"Torb if you would just pick up the instructions!" You yelled over at the small Swedish man that was struggling to put together a chest of drawers.

"How can I put the B screw into the C hole if they don't give me any B screws!" He threw his hammer onto the floor beside the pile of screws, planks of wood and wrenches.

"You mean these?" You held up a small, clear plastic bag with clear markings on it, 'SCREW: B'. The small man waddled over and snatched the bag from out of your hands.

"You took that and hid it whilst I wasn't looking!" He rammed it into his pocket along with some other miscellaneous items.

"You design weaponry for a living and you can practically pull a turret out of thin air. How can you not follow a sheet of paper?".

"They don't tell you how to put it together properly! The pieces don't fit together!" He stared at the instructions that he had propped up against a chair, turning his head from side to side trying to make out the markings and pictures.

"Torb, I have seen small children put together flatpack furniture. If you can't do it, ill call Brigette over and she can do it for me." His head snapped over to you, a fury in his eyes.

"No... I can do it. There is no way this will go into here." He said, trying to ram two pieces of wood together hoping that some great force in the universe would cause it to meld together and form a functioning piece of furniture.

"Are you sure you are following these properly?" You tried to peer over Torbjorn to see where he was going wrong, when it hit you.

"Uumm... Torb... Can you pass me the instructions booklet for just a quick second?"

"No... I almost have it, and besides, I am an engineer remember, I can figure this out." He responded, being nowhere near 'having It'.

"Are you sure about that? Just pass me the instructions, im about to make this a whole lot easier for you."

"Fine." He grumbled. "You want the instructions? Have the instructions." He handed you the paper, which you proceeded to rotate 180 degrees and pass back to him. His jaw shot open and his nostrils flared as he looked at the paper.

"Well... This is clearly all your fault!" He defended himself.

~*~

Written by Aaron.