’ll give you a glowing recommendation, just as long as you promise to stop. Stealing. From. My. Line.
Speaking of your persistence, how many times have I hit you with falling Kreludite? Those blobs are highly unstable. I’m sure you’ve seen some of the weird - and sometimes unwanted - effects it can have on the toys. As workers, we’re advised not to go near the vats to clean them until they’ve been fully drained and the overhead lines have been shut off. As it is, we have to walk on the floors covered in waste, and I can feel the tingle of energy through the soles of my shoes. And you’re willing to get bopped on the head with them day in and day out?! Are you crazy?! What could they possibly be doing to you? Aside from staining your thief getup, of course.
Speaking of, do you just have a huge stash of clean clothes somewhere inside the factory? I’ve never seen a single stain on you, but I know for a fact that Kreludite is like, impossible to get out. No amount of scrubbing under hot water will restore my shoes (or the hems of my pants, on high waste days) to their former glory…
So where could you possibly be keeping your clean getup? Did you somehow manage to claim a locker for yourself or something? Next time I’m in the locker room, I’ll look for a name plate that says something like "totally not suspicious purple Grundo" or "not a thief" or even just something dumb and simple like "Do Not Open." Do you have a lock on your locker? And how much time does it take you to undo the lock, get changed, and ditch your dirty clothes somewhere that won’t be found?
And just where exactly are you constantly buying new dark clothes from that they don’t question you? I imagine whoever owns the store you go to just opening up their newspaper and going "Oh, look at that, there’s been reports of a thief in the Krelufun factories. That’s a shame. Well, better go stock all my black beanies, ski-masks, and turtlenecks, I’m expecting that one strange and mysterious customer to buy me out again today!" Does the shopkeeper think you’re some weird goth raver or something?
I can’t even do a grocery run without the shopkeep commenting, like, "Oh wow, that sure is a lot of hot dogs! Having some friends over? Having a party? Having the family over? Should be a good time! It’s great that you’re getting such a variety, you never can tell what everyone will like!" NO, HUBERT, THESE ARE ALL FOR MYSELF. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS.
Ahem. I may have gotten off track there.
Anyway. Stop stealing from my factory. I’m begging you. Look, at this point, I don’t care if you go to another Krelufun factory and take their stu, okay? Just stop making my life harder, specifically. Do you have any idea how fast those blobs go? Do you have even the slightest idea how many toys I need to make in like, sixty seconds? If I’m busy making sure you’re nowhere near my production line, I miss the blobs I need to guide into the vats, and then I have less time to find new blobs for the current orders, and I get more stressed out, and I make more mistakes, and then there you are again, down on my line! And I have to get you out of there! And that means I miss even more blobs! And the whistle is about to blow! And if I don’t meet my quota, I’m going to be in so much trouble!
And it’s stressful. It’s very stressful. Please put yourself in my shoes for just a moment and imagine how stressful it is. Because, did I mention that my job is stressful? Because it is. I am very stressed out.
So please just… stop. I am so tired of seeing you. Please leave me alone forever.
A disgruntled factory worker.