(This happened to one Jeffrey Barnum in 2014. Here is his story. )

[Now that that's over with, go ahead and read :)]

The sign read simply "Caution: keep your hands away from the track."

The donuts, hot, fresh, and surprisingly appealing, were slowly led through the process just like every other Krispy Kreme donut. To the oil, out to the glaze, and then onward to a cooling tunnel.

The oil, though hot, had a surprisingly still surface, only rippling and shimmering when a new row of dough was dropped. When the donuts were flipped, the oil was disturbed once more. Every time it rippled, it seemed as if it would spill over the edge. But it never did.

Once cooked through, the donuts continued at the same pace, inching towards the glaze. The curtain of sugar seemed almost to fold as it covered the simple treats.

Occasionally, an employee took one off the line before it became covered in saccharine, using a small white rod to lift the donut from inside the hole. They were too hot to pick up with just gloves, at this point.

The donuts continued onward to a cooling tunnel, after which they were put onto trays, a dozen at a time.

The employee who was "catching" these donuts was new. He had only been working there for about a week, and today was his first day doing this.

No one had told him it would be so....

Boring.

Grab a tray, grab 2 donuts at a time. 2. 4. 6. 8. 10. 12. Put the donuts on the rack.

He decided to put in some earbuds. After all, he didn't need to hear anyone to do his job.

Grab a tray, grab 2 donuts... 2. 4. 6. 8. 10. 12. Put the donuts on the rack.

The other employee in the front of the store told him that she was going to go on her break. If he needed help he should grab the manager. He's probably in the back. It's been really slow today, so you probably don't need to worry.

She left the store to go get lunch.

2. 4. 6. 8. 10--

The machine stopped. Unbeknownst to him, a metal bolt had fallen, and gotten stuck underneath the track.

Confused, he took off an earbud. Looking around, he found that everyone had left.

No big deal. Got stuck or something.

He walks around to the other side of the machine as it creaked and groaned.

There were donuts that had stopped in the oil. The track had stopped moving, though the first part of the machine continued to drop donuts into the oil. Dough was starting to pile up.

Confused, he bends down to look underneath the track near the oil. He remembers his manager looking down here earlier.

He grabs the underside of the track.

The part that, when moving, leads to the underside of the 365 degree oil vat.

His grip dislodges the fallen bolt.

The machine begins to move once more.

Before he realizes what's happening, his hand is being dragged across the bottom of the machine.

He screams as his glove is burnt, the cheap plastic sticking to his skin.

He screams as his fingers are dislocated by the unyielding metal.

He screams as the usually calm vat of oil becomes too full with dough, and oil spills across his face, spitting and hissing as it burns.

He survived. But his burns were severe. His hand was... Mangled.

His manager returned from cleaning the bathrooms, and was able to stop the machine with a push of a button, and stop the oil from spilling using a release valve.

But it took time to extricate him from the machine. I'll leave the details to your imagination.

This is your reminder that large machinery is inherently dangerous, and steel will not yield to flesh.

I had been living in my small town for almost two years and I had grown used to the odd safety codes and regulations that the town imposed. Everyone had to wear a helmet at all times and we were only allowed to walk between certain designated hours.

But this new rule was the strangest one yet. We had to wear a special type of helmet that was equipped with a tracking device. It was meant to help the town track our movements so they could better enforce their safety codes.

At first, I thought it was a little strange, but I followed the rule without question. I was used to the weird safety codes that my town imposed.

But then one day, I started to notice something strange. Whenever I would walk past certain areas, my helmet would start to beep. I realized that the tracking device was identifying certain places as "dangerous" and it was trying to keep me away from them.

I was intrigued, so I decided to explore these areas. I soon discovered that my town had been hiding a dark secret. It turns out that they had been using the tracking device to identify people who were suspected of being involved in illegal activities.

The town had been using the tracking device to target these people and had been arresting them without any due process. I was horrified and angry. How could my town do this?

I decided to report what I had discovered to the authorities, but before I could, I was arrested.

Never smile at a crocodile.

No, no I’m serious. Stop grinning at me like that, I am being perfectly serious. Look, it’s written right down there in the book, see?

Yeah. Yeah, that’s right, I’m not joking around. It’s a rule, an actual rule. You never, ever smile at a crocodile while you’re working here.

Oh sure, it seems harmless enough, once you start smiling at that crocodile, we’ll, you might be tempted to stop and chat a while. Soon, you’ll be taken in by his welcome grin.

And, before you know it, you’ll find out how well you fit within his skin.

So I’m telling you, newbie, never smile at a crocodile.

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See Reality Fiction and Simple Prompts for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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