370 ==>

Your mom's island.

Home of you, sometimes your mom, and sometimes guests, but those are irregular and irrelevant.

This island has a lot on it.  First, it exists atop a dormant volcano.  Second, it is the home of WDG industries.  Third, it has the infamous Walk of Fame, which, if you've forgotten month-old lore, is a walk of japes and gaffs and gooferies which includes your original home.  Fourth, it has one of the largest homes in the southern hemisphere.  Fifth, it has the largest hedge maze in the pacific, which includes huge places like California, Japan, and China.  Sixth, it has the ruins of an ancient race of people who believed that frogs were gods or something (you aren't quite sure about it), which are also the building block for the first half of Sburb.  And lastly, seventh, it has a fucking space elevator.  

Your mom had the flu one weekend and then in her haze, she pulled up a feasible plan for a space elevator, but the problem was she wrote it on a piece of toilet paper.  Luckily, she forgot to flush, she forgot to even wipe, she just stuck it to her foot and moved on from it.  Eventually, she came to her senses and found that there was a plan for a fucking space elevator on her foot, and so she used it to build it.  It took only a year, and it serves as a source of huge scientific discovery.  Luckily, today is an off day for the scientific community, as it serves as an anniversary of some really old, really dumb discovery that revolutionized anywhere between 5 and 28 separate fields.

>Alphys: send the package