"Hiya Bosses; my name is Jack Massarone, hope you've been pleased wit my crews work so far yeah?
Ya can call me Jack as I've never seen myself as more than a roustabout with some lucky timing and a sense of what needs doin.
Ay Boss, you ever had to deal with one of those sumbitches 'fore? Not the punching; but the stankass that starts melting away like icecream at Coney in mid-July?
We were in Sydney on a job when they dropped one on the beach before it could breech into the city proper.
There was some jurisdictional snafu over salvage licensing that held up cleanup about four hours, if'n you don't start pumpin CO2 in to alter the Ph of the blue right away the shit cascades and starts the organs and muscles to breaking down... Ammonia, Blue, & Bloodmist? Forgetaboutit! Eight hours later nobody wants the job; you can't recoup your O2 or CO2 or labor costs.
Point is boss the good shit rots first and late to the party salvagers might as well stay home.
I know a guy... a guy with the tools, personal protective equipment, and knowledge to carve it like a friggin brisket. He keeps 20% for hisself and his crew; he pays out before he walks away on your 80%. I can reach out to him he won't be available for this kill, it'd be scrap before he could get here.
Me and my crew don't know a kaiju liver from a canoli, but we have some rubber suits and SCBA and can cut him down and make it easier to dispose of inna fire. If Mammoth doesn't mind some grunt work toting chunks; we can not make this into a eco disaster. Oh yeah and we need some soldier type firepowa on hand, the lice and other shit living on da corpse start getting hungry for live meat once the kaiju meat taints."
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