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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:00:55 GMT -5
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:02:48 GMT -5
“I’ve had it with your lies and deception, your fake apologies and your false promises, your stalling tactics and your countless delays. THAT’S IT! I’m done ‘discussing’ things with you, McNeal! It’s over!” Mirela abruptly stood up from her chair at the meeting table and stormed out of the room. The loud noise of the wooden chair screeching against the floor echoed in the hall as the discussion ended.
“This isn’t good.” Charlie, a Pinkerton agent sitting next to McNeal, whispered.
Mirela marched back to the room where what was left of the Burg Union sat waiting for her. She told them how McNeal continued to pull the same tricks he’s been pulling for two months. The lies, the fake apologies, the stalling tactics. The entire union had had enough with his shenanigans.
It was clear that McNeal never intended to discuss things honorably, never aimed to come to a harmonious compromise. McNeal wanted all the chips on the table and he was going to do anything to get them.
“I’m done with this crap!” Kirsten shouted, sick to the stomach at the thought of how they had been deceived for months and months. “No more playing nice. No more being the better man. The time for discussion is done. It’s time to act.”
“It’s time to go on strike.”
When Kirsten announced that she wanted the union to go on strike, the silence in the room was striking. Going on strike, shutting down the factory, and demanding reparations was a bold move. It could mean the loss of their jobs.
It was open rebellion.
VULNERABLE:  |
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:07:03 GMT -5
Despite the small numbers of the remaining union members, there were still plenty of differing opinions in the group. Just like it had been since they started meeting as a group, everyone seemed to disagree on the best course of action. Over the next two hours the members argued over whether to strike or not, whether to give McNeal an ultimatum, or a impose a definitive deadline. Discussion was heated as everyone had different viewpoints. With all the consternation it seemed that the union might be defeated not by McNeal, but by themselves.
Finally the group agreed to think about it overnight and to meet again in the morning to make a final decision. Pete grabbed his coat, lunch box, and keys from his locker and started home.
He was surprised to find his wife Patricia sitting at the table with someone he hadn’t met before.
*Two hours earlier…*
Pete’s wife Patricia had been watering the plants when she heard the doorbell ring. She went to answer the door and found a small young woman selling milk door-to-door.
“Could I interest you in some milk?” Asked the innocent young woman, smiling hopefully.
Patricia felt bad for the woman. She looked a little destitute and very eager to sell the milk. Patricia invited her inside for a bite to eat and decided she would buy a glass or two.
VULNERABLE:  |
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:12:20 GMT -5
“Oh thank you so much gentle madam,” the woman said as she took a bite out of the slice of bread. “You are too kind.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Patricia responded. “I must say though, I have not seen you around town, are you from the Burg?”
“Oh no, I’m from a few towns south from here.” The woman said. “I’ve already been to every doorstep nearby so now I have to go further and further away, desperately trying to sell milk just to make ends meet.”
“You know my life wasn’t always like this.” The woman continued telling her story. “Just a few months ago we were living the great life. My husband had a job at the local auto plant. The wages weren’t great, but they were enough to get by. The hours were good, and the people were good. It was a good job.”
“It’s so sad to remember where it all went so wrong,” the woman said, clearly distraught. “I’m not sure why, but for some reason some of the other workers were unhappy… kept complaining about wanting more money for less work. Even though my husband said things were just fine, in fact they got more pay than some other nearby factories… they just kept pushing and pushing for more money. They were just so greedy. They riled up all of the workers and forced them to go on strike… it was so frightening!”
“Oh my gosh,” Patricia gasped, engrossed in the woman’s story.
VULNERABLE: 
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:17:09 GMT -5
“It was such a scary time. The others forced my husband to stop working, and things got really bad really quickly. Tensions escalated, and tempers rose… a huge fight took place between the boss and some of the workers. The boss kept saying she couldn’t afford to pay the workers more for less work, not with the economy the way it was. But the angry, violent workers wouldn’t listen to reason…”
“And finally, after a month of not working and striking, they just fired my husband and all of the workers! With no pay or benefits or anything!”
The woman started sobbing at the despair in her tale.
“I can’t even bear to remember it. Afterwards no one would hire my husband… they kept saying he was a traitor, a betrayer, an untrustworthy man for abandoning his former employer like that. That wasn’t true, my husband is a good man. But who could blame them for thinking that when he was associated with all those trouble making ruffians! It’s their fault he got involved in this terrible strike and their fault he lost his job.”
“And it’s their fault I’m forced to go door-to-door ten hours a day just to keep shoes on our little Jimmy’s feet.” The woman concluded, wiping back a tear. “Oh it’s just so horrible. So horrible. Please promise me you won’t let your story turn out like mine!”
Pete came home from work to find his wife and the woman sitting at the table.
VULNERABLE:
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:22:32 GMT -5
Although Pete and Patricia fought back and forth into the night, McNeal’s secret operative “milkwoman” wasn’t enough to dissuade the workers from going on strike.
The next day, they took out their picket lines, their signs, their bullhorns and officially went on strike.
All day the workers of the Burg Factory marched back and forth in front of the factory, chanting slogans, pumping their fists, holding signs. Filled with energy, enthusiasm, drive, and a sense that finally things were going to be made right, the union kept up the picket line for the rest of the week.
It wasn’t until Friday when McNeal tried to hire scabs –people who work for an employer who’s workers are currently on strike – that tried to cross the picket line.
“Excuse me, just where do you think you are going?” Jason said as he stepped in front of a scab trying to enter the factory.
The scab looked around and sneered at the strikers and tried to push his way past.
“I’m just trying to earn an living, do an honest days work,” he said disdainfully, staring at the strikers implying that they were trying to do none of the same. “Let me by so I can do what I was hired to do.”
Tempers rose as more strikers moved to block the man, finally getting him to turn away.
VULNERABLE: 
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:32:56 GMT -5
As the sun rose in the sky, the group got rowdier and disgruntle-ier, as multiple confrontations took place during the day. The police would stop by every few hours, presumably to see that everything was kept peaceful, but truly they were there to agitate and cause trouble. Occasionally they would take a worker aside for ‘questioning’, or accuse them of violating made-up labor laws, or force workers out of the shade of a large tree because that was ‘private property.’
Many people of the Burg stopped by to see what the commotion was about and all of them had a strong opinion one way or the other. Some of them would yell at the workers without even having a clue what had been going on for the past few months. The workers were constantly harassed as they stood out in the beating hot sun as they had for the entire week.
Things were coming to a rising point when Jenya grabbed a bullhorn, stood upon a hill, and gave a rousing speech. She summed up all the horrors they’d be through since Peabody died, detailed all the abuses they’d suffered at the hands of the Pinkertons, and explained all of the ways they had tried to end this conflict peacefully.
This was the only way.
SAFE:  VULNERABLE: 
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 19:33:26 GMT -5
“We must stand up for our rights!” Jenya boomed at the conclusion of her speech.
“We must fight for the little guy!”
“Because we aint takin it anymore!”
Boom! A shot rang out clear and loud as it hit one worker square in the shoulder. They were taken away by a Pinkerton agent posing as a doctor. Unfortunately for them, they weren’t going to be receiving the kind of 'treatment' they hoped they would…
Mirela has been fired and Imprisoned by the Spies.
You will never see her again. [/b][/center] Mirela : please post Final Words in your confessional immediately. Judge Sam: “It’s sad to say goodbye to another amazing player and part of Spies 6, but I guess everyone’s time has to come eventually, and you did get to play through almost the entire game. I very much enjoyed having you play and I’m so glad you came back and got in touch with me to replace in. =) Having you play again was a real joy! Your confessionals are phenomenal, one of the best of the bunch. You have a real knack for writing as everyone saw in your Creative memory. I think you affected the game more than others realize… and not just in your push on Thor. You played hard and long for the last two months and I, for one, appreciated every day of it. Your participation as the Spring Queen was memorable, your opinions were strong and emotional, and you brought a lot to the game. I’ll talk to you soon!” Judge Sam: “We’re coming up on what could be the final exile of Spies 6. IMPORTANT: Your votes for Exile #13 are due at 7:00 PM CDT Sunday, July 26th, that’s one hour before the live Exile #13 / possible season finale at 8:00 PM CDT Sunday. This is because I need to know if it is actually the season finale and have time to prepare accordingly. Please do not reveal your vote for certain after 7:00 PM CDT. I’m sure that day will be long discussing the vote, and the finale portion of it will be long in itself, so take a much needed break during that hour! Please do not talk to each other during this time. Get off the computer for an hour and relax. =) Recall: votes are due 7:00 PM CDT Sunday, but the live Exile is at 8:00 PM CDT Sunday. I’ll see you then! If the workers took a notion they could stop all speeding trains;
Every ship upon the ocean they can tie with mighty chains.
Every wheel in the creation, every mine and every mill;
Fleets and armies of the nation, will at their command stand still.
-Joe Hill [/size]
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Post by Judge Sam on Jul 24, 2009 20:43:12 GMT -5
(darn it, when I posted this a little over an hour ago I completely left out a segment. It's here if you want to read it.  |
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