The Scrapper

The garbage heap scrapper is tossing a rather large load of documents into the mechanical rippers' blade-teeth. His goggles glisten, reflecting the flames below his perch. Shipments of new documents are ceaseless, brought in by garbage trucks painted to look like menacing Chinese dragons from alien hollow earth. The countless stacks of document destined for destruction would blow away in the cruel winds if it weren't for the air above being heavy with the stagnancy of smoke, ash and soot. He smiles as his machines - destroyers of the word and worlds, churn in a violent industrial opus to his delight. Cleaning out the offices of the old Zaibatsus will be a big contract for the Dharma-Cleaning Crews and the other sub-department contractors.

Two stubborn little seedlings catch his eye. They're trying to sprout up from these garbage heaps he tends. He seethes in anger. Atleast one will be stricken down to make way for his dreams of flesh in rot.