Yeah, watching your life’s work burn away tends to have an effect on you.
“TIM!” I roared, as the fire engulfed even more of my product.
“Boss!” he yelled, as he through gasoline on yet more of my product. He grinned at me as the flames grew higher in the night sky.
“What are you doing you idiot!” I screamed at him, knocking the gasoline canister out of his hands. Grabbing him by his shirt I slammed him against the wall of the farmhouse, letting my rage seamlessly transfer into force as he yelled in pain.
“But boss,” he cried, pleading eyes glinting with the reflection of the fire he’d just started, “You asked me to do this!”
That’s it, I’d had it. I hooked him one to the head and watched him crash to the ground, wimpering quietly.
“I said ‘Learn it’,” as I threw the manual I’d left on top of the hay barrel at his stupid head, “Not burn it!”
I swore to myself over and over as the flames gobbled my precious marijuana harvest up and reduced it to ash and cinder.
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I was inspired (in part) to write this story from this writing prompt.