A little less brutish here. But what happened? Where are those bricks coming from? Why did that wooden beam snap? Why was a wooden beam used at all for a steel plate? Oh, now you get a steel beam to prop it – fast thinking, hardhat.  Mr. Muscles himself seems annoyed by all this - he’s preoccupied, looking elsewhere, perhaps thinking about how he’ll drop ‘round the site foreman’s house later that night and kick his butt, because Mr. Muscles has better things to do than visit construction sites and compensate for their corner-cutting.

What is he holding up, anyway? And how can he keep that poorly-drawn object from falling over on Hardhat #1’s head? Why doesn’t he wear pants? Is his last name really Muscles, and if so, what’s his first name? Can't be Frankie, because that would sound like a Gambino enforcer. Pity him if it's Adolph.

In the olden days there was a derogatory term for guys like this, the clean-living raw-food muscle-culture enthusiasts. Nature Boy.