Say you're sitting down by the water just kind of sunning yourself, just kind of drinking in the earth and sky and existence, conserving energy, floating down the Slackstream; and your eyes move to follow the path of a 747 passenger jet across the sky -- but as you watch, flames burst out of the plane's engines and smoke stains the sky and the plane falls into a screaming dive, and it's heading straight for the water a hundred metres out in front of where you're lounging -- my god the sea will be coated with blazing aviation fuel and exploded luggage and horrendous shattered corpses and twisted chunks of fuselage! But at the last possible minute the plane pulls out of its dive and levels out, coasting only ten meters above the surface of the water . . . and then the back doors on either side of the plane blow out and those big yellow emergency-exit slides inflate and touch the water, and then about twenty beautiful air hostesses slide down the exits on both sides, and they're all holding onto ropes and wearing waterskis, and they proceed to carry out the most incredible team-waterskiing performance you have ever seen, complete with daring and spectacular acrobatics, as they're pulled along by the plane, the engines of which are still flaming and smoking dramatically, and all the while the air-hostess stunt- waterskiiers are smiling their perfect immaculately-white-teeth smiles; and then at the end of their performance they form a human pyramid about five levels high, and on top of the head of the air-hostess at the top of the pyramid, they've balanced a long table which is all decked out with candelabras and crystal glasses and wine and silver trays of pork and roast beef and plates of salad and all kinds of delicacies, and sitting at the table are about ten couples, all dressed in elegant tuxedos and exquisite evening gowns and they're all eating and talking casually and joking amongst themselves and sipping their wine as if nothing unusual is going on, as they balance at the top of the human pyramid of stunt-waterskiing air-hostesses who are trailing behind the flaming 747. And standing on the table, right in the middle, is you -- which is weird because you thought you were watching all this from the shore - and you're holding a chainsaw like it's a guitar and enthusiastically trying to play it. And then suddenly the 747 just flies straight upwards, like vertically, and all the air-hostess waterskiiers and people in formal attire hold on to their ropes as the plane continues to fly upwards, but soon they start to let go, one at a time, and they each plummet to the water one by one, but halfway through their fall they each explode in a huge dramatic fireball which shoots off chunks of flaming shrapnel, some pieces of which land near you on the shore. Meanwhile the 747 is still climbing, flying vertically upwards until it's just a pinpoint in the sky and then you can't see it at all, but at that moment it too explodes in a beautiful fireworks display, and the fireworks spell out in vast upper-case letters:


Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.