THE PLAYERS:
Matt
Glenn
 

I boarded flight 111 to Djibouti. My hands were
sweating, and I wiped them on my shirt. Never
before had I seen such a gruesome sight -- well, except for
the time I saw something really funny. Sir Banks was
the stewardess. He wore a cocktail dress
and served me marguaritas. "Thanks, Peterina,
I said, "for serving me so well in my imperial forces,
and for slaying the Yaffe-Dragon three times." He
ran to get me the complementary peanuts for the
in-flight movie. "Thanks, bitch," I said,
and I kissed the person who I thought was a woman.
"Yuck!" I screamed. "Your beard is disgusting!"
"Hey, all I want to do is get you your
and you keep making fun of me. Let me call
my whore academy and get a bitch over here! Please?"
I considered his offer, and realized -- he was in league with Yaffe!
"Yaffe," I said. "No wonder Mr. Banks is wearing
that skimpy stewardess dress!" To the Bat-cave, I
went immediately to the Bat-computer, pressing many
Bat-keys on the Bat-keyboard with my Bat-fingers. Suddenly my Bat-
crank began to tingle. "We are almost at the
airport," I said, buckling my seatbelt as the pilot
walked through the fuselage cluching the knife thrust
barbarically into his chest. He fell onto me, staining my shirt, and
cracking my ribs. "Goddam," I shouted, "all I wanted
to do was go to the bathroom, and you hadf to molest
my gun-holster. Why? WHY??" At that moment, i knew
that he was gone, and I might have to pilot the plane, that is, if
I wanted to. Well, I didn't, so I decided to
jump out the door. Thank God I landed in the snow 1.1m
from the height of the flight. Even though it was exceedingly low,
I broke my legs, arms, ass, and skull. I realized that I was
dead. Oh, nevermind, I wanted to be dead. What a second.