The suspicious people of Glasgow have been left wondering “what’s really going on” now that basic, operational public transport has returned to the city, “virtually overnight” and “without warning”.
In the same week that rail strikes were suspended and the sun briefly came out, the speed of change has left many Glaswegians reeling at the “uncanny” nature of events, with many turning to conspiracy theories and studies of the paranormal for answers.
“These are shady goings-on, and no mistake,” said retired mechanic Garry, 72. “Are they harbingers?”
“We are rats in a cage,” he added. “We’re not in control here. They’ve got us on all kinds of drugs, I imagine. You can hear them, can’t you? Whooping away with their helicopters, aren’t they? Well, I can hear them. But they seem to be keeping out of sight.
“Let’s not kid ourselves. It’s not some freak of nature or some benign force that has brought all the trains back, that’s trying to trick us into thinking everything’s just like before when everyone – or at least everyone who isn’t sheeple – knows that it’s not.
“This is something else. But what?”
Many commuters have been complaining about the “shiny whiteness” of everything, and the way ticket conductors now seem to “see through your ticket, and probably scan it with their android retinas and check it for cocaine, rather than before when they used to just glance at it and tick it with a pen if they fancied, and maybe ruffle your hair and give you a sweet out of their apron pocket”.
“What about these driver-only trains an aw,” added Chantelle, a nail salon technician from Eastwood. “How long until their driverless, and the AI running the trains turns on mankind – or at the very least on Scotland, at the behest of their Dutch masters? And we all have to speak Dutch and eat clogs and fly bikes?”
Less daunted Glaswegians have noticed that the revamped Queen Street station and the Glasgow Underground are “pretty much exactly the fuckin same as before, except it’s now 40p to take a shite and the Burger King has turned into a Pret A Manger”.
But Andrew, 21, who spoke to The Daily Belter on the condition that we wouldn’t reveal his name, age, his address at 7 Fenwick Road, Giffnock, or the fact that he was both crying and wetting himself simulatenously during the interview, has revealed his own dawning sense that “something is going terribly terribly wrong at the heart of the city’s public transport system”.
“I’ve no been this scared since they finished repairing the Forth Road Bridge ahead of schedule,” he told us. “I was at the platform waiting for my train at the new Queen St, and everywhere I looked – On Time, On Time, On Time, On Time, On Time, and on and on it went.”
Twitching, he then began to drool and intone an indecipherable incantation, before writing repeatedly on a napkin All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy for the next two hours.