From a catalogue’s pages untimely ripp’d:
magazine safety brake system to control the ejection of the front-loading magazine
Not just a stapler, this, but seemingly the most badass stapler in the world. The kind you’d find behind the blast doors of CTU’s supply cupboard. You can hear the chunk of the payload sliding home. You can feel the weight of it. Right now, you want to dive out of your chair and roll into cover behind the nearest filing cabinet.
And yet, and yet, it’s still not enough for me. I’ve written to the manufacturer inquiring about the possibility of throwing some thermal optics on there for late-night operations, and possibly a suppressor for when you’re hiding out in a foreign embassy and need to stick some pages together on the down-low. What pages are you stapling? Top fucking secret pages.
Don’t mistake this for sarcasm. I once closed a staple remover on my fingertip, so I know god damn well how much damage casually wielded Tactical Desktop Instruments can inflict. Safety measures are not to be poo-pooed. I reiterate: poo-poo will not be tolerated.