Tres Trabajadores No Especializados

Before the Fall...

Waiting for the knots on the Nikes of the world to fully untie, the best and the brightest looked down at their feet and suddenly saw the laces were all the same, the knots were all invariant, and it was just a matter of time.
When they looked up, they felt like the dinosaurs at Chicxulub watching a massive meteor approaching the Yucatan, glowing like a Santa and His Jolly Reindeer in a Christmas pageant. The times were now pregnant with promises of things to come.

Hank, Montag, and Oscar often met for lunch at Hanaan's Diner, and tried to figure a way out. They always started "Estamos aqui...", but as they ate, no map presented itself to them, and digestion took precedence over thinking. Digestion even of Hanaan's food was not as painful as thinking.

One day, they decided there were still a lot of jobs to be done by handymen, so they put their tools together in Oscar's van, and repaired their ladders with a MIG welder, and hoisted them on the top of the van, securing them with a halloween assortment of bungees.

They drove to their first job at the America Home.
America Home needed a lot of work. A fair sized bit of space garbage had destroyed a section of the clubhouse, falling from the sky on a sunny day when no one was in the clubhouse. Knowing that lightning never strikes twice, there was a buzz of activity when what was left of the insurance carrier was forced to pay for repairs, and a second fragment of satellite hit again at ground-zero, killing all the repair men and the old ladies who were taking measurements for reupholstering.

Hank and Oscar were going to do roofing repair on some structures near the clubhouse crater, while Montag suffered from acrophobia, and would be a scrivener and factotum for any of the inhabitants still comatose from post-traumatic syndrome....

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