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“You know, threatening a printer works, but usually unplugging it tends to work better.”
The voice had Bradley straightening to his full height from where he’d been hunched over, turning to see a smirking technician, wielding a large plastic toolbox with ease in his strong hands. The man caught his eye, gesturing to the mess in front of them. “At least, in my experience. This thing jam on you?” The tone was affable and calm, setting Bradley’s teeth instantly on edge. Obviously it was jammed. What moron couldn’t see that?
“Your print-out is on fire.”

