Skler
Smash Master
... and here it is!
I parked my car in a building that resembled a parking garage in several ways. It was a big, concrete building with giant, garage-like openings in the front. It was full of cars of all shapes and sizes with no specific plates. There was even a lady getting out of a car in it that looked like somebody you'd come across on the street. This building had a much more sinister purpose though. This building was a car thief.
After parking my car I strode towards the exit and noticed something was amiss. There were two giant fences attached to chains that could easily be moved across the entrances by way of two machines. I looked around and noticed the lady who had just left her car left through a door in the back. I was alone.
That's when the gears started to turn. I watched in abject horror as the enormous fences began to close. It didn't take long for the fences to get into position, leaving me and my car in the gaping maw of this concrete behemoth. Never before had I heard of something like this happening to anyone. Not ever. I'm not a lucky person, but this was unbelievable.
I thought of calling somebody, the police maybe, and explaining to them that my car was trapped in a building. Then I thought that there's a good chance I was not supposed to be in that building in the first place. They might have thought I was a burglar, burglarizing all the cars that were parked there. Burglars do that don't they? Sneak into locked places and burgle things.
Maybe the building was important to the government in some way. It had good security for being a bunch of parked cars. Maybe they were government cars! I couldn't fit through the fence if I tried (I did anyways) and I'm pretty lean. The gap between the fence and the concrete walls was tiny. At best you could toss a three-year-old over the top, and I'm not sure they'd survive the ten foot drop. It's a big fence. The building itself had a severe lack of windows, had I approached it from any other side it would have been fairly clear it wasn't a parking garage.
Perhaps this is a good time to explain how I got into this building. You see, I was going to the local food bank to help them unload trucks. The parking lot was full and this seemingly perfect parking garage was sitting right behind the food bank. It even had an open spot that I could see from the entrance! Sure it was a bit small (there were maybe 40 spots in it), but I didn't plan on being there long and downtown parking is literally impossible to find. At worst I'd get a $10 ticket for parking. I love paying to do work, so I was fine with that.
Anyways, back to the giant building that wanted to keep my car. My first instinct was to run through the door the lady left through. Only a minute had passed since I got into the garage so she had to be close. I sprinted to the green door and noted that it was very hefty, also metallic, and has a lock on it. Really good security for a lockdown scenario I suppose. The door was mercifully unlocked and it lead to concrete stairs. I headed up the stairs and was met by another heavy metal door. This one also had a lock on it, but it opened to the outside. Unfortunately my car couldn't climb stairs or fit through person-sized doors. I tried wiggling the other side of the handle, the door was locked to the outside world. What is so important about this building? They're just cars!
The stairs didn't go any higher so I walked back down into the garage. I looked at the license plates to see if any of them are government workers or something of that sort. There was absolutely nothing special about these cars. One had a GPS in the windshield, but I decided that, while a GPS would compensate for the troubles of being trapped in a giant concrete cage, I had no way of leaving and would rather not be charged with theft. I then choose to look around the building for anything that may help me get out. At this point I honestly felt like I was playing a video game and this wasn't real life. Things like this don't happen to people. I should have had an overhead view and an inventory, not a first person view and a pocket with my keys and wallet in it. I don't even have a grappling hook. In a video game they'd have given me something useful to escape with.
A quick survey of the room, which wasn't terribly big (it fit about 40 cars in 4 columns and has enough room for a big U shaped aisle that lets cars drive in to get into their spots), showed a few points of interest. Apart from the obvious exits that were covered by gigantic fences on chains (which do not budge when pushed, pulled, slid or fadangled) and the heavy green door, there was a different locked door (that was also green) and a decent sized fenced in area. The fence of the fenced in area might as well have lead to the ceiling and contained some machinery. It had a fence door that was locked. Not a single entrance in this place did not have a lock on it. There were no windows either, which is creepy in its own right.
I decided that my attention would be best focused on the two machines that were holding the chains with the fence/gate attached to them. Each one controled one side and they were pretty clearly not supposed to be controlled directly from the machine. Chances are there was a timer and a control panel elsewhere, maybe in that locked fence area with the machines in it. I obviously just needed to take out the guard with the keys and then use them to reach the control panel. Oh wait, this was real life.
After a quick sweep for security cameras near the gates I was satisfied that nobody could see me. I yanked the chain of one machine with all of my strength in an effort to open up an exit. The chain didn't move at all. The other chain proved to be equally stubborn. I was not pleased, the police seemed to be a valid option at this point.
Again I thought about what being caught in a locked building that I don't have a permit for could entail. No, no police, I think to myself. This requires action. I'm a man. A manly man who does things with his hands! I got a closer look at the machines, reassured of my masculinity and filled with testosterone fueled brilliance and energy. There was a tiny chain attached to them that said "manual". I end up tugging on it because hey, why not? I then moved to that machine's other chain and gave it a pull. Nothing. I tried the other machine and chain after, nothing again. Wait, I think to myself, maybe if I pull the chain while tugging on the manual chain? This proved to work a tiny bit, as the chain slid ever so slightly into the machine. I tried again on the same machine, no success. Same thing on the other machine, it moved the fence maybe half an inch. That was half an inch closer to freedom!
I spent maybe 15 minutes desperately tugging on different chains at the same time. Apparently this was a one time deal. My hands were disgusting looking at this point and anyone who happened to be walking by would have seen a desperate looking man clawing away at chains with greasy hands. Whenever I saw movement outside the gates I would duck behind the wall like some sort of feral beast. The day was not going well.
You know what? Tugging on this stuff is for chumps. I was angry at this point. Volunteering should not have landed me in a place like this. I was clearly not the one to blame. This building just looked too much like a parking garage. It should have had a sign or something. During my rage induced thought I noticed that the machines were covered in some sheet metal, like they were containers or something. I lifted one of these covers off a machine, it was like a big cube of metal with rough edges, and placed it on the ground out of sight. It was still pretty loud, especially removing it, and it sounded like I was actually vandalizing this stupid building. Maybe disassembling machines is actually vandalism. Oh well. Under the covers the machine was just a big, ugly engine that clearly served one purpose and one purpose alone. It pulls chains and stops chains from being pulled.
I looked the machine over, hoping that some of the knowledge my engineering buddies have had rubbed off on me somehow. The chain with the gate on it just kind of feeds into the machine, but the other chain, the manual chain, now looked longer since I had exposed the machine's insides. I had to get on my knees for my next attempt at escape and yanked down hard on the manual chain. Still holding the chain I scooted over to the fence chain and grabbed onto it and started to pull. Slowly but surely the fence moved towards me, making an unholy amount of noise as I sit on my knees looking like a car thief who got trapped in a giant cage. Thankfully nobody was walking by or within earshot and curious about all the rattling.
After thirty seconds or so of pulling, this was the slowest moving chain in existence and I was in a terribly uncomfortable position, I decided there was enough room to drive out. I put the cover back on the machine and got into my car, excited to escape what I now believe is car hell. All I wanted to do was leave, it was already too late to volunteer and I looked like a homeless person after all the stuff I had done to get out, not a volunteer. My hair was matted with sweat and my palms were black with grease and other fun garbage. I was still upset about the whole situation and was completely out of the mood to help anyone. Getting into my car I considered parking nearby and then closing the gate, erasing any proof that I was ever in that building.
Too bad for them, I hope they got robbed when I left that gate open. Maybe they'd put a sign up that says "Danger, we have giant gates that close and will trap you and your car for all of eternity. See you in hell."
I drive away and Highway to the Danger Zone came on the radio. I wasted half an hour of my life escaping a prison for cars. At least I got to feel like a bad *** on my way out.
I hate you, building.
I parked my car in a building that resembled a parking garage in several ways. It was a big, concrete building with giant, garage-like openings in the front. It was full of cars of all shapes and sizes with no specific plates. There was even a lady getting out of a car in it that looked like somebody you'd come across on the street. This building had a much more sinister purpose though. This building was a car thief.
After parking my car I strode towards the exit and noticed something was amiss. There were two giant fences attached to chains that could easily be moved across the entrances by way of two machines. I looked around and noticed the lady who had just left her car left through a door in the back. I was alone.
That's when the gears started to turn. I watched in abject horror as the enormous fences began to close. It didn't take long for the fences to get into position, leaving me and my car in the gaping maw of this concrete behemoth. Never before had I heard of something like this happening to anyone. Not ever. I'm not a lucky person, but this was unbelievable.
I thought of calling somebody, the police maybe, and explaining to them that my car was trapped in a building. Then I thought that there's a good chance I was not supposed to be in that building in the first place. They might have thought I was a burglar, burglarizing all the cars that were parked there. Burglars do that don't they? Sneak into locked places and burgle things.
Maybe the building was important to the government in some way. It had good security for being a bunch of parked cars. Maybe they were government cars! I couldn't fit through the fence if I tried (I did anyways) and I'm pretty lean. The gap between the fence and the concrete walls was tiny. At best you could toss a three-year-old over the top, and I'm not sure they'd survive the ten foot drop. It's a big fence. The building itself had a severe lack of windows, had I approached it from any other side it would have been fairly clear it wasn't a parking garage.
Perhaps this is a good time to explain how I got into this building. You see, I was going to the local food bank to help them unload trucks. The parking lot was full and this seemingly perfect parking garage was sitting right behind the food bank. It even had an open spot that I could see from the entrance! Sure it was a bit small (there were maybe 40 spots in it), but I didn't plan on being there long and downtown parking is literally impossible to find. At worst I'd get a $10 ticket for parking. I love paying to do work, so I was fine with that.
Anyways, back to the giant building that wanted to keep my car. My first instinct was to run through the door the lady left through. Only a minute had passed since I got into the garage so she had to be close. I sprinted to the green door and noted that it was very hefty, also metallic, and has a lock on it. Really good security for a lockdown scenario I suppose. The door was mercifully unlocked and it lead to concrete stairs. I headed up the stairs and was met by another heavy metal door. This one also had a lock on it, but it opened to the outside. Unfortunately my car couldn't climb stairs or fit through person-sized doors. I tried wiggling the other side of the handle, the door was locked to the outside world. What is so important about this building? They're just cars!
The stairs didn't go any higher so I walked back down into the garage. I looked at the license plates to see if any of them are government workers or something of that sort. There was absolutely nothing special about these cars. One had a GPS in the windshield, but I decided that, while a GPS would compensate for the troubles of being trapped in a giant concrete cage, I had no way of leaving and would rather not be charged with theft. I then choose to look around the building for anything that may help me get out. At this point I honestly felt like I was playing a video game and this wasn't real life. Things like this don't happen to people. I should have had an overhead view and an inventory, not a first person view and a pocket with my keys and wallet in it. I don't even have a grappling hook. In a video game they'd have given me something useful to escape with.
A quick survey of the room, which wasn't terribly big (it fit about 40 cars in 4 columns and has enough room for a big U shaped aisle that lets cars drive in to get into their spots), showed a few points of interest. Apart from the obvious exits that were covered by gigantic fences on chains (which do not budge when pushed, pulled, slid or fadangled) and the heavy green door, there was a different locked door (that was also green) and a decent sized fenced in area. The fence of the fenced in area might as well have lead to the ceiling and contained some machinery. It had a fence door that was locked. Not a single entrance in this place did not have a lock on it. There were no windows either, which is creepy in its own right.
I decided that my attention would be best focused on the two machines that were holding the chains with the fence/gate attached to them. Each one controled one side and they were pretty clearly not supposed to be controlled directly from the machine. Chances are there was a timer and a control panel elsewhere, maybe in that locked fence area with the machines in it. I obviously just needed to take out the guard with the keys and then use them to reach the control panel. Oh wait, this was real life.
After a quick sweep for security cameras near the gates I was satisfied that nobody could see me. I yanked the chain of one machine with all of my strength in an effort to open up an exit. The chain didn't move at all. The other chain proved to be equally stubborn. I was not pleased, the police seemed to be a valid option at this point.
Again I thought about what being caught in a locked building that I don't have a permit for could entail. No, no police, I think to myself. This requires action. I'm a man. A manly man who does things with his hands! I got a closer look at the machines, reassured of my masculinity and filled with testosterone fueled brilliance and energy. There was a tiny chain attached to them that said "manual". I end up tugging on it because hey, why not? I then moved to that machine's other chain and gave it a pull. Nothing. I tried the other machine and chain after, nothing again. Wait, I think to myself, maybe if I pull the chain while tugging on the manual chain? This proved to work a tiny bit, as the chain slid ever so slightly into the machine. I tried again on the same machine, no success. Same thing on the other machine, it moved the fence maybe half an inch. That was half an inch closer to freedom!
I spent maybe 15 minutes desperately tugging on different chains at the same time. Apparently this was a one time deal. My hands were disgusting looking at this point and anyone who happened to be walking by would have seen a desperate looking man clawing away at chains with greasy hands. Whenever I saw movement outside the gates I would duck behind the wall like some sort of feral beast. The day was not going well.
You know what? Tugging on this stuff is for chumps. I was angry at this point. Volunteering should not have landed me in a place like this. I was clearly not the one to blame. This building just looked too much like a parking garage. It should have had a sign or something. During my rage induced thought I noticed that the machines were covered in some sheet metal, like they were containers or something. I lifted one of these covers off a machine, it was like a big cube of metal with rough edges, and placed it on the ground out of sight. It was still pretty loud, especially removing it, and it sounded like I was actually vandalizing this stupid building. Maybe disassembling machines is actually vandalism. Oh well. Under the covers the machine was just a big, ugly engine that clearly served one purpose and one purpose alone. It pulls chains and stops chains from being pulled.
I looked the machine over, hoping that some of the knowledge my engineering buddies have had rubbed off on me somehow. The chain with the gate on it just kind of feeds into the machine, but the other chain, the manual chain, now looked longer since I had exposed the machine's insides. I had to get on my knees for my next attempt at escape and yanked down hard on the manual chain. Still holding the chain I scooted over to the fence chain and grabbed onto it and started to pull. Slowly but surely the fence moved towards me, making an unholy amount of noise as I sit on my knees looking like a car thief who got trapped in a giant cage. Thankfully nobody was walking by or within earshot and curious about all the rattling.
After thirty seconds or so of pulling, this was the slowest moving chain in existence and I was in a terribly uncomfortable position, I decided there was enough room to drive out. I put the cover back on the machine and got into my car, excited to escape what I now believe is car hell. All I wanted to do was leave, it was already too late to volunteer and I looked like a homeless person after all the stuff I had done to get out, not a volunteer. My hair was matted with sweat and my palms were black with grease and other fun garbage. I was still upset about the whole situation and was completely out of the mood to help anyone. Getting into my car I considered parking nearby and then closing the gate, erasing any proof that I was ever in that building.
Too bad for them, I hope they got robbed when I left that gate open. Maybe they'd put a sign up that says "Danger, we have giant gates that close and will trap you and your car for all of eternity. See you in hell."
I drive away and Highway to the Danger Zone came on the radio. I wasted half an hour of my life escaping a prison for cars. At least I got to feel like a bad *** on my way out.
