Fasten Your Seatbelts, We’re In For A Bumpy Flight! – The Golden Parachute Continues!

 

 

Here are Week 24 @Twitstery tweets of “The Golden Parachute” the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance

When he opens it, the message reads “RAISE THE PLANE!” He holds up a sign “Use Of Electronic Devices Prohibited During Takeoff and Landing.”

“RAISE THE PLANE–NOW!” He looks me over in disapproval and then shrugs. “OK. PULL IT IN.” I haul in the bag and we rise to the occasion.

The plane cruises on, so close to water I am soaked by sea spray. “CAN I OFFER YOU A REFRESHING BEVERAGE?” David asks. “I’M GOOD” I reply.

We travel for several minutes and then David asks “WHAT DOES ‘RAISE THE PLANE’ MEAN ANYWAY?” “YOU WERE FLYING TOO DAMN CLOSE TO THE WATER!”

“NEXT TIME WHAT YOU SAY IS ‘INCREASE ALTITUDE’ NOT ‘RAISE THE PLANE.’” “GOT IT. DON’T DO THAT AGAIN.” The raised plane noise is unrelenting.

The rest of the flight south passes in a deafening blur. We maintain our 100 foot altitude for the duration. David sips soda after soda.

After endless ocean hours, we approach a sandy beached island. A mountain rises over its interior. “MAN!” shouts David “I REALLY GOTTA PEE.”

“CAN IT ‘TIL WE LAND?” “NO NEED. HOLD THIS.” “ABSOLUTELY NOT.” “NO. I MEAN THE YOKE.” “THE WHAT?” “THE STEERING WHEEL.” “WHILE YOU DO WHAT?”

“HOW ABOUT, DUMP SOME BALLAST?” “THERE’S NO TOILET ON THIS PLANE. HOW DO YOU INTEND TO…OH I GET IT.” “NO WORRIES. I DO THIS ALL THE TIME.”

“NOT ON MY WATCH!” “NOT ON YOUR WATCH, OUT THE WINDOW!” “NOT OUT MY WINDOW!” “IT’S OUT MY WINDOW!” As we struggle, the island looms closer.

I place a hand on David’s shoulder to keep him seated. He releases the yoke and the plane plunges. Suddenly the isle’s mountain is upon us.

Letting out an amazingly high squeak for a man his size, David grabs the yoke and pulls back hard. We climb vertically up the mountainside.

David is shouting something at me, but I can’t make it out over the engine noise. “FASTEN YOUR SEATBELT” I suddenly hear him scream. Uh oh.

Our plane stalls and the relative quiet is alarming. “Can you hear me now?” David asks. “AAAAHH!” I’m not sure which one of us is screaming.

“BOTH F@#KING ENGINES AT THE SAME TIME?” I inquire. “No need to shout.” he replies. The steep climb levels off to a plateau landing field.

With a bump David lands the plane, pulling up beside a small hanger. The props start up again. “Well, I don’t need to pee anymore.” he says

I extricate myself from the copilot seat. “This is the airport? How in the world do they transport 1000+ students to the island each term?

The air taxi sits upon a narrow plateau surrounded by higher peaks. A small hanger beside the grass landing strip is the only structure.

“I’m only allowed to use this old airstrip. The main airport is down below next to campus.” David looks at his pants. “Excuse me a minute.”

He enters the hanger and returns in a few minutes in a cabbie’s uniform. “How’re the ears?” he asks. “I can hear, if that’s what you mean.”

David places blocks against the wheels. “Noisy flight huh? Why you didn’t put on your ‘phones?” “Headphones?” “Yeah, the ones at your seat.”

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Skulduggery! – The Golden Parachute Continues!

Here are Week 23 @Twitstery tweets of “The Golden Parachute” the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance“

Let’s do this” I say. “Sign here.” He holds up a contract. “What’s this?” “A covenant for our flight time releasing me from all liability.”

“You want me to sign a pre-flight pre-nup?” “Don’t get excited. It’s standard operating procedure. This outing is strictly professional.”

A teen when I first rode a monster rollercoaster, I expected the heart-stopping plummets but not gut wrenching rolls and upside-down twists.

When finally the car pulled to a stop, I breathed a sigh of relief. The terror was over! Then we started up for a second run…backwards!

I don’t know what was worse: Ignorance of what was coming on that first pass, or the anticipation as I experienced the second time through.

After that experience, how bad could an air taxi ride be? Time to find out. I sign the pre-nup and we board the plane. David dons earphones.

The plane engines start up, props spin and the noise is spectacular. “Do I need earphones too?” I ask. “What?” “DO I NEED EARPHONES TOO?”

David says “Cjgafad adf zoedfa adfwe.” “WHAT?” “I CAN’T HEAR YOU. I’VE GOT HEADPHONES ON.” As we taxi toward the runway the noise increases.

I shout “IS IT GOING TO BE THIS LOUD THE WHOLE FLIGHT?” David signals “I can’t hear you.” I hold up my cell phone so he can see my tweet.

He shouts “WHEN YOU USE CAPS LIKE THAT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE SHOUTING.” I shout “I AM SHOUTING!” He shouts “WELL, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHOUT!”

At least I think that’s what he says. I still can’t hear him over the engine roar so I try ASL signing “I THINK I DO!” and he slaps my face.

At least I think that’s what I signed. The noise can’t get any louder. He shouts “FASTEN YOUR SEATBELT. IT’S GOING TO BE A BUMPY FLIGHT.”

At least I think that’s what he shouts. Bumpy flight? What’s that all about? As the plane lifts off the noise rises to the point of pain.

We leave Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport and head out over the ocean. I look around the tiny cabin, wondering where the bathroom is.

David holds up a sign. “Please Remain Seated With Your Seatbelt Fastened Until We Reach Our Cruising Altitude” “OK. WE MADE IT.” he shouts.

We’re flying 100 feet over the ocean. “WE MADE THE ISLAND ALREADY?” “NO CRUISING ALTITUDE. HOLD ON!” We veer right to avoid a cruise ship.

“HOLD THIS” he says. I take hold of a rope end, the plane dips down to the water surface and David throws a netbag of cans out the window.

The bag hits the water, dragging along behind the plane. The other end of my rope is attached to the bag. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I scream.

“I’M CHILLING OUR DRINKS” he replies. “ARE YOU CRAZY? RAISE THE PLANE!” He holds up a sign reading “There is Only One Pilot On This Flight.”

Clearly he has experienced similar objections before. I take out my cell phone, quickly type in a message and press SEND. His phone chimes.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

“Man of Steel” Isn’t the Only Thing Taking Off! – The Golden Parachute Continues!

Here are Week 22 @Twitstery tweets of “The Golden Parachute” the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance

He’s short and wide and the only thing aviator about him are his army surplus flight goggles and his air of condescension. “You’re a pilot?”

“No, I’m Superman. Do you like my new secret identity? Here’s my card.” I take the card wondering how long it would take to charter a boat.

The card reads “David’s Air Taxi Service and Storm Door Co.” On back is a photo of his plane, a winged yellow taxi:

Studying the image of his blue and yellow twin prop with an apparent nose baggage compartment, I see right through his obvious obfuscation.

“If you really are Superman, why the airplane?” “With a plane like that, you’d better know how to fly.” “Can it make it where we’re going?”

“I fly from here to Grenada all the time. We just have to glide a little farther.” “You fly to Spain?” “That’s Granada. I meant Grenada.”

“You say Grenada, I say Granada. Let’s call the whole thing off.” “OK but it’s your funeral. You’ll never get a flight out of this airline.”

“I’m stuck in here? Why is that?” “Fiat pilots are afraid to fly to your island.” “They just flew their only plane out of here.” “Exactly.”

“Why are Fiat pilots afraid to fly there?” “The airfield sucks for a big plane. It’s just a windy plateau surrounded by mountain peaks.”

“I fear nothing.” “Wait ’til you fly with me. If you don’t believe in a higher power now, you will.” “How high?” “Oh, about 100 feet high.”

“How about I fly you down to Grenada instead? I’m sure you can find something almost as good there.” “Do they have a major medical school?”

“How the hell would I know? They do have a much better airport. I’m sure they have something.” “I’m looking for a medical school student.”

“Aren’t we all? Maybe a Grenada medical school is good enough for you.” “Not likely. Any similarity between schools is purely coincidental.”

“We got a deal?” I consider my options. Remain suitless in Puerto Rico and return home emptyhanded, or I can fly the air taxi. “How much?”

“Strictly on the meter. You coming back?”I thought about it. This shouldn’t take long and it’s on the doppelGränger’s dime.”Of course.”

“Wait time will also be on the meter. Any bags?” “I have no baggage.” “How nice for you, but we’ll need something for ballast in the nose.”

“Hmm. Before I decide, I’d like to see your plane.” “Follow me.” We leave the terminal and walk in the Puerto Rican heat past the airfield.

David’s plane rests in a special spot at the end of the parking lot. It looks a lot worse for wear in person. “Can I see that photo again?”

He holds up the shot of his plane. “The light here is bad.” “Yes, there is light.” “It flies better than it looks.”

“You can get this thing off the ground?” “When the wind is right. You don’t have a suitcase so I need to put a bag of sand in the nose.”

“What happens if you don’t ballast the front?” “The nose rides up and I have trouble seeing.” A boat charter is looking better and better.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Fear of Not Flying – The Golden Parachute Continues!

Here are Week 21 @Twitstery tweets of “The Golden Parachute” the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance

Grabbing a toothbrush app I head for the airport. Protocols require I yield virtual weapons prior to boarding. I’m forced to check my phone.

I already feel naked without my phone virtual gun app, so I don’t mind the TSA x-ray and strip search. However, I do miss my toothbrush app.

Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport, Puerto Rico. Construction everywhere. My FIAT connecting flight is at the other end of the terminal.

The flight leaves in 45 minutes. Sprinting, I can make it from one end of LMMI to the other in 3.5 minutes, but construction slows me down.

I didn’t have any luggage. I figured they’d just lose it anyway. Even so, I reach the FIAT Air counter five minutes after my flight left.

A large crowd is still in line for this last connection. Maybe the flight is delayed! I run up to the counter. “Can I still get on?” I ask.

The FIAT attendant looks at me. “There is no flight.” she says. “No. Here’s my ticket. I want to get on that flight.” “There is no flight.”

“You mean the flight has left?” “No. There is no flight.” I look at the crowd behind me. “You mean all these people are here for nothing?”

“They are from the last flight, also cancelled. They’re waiting to see when we decide to fly.” “You don’t have regularly scheduled flights?”

“Our pilots don’t want to fly today.” “Huh?” “You heard me.” “I need to be in the southern Caribbean ASAP.” “You’d better get started then.”

“OK. When’s the next flight?” “Can’t say.” “Is this how you run your airline?” “We’re Fiat Air. We Decide When You Fly and When You Don’t.”

Due to the construction, the Fiat Airlines counter is outside the terminal and not air conditioned. I begin to feel the Puerto Rico heat.

I hold up the badge on my cell phone. “I’m a detective. A life is at stake. I’m commandeering your plane.” “I told you. There is no plane.”

“You said there is no flight. You didn’t say there is no plane.” “There is no plane thus there is no flight. The pilots took it with them.”

“I assume they flew the plane out of here.” “I really couldn’t say.” “So there was a flight, but it’s already flown.” “I really don’t know.”

“Any other airlines fly to the island?” “Mid school year?” “No, I’ll wait until fall.” “Not likely.” “Thanks for nothing.” “Glad to help.”

I’m stuck in a PR flightmare. Nearby, scores of stoic travelers cope with edgy progeny or gaze outside where shimmering palms are at hand.

I’m here for the duration and I don’t like to wait. A hard truth crashes over me like a wave against the shore. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.

My cellphone has a swimsuit app, but I didn’t bring a harness thong or a waterproof case. Any swimming I do will be completely unsuited.

As I stand lost in thought a round little man wearing aviator goggles approaches. “Where ya headed?” he asks. I tell him my destination.

“I can fly you there.” he says. I look him over. Imagine a fighter pilot as portrayed in a movie like “Top Gun.” Then imagine the opposite.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

I Do Not Have A Gentle Heart – The Golden Parachute Continues!

Here are Week 20 @Twitstery tweets of “The Golden Parachute” the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance

No reply from inside the Zipcar. I haven’t many items of clothing left to remove. Then the driver’s window glides down. “Hey! You Arkaby?”

I tense every muscle. “I’m DETECTIVE Arkaby. Sup?” An envelope flies out of the car and hits me in the forehead. “Consider yourself served.”

A Zipcar process server? I’m not ready for that. The Zipcar drives off and I’m left holding the envelope. I wonder who could be suing me.

It might be what I thought was the Rough in the Diamond gang who “stole” the pedestal for the Hopewell Diamond but left the diamond behind.

It turned out they were pedestal repairmen, not thieves and would remount the diamond upon its return. I guess I shouldn’t have used my gun.

Bullet holes are not considered of curatorial value. And I discovered too late the Wall in the Hole “perp” got stuck exiting his own house.

The “missing juvenile” I recovered was actually a full-grown little person doing his “Furrie” thing. That was good for two EEOC lawsuits.

The French government filed a formal protest over my arrest of one of their WW I pilots after accusing him of alien flower child abduction.

Next time I’ll look with my eyes rather than my heart. Or It might be recently early paroled Waldo, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Which juvenile lit delinquent, tween, rodent, monster or freak is behind this harasssing lawsuit? I sit down at my desk to open the summons.

Blah blah blah, you are hereby…blah blah… balance of payment…30 days…$40,000 outstanding balance. This is a complaint from my hospital stay!

While investigating Granger’s murder, I auto-multitasked. I was on cell phone, recorder and laptop. I held a paper pad and pen in my mouth.

I went a driving distraction too far and entered a mental multitasking fugue. My mind left my body and I attempted parallel universe parking

That’s where you try to parallel park in two universes at the same time. I awoke in Willum Granger’s cloning lab, “Body Parts R Us”.

This is wrong. Though I dodged BP R U’s attempts to clone my face and still sustained a $40,000 hospital bill, I’ve paid off $10K already.

It’s time to strike back. There’s an error in BP R U’s collection agency summons. I’ve determined my doppelGränger isn’t undead or a clone.

Something is rotten in the state of Regi Granger’s medical school. “A Dream of Spring”, Book 7 of Game of Thrones, won’t be out ’til 2019.

I have thirty days to respond to this summons. I’ll fly to the Caribbean, rescue Regi and then pay off my debt with the doppelGränger’s fee.

This means George R. R. Martin will have to finish Game of Thrones on his own, but my path is clear. I book the next flight to Puerto Rico.

Regi’s school resides on a tiny Caribbean island, as far south as you can fly before hitting South America, accessible only via Puerto Rico.

According to my travel app, the only regularly scheduled airline, Fiat Air, flies twice a week from Puerto Rico to my ultimate destination.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)