|
Here, one sees the main lobby and waiting area. Upon entry, guests must traverse the dreaded security check area. The frazzled-looking woman has been stopped prior to entering the metal detector for a random, full-body search. In contrast, one might notice the gentleman in the green jacket, with a gray bazooka in hand. He has passed through the security check point without any trouble. This is even more curious given the message on his shirt (not visible in the photograph) that says "Death to BrickTopia!!!" This gentleman carries a "free access" pass that guarantees that his civil rights will not be violated by a security check. His name is "MegaBlohan" and he is the despised product of a MegaBlox and LEGO marriage. Jealous of pure-bloods all his life, Mr. MegaBlohan has vowed his existence to the destruction of the LEGO way of life. During a prior terrorist attack, Mr. MegaBlohan was thwarted by a security check. Mr. MegaBlohan sued the state claiming that he was singled out because of his MegaBloxian sounding name, and that his civil rights were violated. He insisted that the explosives he carried were for a small mining project in his back-yard. The liberal court, siding with poor Mr. MegaBlohan, agreed that the government had been unfair in its treatment and guaranteed him safe passage through all future security check-points to ensure that his civil rights were preserved. Now, Mr. MegaBlohan is free to commit his rampant acts of terror without fear of undergoing personal injustices. |
|
|
|
|
|
This shot shows the station cafe (in the background). Here guests can purchase hardy fare for later consumption on the train. In the foreground, one can see the ticketing and baggage check area The gentleman in the red shirt is having the size and weight of his bag checked on the yellow machine. Using a scheme taken from the airlines, baggage is limited to ridiculously small sizes and weights. Anything outside these parameters (which mean almost all bags) are subject to high surcharges.
|
|
|
|
|
|
This is the railroad clock.
Management claims that it is always accurate based on synchronization with the national atomic clock.
In fact, this clock has a special feature. Whenever the train is late, management can access a special control to adjust the time on the clock so that it is in synch with the actual arrival of the train.
Due to publicity, this scheme has worked wonderfully well, with many citizens periodically synchronizing their watches with this clock.
Many have commented at how inaccurate their watches are, since they must reset them every day based on information from the railroad clock. |
|
|
|
|
|
Here, one sees the railroad control room. Most operations are computerized, and only one human operator is actually needed. This operator need only monitor the equipment, which is fairly automated. Given the low skill of this position, the railroad pays very low wages. Surprisingly, many have applied for the position, with some even offering their services for free. Thus the railroad has willingly hired multiple operators, given their cheap cost, and given the assumption that more operators should increase safety. However, management has been puzzled about the popularity of this seemingly dull position. In the picture, one can observe the secret benefit of the job, which is called the “safety scam.” Operators obtain a manifest of expected passengers for each train and single out a particularly wealthy one. Then, they call the customer and let them know how "unsafe" train travel can be if the operators were to accidentally switch the train to the wrong track. A generous donation to the train operators union is then suggested. Usually, customers commit to money on the spot. Occasionally further persuasion is necessary. In this case, the operators switch two trains onto the same track, traveling in opposite directions. At the last minute, one train is diverted to a side track to avoid a collision. After this, a subsequent phone call usually produces the desired donation. |
|