The Life and Times of the Cowboy Coppersmith PART III.

I kind of kill a guy. Bruce dies at the end.

Bruce ( not real name ) Mid evil cackle. RIP dear Bruce.

The Toronto Winter has kind of ended and it’s now a world of freezing slush and mud.

I go off to work with Bruce the Deevo and Jim the Retired stripper (Jim has gone fully evil and embraced the dark side from hanging out with Bruce too much).

How demented is the scene now?

Bruce keeps hounding Jim to print out bestiality pornography for him from his computer and bring it to him at work.

It’s that demented.

They put me over the other side of the worksite so they can talk about how much of a bastard the boss is and steal diesel from the Truckers worksite tank, without me saying things like ”I personally feel that stealing is a bad thing and I don’t think you should be doing it”.

They have stolen Diesel twice now. After the first time, I told the owner to lock his tank but he didn’t. I told Bruce not to do it the first time and the second time he did it he waited till I was down the other end of the site, but I spied and saw him ripping the diesel again.
I took photos with my 400$ digital camera that you hook to your computer and upload the photos from because it is 2004.

ABOVE. A spy photo of them wasting an hour of work time getting the truck pulled out of the mud.

They hate the boss too cause he is “ripping them off” (by providing them with good work) so they “have to get their money back somehow” so they “fix” the hours by altering them by up to one or one and a half hours per day, in the workbook.

Bruce puts our hours in at the end of the day and they are not the real hours we work. I sneak back in and change MY hours back to what they are supposed to be and my receipt at the end of the week will reflect this.

Soon the discrepancy will noticed due to the fact that my receipt will be different than theirs although I’m working at the same place.

I will hopefully get called into the boss’s office for one of our “special meetings”. Where I give all the details of my undercover operation.

I don’t want to say anything right now as I have to work with them 10-12 hours a day. They see this stuff as nothing, Bruce being a criminal and all, I don’t like the picture of what would happen if they found out that I was ratting them out.

I’m tough and carry knives and hammers… so it won't be nice for anyone if it gets ugly.

They both have kids and wives they are supporting so I will feel pretty bad if they get fired. But not too bad due to my Buddhist outlook that it’s all Karma.

Especially the Karma that I caused you by exposing your crimes.
I have mentioned at length my dissatisfaction with their crooked ways yet they either ignore me and laugh it off or do this stuff behind my back…

So I have started to document the stealing and keeping the proper hours in an effort to distance myself from their criminal acts.

If you have read my other stories then you would know my crooked past… but I was reborn. And fully on the path of the Righteous Man.

Beset on all sides by the tyrannies and wickedness of evil men of course….

Once on the way back from our job site they went into another guy’s worksite to look for tools and such to steal. They didn’t find any but they stole a hockey net that was left out, and then didn’t stop for the Indian Sheik security guard as he took the license plate down. Almost running him down as they drove - fled out of there. I cowered down in the back seat of the truck.

I am thinking that on Tuesday I will have a little meeting with the boss.

The fact that they call me “toes” (cause I’m so far up the boss’s ass that’s all you can see of me! ) does nothing to help their sorry plight.

Tuesday is the day I get to take off to London, Ontario to work on a big church spire with good sane guys so I can freely disclose my spying operation without fear of retribution from these guys. The boss is a really good guy who has worked hard to build this company and takes care of the good dudes (like me with my free shed, heat, hot water, Internet, good pay, deal) so it is even worse that they are ripping the company off.

UPDATE!! THE BALLOON HAS GONE UP.

It happened. On Friday… I was called into the boss’s office to explain the discrepancy in our hour sheets and I fully ratted them out.

I went FULL RATFINK.

The stealing, the strippers, the drinking and drugs at work, the mucking about … getting the truck stuck in the mud for an hour a day despite the boss telling them to park up by the road and walk to the site.

I told on them for making me do all the work and I backed it up with my documents with the time and place of each crime and the photos.

I went full detective undercover coppersmith debrief.

I’m a talker… and I was amazing.

The boss was blown away and very grateful. Also very angry!

He confessed to me that he knew Bruce was evil and was pissed off that he had trusted him.

You see a few years back Bruce had been caught breaking into the office and stealing money as well as a checkbook which he used to write himself checks.

“He’s an old B&E man from way back…” the boss said….

He was arrested and then jailed back then.

Then in a fit of ex-alcoholic brain rot dementia, the boss got him out of jail and had him work for him again - so he could earn money to pay back what he stole.

Great Idea! Not.

So now here we were.

I asked him to put off firing them until the night before I left for the new job in London Ontario. I would take the light bulbs out of the shed, and stack up paint tins by the door… sleep in a different location, and arm myself with two hammers in case they came calling in the night for revenge.

He did so. He told me about how good it felt to can those useless pricks.

I was a powerful force of good in the world.

No one came to kill me in the night, though I was ready.

The next day Bruce was found dead by the boss’s wife. In the doorway to the office.

Frozen and stiff as a breadstick with a screwdriver in his hand. Lock half mangled.

The police told us what they thought went down.

At around 3 a.m. at the coldest part of the night, and after a ton of hard post fired from the job drinking, Bruce decided to rob the place.

In a freak snap, it had dropped to -10c. He got colder and colder and more stressed as he jiggled the lock. His unhealthy lifestyle, the booze, and the cold brought on a stroke.

He fell down and froze to death.

I went numb and blocked out the fact that my actions caused his death.

But If I didn’t tell on him then maybe he would be alive…?

But If he didn’t do crimes and harrass me I wouldn’t have told on him…?

But but but… back to GOD.

GOD KILLED BRUCE. BRUCE KILLED BRUCE. I KILLED BRUCE.

It was a team effort.

And now the story is told.

I have born this sad tale too long alone. You share it with me now.

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