(no subject)

[v_knidh8er]

[OOM: New Loompaland, more specifically the underbelly of New Loompaland. Even more specific than that, the trash compactor adjacent to the furnace.]

Oompa Loompas are an arboreal species that never would have sullied themselves with matters like waste control, had Wonka the Wicked not intervened. That's not to say that they aren't clever, quite the opposite really, it's just that the idea of something better than just tossing waste to the ground had worked so well up to that point. By modern standards Loompa Technology is far from state of the art, but it has a certain whimsical charm one rarely sees in something so practical. Waste not, want not could very well be the official Loompa Code.

The Loompa Trash compactor is a perfect example of this. Constructed of thousands of discarded holiday chocolate tins, it is a patchwork of color that is both pleasing to the eye and wholly functional. By compacting the refuse before burning it, the Loompas are able to harness a week's worth of energy from one burst of initial furnace power. Thus the heart of New Loompa land has more output than input, making it far more energy efficient than the factory.

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[v_knidh8er]

During the third, and terminal, aspect of the cycle, the light switches from amber to red. By this point sufficient pressure has been built for maximum compression when the upper ceiling of the chamber moves down toward the grated floor.This process, in turn, is completed in three stages.

Stage one has the ceiling compress from full height of twenty feet to ten feet above the floor.
Once this height has been reached, the the grating on the floor opens to a sluice way under the chamber, marking stage two. By allowing any liquid waste out of the room, maximum compression can be reached. This second stage lasts for a count of fifteen seconds which is believed to be an ample time allotment for full drainage.
Stage three brings the ceiling down from ten feet to four, or the maximum height range of the Oompa Loompa people. It is considered a safety precaution that should a Loompa be trapped inside, he be spared from a sudden bone crunching death.

In the unlikely event that a Loompa be trapped inside the Compactor, he can easily find the emergency escape panel on any of the four walls, just below average eye level. Plans are being constructed up to allow escape via the grated panels of the floor should a Loompa not have access either of the walls. Such plans have yet to be implemented.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

Suddenly the roof of the garbage receptacle shudders and moves in a couple of inches. Then everything is morbidly quiet once more, save for the ragged breathing of the explorer below.

The ticking amber light that repeatedly douses the refuse lazily changes to solid red, and before Indy can even react the ceiling begins to rumble and edges slowly downwards. Despite his immediate panic, the filthy hero is quietly grateful that there are no spikes apparent.

He struggles through the waste materials, attempting to place long splintered beams from the recent renovations between the closing walls, but they are simply snapped as the giant trash masher grinds on. The situation doesn't look too good.

He changes tack and searches urgently for some kind of access panel on the sides of the chamber. Though his keen observation picks out the proud metal of one of the escape hatches, the button to open it is covered by the sifting matter beneath, effectively obscured from his sight by woeful design.

[v_knidh8er]

Many hours were spent in designing the drainage system for the compactor. It a compound grate with two layers. When staggered in alignment the grates are water tight. During the draining process, however, they are flush with one another, thus allowing the liquid to pour through.

While the theory behind the release of the liquid seems simple, it is not so in practice. The hydrolics that shift the grates have to be quite powerful in order to move the grates while under the extreme pressure of both the liquid and any other solid matter above. Such machinery is not quiet during operation. Designs are now being drafted to try and counter act the excess noise. Some Loompas believe flooding the entire area with marshmallow would be enough to quiet even the loudest of mechanical sounds.

Loompa engineering is not a perfect science.
Thankfully tunnels and pipes do not require much in terms of design, which is why the entire chamber drains down one central pipe.

[henry-jones-jr.livejournal.com]

As the roof reaches the ten foot hold point, the renting and screeching of the compacting waste dies away, indicating that the primary crushing phase has completed. However, the red light still casts its warning across the now tighter space beneath, and as a result, Indy doesn't falter in his frenzied efforts.

He traces the new sound from the huge pistons and bounds through the muck to the opening as liquid starts to sluice through and reveal its location. Crouching and splaying as much debris away from the hole as possible, he heaves at the rigid slats of the grate.

But his dogged brawn proves futile and after fifteen seconds pass, the grate jerks back into its closed position, rewarding Indy with a nasty blood blister on his thumb.

The ceiling starts to move again, compressing some of the taller piles of trash that have heaped in the corners of the room.

Unfortunately, it didn't occur to the Loompas to actually test the machine's safety measures at various load levels and put reasonable limits on the input, since that would have required time and effort that could be better spent freeing more of their number, as well as devilish long division sums that the simple Loompa engineers are not accustomed to.

This oversight would have little bearing in the normal work week, but the compactor is full due to the recent construction debris and the enormous amount of cocktail party waste. In fact, the compactor is much fuller than ever before. More packed than any scenario that the design planning meetings ever mooted possible.

Consequently, any Loompa who found himself trapped during the current cycle and had somehow failed to flee through the escape panels, would be crushed to death by the excess garbage in the machine, even with the built-in four foot stop gap.

Of course, laying blame on half-assed Loompa engineering doesn't occur to Indy as the chamber becomes more and more claustrophobic and he tries to kick-start his absinthe-addled brain. For some reason, all he can think about is Warren. Get out of my head, kid!

And then it hits him.

He grabs the Meers-customized Zippo from his jacket pocket and flicks the lid open, hurriedly drawing out the wick and inserting it into a secondary hole just millimeters away. Stooping and shouldering the converging garbage, he lights what he hopes is water-resistant fuse material and affixes the lighter to the center of the grate with the built-in magnet. As the roof gets ever closer, Indy retreats as far as possible, diving onto a battered mattress nearby and covering his ears.

Critical seconds pass before a dull thud occurs and a huge bubble forms on the surface of the goo. When it quickly bursts with a rubbery pop, the liquid on the floor starts to drain away, gurgling rapidly through the destroyed grate. Indy doesn't think twice and hurls himself into the enlarged hole as compressed metal and glass fills his vacated space.

Once through, the terrified adventurer is carried down the large bore by the rushing fluid around him, sloshing this way and that as the pipe angles away from vertical. He claws at the smooth walls, fighting to stay on his back as the thrilling journey continues.

However, all good things must come to an end, and this pitch black tunnel is no exception. As it does so, Indy shoots out with the spilling liquid and starts to fall...