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 Weekly Challenge #128 - Airplane
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Tom
They gather about the bamboo frame representation of the sky god. They had been gathering since 1937. When the oxford anthropologist inquire to the deity’s name a older Micronesian told her they called the god Amelia. Some what rattled by the revelation she asked if the old woman had actually talked to the aviator. "Sure, want to meet her?" After climbing to the top of Myamypoa the anthropologist spied the Lockheed Electra 10E. There in the cockpit was Earhart speaking calmly into a radio set who’s battery had long been dead. Her battery however was good for another 1000 years.
Steven the Nuclear Man
College-ruled paper had never looked so violent before.
"Rat-a-tat-tat!" Sam maneuvered the folded remains of the notepad
into familiar twisting dogfights. "K-pow!" One, then two paper
planes went down in imaginary flames.
My old injuries ached, and I shifted against the smooth leather of my
chair. Who had told my grandson? Who had let him watch the video?
"Then," the boy narrated, "the bastards snuck up from behind and ...
boom!" The last plane - my plane - spiraled to the green carpet.
"That's how it happened, right grandpa?"
I rose, balanced on my prosthetic legs, and left the house in silence.
Brad Z
Yellow wands taxi the aircraft into place. A grateful Tomcat kneels in
gratitude and prepares for flight once again. Maintenance personal
scurry around the aircraft in a well choreographed dance that
completes the final check. Raw power illuminates the night as fire
erupts from the exhaust. Vibration rattles to your bones as full power
is reached. Personal signal everything is go. Salutes are given. The
catapult speeds down the deck with the aircraft in tow and the Tomcat
becomes airborne once again. Jet blast deflectors are lowered. The
dancers await their next partner as she taxis up to the catapult.
Wilma
What's a lovely like you doing at Sid's?
I love the romantic atmosphere scented with sweat and grease, a real ladies'
place. What's your story cowboy?
Name's Airplane. I ride with the Angels.
Why Airplane?
I have powerful legs. I propel myself off my bike and fly with my arms out
to the side, like an airplane.
Do you do that for shits and giggles?
Nah. For the biker bros. I fly over them I tap them on their third eye
giving them a vision they need to see.
And you roll with the Hell's Angels?
No, not those angels.
Laieanna
"Welcome to Angel Planes where we take you beyond the sky."
"Angel. You mean I'm…"
"How else would you come to the halfway point?"
"But mankind has planes."
"Thank the muses. Name?"
"I remember driving but…what was that?"
"Realization. Let's move on. Name?"
"Edward Nelson."
"Oh dear. I'm afraid you're not booked for a flight, sir."
"Why not? Are you saying I'm going down there?"
"Unfortunately. Just take that hall to your left and when you reach.."
"I'm flying to damnation?"
"Not at all. When you reach the end of the hall, take the helevator. It
goes straight to ground floor."
Anima
Uncle Louie is magical when he makes airplanes.
A crease here, a fold there, and then he blows a little fairy dust under the
wings to make them fly right.
He's so good, he even gives his planes windows.
"Why windows?" I asked
"So people can look out, silly."
A few puffs, and I have a fleet!
Evening settles in, I want something more.
"Do planes fly when they're on fire?"
"Hmmm...Let's walk down to the lake and find out…."
I light wings and launch the planes over the water.
"Ooooo! Look! you can see the people panicking inside!"
Mike
(text missing)
Planet Z
Back in WW2, I worked on decoys.
Inflatable tanks. Rubber soldiers. Balsawood airplanes.
One night, while manning the lights at a fake airfield, a colonel arrives on a motorcycle and yells for a plane.
The Red Baron is on the loose! He shouts.
Drunk as a skunk.
Before I can stop him, he's hopped in a decoy fighter and yelling for the
crew to arm him and taxi him to the runway.
My laughter stopped when the rubber men began to stir.
I didn't come out of the tower until after he landed, hoisted shoulders-high to the empty Officers Club.
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