"No. I'm fucking telling you, if we do it that way you're just begging it to come down with the next thunderstorm, much less a quake. Dig deeper, sink the post, it'll be shorter but we're working with shit all anyway." He rolls his eyes, as the other construction crew moves on to another project. "Fine. I'll dig the damn hole myself, fuckin' prick." He sets to doing just that, stomping the shovel head into the earth. "Shouldn't even have to do this shit..." He mutters- he doesn't seem to notice the other party for a long moment, placing a cigarette between his lips. "What. What do you fucking want?" He snaps. "Don't gawk at me like it's some performance, half these fucking idiots are gonna get us into another death-trap without help, I don't want to die."
There's something more to this, doing the work himself, dressed in simple cotton tee under a sheepskin denim jacket isn't... Mercy, after all. "You have anything important to say or are you just here to stare at me? Because I'm clearly busy- which you could be! Become a productive member of society. Or what-the-fuck-ever."
