Predator Press
[LOBO]
Glenda couldn't go ... she wanted to stay home and wax her mustache.
So that left Mr. Insanity, me and a lifeless Dash Cunning. And when Dash "came to" he kept insisting that there was someone on the wing, tearing up the airplane engine. So I suspect Sapphire was tagging along to some capacity as well.
We absently wolfed down plastic wrapped boxes of chicken cordon bleu and lobster tails, admiring her destructive prowess through the oval window as the passengers screamed.
"Why didn't she just come onboard with the rest of us?" asked Mr. Insanity. "We bought her a ticket."
"One day son," says me "when you're old enough, I'll explain to you the differences between men and women."
"But I'm forty four. I'm almost ten years older than you are. Hell, I bought the beer at our Superbowl party!"
Stupid kids. Always so anxious to grow up. "Has Dash stopped screaming yet?"
Mr. Insanity lifted his heavy boot from the pillow over Dash's face. "Sleeping, I guess."
"Poor guy. Must be exhausted to sleep through all this."
***
Eventually, we were summoned to the cockpit.
Captain Smith was furious. "Who the hell is that chick ripping apart my airplane and endangering all of our lives?" he demanded.
"That's Sapphire," I replied. "She's a little moody from time to time. Estrogen imbalances combined with a hydraulic pressure surge would be my guess."
"Isn't she the--?" Mr. Insanity began.
"She," I interrupted, "has just had her heart broken by that guy with the pillow on his head." I pointed at Dash. "Mr. Cunning has stolen her heart, her virtue, and all her albums --including the boxed set of William Shatner, Live at Budokan-- and now refuses to marry her."
Mr. Insanity looked at me, bewildered.
"The cad!" growled Captain Smith. "The boxed set? The one that has Shatner doing Darling Nikki with Patrick Stuart and Lemmie from Motorhead?"
"The very same," I says.
"I'll fix this right now. I'm a Captain, dammit. I can marry people." The Captain wandered back into the passenger section. "Anybody have any objections to these two getting hitched?"
The panicking passengers stopped lighting fires and stabbing each other. After a moment of quiet reflection, they all replied in unison "No. Not really."
"Then I now present you with Mister and Misses Dash Cunning. You may all sit down and finally shut the Hell up." Captain Smith turned on his heel and returned to the cockpit, slamming the door.
"Are you sure this was a good idea?" asked Mr. Insanity.
"It was mine wasn't it?" I says distractedly. But after five minutes, I still can't find the parachute I had stowed in my briefcase under the laptop.
Houston, we may have a problem.
[LOBO]
Glenda couldn't go ... she wanted to stay home and wax her mustache.
So that left Mr. Insanity, me and a lifeless Dash Cunning. And when Dash "came to" he kept insisting that there was someone on the wing, tearing up the airplane engine. So I suspect Sapphire was tagging along to some capacity as well.
We absently wolfed down plastic wrapped boxes of chicken cordon bleu and lobster tails, admiring her destructive prowess through the oval window as the passengers screamed.
"Why didn't she just come onboard with the rest of us?" asked Mr. Insanity. "We bought her a ticket."
"One day son," says me "when you're old enough, I'll explain to you the differences between men and women."
"But I'm forty four. I'm almost ten years older than you are. Hell, I bought the beer at our Superbowl party!"
Stupid kids. Always so anxious to grow up. "Has Dash stopped screaming yet?"
Mr. Insanity lifted his heavy boot from the pillow over Dash's face. "Sleeping, I guess."
"Poor guy. Must be exhausted to sleep through all this."
Eventually, we were summoned to the cockpit.
Captain Smith was furious. "Who the hell is that chick ripping apart my airplane and endangering all of our lives?" he demanded.
"That's Sapphire," I replied. "She's a little moody from time to time. Estrogen imbalances combined with a hydraulic pressure surge would be my guess."
"Isn't she the--?" Mr. Insanity began.
"She," I interrupted, "has just had her heart broken by that guy with the pillow on his head." I pointed at Dash. "Mr. Cunning has stolen her heart, her virtue, and all her albums --including the boxed set of William Shatner, Live at Budokan-- and now refuses to marry her."
Mr. Insanity looked at me, bewildered.
"The cad!" growled Captain Smith. "The boxed set? The one that has Shatner doing Darling Nikki with Patrick Stuart and Lemmie from Motorhead?"
"The very same," I says.
"I'll fix this right now. I'm a Captain, dammit. I can marry people." The Captain wandered back into the passenger section. "Anybody have any objections to these two getting hitched?"
The panicking passengers stopped lighting fires and stabbing each other. After a moment of quiet reflection, they all replied in unison "No. Not really."
"Then I now present you with Mister and Misses Dash Cunning. You may all sit down and finally shut the Hell up." Captain Smith turned on his heel and returned to the cockpit, slamming the door.
"Are you sure this was a good idea?" asked Mr. Insanity.
"It was mine wasn't it?" I says distractedly. But after five minutes, I still can't find the parachute I had stowed in my briefcase under the laptop.
Houston, we may have a problem.
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