The smoke is lit; the sweater-vest is pink.
The dump truck flexes upwards at a 45-degree angle; the sweater-vest chips away at the driveway with an over-sized pickaxe.
The bobcat scoops from the dumptruck; the cigarette falls from the sweater-vest - "Noooooo!"
The back-door of the dumptruck swings open violently, the entirety of its gravel-load crashing down on the bobcat; the sweater-vest nearly collapses in anguish.
The emergency shovels are summoned; the cigarette is extinguished but not the bobcat, as years and years of digging-technique-advancements prevail.
The bobcat and the dumptruck laugh together in the ether of the aftermath; the sweater-vest needs to sit on the curb for a while.
The smoke is lit; the sweater-vest is sweaty.
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