This is beautiful. You make doing all that work in RCT2 easy. But I'm sure it took you awhile. The roller coaster looks like a lot of fun and the scenery is great.

@Amy, I'm glad you like it. About 35 hours were put into building this park, and that doesn't take into consideration how long it took to build the coasters (not too long, with the exception of the "final" coaster), which were built offsite. Placing the coasters and building the park around it is much easier than trying to fit roller coasters into an existing landscape, which is why I build all my parks from a primarily blank template.

It's time for us to take a journey back to the industrial revolution. No ride is better suited to take you there than Industrial Revolution.





Following Disneyland's successful release of Big Thunder Mountain Railroad in 1979, management determined that a mine train coaster would attract more families to the park, as most of the guests at that time were teenagers or older. Since people who aren't children tend to eat more than people who are, Brookwood executives realized that, if there were more children in the park, they could save money on and increase their profits from food sold in the park by slashing portions in half without lowering the prices. This business model eventually worked, and the CEO of the park won the Nobel Prize in capitalism a few years later. However, the scheme couldn't succeed until they built a coaster that would attract humans of all ages, including those between three and four feet tall, and unfortunately, unlike Disneyland, Brookwood Gardens didn't have seventeen million dollars to spend on one ride, or at all, so they had to find a way to raise funds quickly before mine train coasters became old news.





They spent all of 1980 convincing their guests that their hotdogs were world-famous so they could relish high profits, and by 1981, they had mustered up (not "mustard up" if that's what you were expecting) enough money to build a basic mine train coaster, built on the future site of Oklahoma Rodeo. Even though the coaster was fewer than 2,000 feet in length, it operated successfully from 1981 until 1991, when it was stolen. Although the roller coaster has never been found, the hotdog business model won the second place Nobel Prize in capitalism made of silver.



After Calamity Mine opened in Walibi Wavre in 1992, now known as Walibi Belgium, the Brookwood Gardens CEO used its layout as a reference to design a new, more exciting mine train coaster. He wanted to theme this one after the industrial revolution because A) There were too many western-themed mine train coasters in the world already, B) There was no room in the Wild West portion of the park, and C) Most of the scenery could be built from recycled storage sheds stacked on top of each other.



To build the track, the CEO called upon Richard Trevithick, who designed and built the first steam locomotive. After hearing that Trevithick had passed away in 1833, management called Vekoma, the manufacturers of Calamity Mine. Since the park actually had two million dollars from a previous insurance policy to spend on the construction of the ride, Vekoma probably would have accepted, but the executive in charge of marketing misdialed and accidentally called Vakuuma, a Latvian vacuum cleaner company, instead.



When management found out that this company would be building the ride instead of a real roller coaster manufacturer, they only offered to spend one million on the construction instead of the full two million, but it turned out to be a worthwhile investment. Industrial Revolution opened in 1993 and quickly became the most popular ride in the park, and roller coaster enthusiasts who had previously visited the park in Belgium consistently rated Industrial Revolution as significantly more exciting than Calamity Mine. Those who hadn't been to Belgium were unable to make the comparison, so a picture of Calamity Mine hangs in the queue line with a caption that reads "This roller coaster is more exciting than the one in this picture".



Not only does it have some of the highest ridership in Brookwood Gardens, but it's the cheapest to maintain: the trains clean debris off the track as they go using built-in vacuum mechanisms. Saving a million dollars to end up with the world's only self-cleaning roller coaster didn't win the CEO any more Nobel Prizes in capitalism, but the two-million-dollar policy taken out on the first mine train coaster right before it was stolen did win him a Daytime Emmy in insurance fraud.

You're running thin on coasters mate, that means Brookwood will be out to the public soon!


As for mine....... yeah...... lol I have a LONG LONG LONG way to go.

It's true, there are very few coasters left. Scorpio is the tenth out of twelve, and the eleventh will be following it shortly.



In 1988, Arrow Dynamics built the first roller coaster with seven inversions, Shockwave. This was a memorable era for Six Flags Great America since that's where they decided to build it, but a downcast time for Brookwood Gardens, whose attendance had recently taken up its time-honored hobby of plummeting. Although the park had seen recent success during this decade with a triple-looping, river-dancing, Schwarzkopf-style looper, as well as moderate success with the refurbishment of a pomade-greased, track-slipping, sugary-good bobsled coaster, ticket sales declined in 1988 because everyone was sad that the 80s were going to end soon. Management knew they had to build a new roller coaster soon before the tickets themselves became too forlorn to be sold.





Unfortunately, due to poor ticket sales, the park could not afford to build a new roller coaster without racketeering, so they did some racketeering. By the time all of their schemes had paid off, Arrow had built a second septuple-looper, and Brookwood Gardens knew that a coaster like this was the key to bringing people back into the park. Arrow was contacted, and plans were set to build the tallest and fastest looping roller coaster in the world. However, a day after these plans were made, management realized that their funds had been completely exflunctified. Although they didn't figure out where the money had gone for months, they immediately knew based on the secrecy of the operation that it had to have been someone inside their own company who robbed them, and they eventually discovered that it had been taken by Stealin' Tony. Once a trusted financial manager for the Brookwood corporation, Stealin' Tony was charged in 1989 with grand theft money and was convicted shortly after. Even though the park had regained the majority of their funds, minus court fees and donut tax deductions, Arrow Dynamics did not want anything to do with the scandal, and built their third record-breaking, seven-looping coaster in Six Flags Magic Mountain instead. Brookwood Gardens had to hire Arrow's cheaper but lazier competitor, Cursor, to build their new coaster, which allowed the park executives to dip into the donut tax to buy more donuts.



The downside to choosing this cheapjack manufacturer over an accredited one was that they had no cranes or machines--only used wooden ladders from the local fire department--so not only did the coaster take a while to build, but, despite Arrow's looping coasters being over 170 feet tall, Brookwood's new coaster's height could not exceed the height of the seven-story ladder used to build it. They did attempt to stack two ladders on top of each other to allow the coaster to reach a maximum height of 140 feet, but even after dozens of trials, they couldn't keep the second one balanced on top of the first one for more than about one or two seconds.



This is how they eventually figured out that they had to build the supports first; when they tried to place the track before placing the supports, the ladder would immediately fall forward along with the individual on it. This is the reason why, to this day, the area beneath the ride is filled with sand instead of its former terrain makeup of hard earth and chipped teeth.



On November 10, 1990, construction was completed, and the ride opened to the public the previous week. Since astrology was a popular alternative lifestyle to public school in the early 90s, the ride was named after its astrological sign, Scorpio obviously. Even though it wasn't anywhere near as tall or as fast as Arrow's legendary beasts, with a maximum drop height of 68 feet and a top speed of 46 MPH, it was popular enough to increase attendance and bring ticket profits into the realm of green as opposed to the traditional red.



While no fatalities have actually occurred on this ride, one patron in particular did have a most hapless experience with it. In 1999, a group of baseball umpires drove to Brookwood Gardens on Umpire Ditch Day and rode Scorpio. One of the umpires weighed 350 pounds--over 100 pounds above the weight limit--but the ride operator, who had trained himself to dispatch trains in his sleep, naturally didn't notice when the restraints failed to close over his substantial belly. This was not an issue for this roly-poly referee, who was so big that he actually got stuck in the train, but it didn't work out so well for his 145-pound friend in the seat next to him, who was dumped out of the train during the first loop and then immediately struck by the same oncoming train, the force of which was enough to knock this beanpole ump 15 feet into the air onto another piece of track. He attempted to run on the diagonal section of track to reach lower ground, but didn't see the steep drop and tumbled forward and injured himself, rendering him temporarily immobile at the bottom of the drop. A minute later, the same train charged down that drop and struck the guy a second time, knocking him onto an even lower section of track. His league-regulated umpire padding saved him from more serious injuries, but it was only a matter of seconds before the train would wallop him again, this time in the head. After the third strike, he was out, and his friends, having noticed that he was no longer on the ride and had also been hit several times during the course of the ride by the train they were riding in, attempted to restore his consciousness. Finally, after trying everything, they set fireworks off around him, which eventually woke him up and subsequently set him on fire. Although the fire only lasted a few seconds since he landed in sand, his friend James managed to capture it on high definition video, which he uploaded to YouTube with the title "Blazing Umpire HD". After he was relieved of his flames, the ill-fated baseball adjudicator decided that he wanted to leave Brookwood Gardens forever and go shopping instead, so he turned to his friend and said, "I've had it with this park. Take me out to the mall, James!"

Nicely made! I voted for you in the build it competition round 238. It was one of my favorites. I also like the story line.

Due to a crisis totally "not" related to donuts, updates have been slightly behind schedule. The final coaster will be added in a week, but for now, here's Kinnara.

By the beginning of the twenty-tens, Brookwood Gardens was a moderately successful amusement park with eleven functioning roller coasters. Even though the attendance hadn't dropped significantly in many years, they knew that plummeting would ensue eventually if they didn't build a new roller coaster soon.



For the first time in the park's history, the problem was not financial. Unlike in the 20th century when everything in the park was funded using shortcuts and quick Ponzi schemes, the 21st century became an era of prosperity for the park, due to a combination of new, exciting roller coasters, modern marketing techniques, and the park being featured on World's Deadliest: Amusement Park Edition.



In fact, the issue this time was spatial. The park was so packed full of mildly enjoyable attractions that they ran out of land area to build a new roller coaster. One executive suggested that roller coasters should be built on top of one another, to which the eleven other team members in the room flatly responded "No" in unison.





In addition to completely running out of space, the park also had a second problem to deal with: there was garbage everywhere. Many of the custodians noticed in 2009 that the trash cans had not been replaced, so they threw them all away into other old trashcans, then threw those all away into other trashcans and repeated the cycle until there was a stack of trash cans 20 feet high sticking out of the M.D. Burns Memorial Dumpster.



Park management brainstormed for hours over how to solve this waste crisis, which ultimately led to the brilliant idea to buy more garbage cans and pick up all the trash. Even though the park had enough trash-picker-uppers on their "payroll" to accomplish this task, an environmental group surprisingly advised the park against it, stating that the park had attracted thousands of seagulls, and it would be destroying their ecosystem if the constant influx of trash were to be suddenly taken away from them, which would result in a hefty fine.



After reading the group's policy on avian habitats, the CEO noticed a clause that legally allowed people to drive seagulls away by whacking them with a 2x4. The environmental agency permitted this, and supplied each janitor with the necessary wooden boards to accomplish the task.



The park, however, was too big for the custodial staff to club every gull effectively, so management had to find a way to get all of the seagulls in one place. This resulted in the janitorial staff slowly moving all of the park's garbage into one massive pile in Brookwood Lake, while the executives went to work at assembling the world's longest 2x4.



Once every seagull had found their way to "garbage island", the board was attached to a special mechanism, and the trap was set. On April 22, 2010, which was Earth Day, every guest in Brookwood Gardens watched in awe as the gargantuan 2x4 smacked ten thousand seagulls out of the park at once.



None of them were actually harmed by this, as seagulls are known for their tremendous wood resistance, but they all decided that Brookwood garbage wasn't worth the effort. Cheering and clapping, every guest, staff member, and barracuda yelled "And stay out!" in unison as the immense flock flew away.



It was at that moment that the executives realized that they now had a place to put a new roller coaster. In honor of the seagulls who had been ultimately responsible for the construction of this new ride, management decided that their new coaster should be a flying roller coaster, so they hired a crew to secure the terrain and turn it into an artificial island. As they were anchoring the isle of trash with sand, dirt, rocks, and concrete to keep it from floating away, they noticed that one of the seagulls had not yet left.



One of the handymen, who was an experienced equestrian, attempted to ride the seagull as though it were a horse. Another handyman, who had very poor eyesight and a doctorate in Indian Buddhist mythology, thought he was in the presence of a Kinnara, a half-man, half-bird creature, so he informed the CEO of his discovery. Even though he and the rest of the executives concluded that it was "just Dan riding around on a bird", they named their new flying roller coaster concept after the mythical creature and hired B&M--an American company specializing in Boston-style baked beans--to build it.



The track and supports are made from recycled steel cans that were previously home to beans, while the catwalk is made from old, corrugated steel found in the garbage pile. This does not explain why so many guests had thrown away old, corrugated steel, but it does explain why roller coaster enthusiasts have reported that the ride smells more like beans than any other roller coaster in the world.

The final Brookwood Gardens coaster, which was released for download nearly a month ago, makes it's thread debut. It's worth noting that even though this is the final coaster, there will still be several more updates before the park is released.

Here's Frankenstein: The Ride.



In November 1994, a film adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein was released, grossing over 100 million US dollars at the box office. These profits inspired Brookwood executives to release their own Frankenstein adaptation in the form of a roller coaster in the hopes that they too would receive an equally massive payout.





What they hadn't realized was that, while film is practically limitless in what it can convey and can be enjoyed no matter what part of the world the viewer is in, roller coasters tend to stay in one place--so much so that people sometimes confuse them with rocks, and vice-versa--and the experience is generally limited to a train running along a predetermined track.





While the staff contemplated building their tribute in the form of a dark ride instead, the CEO walked slowly around the table, slapped each executive upside the head, and remarked to each of them individually, "Nobody profits from dark rides!" in the same "What do we look like, Disneyland?" tone each time. After a violent yet strangely motivational filibuster, it was decided unanimously that the Frankenstein homage would take the form of a roller coaster, and it was subsequently determined that the best way to salute the iconic monster was to construct the most massive roller coaster ever built.





Construction on this behemoth of a ride started in late 1995. The crew hired by the park worked for six straight weeks, but management found this very peculiar, as no materials had yet been acquired to construct it. It was discovered after the sixth week that the crew had spent the entire time driving heavy machinery around and taking coffee breaks with hard hats on, so the executives picked up the crew and their 200-foot-tall mobile cranes with their bare hands, threw them out through the park entrance, and yelled in unison, with their fists shaking victoriously, "And stay out!"



The CEO expressed his disappointment to the rest of the team that the crew he hired didn't supply him with a roller coaster, failing to acknowledge that he didn't pay the aforementioned crew by the hour or at all. Construction was therefore delayed until they could find someone willing to work within the park's budget, which at the time was about ten thousand US dollars below zero.



While they were unable to find a willing construction crew by mid 1996, they were able to earn some extra cash by founding an alternative business called Brookwood Organic Produce and Bank Robbers, which turned profits by growing and selling organic produce and robbing banks. In 1997, after amassing over ten million dollars, or "ten rocks" for those racketeering enthusiasts out there, management decided that, due to the recent success of Dorney Park's new hypercoaster, Steel Force, they would hire D.H. Morgan Manufacturing to build the colossal beast.





The CEO submitted his design for an 8,133-foot-long roller coaster, to which D.H. Morgan himself replied in beautiful calligraphy that a coaster of that magnitude, which included a 306-foot drop and a maximum speed of around 95 MPH, would cost closer to 50 million US dollars to build due to geographical and socioeconomic hazards. The CEO of Brookwood Gardens realized that there was no way their recent business venture, abbreviated and generally referred to as BOP 'n' BR, could amass any more lucre to fund this gargantuan project, especially since the robbers from the BR department, who had run out of banks to rob, became bored and began to steal organic produce from the OP department, rendering both sections useless, so he gave up on Morgan and sought alternative methods for erecting the new coaster.





Not wanting to put a record-breaking design to waste, D.H. Morgan Manufacturing built the CEO's coaster in Japan instead, originally marketing it as "The CEO's Revenge" but later settling on "Steel Dragon 2000". The CEO was still credited, but he accidentally signed the blueprint "Steve Okamoto", which was coincidentally the name of the engineer who constructed Steel Force, instead of his own name, so to this day, people believe that the two roller coasters were built by the same individual.





After yet another year of delayed construction, the CEO finally figured out that the only way to construct his masterpiece was to harvest the remains of dead roller coasters and attempt to "bring them back to life" by assembling them all into one enormous monster of a roller coaster. He spent his entire 10-million-dollar budget on paying every employee he could to collect as many old roller coaster track and support pieces from around the world.





He incentivized them by rewarding the employee who gathered the most scrap metal with free donuts for life, with each of the top ten employees receiving a free autographed picture of the roller coaster upon its completion. Not surprisingly, the donut winner was from the bank robber department, as were seven of the other top ten; the other two places were awarded to a ride mechanic who specialized in stealing tools and a crafty organic farmer known for smuggling roma tomatoes.



The 77 employees involved in this operation didn't acquire enough rusty track in their allotted three-month period to build the largest, tallest, or fastest roller coaster in the world, but they did manage to scavenge enough old steel to build one 7,363 feet long and 215 feet high, which, by its opening in 1999, was still the second-longest roller coaster in the world and, with a top speed of 85 MPH, was the fastest continuous-circuit roller coaster at the time and still holds the speed record in the state of Oklahoma.



It still fell 79 feet short of being the longest roller coaster in the world, which at the time was The Ultimate in Lightwater Valley, but since "Frankie" was twice as tall and nearly twice as fast, it was marketed as "The World's Largest Roller Coaster Worth Riding".





Since the track and supports were made entirely from old, recycled steel and brought back to life using lightning and Tesla coils, Frankenstein: The Ride's status as the world's first and only undead coaster transformed it into Brookwood Gardens' most popular ride of all time, and the rating given by the Second Installment of Roller Coaster Tabulators--RCT2 for short--ranks as the highest in the park's history.



Even though the coaster itself was built by the Brookwood Corporation, the trains were supplied by D.H. Morgan. As was customary for Morgan with handwritten letters, the company sent two free roller coaster trains to Brookwood Gardens, which are still used to this day, along with a third train stolen from Steel Force by the bank robbing team to maximize capacity; they also stole half a train from Mamba, split it up, and added one car to the end of each Frankentrain.





To this day, neither park suspects a thing, and since each of the purloined cars was repainted to match the Frankentrains, should they ever get wise, they don't have a case.

Still no download of the park? Come on Terry, don't tease us any longer. (Great work by the way.)

We at Brookwood Enterprises apologize for the lack of communication during the past six months. Last September, the Brookwood Gardens logbook spontaneously combusted, and we've just finished piecing it back together and translating it into English from Swahili.

The southern region of the park is home to the Wild West portion, with one of those regions being the Rocky Mountains. This region was named for its resemblance to a flat version of the Rocky Mountains, and can be found west of the American Southwest region and east of the Middle East. Guests walking due south parallel to the Western Tram Line will know they're in the Rocky Mountains when they approach the plastic dinosaurs of Egypt.



One of the rides in this small, cheap sliver of Americana is Rocky River, a river rapids ride constructed in the mid 90s. Even though the track length is a whopping 59 feet shorter than that of its older, jungle-themed counterpart, Jungle Adventure, Rocky River is considered the more exciting of the two because it contains an additional drop, a short artificial rock tunnel, and the Rocky Mountain environment is so convincing that many guests suffer from altitude sickness while riding. Shortness of breath and fainting are common among riders, which may have more to do with carbon monoxide leaking from an unknown source than a successful scenery illusion. This would also explain the violent nausea, as guests don't generally vomit solely as a result of a spectacular theme. However, there are exceptions. Regardless of the root cause of these unusual symptoms, be it a deadly gas leak that nobody has done anything about in 20 years or altitude sickness twelve feet above sea level, this ride would have a much different history if guests actually remained in the boats.



Shortly after the opening of Rocky River over two decades ago, adventurous but lazy hikers in the area began to flock to the park for the sole purpose of riding the ride and jumping out of the boat. Even though the park sits at the base of the Wichita Mountains, which cost much less to access than Brookwood Gardens and are statistically much less dangerous, many hikers were afraid of heights, or were simply too lazy to hike up an actual mountain. As a result, many boats would leave the station full and return empty. Hikers didn't generally travel in groups of eight, but, since many solo hikers didn't want to be stuck in the wilderness alone--the "wilderness" being a few thousand square feet surrounded by the track--they grabbed unsuspecting riders and leapt out with them to avoid being stranded alone in the mountains, unaware that three other people on the boat would do the exact same thing at some point during the ride. Somehow, none of them ever managed to grab a fellow hiker. Unfortunately for all of them, there was no existing map of the small land area enclosed by the ride, so nearly everyone who sprang or was forced out of their boat during that time period ended up getting lost, never to be heard from again. After 29 guests had been reported missing and presumed deceased, management decided it was time to take action, but they wanted to wait until the casualty count had reached an even 30. Since many of the hikers took an innocent patron with them into the wilderness, the count skipped over 30 and went directly to 31, which simply would not do. They decided to wait until the count had reached 35, but they didn't count on the 34th guest to jump out alone, followed by another twofer, jumping the count up to 36. When that increased to 39, park executives feared that two would jump out together again, so later that night, they sent someone in to see if he could find any of the missing people. He never returned, so they called it an even 40, closed the ride, and refitted it with reinforced restraints made from wrought iron that could only be opened by the ride operator. These tight restraints are often believed to be the true cause of the loss of breath experienced by riders, although the ride's carbon monoxide detector beeps so often that guests dance to its beat while waiting in line.

Yay! Good narration as always!