 How did the majority of Piltdon workers feel about Feetch?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, August 1958. "Feetch!" grated Ogden Piltdon, president of the Piltdon Opener Company, slamming the drafting board with his hairy fist, "I want results!" Kalvin Feetch shrunk visibly. "But Mr. Piltdon," remonstrated Feetch unsteadily under his employer's glare, "don't you remember? Our own Piltdon opener barely manages to open a can in eight point nine without chimes. It is built to last. It has dignity...." "Dignity," pronounced Piltdon, "is for museums. Four months, Feetch! I want it completely developed, engineered and tooled-up, ready for production. Otherwise, Feetch—" Feetch's body twitched. Four months, Feetch, no more!" A designer had to dream at his board, investigate, search, build, test, compare, discard. He had always wanted to devote all his time to research, but Piltdon Opener had not given him that opportunity. Twenty-five years of close supervision, dead-lines, production headaches, inadequate facilities and assistance. Ah, well, thought Feetch straightening his thin shoulders, he had managed somehow to design a few good things during his twenty-five years with Piltdon. Since the early 1980's the schools had been turning out more technicians than industry could absorb. "Got to be," answered Feetch tiredly. Departures, such as the thermal or motor-driven types, would be too expensive for mass production." They began testing, Hanson operating the openers and Feetch clocking. "Four point four," announced Feetch after the last test. Can-top resistance, internal resistance, cutting tooth performance, handle size and moment, the minimum strength of a woman's hand were some of the variables that had to be balanced within rigid limits. Sector type cutters, traversing several arcs at the same time, had seemed to offer the answer for a while, but the adjusting mechanism necessary to compensate for variable can sizes had been too complex to be practical. Twenty-five years of your life you put in with Piltdon, and he'd fire you just like that if you don't do the impossible. The Piltdon Company is built upon your designs and you get handed this deal!" "Well, well," said Feetch. "I drew my pay every week so I suppose I have no complaints. Piltdon is a household word, but who has heard of Feetch?
 They respected him
 They respected him  They thought he was too careless  They felt indifferent towards him  They thought he was only thinking about money