Ohuck and Tzank weren’t talking to each other.
Ohuck was the Nuts foreman, and Hank was the bolts foreman, and they’d had a heated disagreement the previous month about which was more important in the fastening world, the nut or the bolt.
“Well, of course it’s bolts,” Tzank had said. “Drill a hole in two pieces of metal, wood whatever! Ain’t no nut keepin’ them together.”
The men and women on the bolts production line had always taken that for granted, but Ohuck wasn’t having it. “Maybe so,” he’d said. “But the nut is the only think keeping the bolt from doing a half-ass job.”
Tzank had gone ballistic. “You saying bolts ain’t nothin’?”
But Ohuck had stood his ground. “I’m sayin’ nuts keep bolts honest!”
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For the next 15 minutes they’d taken turns giving each other roundhouse blows to the face, which was the way this union shop worked. From that day forward from the moment the lunch whistle blew at noon to when it blow again at 1 pm, Ohuck and Tzank would sit belligerently across from each other and eat. Not so much a stare down, more of a ‘what are YOU lookin’ at’ kind of an affair.
It made everybody self-conscious initially, but eventually even people who used to go out for lunch would brown-bag it, or go in together on some delivery or take out so they could the on-going standoff.
For months, they sat across from each other in the lunchroom of the Lower Parmington Nuts and Bolts Factory, looking at each as they ate whatever lunch they had brought that day.
Momentous events can make most men rise above petty differences and join to fight a common foe. So when the rogue communist scientist Doktor Huzz used his protonuclear fission ray to turned the world’s dolphins into an army of bird-badgers under his command, they continued unabated.
Ohuck and Tzank weren’t those kind of men.