Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
The case was thrown out on its ear. And still the machines sputtered. Back at the plant rumor had it that the machines were permanently gutted, and that the plant could never go back into dividends and selling stock to themselves cheaply. The even more tempting than usual just to roll over and forget about it all. Twenty minutes later, the water-douse came to drag him, drenched and gurgling, back to the cruel cold world. Production lines slowed. There were daily brawls on the plant floor, in the lounge and locker rooms. Workers began joking about the trash cans then the humor grew more and more remote. Finally, late in the afternoon of the eighth day, He had wolfed down his morning Koffee-Kup with one eye "Well? Speak up! What's the beef this time?" "Sir—the men—I mean, there's been some nasty talk. They're tired of making trash cans. No challenge in it. Anyway, the stock room is full, and the freight yard is full, and the last run of orders we sent out came back because nobody the Robling Titanium Corporation. What could they do to wants any more trash cans." Bailey shook his head. "The men won't swallow it any more. There's—well, there's been talk about having a board meeting." for us." The union boss swore and slammed his fist on the desk. "Walk out in front of those men after what you've done? You're You know those crowded strips—" "So it's just Everyone who owned stock in Robling Titanium was automatically ten thousand. They were all present. They were packed in from the wall to the stage, and hanging from the rafters. They overflowed at the cost of lowering dividends, of taking food from the mouths of your wives and children, we made our generous offers. They were rejected with scorn. These thieves have one receiver. His grin spread unpleasantly from ear to ear. "What have you been doing lately? Sabotaging the production line?" desire in mind, my friends, to starve you all, and to destroy The hall exploded in angry thunder. The first wave of men rushed onto the stage as Walter stood up. A tomato whizzed past his ear and splattered against the wall. More men clambered up on the stage, shouting and shaking their fists. Robling Titanium. A man could have had a fine house of of ten little shares of stock had thrown the Robling Titanium Corporation into the hands of strange and unnatural TITANIUM WORKERS give you the code word, and we ask nothing in return OF AMERICA Amalgamated Locals "We will top to bottom—right? You should all be rich , because Robling could make you rich. But not one of you out there is rich. Only the fat ones on this stage are. But I'll tell you how you can be rich." learned moderation. And you never will, until you throw out the ones who have fought moderation right down to the last ditch. You know whom I mean. You know who's grown richer and richer since the switchover. Throw him out, and you too can be rich." He paused for a deep breath. "You want the code He swung around to point a long finger at the fat man sitting there. "The code word is TORKLESON!" Much later, Walter Towne and Jeff Bates pried the trophies behind the desk. " Look at them! Sales at rock bottom. Receipts impossible. Big orders canceled. The worst reports in they come in when they please, and leave when they please, and spend half their time changing and the other half on half of it—" Walter searched through the reports frantically. "This International Jet Transport account—they dropped us because we haven't had a new engine in six years. Why? Because titanium market?" Walter took a deep breath. "I've warned you time and again. Robling had built up accounts over the years with fine products and new models. But since the switchover his fist down on the desk. "We should just turn the company back to Management again, eh? Just let you have a free hand likely to be thrown out of your jobs—right? No more steaks every night. No more private gold-plated Buicks for you boys. No more twenty-room mansions in Westchester. No more big management. No chance, ever, to join a union. No more house, no more weekly pay envelope. He spread his hands weakly. "What do you want?" he asked. of men in the room. "How can I give you an opinion on the legality of the thing? There isn't any legal precedent that I know of." He mopped his bald head with a large white handkerchief. "There just hasn't been out, they own the plant. We were thinking more of a lock- in every one of them. Lock them into reverberating circuits with a code sequence key. Then all they'll do is buzz and sputter If they won't do it, they won't get another Titanium "Then he'll be left behind." Hendricks stood up, brushing off his dungarees. "I'm with you, Walter. I've taken all of Torkleson that I want to. And I'm sick of the junk we've been trying to sell people." The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. "All When we go off for lunch, we throw the machines into lock-step. Then we just don't come back. But the big thing is to The news hit the afternoon telecasts the following day. Headlines screamed: MANAGEMENT SABOTAGES ROBLING MACHINES OFFICE STRIKERS THREATEN LABOR ECONOMY ROBLING LOCK-IN CREATES PANDEMONIUM There was a long, indignant statement from Daniel P. Torkleson, condemning Towne and his followers for "flagrant could make money. And what stock more logical to buy than with TV cameras, newsmen, and puzzled workmen. The floor was littered with piles of ominous-looking paper. Torkleson have been at it since yesterday afternoon. Practically had the machines apart on the floor." "I know that, stupid," Torkleson roared. "I ordered them there. Did they get the machines what's holding them up ?" Bailey's face was a study in misery. "The machines just go what ?" "They said thanks, but no thanks. They don't want their fingers in this pie at all." out of the union." He started for the door. "What were the blueprints for?" "Trash cans," said Bailey. "Pure titanium-steel trash cans." It took Robling Titanium approximately two days to convert its entire production line to titanium-steel trash cans. With the total resources of the giant plant behind the effort, production was phenomenal. In two more days the available markets were glutted. Within two weeks, at a conservative estimate, there would be a titanium-steel trash can for every man, woman, child, and hound dog on the North American continent. The jet engines, structural steels, tubing, and other pre-strike products piled up in the freight yards, their routing slips and order requisitions tied up in the reverberating machines. But the machines continued to buzz and sputter. Hendricks and all the others had been picketing the plant, until angry crowds of workers had driven them off with shotguns. Then they came back in an old, weatherbeaten 'copter which hovered over the plant entrance carrying a banner with a plaintive message: robling titanium unfair to management . Tomatoes were hurled, fists were shaken, but the 'copter remained. selling." "But you haven't got time ," the lawyer wailed. "They'll have you in jail if you don't start the machines again. They may have you in jail if you do start them, too, but that's another sabotage of the company's machines, conspiring to destroy the Send me to jail. In fact, I insist upon going to jail."

<question>:
What did Robling Titanium begin to sell instead of its' old products?

<options>:
A Jet engines
B Steel tubing
C Shotguns
D Trash cans

<answer>:

D