Random paragraph #14

Joe'd been at the underwear factory going on 13 years now... he'd worked hard... he'd put in his time...and gradually, he'd been promoted...  now, he was inspector #17... not the most prestigious number in the world, but hey, it could have been worse... at least he wasn't #2... that honor i'm afraid to say, was reserved for poor, sweet Marjorie... I'll tell ya, she was the butt of many a joke around the factory (no pun intended)... No, #17 wasn't that bad at all... it was respectable even... But what Joe couldn't stand... what Joe hated more than anything else in the world was inspector #1... Hank Peterson... with his big toothy smile, his gangly arms, and his fancy salon haircut... Hank, you see, was the son of the owner,  and had not come into HIS position honestly... But even more so, Hank was not what you'd call a modest man... and everyday around 10, Hank would start... He'd parade around with a pair of RX440's on his head, laughing and pointing... shouting "I'm number 1, I'm number 1..." Well yes Hank, today you may indeed be #1... but things change my friend...  things change...