My space plane would have no leaks. The hull would be brand new, up to code, and spotless. Three robots would be attached to the exterior, polishing the hull at all times, humming admiration for its glory into the airless void.
My space plane would have no angry women. On my space plane, all the women would have at least minored in Advanced Engineering and would be able to rig the jets so we'd get there on time. They would have too many functions for them to all be crowded into the cockpit, second-guessing and decrying, "It's a lost cause."
My space plane has no shifty cooks who constantly talk about mutiny in Portuguese. If there was such a man on my space plane, he would not be in the cockpit. Why would such a cook be in the cockpit? He would be where he belongs: in the airshaft. On my space plane, the airshaft would be opening right now. A robot would pause, lift its polishing rag, and wave it as the former cook decompressed.
My space plane would not be under attack. Certainly it would not be outnumbered six-to-one. Its destination would not possibly already be overrun. Its destination would be a beach. A powder-white beach with no angry women screaming what a moron I am in my ear. If, for whatever reason, our visibility were reduced to zero when the viewing screens were shorted by the enemy arrays, the women would certainly not yell even louder in that same ear.
My space plane would positively never have its hull breached by enemy lasers. It would be enemy-laser-proofed. And if it somehow was breached, that single laser would not miss an entire room of annoying people and somehow hit me in the thigh.
When we arrived at our destination, my space plane would hover nine millimeters above the surf, at the request of the robots. The robots would know how stupid a space plane looks with sand on its butt. And as I disembarked, my all-female engineering corps would follow, stripping down to starfleet-approved bikinis, asking me what the old life was like. And I'd make something outlandish up. Something like this. Yes, on my space plane, this is all a dumb hypothetical that isn't happening.
I wish I was on my space plane.
Very cleverly done, the chaos and panic that is actually happening comes through very well
ReplyDeleteIs that why you are out of power?
ReplyDeleteAngry or otherwise, why are there so many women and only one Porteguese cook? I kept chuckling at this choice of characters. This was fun, even if the protagonist was under attack on so many fronts--on so many fronts.
(Third paragraph, third sentence I think is missing a "to".)
So clever! I bet a lot of people would prefer to be on his imaginary space plane!
ReplyDeleteI hope your power is sorted out soon, John.
I like your space plane, too. Need an engineer?
ReplyDeleteYes, that space plane certainly sounds much better than reality. Good one!
ReplyDeleteSandy butts are so annoying and unatrractive. See you at the beach!
ReplyDeleteLove you hinted at the real action by contrasting it to the dream. Very clever indeed.
ReplyDeleteI wish you were on your space plane, too. And not stuck at ome in a black out. I'm sorry, John! I hope your power comes back on soon! And when it does, I hope a crew a scantilly-clad female engineers from the elctric company show up to appologize with sexual favors.
ReplyDeleteSo perfectly humourous. I kept thinking about Harry Mudd from the original Star Trek, with his nagging wife clones.
ReplyDeleteHa. I like, I like. Great use of frustration. I have to say when I first started reading I thought It was a "MySpace" plane. :)That could send you on a totally different trip. Hmmm. Keep your butt out of the sand if you go.
ReplyDeleteDeborahB
John, this is probably the best I've heard your voice, (if that makes sense), it's so..You. Great job, and thanks for proving that a "real" writer can get 'er done, power or no, and I do hope you get that power back on soon!
ReplyDeleteSpace planes do look silly with sand on their butt. :) I'm glad the power is back on!
ReplyDeleteI chuckled at this one:
ReplyDelete"A robot would pause, lift its polishing rag, and wave it as the former cook decompressed."
Cold and insensitive, yeah, but funny. Just thinking about a million pieces of cook matter floating through space, destination unknown, and the little waving rag saying, "Bye-Bye," was a nice touch.
I hope the energy company restores the power soon.
Your space plane sounds marvelous! What guy wouldn't want to be on that space plane? I liked the humor and refereces to human life that everyone can relate to. Really fun ready!
ReplyDeleteLove the whole thing. I want to be on your space plane. I will bring imported beer and I bet I cook better than that Portuguese guy.
ReplyDeleteI call being Cabin Boy on this space plane. That or Master Sergeant Gunner.
ReplyDeleteAdam B @revhappiness
Can I have a ride?
ReplyDeleteWhat a unique an evocative voice you've captured here. It's full of laughs. The It would be enemy-laser-proofed. pushed me over the edge with his zany, while I'm wishing things weren't as bad as they are how I go for impossible tech ;)
ReplyDeleteThat is hilarious! My Dave is a science fiction/Star Wars/Stargate/Star Trek (anything with 'Star' in it except Dancing with the Stars). So we both laughed our arses off at all the funny things you pointed out that happen in space planes that are not yours.
ReplyDeleteI read Dave lots of stories, including mine, and he almost never laughs that loud!
Kudos to you, Mr. Wiswell!
John, if you ever find somewhere that sells these space planes, will you order two please? then bill me for one of them.
ReplyDeleteThe robots on the hull gave me images of Huey,Louie, and Dewey from that brilliant film from the seventies "Silent Running"
As space planes go, it sounds like paradise!
ReplyDeleteJohn, you appear to have experienced some of the not-space planes I work on. They are exactly like that. (Apart from the robots-no, wait, some of the crew are robots).
ReplyDeleteI hate sand on my rear quarters and for this reason, never go to the beach-unless it is pebbles.
Shotgun! I call shotgun. Or copilot. Or assistant cook. Anything to get a place on your space plane.
ReplyDeleteOops, sounds like he's toast. At least he can go out imagining life as it should be. Enjoyed it.
ReplyDelete~jon
Haha! Love how you tell the story through wishful thinking. I'm sure that the robots would be very happy on your space plane too. If robots are happy at all, that is.
ReplyDeleteVery creative! I'm reading this while at the beach, but I don't mind a little sand on my butt. However, I agree it shouldn't be on a space plane, though. I wish I had some of those robots to clean our van. :)
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this. Definitely one of your best. I love your take on sci fi.
ReplyDeleteThis is brilliant! Had me laughing out loud, more than once. =D
ReplyDeleteLoved this line particularly:
"And if it somehow was breached, that single laser would not miss an entire room of annoying people and somehow hit me in the thigh."
I'm not sure you need the penultimate sentence though, it makes the landing a little bumpy as you switch from wishful thinking to reality for the first time.
Now I'm gonna go read it again, and laugh at the cook. =D
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ReplyDeleteLinked this as 'recommended reading' from my most recent flash post. =)
ReplyDeleteMurder between the Stars
Could Pixar get away with a robot waving while the villain was decompressed?
ReplyDeleteI must go home and watch Wall-E now.