I think the pod people make perfect employees: They fit in, they're obedient, and they're certainly team players! They're quiet and do what they're told, and they never make a fuss. They have an innate suspicion of anyone who doesn't fit in. They can sniff out malcontents--preferably right at the job interview!

Which explains why they all look at me like that!...OK so I stand out a bit....OK, more than a bit. Fuck 'em, though!

Thankfully, they're all so comatose that an attack is not imminent: the coffee hasn't kicked-in yet. They're pumped full of so much caffeine that you could run the subway car on it. Or the car on them. Either right over them (preferably!) or they'd make good fuel--Soylent Green-type, all mashed up.

If I'd taken half that a few hours ago, it'd all be illegal. Now, though, with the right juice, and at the right time, going to their ordained slots, they're fine, upstanding citizens. Well, barely standing! The lucky few get to have a seat, dozing off while leaning precariously against the neighbouring drone who's trying to block out random thoughts by burying his face in a freesheet of soft sells sprinkled with softer news. The rest reach for a hook to hang from. If only...! Hmmm, meat! It's a cattle car! Off to the production line. "Mooo!" screams the subway train. All you need is a cowcatcher in the front!