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[at-l] Two jets and a blow up doll

Well, okay then:

A jet leaves Katahdin at 8:00 a.m. A jet leaves Springer at some other 
time. They are flying toward each other. The genderfree captain of K jet 
has a jetside romance with a genderfree attendant at the side of the 
plane. Afterward, the capt. smokes secondhand smoke. The captain of S jet 
makes a cell phone call to make sure that the shuttle will be at the next 
road crossing, 'cause, of course, this is a 'slightflight' (akin to a 
slackpack). As the capt of K jet is returning to his/her command chair, 
they decide to imbibe in some beer. MMMMMMmmmm, beer. Anyway, as the 
second frosty Duff goes down, the conversation turns to the flames coming 
out of the number two engine. The number two engine was manufactured by 
MSR. It was either on or off. The number one engine was produced by the 
fine folks at Coleman, in Kansas. It was simmering away. The 
number three jet was a Szzzip. J. Fred was shoveling wood in 
like a mad man. Meantime, back in Florida (the Georgia jet got lost) the 
capt couldn't see very well cause the sun was in his/her eyes. Solution? 
Open an umbrella. Wind blows the damn thing right out the window. (Two 
sidebars: It blew the cloth part up, the wrong direction, first. I love 
that. Second, always have the windshield on your jets closed when in 
flight)  When S jet's crew figured out they were lost, they knew they had 
to fly some Mail Macro Miles (just like the USPS) to get back on track. 
The K jet capt realized that the difference in flames produced by 
the engines had caused them to fly in circles. Well, more like ovals, to 
be geometrically correct. Time for a little air magic. The guy in 
Thermarest chair A, Row 4, climbs out on the wing with his Leatherman 
and adjusts the coleman to run the same as the MSR, without all the soot. 
The captain wondered out loud why they don't have a control for that in 
the non-gender-specific cockpit %-) The S jet crew had their section maps 
laying (lying?) on the floor, trying to figure out where would be the 
closes place to getback in the trail, as a yellow jet-trail blaze was now 
imminent. Just as the big finger was getting ready to point to the best 
spot, a big dog comes charging up the aisle, hitting the arm of the 
person holding the Skin So Soft, spilling the fluid on the map. A boy 
scout happens along with a piece of Tyvek, absorbing the rank solution. 
Meantime, back on the K jet, "Contol Tower? This is "Titanium Two". We're 
 lost. Repeat: Lost"  "This is control. What is your destination?"  
"Felix? Is that you?"  "Affirmative"  "Can't we fly someplace without 
having a control tower with Felix in it?"  "Negative" So, back at the 
ranch, Hoss was loading a wagon with some chicken gizzards. 
-- 
Felix 

Now with FICTION!!! http://members.tripod.com/~Felixhikes/index.html

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