MARVELOUS

All the mills are shut down. The smokestacks say nothing. The riverside is silent. The strong, callous-knuckled men who used to pour slag (or whatever it is they did in those buildings) are now breaking your $20 at the grocery store, trying to feed their family on the same hourly wage that keeps their 17-year-old co-worker in Camels and condoms. They go home every night and eyeball the weaponry mounted on the rec room's wood paneling.
"That took out a running buck," they think to themselves. "Surely it could get me a good night's rest."
So they load it, pack it, and walk back to work. Do they murder their bosses? Do they take out their customers? Or do they squeeze the trigger and swallow that lead pill themselves? It doesn't matter. It will happen again. And again. Until they all fall. The panic's amazing. The bloodshed's disarming.
Life 'round here is just plain marvelous.