“Order, Order on the Roma Street Train!”

The trains are a weird little concoction of staff members. They hire big fellas, small fellas, hairy, wirey, old, young; pretty much any part of suburbia that have a head on their shoulders can get into the staff of Queensland Rail. It doesn't need to be a full head, it just has to be there.

But sometimes there is a thought that gets tossed around by someone who thinks in the right direction. He calls out to his staff meeting “What is the biggest problem people face about the trains these days?”

Then there's the guy in the corner who's usually pretty quiet, wears his bottle cap glasses, hides his balding head with a cow lick, and possibly has a bad case of separation anxiety, raises his hand and says “Well people tend to get noisy.”

“Noisy how?” Asks a lady who is probably guilty of talking loudly and laughing gaily with her friends about the one time she mistook her foot cream for toothpaste.

“Oh you know,” he began uncertainly. “Kids playing their music loudly, talking about the things they do at parties.”

“Right, so what can we do about it?” the manager demands. His eyes reach out the entirety of the staff stretching across the table.

“Get on with running over the kids,” says the ex-bikie who was grudgingly shunted into the job by his wife, but slowly grew to like the job. But some habits die hard, and history precedes that running things over with a Harley can be quite effective.

“No, to many legalities against that. And then we have to clean up the trains and that shit gets nasty.”

“Put them in a catholic school to show them the wrongs of their ways,” says one fellow in the corner who was neatly dressed and grew up from the sort of history that feared God with a smiling face, because frowning should only be used when God is questioned.

“Funny enough,” the quiet fellow has gotten himself into this conversation, there's no reason to back out now. “One of the Corpus Christie girls told a funny story about a sillouette she shone on a tarpaulin and these two guys-”

“We could quieten them.” This is the guy who's leaning back on his chair and throwing a hackey sack into the air because he got it all in his head that because he does such great work he can get away with procrastinating in broad daylight. And he's already warned the higher ups, who are a bunch of ninnys, that if they say anything about it then he'll sue for creative oppression.

“How would we go about that?” the manager wants to start walking around the table in an intimidating fashion as this is supposed to be a creative process and sometimes a bit of theatrical flare is needed to get these gears grinding properly, but he's been warned against touching some of the staff members inappropriately when they get a good answer.

“We could put a ban on noise on the train?” says mr quiet, feeling quite involved and there's no harm in pushing his luck a little more.

“Not a bad idea, but it might be a little much,” came the reply from the instigator leaning back . “How about we do a trial of a quiet carriage? Just the arse end of it, and just say that nobody can talk loudly or have their music playing?”

Nods go on all around, and the quiet fellow sneaks a few looks at the foot cream lady to see if she was becoming interested in him yet.

That's how I imagine the QR Creative Process went when they came up with this.