In my last blog I briefly mentioned the story about the Italian man (who, as it turns out, is actually Canadian) who was killed after being dragged head-first in a pasta-making machine. I promised to go a little further into it, so here goes.
(N.B. Some of you may be concerned that the tragedy inherent in this story will be diminished by my usual jokey, not-taking-anything-too-seriously outlook. I would like to say in response that my heart goes out to the man's family and friends, and that I shall do my best to keep within the boundaries of good taste. I just hope I canneloni.)
The man, whose first name was apparently Justin, died from injuries received after his shirt got caught in the machine. It's hard to believe that such a gruesome and tragic accident could come from sacchetini mistake, but you know what they say: life's a bitch, and then you ditalini.
But the plot goes thicker. Reports indicate that the incident is being treated as a suicide, after it came to light that the man's wife had recently left with their two children and gotten pretty much everything in the divorce. Poor Justin died lonely, broken-hearted, and with barely a penne to his name.
Also of note is the fact that the deceased had recently been turned down for promotion. He had repeatedly been recognised as the factory's most productive employee and this fact seemed to ensure his progress up the career ladder.
And yet the promotion went to another candidate. It was a woman, and murmurings on the factory floor would seem to indicate that she only got the position because the board had been told by the equality folks to hire at least one.
As you can imagine, when Justin learned that he had been turned down, he damn near blew a fusili. The following day he brought a claw hammer to work and went to town on the woman's car. Onlookers wryly observed when he was finished that her shiny new Porsche was "al dente".
But I digress. The suicide ruling will come as a relief to factory bosses, who were until recently worried that this man's death would lead to questions about their health and safety protocol. Alarmingly, Justin is not the first employee to get sucked into the pasta-maker, and while Justin was the first victim unlucky enough not to escape with his life, it has been suggested that as many as 20 of the factory's emplyees have received injuries at work. And that's a pretty frightening tagliatelle.
In spite of this, family members have decided not to press the issue with the factory (very restrained, I thought; I'd have given them a pizza my mind), and instead to celebrate Justin's life. "Nothing will change the fact that he's dead," said his brother. "We're just glad that he's gone to a better place. I'm sure he's gnocchi on Heaven's door as we speak."
For the factory's remaining employees, though, moods remain tortellini. Everyone feels unsafe; they are all scared that, any day now, they could fall victim to an accident just like Justin's, all because their employer's health code is sub-par...
...mesan. Unions have threatened to strike; one anonymous spokesperson claimed that "this is the scariest thing to happen to food workers since the fatal malfunction that claimed five lives at a German sausage factory in 2002, and that was one of the wurst food-related disasters of all time."
Maybe I've gone a bit far(falle) now. To sum up, then; Justin's death is a tragedy beyond compare, and I cannot imagine how hard it is for his loved ones to come to terms with his untimely demise.
But hey, rather him than Dolmio.
Joel.
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