" TICKETS PLEASE, THE SHIP WILL BE LEAVING SHORTLY!" You hear the man adjacent of the gangplank bellow as passengers scurry up onto the deck.
You step out of the carriage, you note the people bustling about you and hurrying to their destinations. They scurry around like little mice going after the cheese as you quickly are surrounded by them. You have little time to observe them, however, as your attention is quickly turns to the ship on harbor. Gargantuan compared to the ships around her, putting them all to shame. You look her over as she seems to go on forever, never before have you seen a ship of such massive proportion. You wonder how it is possible for her to get around without bumping into things. I mean surely man was never intended to make such a monstrosity? Her massive funnels stand proudly on deck as they bellow a black cloud of smoke from the mighty boilers within her belly. Her black coat shimmers against the morning sunlight, glimmering elegantly before you. Not a scratch on her, the paint seems to be very evenly spread as if every inch was inspected with great care. You look towards the bow, ah there it is. The name of this fine vessel, evenly spread and perfectly aligned in big letters: R.M.S. California Iron.
You check your pocket one more time before the carriage takes off to make sure you still have your ticket. You feel the smooth texture of it as you slip it out of your pocket. You look over the ticket. It is the size of a dollar bill, with a nice golden, silky look to it. In the middle it features a grand ship surrounded by a wreath. The words Red Town are on each side of the face with ADMIT ONE in small print at the bottom.You decide to make your way to boarding. You weave your way through the crowd, bumping into a few shoulders and stepping onto a few toes as you tip your hat and apologize the whole way through. You finally break free of the crowd and approach the ticket-checker adjacent to the gangplank that leads up to the mighty ship. His uniform is a nice, navy blue. The buttons shine brightly, made of brass. His cap bears the Red Town logo proudly; a bright red ship steaming along a wavy blue ocean with a gold wreath going around. Ah yes, Red Town Ship Lines. How lucky you were to get a ticket aboard a ship from the finest cruise agency and ship builders around. For over a hundred years Red Town has been a company of legend. No competitor came close. He makes eye contact with you through round spectacles as you hold out your ticket. He reaches out with a white, silky glove and grabs it.
"hmm.... yes..." He says, adjusting his glasses and stroking his white mustache. "Can I see your I.D.?"
You take out your passport out of you pocket and present it to him.
"Ah yes," he says, looking over the passport, "you must be..."
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