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HUMOR(?) FROM VAL-U-PROP
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FLASH! OUR CEO BUSTED FOR URINATING!
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SUPERFLASH 05Z-24-06: This just in: Morgan County Sheriff's Deputies detained a  man identified as the CEO of a local airline on charges of trespassing and misdemeanor public exposure. After questioning the man, he was released, saying "Hey! I was just taking a piss behind a tree! There isn't a toilet within five miles of this place!" He added: "I'm sure glad I didn't have to take a dump!"
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OK. It's true. You won't believe this story, but cross my heart and hope to die, it is the truth.
As most of you know, I do a fair amount of hiking and shooting - sometimes even hunting. I usually use a Benjamin Sheridan .22 pneumatic air gun, but also have a Ruger 10/22 rimfire laying around unused. I decided to get back into genuine firearms and made a fantastic deal with a gun broker way the hell out in the boonies of Indiana to trade my Ruger and a couple of air guns for a a .22 LR Henry Repeating Rifle - Lever Action; John Wayne Movies; Westerns; GORGEOUS!
So I made a very long and complicated drive through many forests and farmlands, to the tiny town of Hall, Indiana - a town so small that it has exactly one stop sign. I mean - I was just WAY the hell out there in the middle of no-where. I even had to drive five miles from Hall!
Having drunk a pot of coffee before leaving, and misjudging the time the trip would take, I arrived forty minutes before the gun store opened - with a mighty FULL bladder - and no building nearby whatsoever.
But your CEO is resourceful, and a short drive down a country lane showed a small forested area, down a grassy little slope.
So I drove down and parked and got out and walked into the forest a bit and was doing my business - when I noticed my feet were getting wet. In fact, it seemed that I was actually sinking into some strange, primordial, effluvial ooze hidden under the tall grass. I immediately thought of the van - borrowed from a friend - and turned around, and it, too, was slowly lowering itself into this unseen slime. The goddam thing was about to become a slime submarine, so I jumped into the cab and just barely managed to rock the car forward and back and left and right, until I got enough traction to make it up the grassy slope and get the hell out of there.
I was damn glad I took a Valium before leaving Bloomington.
I thought, "Well, that's the worse that can happen."
Wrong.
Within five minutes of my arrival back at the gun store a large SUV drove up, and a pretty hefty guy got out. I thought: "Good, they're going to open early."
Wrong Again.
With that unmistakable aura of redneck wrath, the guy walks over to me and says, "What the hell were you doing in my field?"
Uh-Oh.
"Field?" I muttered. "I thought it was just a clearing in the forest."
"It was MY property, that's what it WAS, bud, so what the hell were you doing there.?"
"Taking a piss," I said, quite sincerely.
"Yeah?" said the redneck. "We'll see when the deputies get here."
"DEPUTIES! Hey! There wasn't even a 'No Trespassing' or 'Keep Out' sign posted!"
"Don't matter," said the redneck. "There's been a lot of criminal activity going on at that spot, and we'll see what the surveillance camera shows."
SURVEILLANCE CAMERA? I mean I'm out in bum-freak goddam Tunisia or Tasmania or somewhere that's not even on the MAP fer godsake - and they have a SURVEILLANCE CAMERA? To catch someone pissing?
HUHH?? WHUHH??
And then it dawned on me: The effluvial ooze was actually a spring that seeped into a sunny field to the south - a perfect spot for growing pot. And the little turn-out was where the growers collected their stash. So I asked the guy if that was the criminal business and he said, "I don't wanta talk about it."
And then the Smokey's showed up - two of them in a bright, new squad car.
Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh well. . .
They were tall and fat and obviously a little annoyed at having to leave 'Dunkin' Donuts' for this business, but they were polite, in that scary way cops have when they're about to bust your head open. They did confirm my suspicions about the pot growing activity, however. Then they threatened me with arrest for trespassing and public exposure - but not marijuana gathering.
"We had our dispatcher look at the video {VIDEO?!} and it looks like you were taking a leak."
"That's what I was doing," I said. "Look - I drove all the way up here from Bloomington and I had to pee. The store was closed so I just went down there to do it."
"And damn near got stuck in the mud," said one of the cops. "The dispatcher said it was a miracle you got out."
"Pretty close to one," I agreed. "I didn't think I could make it."
By this time everyone had settled down - they realized I was an idiot, which isn't a criminal offense - not a drug runner, which is. In fact, we got to laughing the thing over - became friendly, even. Then the two guys that ran the store drove up, and one of them said," HEY! Are you the fruitcake that was taking a leak by the spring?"
"Oh God," I mumbled. "You have a scanner."
"Hell! EVERYONE has a scanner or CB in their truck. They're yapping about you from here to Terre Haute!"
"Terrific," was all I could say. Inside I was thinking, YES! IT'S ME! THE MAD PISSER FROM COMMIE BLOOMINGTON, CAPTURED AT LAST,  HIS DESCRIPTION BEING BROADCAST ALL ACROSS INDIANA!
But the VIDEO?
So I asked one of the deputies about it and he said, yes, they had the whole thing on tape; trespassing; pissing; getting stuck in the mud; my frantic attempt to free myself from the La Brea Tar Pit Ooze - all of it. On tape.
"And when I get done with work tonight, I'm gonna have a look at it," said the store manager.
"Me too," said the other good ol' boys.
Finally the cops left, shaking my hand of all things, and laughing their heads off. I went into the store with the two pudgy employees and did a deal (that cost me nothing) - and their PC was out of whack, so I was stuck there while they got it up and running again (all the quicker to confirm the "no felony or criminal record" form I filled out with the FBI) and as I waited, even MORE good 'ol boys came in, saying, "Hey! Did you hear about the pothead taking a piss by the spring that got stuck in the mud?" and the managers would point to me and said: "That's him right there."
And I became some sort of weird celebrity - telling and re-telling the story several times to various rednecks. But everyone was really friendly and I joined in with their laughter - because being an idiot DOES have some advantages sometimes.
But I was a SMART idiot. I knew where I was going and who I'd be dealing with - I mean we're talking Gun Store in Redneck HEAVEN, right? So I made sure I wore jeans; a t-shirt; and - most importantly - a really old dozer cap.
I guess it worked because I got plenty of hearty laughs; pats on the back - and a hell of a good deal on the gun.
But . . . still . . . in the back of my mind I know there's a video, taken secretly, of me taking a leak, deep in the archives of the Morgan County Sheriff's Office.
I'm sure the good 'ol boys are sitting around drinking a few with their deputized brethren, having a mighty fine time watching it, laughing their heads off at the MAD COMMIE PISSER FROM BLOOMINGTON WHO GOT STUCK IN THE MUD!!
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BUT IT WAS WORTH IT!
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Ain't she a beauty?
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FLASH! CEO SURVIVES HIS OWN IDIOCY!
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Well, I promised most of you this tale, but was just too dead beat to write it yesterday. I apparently was also extremely dehydrated, as I kept having to get up every hour during the night and guzzle water (which stayed put, by the way - no trips to the John!).
SO!
I decided - since we actually had 36 hours predicted without thunderstorms - to borrow my friend's van and actually go camping/hiking/shooting/etc. for the first time of the year - and My! Was I looking forward to this. So I carefully (?) packed a sufficient amount of food and water for what was supposed to be a 24 hour trip, and loaded up the van with my tent and a tarp and lots of guns and ammo and all the usual stuff - quite a heavy camper I am, for someone who used to backpack in the Sierras!
I arrived at my campsite, situated above a small pond which is connected by a splendid wetland to a larger pond to the West. All of this glory is situated in a valley, the hillsides of which are densely forested with everything from Oak and Ash to Fir trees. Just gorgeous - but a LONG way by dirt road from anybody or anywhere.
My camp is up at the tree line, away from the pond - and presumably the mud. Unfortunately, we had double the rainfall normal for April - I fact I did not take into my thinking (or whatever passes for thinking in the empty space between my ears).
So I get out there and set up my camp - a rather physical task, which made me very thirsty as the temps were in the mid 80sF. So I drank a bunch more of the gallon of water I brought. (I also had a canteen which just about saved my life later.) Then I set up a neat little grill I have that sets on legs and fire is built under it for cooking and the like. Of course, this meant going off into the forest and finding and hacking up dry firewood with an ax, which made me both thirsty and hungry. So I drank some more water, never guessing how valuable it was going to become, and built a fire and cooked a batch of Polish sausages. These tasted so good that I cooked more, and topped it all off with a banana and yogurt, leaving exactly four pieces of bread and two slices of cheese, in my cooler.
But what the hell - I was leaving first thing in the morning anyway, was I not?
Boy was I wrong. After doing some hiking and shooting, I did my usual procedure of sitting in my chair and just watching and listening to day turn to twilight, then dusk, and finally night. I saw a Great Blue Heron make a perfect landing on the pond, and two deer fleeing in panic from something - which was a little scary as we have a big cat, probably a Mountain Lion - on the loose out here. I saw two early ducks and a plethora of red-winged blackbirds, woodpeckers, rabbits, wild turkeys, and even a coyote, which departed rapidly upon seeing me. And so I finally staggered off to my Coleman tent - a gem, as I was to find out - and tucked myself in for a chilly night's sleep.
Of course it was when I got up and tried to move the car from where I'd parked it over to the campsite, that I realized that tall grass can hide pools of water, and mud, and all sorts of things that can really screw up one's automotive plans. In short, I was stuck in the mud about 20 feet from camp. And not just stuck - the wheels were buried in the mud clear to the axles! An absolutely hopeless situation without a tow from a big 4 wheel drive vehicle. And to make matters worse - the entire clan (on whose vast land holdings I camp) WERE IN CHICAGO! I mean, the nearest human was miles and miles away, and there I was, short on water and food, and just about shit out of luck.
OK - Time for some self-reliance, a commodity I am WAY short of. But I tried. I dug out under the wheels and made a watery trench and placed logs therein - when the tires spun they did a fine job of spewing the logs about 50 feet downrange like spears. I went to a spot I know where there are many small sized rocks and laboriously dug them out and lugged them back and actually PAVED under the tires and up the incline, then let it all set for a few hours, hoping the sun would dry out the mud a bit. I even took a hatchet and swiped away at the foliage caught in the tire's hubcaps. Hey - I was really THINKING' THIS ONE THROUGH!
Unfortunately when I spun the tires this time, all the little rocks I'd so worked so hard to get right went shooting backwards like machine gun bullets. I could actually hear them smashing into the pond - and that was at least 50 yards away! It was at this precise moment that I knew this was never going to work - at least not until the mud totally dried. It was also about then that I realized I didn't have hardly any food or water. And God knew how long I was going to be stuck there. It was far too late - and I far too exhausted - to make a mad dash for a paved road to flag down a car. That was going to have to wait until the next day.
But Jeez  . .  . I was THIRSTY and HUNGRY.
Although the water of the pond is not contaminated by fertilizer or chemicals, it is filled up with algae, and many strange bugs. But at the lower pond a stone-lined creek flows from it, and I thought this water might be potable. So I loaded up my Henry Repeater (see attachment) and strung my blessed canteen across my back, put my Winchester Hunting Knife on my belt, and started hiking. It was a hilly half mile to the lower pond and Lord I was tired. But I made it and, sure enough, a strong flowing creek was flowing over rocks and I was just able to get down there and fill the canteen. The water tasted good, and anyway, I could hardly afford to be picky. And this was a REAL life saver - you can live for a couple of weeks without food, but only for a few days without H2O. And for all I knew, I was going to be there for a while.
Well, some of you may not approve with what follows - but then again you may not have burnt off a gadzillion calories trying to raise a SUV like the Titanic, then hiked a mile for one lousy quart of water.
But I went hunting, and for the first time, to kill for food. And I got pretty lucky. I was wearing camos and sitting on a log (for those of you who don't hunt, most of it consists of sitting around waiting for something to come to YOU. I believe this is why so many hunters have pot bellies). I was hidden in some bushes, camos blending in just like they're suppose to, when one of the largest red-tailed squirrels it has ever been my joy to see leaped to a tree branch about 15-20 yards away. I carefully raised the Henry, aimed it with the sincere appreciation that this was going to be a one shot affair - then fired and blew the sucker's head clean off (hollow point bullets will do that).
I then spent about a goddam half-hour trying to FIND the little bastard. JESUS! What a pain! But I did find him, and cut what was left of its head off, then carried it by the tail to the upper pond, gutted and skinned it and washed it, then built a fire, cut the poor squirrel in half and cooked it on my grill, cutting off bits with my knife as they became well-done. It was a pretty slow process, but it did fill me. And gave me the strength I needed to do what was needful on the morrow.
I went to bed early, just so beat I probably felt worse than the squirrel I was digesting. And that's when a thunderstorm roared in. Or, to be more accurate, the first of three thunderstorms roared in. I am a t-storm coward - but somehow wasn't too upset. When there is nothing to do, well, what's to worry about? The good news was that my Coleman tent kept the water out, even though its window screens were partially open - it has a canopy that covers the roof and extends out a few feet.
This was a good thing to find out.
Of course it was LOUD and the lightning was BRIGHT, but by morning it all left. Left everything soaked too, that wasn't inside the tent. And made any thought of resurrecting the van hopeless. It was now mired in a LAKE.
So there was nothing for it but to start the long walk to . . . . I had no idea where. I ate my last piece of bread, grabbed my canteen and rifle (this Mountain Lion has killed several dogs, pigs and cows. I didn't want to be the first human on its menu), and started off, stopping by the stream to fill the canteen. A good idea, because it was hot and at least a couple of miles to the nearest paved road. The rifle and hunting clothes were a good plan, too. In this redneck part of the world, there are many huge pickups with gun racks and their drivers are always glad to stop and chat. (I live in the only part of the world where bicycles and even skateboards have gun racks!)
I finally reached the paved road (have you ever noticed how much FARTHER places are when walking than when driving?). I had the choice of going uphill or down, and you'd best bet I headed down. That squirrel was running out of gas in my fuel tank.
Well - for once in my friggin' life MY PLAN WORKED. Sure enough, a pick up the size of an Abrams tank drove up and pulled over (after I jumped in front of it brandishing my Henry) and a really fine good ol' boy asked what was up. And I told him. Told him I was stuck in the mud; had squirrel for supper and was drinking water from a dubious, if colorful source.
There is one thing about good 'ol boys: They are PREPARED for this sort of thing. This nice old redneck had me back at my campsite in 10 minutes; had a chain attached to my van and connected to his four-wheel drive monster truck, and got the van pulled out in about 2 minutes.
HALLELUJAH! They don't call them "GOOD" ol' boys for nothing. I then offered him money which he refused (they always do), saying with true and righteous Christianity, "Man, this is what we're HERE for."
I like that thought.
The rest of the story is simple. I loaded the van and, more to this guy's wonderful character, he waited and towed me clear out of the wet area. Then he checked the van to make sure it was in good shape, and told me to come visit him sometime (and be sure to bring that Henry Repeater!) and was off, a saint to be sure.
I drove home - CAREFULLY - unloaded the van, then passed out, with strange dreams of vengeful squirrels, in attack mode, biting off my head.
If there is a moral to this story (aside from the fact that I'm an idiot) it is this: There are good people in the world, and a lot of them live in Indiana.
Also, one less squirrel.
Hope you're all well and happy.
Best, JIM
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SUPERFLASH!!!! IT"S TIME FOR OUR ANNUAL TURKEY DROP!!!!
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THE TARGET!
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A certain radio station in Cincinnati is staging a massive promotion in an area of downtown Cincinnati near Riverfront Stadium. The idea is to drop dozens of plump turkeys over that part of town between the skyscrapers and the stadium, each with the station's logo attached as a banner. The turkeys will then fly down and land, providing a free meal to the poor folk that dwell in that part of Cincinnati. Val-U-Prop has been chosen for this job, as we have the lowest freight rates in America.
SO! Grab your gobblers and let's get down there.
Place aircraft on active runway at Bloomington by typing KBMG in the ICAO box. Tune NAV2 to 117.30 and set heading to 094 degrees. Tune ADF to 374. Your Dropmaster has all turkeys stowed, so take off and head 098 degrees at 3000 MSL for 47 NM to:
OVO 374 42 NM at 094 to:
CVG 117.30 20 NM at 055 to:
MDE 379 LOM R21L 110.90 Cincinnati Muni - Lunken Field EL 484 ATIS 120.25
At station passage CVG you'll be flying down the Ohio river. Drop down to 1500 MSL and avoid any radio antennas in your path. The downtown area will be to your right, so turn that way and line up your target as shown above. The Dropmaster will release the birds, and when the gobbling dies down, head to MDE and land at Lunken Field. Runways are:
R21L 110.90 LOM 379 8.3 NM from threshold.
R7/25
R3R
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The DROP! Hmmm . . those are sort of weird looking turkeys . .
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Be sure to contact WKRP AM Radio for prompt payment.
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FLASH! SUPERFLASH!!! ULTRAFLASH!!!
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DISASTER IN CINCINNATI!!!
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TURKEYS WERE FROZEN! CITY BUTTERBALLED!! MAJOR TURKEY DISASTER!
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CINCINNATI AFTER VAL-U-PROP - A RUINED, DESOLATE METROPOLIS.
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FLASH 21Z 11-22-2005: Frozen turkeys, like huge bowling balls, smashed into the city on Thanksgiving Day, crunching windshields; buildings, and rooftops. Eyewitness reports indicate extensive damage to the infrastructure of the Cincinnati/Covington area.  Casualty figures are mercifully light. However, one viewer, who just missed eternity by a gobbler's beak, was heard to exclaim:
"OH! THE HUMANITY!"
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So! Until legal matters are fixed at the source . . .
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IT'S TIME TO GET OUT OF DODGE!!!
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If you have not yet landed at KLUK, do NOT do so. If you have, forget the turkey drop payment, rev those Pratt and Whitneys, and get the hell away from Cincinnati. In fact, get out of Ohio altogether, as fast as you can, and at low altitude.
We in a heapo' trouble, boy!
Take off from KLUK and head 173 degrees as Low As You Can Go As Fast As You Can for 28 NM to:
FLM 117.00 42 NM at 194 to:
HYK 112.60 50 NM at 230 to:
TYC 272 45 NM at 240 to:
BVQ LOM R7 GLASGOW MUNI, KY EL 715 AWOS 118.525
R25
As the Ohio Air National Guard; State Trooper Helicopter Division; FBI and John Ashcroft are looking for you, you'd best make this a short, sweet trip. When you arrive at Glasgow (which has no tower) do NOT break radio silence. Just land, and taxi to the clump of trees just north of the runway and shut down, making sure you are well hidden by the foliage.
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Hide that plane in the bushes!
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WHY I DON'T USE ATC IN FS2002:
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ANOTHER HAPPY MOMENT IN AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL
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FLASH! ULTRAFLASH!!!
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OUR CEO FOUND IN A "HOSPITAL" NEAR YUCCA MOUNTAIN!
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UNDERWOOD MISTAKEN FOR RADIOACTIVE WASTE!
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It seems he had a multiplicity of problems, too gross to contemplate here.
Suffice to say, although impeded by various controlled substances - as well as a catheter (OUCH!) - he insisted on flying the trip back himself.
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This may not have been a REALLY bright thing to do.
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SAEED'S BACK!
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SAEED
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THE FOLLOWING WAS RECEIVED AT VP HEADQUARTERS 17Z 9-10-2003:
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Greetings komade Underwood
I haf just avived en Bloominton.
I send here a foto of my aeroplane "dusting" your field.
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 Saeed al-Sahaf
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We've been afraid of this for some time, but we hardly expected to get sprayed by . . say . . that spray couldn't be . .
SADDAM'S WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION??!!
No. We're still breathing, so it must be pesticide.
It sure don't smell REAL GOOD .. of course, that could be Saeed's B.O.
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We've been tracking Saeed's progress, in the vain hope he would crash. Unfortunately . . .
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THIS RECEIVED THIS WEEK FROM THE COMMIE FIEND:
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Vell...sorry that I haf not completed...
...ze race.
Greetings komrades. I am stuck in Brisbane. I haf major problems with instruments in Illyushin. Unable to continue ze flight.
I vill make ze way to Amerika and hopefully I can fly again with your airline?
I vill call again when I haf made some progress.
Saeed
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OUR RESPONSE:
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SURE YOU CAN FLY WITH VAL-U-PROP!
And if you belive THAT, you will also believe in Elves; the Tooth Fairy; and Leprachauns.
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SAEED SAYS:
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Cuba
Greetings Komrads,
I haf made it to Cuba.
I haf aeroplane to fly to Amerika.
I vill be there very shortly.
Saeed
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TO WHICH WE REPLIED:
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Uh . . . Jeez . . What'd you get in Cuba, a Ford Trimotor? A Curtiss Jenny? Or are they that advanced?
Maybe you should stay right there and fly for Fidel - you seem to have a lot in common with him.
Or, why not take a header in the Bermuda Triangle or become a grease spot in Haiti?
Just remember, our Cargoliner and C-54 BOTH have twin 50s, bomb capability, and I have a very itchy trigger finger.
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AND NOW HE HAS ARRIVED. BUT WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH HIM AND HIS ANCIENT AIRCRAFT?
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FLASH!!!
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FLASH!! BEECH BARON PILOT GOES NUTSOID!!
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ATTACKS DC-8 OVER NIAGRA FALLS!! NOT A PRETTY SIGHT!!!
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DC-8 PILOT HEARD TO MUTTER: "What - ME worry??"
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CRAZED PILOT DISCOVERED!!!
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CRAZO ACCUSED OF HIJACKING!!
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CLAIMS "I was not in airplane: I was not flying airplane: I've not SEEN  airplane! Wot eez Airplane? Beeg Bird in SKY?? These are lies made up - no-one can fly like bird!!"
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CLAIMS INNOCENCE!!!
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"The Peece-Loffing-Pipple of Iraq would NEFFER stoop to such tactic!! I was merely going to a friend's wedding that is all!"
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Was heard to mutter: "They are not in the city, these invaders!! They are Sheesh-Ka-Bobs roasting in hell on Barbeque of God even as we speak. Where is Saddam who? I have never heard of this person!! It is lies all lies!! Saddam WHO?"
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FLASH! CO-PILOT FOUND!
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Discovered in Lake!
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Identified as Him Noh Dik, the second Beech hijacker was found today, swimming in Lake Huron. "Fishing! Hee-Hee!" said the madman. "With  RODS!!! Hee-Hee-Hee!" While munching on a Sturgeon he said: "Hee-Hee! Where are White Women? Hee-HEE! Hee-HEE!'
Dragged away in chains, Noh Dik uttered a dire warning: "HEE! HEE! HEE!"
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