Moscow Machination

The steel cable had in essence clubbed the nose cones of the trains together. When coupled with high speeds and aerodynamics, this had made the trains airborne. The Chinese designers aka the Japanese, had never considered the little deviant known as the centrifugal force. Why would they? They weren’t making a rollercoaster for Disney World, Dalian.

This Centrifugal deviant, forced the trains to lift off and unwind at the same time. The mellow white train, the almost invisible steel cable and the CRH400A all formed a humongous S shaped rotating chopper blade. It was still trippy.

The first casualty was the hi-tech fence that guarded the tracks against peasant revolutions. The trains, acting like a whip, blasted one out to Rangoon.

The eastern fence flew a 100ft before crashing through the paint shop of the Datsun Auto’s manufacturing facility. No personnel were injured as paint shops were considered to be too hazardous, even in China. The surviving Datsuns looked like they had been in an accident involving tattoo artists at a gay pride rally.

It would leave an indelible black mark on Chinese manufacturing, or so hoped Primakov.

The western fence flew into the smart underwear maker plant. Here the damage was more devastating. Stores, supplies and electronics all burnt to the ground. The devastation sent the smart underwear industry, back to the stone ages. This would force the California company to remove the ‘Designed in California’ tag and ship the remnants to the Democratic Republic of Congo.

The trains, still spinning, headed in the north-westerly direction with a ton of angular momentum.

Inside the CHR400A, Zhen Zhao and Chang Chou were still alive and relatively unharmed. They were strapped into the Japanese designed seats. Chang Chou, resigned to fate, decided to think of happy things. Early childhood, her first ramen… that kind of shit.

Zhen Zhao however simply couldn’t look away from the spectacle in the CRH300’s cockpit. When the trains had taken off, the cockpit’s occupants: Wang, Wang’s wang, the 6’6” Mongolian and his wang had all been unstrapped and strutting. With gravity suddenly taking a backseat to centrifugal forces all four had been hurled around the cabin like an angry babushka stirring at her sauerkraut.

In an effort to stabilize himself, the Mongolian dude had made a grab for Wang. Wang himself was attempting to keep his privates covered. Zhen meanwhile couldn’t take her eyes off the wangs.

After 10 more micro seconds, Zhen averted her eyes and looked down. On her lap stuck between her seven inch skirt was the CRH400A’s operator manual. She wrenched it out of her trembling thighs and went straight to the end of the 600 page book. She went to the end for two reasons. One, because the last section was in Chinese and two, because most manuals put apocalyptic scenarios in the end. Like replace your LG TV or check power switch or call some 1800-FUCK-NUMBER.

As expected the top of the last page had some mumbo jumbo about toll free numbers. Zhen Zhao skimmed down. Some pencil pusher in Beijing was quoted as saying ‘Human capital is our greatest asset. We will always save ours.’ Zhen Zhao couldn’t believe this bull.

After travelling about 250 meters in the North West direction, the trains tired of whirling through the air decided to cave in to gravity. Right about there was the largest train manufacturing plant in Southern China. This particular plant happened to be the one designing and manufacturing the new age “Absolutely and Completely Made in China” trains like the CRH400A.

Zhen’s intestines indicated that they were beginning their descent while her field of vision confirmed that they would be landing smack in the middle of China Rail’s stamping unit. She had toured the plant a month ago. Back then it was an honor. The stamping unit… fuck…

Focusing back to the manual, she skimmed down 2 more inches towards the bottom of the last page. WTF?

Chang Chou observed the burly Mongolian’s vinegar strokes in horror as she finally solved the mystery behind the latte spillage just 8 seconds ago. Her thoughts were in disarray. She could no longer remember her first encounter with the chopsticks…

The coupled trains had thus far completed 3 full rotations on their flight to freedom. On the fourth rotation the far end of the CRH400A, smacked a large exhaust chimney at the CRH rail facility. The chimney would land 1.6 Kms away at a German factory that made porcelain urinals for malls. The chimney chose to land at the testing facility which housed about a thousand gallons of recycled urine.

Zhen Zhao read again. In simplified Chinese it read: ‘If in danger, Call out to your badass supreme leader.’

Zhen Zhao began half-heartedly, “Steve Jobs? Oh wait… Mao? Mao… Mao?”

On her 7^th ‘Mao’, Zhen Zhao and Chang Chou felt a massive explosion under their sweet bottoms. Nano seconds later, so did the eight hundred other screaming passengers on the Shenzhen to Beijing, CRH400A.