Mike Graf was one seriously pissed off warehouse supervisor with newly served divorce papers, a mounting debt, and very little patience for the annoying rat-like creature known as a “shipping coordinator” who was currently yipping at his heels.

“You must be very careful with these crates,” the rodent sniveled while adjusting his goggles. “They are…extremely…sensitive. Under no circumstances should the red and blue crates be stored together.”

Mike grabbed the day’s stylus-board from his assistant without so much as a glance at the shipping coordinator.

Shit, he thought to himself. Command wants me to take on replacement parts for the fourth fleet in addition to the regular shipment? Where the hell would those crates go?

“Mr. Grap, I don’t think you understa-”

“My name is Mr. Graf, you miserable little man. And I heard you the first time. Put the red and blue crates together. Now get out of my warehouse!” Mike roared as the tiny man recoiled from his raw anger.

“Ok boys, let’s get stacking!”