Company Makes Employees Do Jumping Jacks After Deadly Gas Hospitalizes Supervisor

Homemade Catfish and Homemade Arby's curly fries
I cooked all this. I ate all this. But I didn’t wanna wash them dishes tho!

 

At the start of the A and B shifts at Williams-Sonoma, there’s a meeting. The manager goes over the numbers from yesterday and today, parking, housekeeping, and reminding employees not to take a second 15 minute break. At the end of the meeting, the manager calls on a volunteer to lead the stretches before work.

They bend. They twist. They turn. They shout. But ever never jumping jacks.

Because of carpal tunnel and standing up for 10 hours, throughout the day employees stretch more.

They bend. They twist. They turn. They shout. But ever never jumping jacks.

Sometimes employees have fun at work by challenging co-workers to a folding contest of robes, sheets, or towels. The loser has to “drop down and gimme 50.”

They bend. They twist. They turn. They shout. But ever never jumping jacks.

Because jumping jacks is reserved for one thing at Williams-Sonoma. And one thing only: To warn an approaching co-worker of walking into a deadly fart.

I heard a bubbling sound in my stomach. It traveled to my ass. I had a bubble butt. The restroom is on the other side of the warehouse. I thought it was a waste of time to walk 70 feet to fart unless I had to pee too.  I had to make sure no one was around. I didn’t know if it was gone be silent or saying BURNT out-loud. I look left. Look right. Looked over my shoulder. Squinted my eyes to see ahead. Not a soul in sight. I let it out. Ahh, I felt 3 pounds lighter. Then suddenly, I heard somebody say, ‘Mr. Phillips!’ But I didn’t see nobody. I felt something drip on my head. I look up and my damn supervisor coming out the rafters like Sting! I told him to stay up there. He was like, ‘what? why?’ I said just do it. He got suspicious and thought I was stealing boxes. He told me I don’t tell him what to do. That he’s my leader, blah, blah, blah. He didn’t land on his feet. Nah, the rope didn’t break. It was one of those silent and deadly ones, alright. I couldn’t smell it. It’s mine. I’m immune to it.

Terius Phillips ran to a nearby phone and contacted security. The supervisor, Marlon Gray, fainted for holding his nose too long. He was hospitalized for 3 hours. When Gray returned the next day, he led the meeting for the A team. No numbers were discussed. No parking. No housekeeping. Just exercise. Gray told the morning shift-that started working 27 minutes late because Gray had to constantly stop his speech due to their uncontrollable laughter-that if the bathroom is far from their station and people are even further, it’s acceptable to fart in solitude, however, if a co-worker approaches after the release you must warn them by doing jumping jacks because warning people verbally will just bring out their perversity.

The company chose jumping jacks as the perfect “air refresher exercise” because of the fanning motion of the arms and legs.

UPDATE: Three employees were suspended 2 days for abusing the system. “Every time I approached one of them with a stack of labels they started doing jumping jacks,” said team lead, Curtis Hayward. “This affected our production numbers tremendously for the first 2 hours of our shift, so, I got clever and put on an Ebola mask. You should’ve seen their faces when I pulled it out. Priceless.” But a familiar can of spray they left behind is what extended their 15 minute break to 48 hours. In the drawers at their respective stations, the employees had a can of Air MESSenger, which is artificial flatulence.

Built on top of:

  • Recent events of 3 jobs I worked at. 

Have you ever farted in solitude and somebody came out of nowhere and walked into it?

 

 

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