Above the dais, a sign read, "Boys, come see the guidance counselor." The woman standing underneath, wearing naught but undergarments, began to strike promiscuous poses, entreating and seducing the children gathered around her. Initially, the many young people in the sunny Mediterranean courtyard showed disinterest, sparing the model a brief glance before returning to their conversations. As the display continued, the children became more agitated, and before long the strange looks and whispered comments transformed into fearful shrieking. The kids ran hastily away from the woman on the dais; it appeared they'd had enough.
Day turned to night, and Jack walked through a parking lot dotted with semi cabs in various states of disrepair. As he passed a trailer, it opened and a flood of jumpsuit-clad people streamed forth. Jack watched with interest as they exited.
"There's even more," said a voice.
Sure enough, the team advanced on one of the cabs and laid out a collection of scrap metal. In a beautifully choreographed ballet, the team began bending the metal into the shape of a trailer, each person executing the task in fluid, wave-like motion with one another.
Jack watched for a bit before continuing on to the warehouse on the other end of the lot. He entered, found a small room off the main factory floor, and inspected the clothes there.
"Poster, huh?" said the narrator, whom Jack figured to be the principal. "She was sexually promiscuous, eh?" he mocked. Jack only half-listened; the derision was meant for the children, not him.
