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Enzyme says: Tell us your tales of grot, grime, dirt, detritus and mess

(, Thu 2 Feb 2012, 13:04)
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Student summer job from Hell
As with most impoverished students, I had to work through the summer in a variety of shitty jobs in order to fund my alcohol and pizza Uni related antics. The worst job I has was when I was a contract cleaner. It had some highs (working for Williams F1 and getting to watch them build full-size replica cars was wicked) but it also had many, many lows...

I was sent to work for one day at what can only be described as a chicken concentration camp. Upon arrival, they made me strip, and then dressed me in an all-enclosed white paper suit so that I looked like a cross between a bleached Teletubby and a giant baby (who's bollocks you could see through the suit) They then walked me around the factory for all the people on the lines to take the piss. After this ritual humiliation, they put me in a room that could only have been designed to extract confessions from poultry, told me to clean it and then they left me.

Fuck me, I am gipping just thinking about this. It was the height of summer and the smell was horrendous, and the carnage that I saw inside this 'Hell Room' sent my imagination into overdrive. I found one machine that was the chicken equivalent of a rack. Another was of a 'spinny' design that I can only assume made the chickens dizzy. Fuck knows why they needed this machinery, or dizzy chickens for that matter, but I figured I just needed to get the place clean, and then I could bugger off home and never think about it again.

I grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the feathers hidden under the units, and I felt something come into contact with the bristles but it wouldn't shift. I got onto my knees, to see what it was but it was too dark under there. So I got a dustpan and brush, and reached back under using the brush to get better leverage, I pulled hard... And a complete, rotting chicken's head flew out from under the unit and smashed wetly into my face! The bastard thing had an agonised, tortured expression upon its once benign feathered features, and one eye was missing. I screamed like a girl. And then shat my paper onesy.
(, Thu 2 Feb 2012, 16:10, 3 replies)
You get a click
for the mere idea of a machine designed to make chickens dizzy.
(, Thu 2 Feb 2012, 16:13, closed)
and for shitting your paper onsey

(, Thu 2 Feb 2012, 16:37, closed)
I used to live near a chicken processing place
It was only a small backstreet place.

They used to get crates of chickens to kill and pluck etc. To kill them, they had something that looked like a spinny thing with what appeared to be 6 funnels attached. They would take the chickens out of the crates, dump them upside down in these funnels, and they would die within a couple of minutes. No rotation apart from to make the job easier for the chicken killer guy.
(, Sat 4 Feb 2012, 17:24, closed)

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