It all begins so normally. Down at the factory, any factory, a few hundred assembly line and maintenance employees are given a round of pink slips. Sad as it is to see all of these people losing their jobs, big layoffs are a fact of life. Those not working at the factory wonder if the company in question is moving out of town or going out of business. Their questions are answered a few days later when scores of newcomers show up and begin operating the same machines and mopping the same floors that their neighbors had just before.
These newcomers are very difficult to communicate with, and choose not to mix with the community at large. Instead, they form their own cliques, and when they have enough money, buy rows of houses in dirt cheap and high risk parts of town. There, they form their own community, and while cliques are still cliques, the newcomers have a sort of mutual territorial bond. Meanwhile, the men and women laid off are roaming the streets in search of new occupations. Ultimately, some work menial jobs for minimum wage, others apply for public assistance, and a few leave the city where they were more than likely born and raised to find what they lost.
At the factory, things are going swell. The bosses are making more money than ever before and the workers are earning far less than their predecessors did. Strangely enough, both bourgeoisie and proletariat alike are just fine with this arrangement. Why? Because the bosses' hires are undocumented, which means that they cannot be monitored by local, state, or federal labor agencies. Consequently, they are paid salaries far beneath the minimum wage. The illegals could care less as what they earn in America is still preferable to what passes for compensation back home. The company officers worry from time to time about the possibility of being caught, but are secure in the knowledge that none of their workers would dare turn themselves in.