"Uh, guys, I think you just disabled our fax machines." "Oh no," they say, "We didn't do it." "You just cut cables, there's a 50-pair cable that goes straight to our datacenter and our fax machines abruptly died. I'm pretty sure that's why." Continued denials. I get John, their boss, on the phone. "I'll be right over!" he says.
An hour or less later, the agitated senior VPs had calmed a bit, the faxes were flooding the paper trays, and the money could flow once more. We never saw Brutus again. The last words I heard him say were, "But you said to cut all of the blue ones!"
We had more team-shuffling after that, and John's new guy, who was more conscientious than most of his predecessors, still managed to consistently mislabel a jack or three on every project. Eventually, my boss finally relented and hired a new company to run cable for us. They always showed up on time, and I never had to troubleshoot mystery jack numbers again.