Attack of the 50 foot project

Work. Work. Work.

Still at work after a very long day working on a project that, like some undead B movie monster, refuses to die. Little bits of it break off, become unnaturally animated, and then crawl around on their own, terrorizing the peasants.

I can't figure out if I'm in the role of the unlikely heroine who saves the day despite overwhelming odds, or if I'm one of the peasants.

To change anaolgies, one of the orc peons from the original Warcraft seems more likely.

Zug zug.

Ok, break's over.