That's all I'm thinking as I'm standing there at the hopper, pouring the fourth batch of the day, when she comes up behind me and says there's a problem with the machine down in Text. That's what we call the part of the factory where they have the stampers that put all the messages on the little hearts. Shit like: Kiss Me. Be Mine. They're updating them for the millennium now, Sid announced it this season. We've added Hot Stuf and Cool to the "conversation hearts" shtick.

Now, how is it my business what happens down in Text? I show up and pour syrup. That's my job. That's what I do. But she's standing there in this pink skirt barely covering her ass and a white blouse tied up at her waist, and I can see this girl's got a navel ring, for God's sake, how is anyone supposed to get candy made around here?

So, before I know it, I'm off like some cotton-candy covered knight in a white apron to see if I can fix her problem.

The problem is clear as soon as I get down there. No one's on the floor in Text!

Two people stand on the line and are supposed to go through the candy hearts as they come out the end. Quality control they call 'em. Well, I don't know about that, considering so damned many are stamped cockeyed or with the words half cut off, but I guess it makes sense, in the scheme of things, now that I know what "quality control"

was doing.

As we're standing there, the machine is going bonkers, spewing out candy hearts with no messages or bizarre letter combinations: MsC Me and KsOl LF. The hearts are shooting out of the machine and bouncing off the belt into the floor. One of them hits poor Maureen in the face. Lucky thing she was wearing her little rimless glasses!

So I'm off to figure this one out. Something is clearly jammed somewhere. I pop the emergency "off" switch. That's for when someone gets their hand caught in the machine or something. It alerts the boss in his office, so I'm expecting him to waddle in at any moment as I'm looking over the machine.