Hilltop Spa and Resort, touted by its shadowy proprietors as “The Nirvana of the Material World,” was once the most successful and lucrative leisure enterprise in the entire world.

Constructed on top of a sanitized mass of compact garbage, the resort relied on a complicated system of pulleys, gondolas, and, most famously, a winding staircase, which provided a long, exhausting trek, a cathartic “fitness challenge” for the radically health-conscious, of which there were surprisingly many. For years, Hilltop Excursion trips were hosted by the Hilltop Corporation, giving interested parties the opportunity to pay to make the trip easier. Those who signed up were given all sorts of provisions and gear, as well as a direct line (in the form of a remote walkie-talkie sort of thing) to Hilltop’s state of the art medical staff. Despite seemingly good intent on the company’s part, the whole thing was a massive sham—the staircase to Hilltop was so grueling and absurd that it would’ve been impossible to traverse without the assistance of Hilltop’s paid Excursion Group package. The trash heap upon which Hilltop rests is a staggering 480 miles high (yes, genuinely), dotted with invisible checkpoints that scan the exclusive Excursion Group wristband, inflicting unpaid hikers with tiny invisible airborne subsonic exhaustion and dehydration injections. This meant accessing Hilltop required both the initial (highly expensive) ticket package, along with the Excursion package. So the foot traffic up the trash heap was composed entirely of wealthy people, which advertisers and gambling companies leveraged by building all sorts of casinos and shops and real estate properties along the route, which Hilltop Co. only owned approx. 30% of. The “benefits” offered by the excursion plan quickly became redundant, and the route to Hilltop became so bloated by glittering advertisements and tourist traps that prospective customers began turning back and requesting refunds, put off by the grotesque tackiness of it all. Even on the best of days, the only people who remain along the staircase are shopowners, salesmen, and delivery personnel. 

This image depicts only the very bottom of the staircase.