I woke up wearing a very short blue skirt stapled poorly over my fire-proof pants. I wasn't sure exactly what sort of message Captain was trying to send me with this outfit until Pilot arrived, riding on Captain's back and making a
Captain was performing several roles in this masquerade: the plane, the plane's engine, the navigator, the mechanic and base commander all at the same time. Pilot was just Pilot. He also held a papier-mache aeroplane in his hand.
"STEWARDESS SNIPPEE!" Captain boomed. "YOU ARE REQUESTED ON FLIGHT DECK!"
"No. Too tired for your games," I slurred, and turned away, pretending to admire the desolate landscape before me. I definitely did not want to board Captain's back, as, firstly, there was barely any room up there and, secondly, Pilot would most likely defend his air-space to the death and shove me off at the first available moment.
"STEWARDESS SNIPPEEE! YOUR INSUBORDINATE LATENESS WILL BE NOTED IN THE FLIGHT JOURNAL!" Captain boomed even louder. "DO YOU WANT TO BE KNOWN AS THE MOST TARDY? DO YOU?"
"Maybe I do," I responded as calmly as possible.
"IT SEEMS THAT THIS HAS BECOME A RESCUE SITUATION!" Captain grumbled briefly and then pointed in my direction. "SENIOR FLIGHT OFFICER! CONTAIN THE STEWARDESS! SHE HAS THE JUNGLE FEVER AND DOES NOT WISH TO LEAVE ZHE PARADISE ISLAND!"
Pilot, not expecting this command, simply spun his head back and forth, trying to figure out who was playing the senior flight officer.
Captain sighed, "PILOT. CONTAIN THE INSUBORDINATE ONE," once again pointing in my direction, this time more sternly.
Having no desire to be "contained", I jumped sideways, sliding down a pile of rubble. Pilot tumbled down right after me, catching only my boot. We formed an uneven sphere of kicking appendages and old trash that rolled down the vast garbage canyon, accumulating more rubbish along the way. "MORE VIGOR!" shouted Captain from above, then the deafening, rumbling garbage avalanche overcame us and smothered my senses.