Amiga Power did this once, but with a heart beat monitor. So it was, in fact, completely different. With not a single piece of real hardware to back me up, it's not going to be as professional, but I can try...
Hundreds of people gather together on a crowded trading floor, each sat at a high tech computer terminal linked to thousands of information sources, with the power to buy billions of dollars worth of stock in any company imaginable. Everybody shouts at the top of their voice, throwing bits of paper around and generally looking important. Deals are struck and companies rise and fall within minutes. You come home at the end of the 12-hour day, utterly exhausted, but knowing that you had great fun.
You sit down and work out the price elasticity demand of a Mars Bar, then proceed to learn about Government Fiscal Policy from 1982 and how Mrs Thatcher took on the miner's trade union, and top it all off with an in depth analysis of the factors of production.
Obviously, it's Stock Market Trading.
You spend three months running a computer simulation of banana flavouring for a new type of fruity drink. When you have finished, you write down a formula.
You enter the classroom as Vinné is on his way out. Smoke fills the Lab and you proceed to have an hour of non-stop destruction, armed only with a bunsen and a seemingly inexhaustible supply of flammable products. Specialist acrobats swing their way around the room while an artwork team takes bald shots of you know who. Sinks are filled, tests are burnt and the air gradually becomes unbreathable. As you stagger out of the Lab, you hide several feet of exported documents under your coat.
Even more obviously, it's Chemistry.
You work in the fields, ploughing and sowing, then picking the food and delivering it to The Leader. You worship him daily and give all your effort and resources to him and bettering The Cause.
You work in the classrooms, colouring and copying, then delivering the grades to The Head's bottom line. Every Friday, you gather together and stand in silence as he walks in and programmes you. You devote seven hours a day to working for him, and His House.
This is a tough one. I'd have to say it's a draw.
Thirty large, sweaty men line up and run into each other. The 'up front' players tackle the 'behind' players and take them from behind. They group together, all holding onto each other's bodies and strain against the other team. One of them takes a penetrating position and grabs a ball, running to the 'scoring line' and being piled on top of by everyone else.
I don't think so...