Please Remain Seated

[Intro: A smooth jazz trio plays in the background, crackling like an old vinyl record. A polite, reassuring voice speaks.]
[Spoken, calm, with forced warmth.]
"Welcome aboard. For your safety, please remain seated at all times.
There is no need to exit—because there is no exit."

[The bassline slinks in, the drums shuffle lazily, the piano plays an unsettlingly cheerful melody.]

[Verse 1: Theatrical, spoken-sung, dripping with fake hospitality.]
Sit back, relax, enjoy the view,
We’ll take good care of all of you.
No need to move, no need to roam,
This is your seat, this is your home.

The lights may dim, the walls may bend,
But please don’t fret, this ride won’t end.
Your past is gone, your future’s set—
No need for panic, no need for sweat.

[Pre-Chorus: The music subtly warps, as if the record is melting, backing vocals glitch slightly.]
Oh, we know it feels like time is slo-o-owing… [glitches, warps]
(That’s just part of the sh— [glitches, warps] show… show… show…)
Oh, we know you hear the voices growing…
(But there’s nowhere else to go.)

[A brief pause—the drums stop, the bass note hangs, then the ride resumes.]

[Chorus: Bright, showtune-like, but the vocals are slightly distorted.]
Please remain seated, don’t stand up!
We wouldn’t want to interrupt.
The track goes ‘round, the wheels still spin,
And when you stop—you’ll start again.

[The last word “again” loops unnaturally, as if stuck in a glitch.]

[Verse 2: The music is slightly slower now, the vocals more uneasy.]
The hands on clocks may shake and stall,
But time is not a thing at all.
Your name is filed, your place is set,
No need for answers, no need for debt.

The floor may tilt, the air may hum,
That’s just the sound of things to come.
Your body stays, your mind may roam,
But where you go… you won’t be known.

[Pre-Chorus: Louder, more frantic, instruments slightly out of tune.]
Oh, we know it feels like walls are breathing…
(That’s just part of the ride.)
Oh, we know your pulse is quickly speeding…
(But there’s nowhere left outside.)

[Chorus: The drums hit harder, the melody feels off-balance, like a carousel losing control.]
Please remain seated, don’t stand up!
We wouldn’t want to interrupt.
The track goes ‘round, the wheels still spin,
And when you stop—you’ll start again.

[A warped trumpet blares out of nowhere, then cuts off abruptly, the record skips violently.]

[Bridge: The music slows to a crawl—like a tape losing power. The vocals drop the polite act, becoming desperate.]
[Spoken, breathless, almost breaking character.]
"I… I don’t remember how long I’ve been here.
Do you?"

[A low, mechanical drone rises in the background. The instruments feel stretched, like they’re pulling apart.]

[Spoken, panicked, whispering.]
"Do you remember how you got here?"

[A warped trumpet screeches, the record skips, then—dead silence.]

[Final Chorus: Suddenly, the song snaps back into its cheerful, forced enthusiasm—but the vocals sound strained, almost robotic.]
Please remain seated, don’t stand up!
We wouldn’t want to interrupt.
The track goes ‘round, the wheels still spin,
And when you stop—you’ll start aga-a-a— [glitch, distortion, sudden silence]

[Outro: A soft, distorted voice speaks, glitching in and out.]
"Thank you for riding.
Thank you for waiting.
Thank you for—
Please remain—
Please re—
Please—"

[The audio cuts to silence, like a machine shutting down mid-sentence.]