Running With Scissors

A.S.W

715 East Street was built by a rather quirky individual by the name of Anastasius Finch.

He was a squat man of Greek descent that by all accounts constantly smelled like garlic and overripe yogurt. He was also quite ugly, with rumors saying he looked on the front the same way he looked on the back. We say rumors, as he never let himself be photographed. He often said that cameras were a product of Hades himself, created as a ploy to steal his soul. Most people would argue he didn't have a soul to begin with.

As you may have deduced, Anastasius was a very superstitious man. He didn't keep mirrors in his house for fear he may break one and be condemned to seven years of bad luck—which might have been the cause of his general disheveledness—nor did he own an umbrella, lest he accidentally opened it indoors.

He did step on random cracks on the street whenever he could. Not because he didn't believe his mother's back wouldn't break, but because he hoped it would. They didn't get along. His animosity towards her started, he often said, the day he was born.

Above all else, Anastasius was good at one thing: building stuff. In fact, he was so adept with a hammer that he believed himself to be the reincarnation of the Greek god of Craftsmanship, Hephaestus. He was also very cheap, as gods tend to be. Always asking for donations and handouts, as if they weren't rich enough.

He wanted to build a Greek temple to commemorate his image, but New York zoning laws were a bit tough on building pantheons to dead religions in the middle of downtown Manhattan instead of, say, an affordable housing complex. So he did that instead.

Under the guise of creating an apartment building, he created what could best be described as a freshman architect's wet dream. Luscious Corinthian columns adorned a porch that hid a pure marble statue of Hephaestus. The building was lined with white plaster, made to appear faded by time. The lobby's floor shone and squeaked thanks to the pure Italian granite it was made of.

You must be asking yourself, how could he afford all that if he was so cheap? He had to cut corners. Literally.

Production costs in Manhattan are rather high, so he skimmed in everything non-essential: heating, windows, electricity, a foundation, corners, ceilings, Wi-Fi, doors, stairs, plumbing, and so on. Aside from the beautiful columns, and the detailed statue, and the squeaking floors, everything else was a house of cards waiting to collapse.

Of course, he also skimmed on the workforce, hiring the cheapest contractors he could find on Craigslist and putting them to work day and night, with only rainwater and mildew as refreshments.

One day, a worker had enough. As he labored under the scorching heat, he thought to himself "This must be worse than death," so he decided to test that theory.

Witness testimony said he made a 360 front flip when jumping from the top floor—which was technically the first floor, since there were no ceilings.

Witness testimony also gave the man a score of 6.7, 6, and 6.5, for a total score of 19.2, citing that his approach was superb, but his landing lacked panache, as instead of, say, entering a pool, he landed right on top of the Hephaestus statue, ripping his head right off. The statue's, not his. Although his head was also ripped off in the process. The man's, not the statue's.

Of course, being the cheap bastard that he was, Anastasius sued the family of the worker for damages against his property. The other workers, standing in solidarity with his comrade, unionized, arguing that an employee has the right to commit suicide as a form of resignation and that employers must guarantee the right to a fair death.

In a landmark case before the United States Supreme Court, Association of Suicidal Workers v Finch, et al, the court ruled in favor of the Association, citing that once people committed to a flight path after jumping to their death, they cannot be responsible for any collateral damage caused as long as it happened during work hours, and provided the employee in question had previously delivered a two-weeks' notice.