Millennium Falcon Business Class is a bit of an unhinged crime caper.
This is part 3 of 5.
My pride. My joy. My magnum opus that soaked up every last second of my time as well as wiped out the entirety of our savings — mine and Kim’s — while sinking all of our collective Visas and MasterCards to the depths of credit.
I remember every step that got us here.
How, contrary to my predictions, it wasn’t the decommissioned StarWars attraction that we acquired from Disneyland Paris that posed the biggest financial hit — the park administration was actually thrilled to have found a sucker willing to take that huge piece of useless garbage off their hands, sparing them a costly process of disposal.
How retrofitting the damn thing to look and act like a business class cabin sent our team deep into red.
How we worked, for months, off random promotional material, publicly available schematics, YouTube videos, and even occasional content from influencers touting their glamorous luxury travel lifestyle, spending thousands of Francs, Euros and, in one case Zloty, in payments and bribes to buy up the furnishings, gadgets, partitions, trays, doors, containers, drawers, linings, curtains, carpeting. The numerous scavenging trips to ’Europe’s Arizona’ — the Teruel Airport or the continent’s largest aircraft cemetery, all the effort resulting in us having an interior that could pass as a business class cabin if you weren’t looking too closely.
The hi-res LCD monitors lining the outside of the Box behind each cabin window, hooked up to a computer running Microsoft Flight Simulator.
The attraction’s hydraulics, originally designed to fool the human brain into thinking it was being jerked around the galaxy far far away, retrofitted and tweaked to gently tilt the Box to simulate the take off and in-flight vibration effect.
A powerful mobile signal jammer and a custom ‘on-board WiFi’ module — the tech crucial for the next step in our plan.
My breath now in check, I take a glance around the Box: Kim, changed and looking dazzling in a flight attendant’s suit, Kevin poking his red mop from behind the curtain covering the door to the ‘cockpit’, as well as Chloe, Noa, Elias and Samuel — our fellow ‘passengers’ du jour — are already there, looking at me expectantly.
“Alright, Posse.” I exclaim. “Commence Stage #2!”
While I have you, my tiny but feisty dark story Perfectopia is currently just 99c on Amazon (or free with Kindle Unlimited subscription). It's a totally unhinged near-future dystopian shit. You’ll love it.
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