Ron

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He was old, not dinosaur old, but old enough that people under thirty tended not to take notice of him when he walked by. Ron could typically be seen wearing heavy work boots, heavy work pants, and a grim facial expression. He tended to have a bleak outlook for the younger generation, and would often throw himself into his work to avoid dealing with their stupidity.  Ron also liked to think he was tough. He owned the loudest Harley Davidson motorcycles on his block back home and he had a hardened face from many years of working in the sun, and a seemingly permanent farmers tan. Ron had been the light weight champion wrestler in his high school years and had made plans to follow a career in that direction, but events had transpired to make it nearly impossible. So now Ron had found himself a maintenance man at one of the most prestigious parks in the world: Jurassic World.

It had lost its grandeur about the second year. Ron had seen enough kids throw hissey fits, and parents get impatient when rides needed to be fixed to make him grow an extra layer to his outer shell. He didn't really give a damn what others thought, and went about his life trash talking guests behind their backs, and when a coworker messed up, they would find themselves added to the list.

Ron also had another quirk that made people a little skeptical, he did not trust public transportation. He didn't even trust the company boat that would carry the employees back and fourth to the island day after day. He had gotten around this by buying his own boat. People thought he was crazy when he first bought it, but they would often call him to go get something they needed from the mainland and he would go get it for them, for a price.

The day of the accident, Ron had gotten a notification on his phone that some of the key components to the GPS shocker system that was installed in every dinosaur had a problem. He had rolled out of bed, grumbling about stupid machines and how they were as needy as a two-year-old and what they should do to themselves with a stick.

His walkie-talkie crackled to life as that annoying kid, Lowery he believed, from the control room called to inform Ron about the tech failure.

"Uh, Mr. Ron? Sir?" Ron smiled to himself as he heard the nervous twinge in the boy's voice. Fear made it easier get things done, fewer questions asked.

"Yeah." Ron grunted as he poured himself some coffee. "If this is about the failure in the control room, you can bet your pretty little gadgets I have it under control."

"Okay sir. Are you there now?" Ron grunted as he sipped his coffee and then cursed under his breath when he burned his tongue on the hot liquid.

"No, but I will be as soon as I stop getting asked stupid questions." He waited a moment for a reply, and was satisfied when the young man on the other end didn't say anything. Good, Ron thought, maybe the kid was finally learning.

Ron found some semi-clean work pants and a grease free shirt and threw them on, grabbing a pop-tart package from his stash above the sink on his way out the door. The sun hit him square in the face, causing Ron to squint and glare at a neighboring palm tree that denied him shade this early in the morning. He climbed into his work truck and was soon on his way to the engineering room to fix the problem that had woken him this early so that he could get some proper breakfast.

After backing the truck up to the rear of the Control Room, Ron strapped on his tool belt and began to peel back the aluminum wrapper off of his strawberry pop-tart. He fished his access key-card from his pocket and let himself into the building. There weren't many people there that morning, so he had no problem making his way across the large room filled with computers and screens toward the special access only door that held a corridor of electrical wires, wifi modems, emergency motors, and all sorts of stuff that was needed to keep the park running. From there he avoided the people who were already at work by taking another side door into a hallway that lead to the equipment he was after.

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