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The original was posted on /r/maliciouscompliance by /u/cynical-mage on 2025-07-11 15:06:40+00:00.
Going back through the mists of time to the days of working with my father in law as a builder's labourer for this little story.
To start this, my fil/boss had a habit of going to B&Q for [insert random non critical item], when in actual fact it was a handy excuse to go to a cafe for a sausage and bacon sarnie while the rest of us got on with the work.
He had one golden rule; all other tools were whatever, but his precious DeWalt drill was his baby. Never, ever, ever touch the DeWalt!
This fine morning, he decided to toddle off, leaving me, the plumber, and the plasterer to our various jobs. My task was to sort out the arcatrave and hang a door. After getting the hang of builders banter while being a gasp girl (give as good as you get, and you're sorted lmao), I thought I'd sort out the cheeky bugger. You see...don't touch the DeWalt. The only drill in the building. Fine, suits me.
Fil waltzes in, suspicious stains on his shirt, and what looked to be ketchup on the corner of his mouth.
'Why the hell isn't the door done?!'
'Well, I did what I could, but you said I wasn't to use the DeWalt'
He spluttered a fair bit, the plasterer fell off the steps from pissing himself laughing, plumber quietly giggled, and I stood there pulling the most angelic face I could manage. And then I was finally given permission to use the damn drill.