[ WP ] End with `` Drop it fat-man ''

It was dumb luck really. A swerve of the winds and it would be someone else's fate. But if it was n't here, it would be somewhere else that would have just as many souls damned and immaculate standing side by side. 
 
 He tried not to think—he was just a glorified machine operator, philosophizing was for college students and dead men with long beards. Put the key in, pull the lever, flip the switch. 
 
 Put the key in, pull the lever, flip the switch. That's all that had to be done. Years of training and that's what it came down to. It did n't matter what happened after that, he was a machine operator, and no one blames anyone when its a machine that did the deed. 
 
 His right wrist read, among little hands of barometric pressure and temperature levels, `` 11:01 AM''. Damn, so much for punctuality. 
 
 His hand shook as the key entered. He pulled the lever half hoping it would get stuck. The doors opened as the pilot shouted something unintelligible. 
 
 He flipped the switch and watched the device fall. Curiously, written in broad letters was a name painted on the side of the mechanism with exceptionally military typeface. Right as the pilot was screaming, he read it to himself 
 
 `` **DROP IT! **'' 
 
 `` —*fat man... *'' 
 

