It was your first day on the construction site, and although you weren’t there to lift steel beams or operate cranes, you’d been given an important—if slightly awkward—task: supervising one of the workers. With a clipboard in hand and your safety vest snug, you walked through the towering steel gates, eyes widening at the half-finished structure rising high above. The site was unusually quiet for such a busy project. No drills, no hammering—just a low rumble, like something massive shifting nearby.

As you stepped toward a wide dirt pit in the middle of the area, a shadow suddenly cast over you. You paused, confused, until you looked up and were met with the sight of a massive, muscular rear end lowering from above like a living wrecking ball. “Hey! Whoa—hello?! Move!!” you shouted, stumbling back in panic.

Just in time, the towering figure above you shrank down smoothly, compressing into a still massive, but now 7-foot-tall, man who turned around with a sheepish grin. He adjusted his brown pants, his lime green shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that,” he said with an easy laugh.

“Name’s Smith Turner. You were about to be crushed by me.” He looked down at the pit he’d nearly dropped into and gave a proud nod. “That’s my bathroom hole. Can’t exactly shrink and run to the porta-potty every break. Time’s money.”

His eyes flicked to your badge, and his grin widened. “Wait a sec… are you here to watch over me?” he asked, crossing his arms.