Joey, the foreman, didn’t bother reporting that the concrete wasn’t setting right. He’d hightail it out of town long gone before anyone noticed, anyway.
He stopped by his pad to collect his stuff. The TV blared the breaking news: A powdery gray fungus, growing fast, covered sidewalks, cars, skyscrapers, and bridges. Even some people, sitting on benches, were suffocated. The infection stemmed from Joey’s construction site. Scientists called it an alien parasite in the concrete.
“That’s right,” Joey crowed. “Goddamn aliens. I mixed it right. This ain’t my fault.” Still, he decided he’d better leave right away, not wait for morning.
Author’s note: My purpose here was to suggest a world-ending scenario without showing much of it, and letting the person who may have caused it walk away…although he’ll probably pay later!