I don't remember why I was on the plane, and I don't remember what happened to the pilot. They came and got me and told me it was up to me. But by the time we reached the cockpit it was too late. We were wavering wildly up and down, just above the surface of the ocean. I grabbed the stick and hauled up. No use. Splashdown. But the spray cleared and still we sat there. I forgot planes can float. Of course they can.
It wasn't an ocean, really, it was a flooded city. The controls were sluggish but they still responded. I glided around for a while. Outside, through the clear double windows, dark blue below light blue. Endless. I looked behind me. The jumbo jet was at least twelve rows wide, packed. Most of the Sealab 2021 crew was there, but they were real people, not cartoons. They fed me snide non sequiturs and told me I'd need to find an island long enough to use as a runway. They were all counting on me.
A spaceship came down and tried to talk to us. It was made of blinking, circulating yellow lights, like every surface was a theater marquee, and what was inside was jet black. A message flashed across the front in a language of numbers I hadn't learned. So I couldn't convince the others - This is who we should follow. He wants to help us. This is the way out. The lights shifted and the shape contorted: hamburger, top, cube, gone. It never came close enough. I steered us aimlessly again.
I found a scaffolding tunnel too narrow to squeeze through, but I panicked and thought We don't need these stupid wings anyway. I had just gotten the nose inside when I saw three giant robots running at me. They were white with red and blue piping, like Skyfire, all of a different design, the good guys, probably. I backed up quick and the one in front made it to the open waters. He transformed into a tank and fired blazing disks at me. We took damage and got away, smoking.
Still no islands in sight large enough. But before long a yellow ship landed and pulled up right next to us. The pilot climbed out - tall, black, shades, massive afro and massive grin. He began to work on the engine at the back of the fuselage. The people cheered and went out on the burning wings to dance.
The stencil by the hatch read Jason Cool-Cool, but I knew who was really behind those initials. He was here to save us, just like before. My vision craned up out of my own head to show me the whole spectacle, happy ending and all.