Untitled (391 hits)
Category: NoneRating: -0.16 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by John Kim (View user info) at 2008-09-29 18:14:47 EDT
When Marty first walked into the office he had a spring in his step long before he stopped at the coffee machine. Now, as he stirred the cream and sugar, into his mug he enjoyed the smell of the freshly brewed grounds. Marty had been living in pleasant and sunny Miami for over eight years now, but the smell of steaming hot coffee still evoked familiar feelings of soothing comfort from when he used it to help stave off the bitterly cold mornings of his native Alaska.
Marty looked around the back office which the company had converted into a sort of lunch room. It had a refrigerator, a microwave, a water cooler, a table and four chairs, and of course the coffee machine. The back office was deserted now. Most of the aircraft mechanics had already gone home and whoever was working the late shift was no doubt out at the hangar by now. Marty sipped at his cup of coffee to test it then headed into the front office.
His heart sank the slightest fraction when he saw that it was Liz, the boss' wife and co-owner of Miami Seaplane Tours, at the reception desk and not Lyuba the regular girl. It wasn't that Elizaveta wasn't hot. Liz, as she preferred to be called, had the classic Russian aristocratic princess look about her. She was very tall, with striking features, full lips, and an athletic body. But she was in her early forties, which was a little old for Marty's tastes. And besides, she was the boss' wife, and therefore a little too off limits.
Lyuba on the other hand was in her early twenties, young, and very available. She wasn't as tall as Liz, but she more than made up for it with her ample chest, tight fitting clothing, and most importantly a raw, sexual energy she seemed to exude. For months now Marty and Lyuba had been carrying on a playful flirty relationship. But Marty believed that if he played his cards right, he had a good chance of eventually getting Lyuba in the sack. So it was for this reason that he was slightly disappointed to see Liz at the front desk instead of sweet Lyuba. Bit Liz was still plenty easy on the eyes, and it wasn't as if she was unpleasant herself.
"So," said Marty, "what have you got for me today?" Liz smiled at him.
"Good morning Marty," she said, and handed him a clipboard with his worksheet on it. Marty set his coffee mug down on her desk and took the clipboard. "Long flight," she said, denoting a full eight hour tour. "Three passengers," she added. Her accent was obvious but not so thick that it was distracting. Marty read the names on the worksheet.
Travis Borcelli.
Geneviere Anderson.
Amy Harrison.
Marty noticed they all had different last names. So they probably weren't a family. Maybe they were a group of friends. Marty hoped at least one of the girls was cute.
"Who is still here?" he asked, referring to the aircraft mechanic that should still be outside. Liz finished filling out details on Grissom, the other pilot's worksheet, then looked up at Marty, trying to remember.
"Um, Oscar I think," she said. Marty nodded. He tucked the clipboard under his arm, picked up his cup of coffee, and walked out the front door toward the hangar.
Miami Seaplane Tours was a small family owned operation. Garrett Mason was the owner along with his wife Liz. Garrett was originally both the chief aircraft mechanic, pilot, and tour guide but as the operation grew he was able to hire a receptionist, a bookkeeper, two full time pilots one of which was Marty, and four aircraft mechanics. Nowadays Garrett only came into the office for a few hours a day. He only flew when one of the regular pilots was out, and you never saw him working on the planes at night with the rest of the propeller monkeys. Most of the time he was either doing marketing and advertising for the company, or he was on the golf course enjoying the perks of being a successful business owner.
The company had two planes. A small Cessna 206 five passenger plane which was Marty's plane and a larger Cessna 208 Caravan that could seat up to a dozen passengers. Grissom, the other pilot, flew the Caravan. There were four mechanics that worked a night shift together, getting both planes ready for flight the next day. The propeller monkeys took turns, with one of them staying late each day to meet with the pilots in the morning and let them know if anything was amiss.
Every day it was Marty's job to take a load of customers onto his plane and fly them over the keys. Sometimes he was booked for a short morning flight followed by an evening flight. Other times, like today, he was booked to do a longer tour that lasted all day. But even on a long tour he'd be flying and playing tour guide for only an hour or two before landing, letting the customers out to have a good time on one of the islands, and then bringing them back later. So half his day was spent vacationing on a tropical island and the other half was doing what he loved most, flying. On top of that he got to meet interesting people and usually had a lot of fun. It was the best job in the world, whether or not he enjoyed a cup of coffee or banter with Lyuba in the morning.
This particular morning he could see that the planes were already in the water and ready to go. The late mechanic was just finishing cleaning up the shop. He waved to Marty as he approached.
"Good evening Oscar," said Marty even though for himself and the rest of Miami it was morning.
"Good morning Marty," said Oscar. "How's my girl?"
"She's in good shape. All the fluids are topped off and she's got a full tank of gas. You're ready to go."
Marty chatted with Oscar for a bit. Eventually Grissom showed up and Marty walked out to the dock to look at his plane while the other two talked. It wasn't long before Liz was walking out to the hangar with a small group in tow. Marty knew it was his group; a man and two women. Marty set his mug down on one of the workbenches in the hangar, making a mental note to himself to bring it back into the office at the end of his shift so the lead propeller monkey didn't yell at him again. Marty put his dark aviator sunglasses on and tried to get into the character of a friendly tour guide. He quickly looked the two women over as they approached.
The shorter one was a brunette with a bob haircut and glasses. She had a plain but cute face and large expressive eyes. She was wearing baggy jeans and a hooded sweatshirt so it was a little hard to tell if she had a nice body but at least she wasn't monstrously fat.
The other girl was a blonde with shoulder length hair. She was wearing a white tank top that wasn't overly tight but definitely showed that she had a nice rack and a flat stomach. She was wearing khaki shorts and flip flops. As she got closer she smiled at Marty, and he smiled wide back at her.
The man with them had dark hair and eyes and walked with purpose. He was wearing shorts, sneakers, and a loose fitting Hawaiian style shirt. Marty noted from how far the man walked from the two women that he was probably not intimate with either of them.
So much for the better.
All three looked about the same age. They were probably all in their late twenties or early thirties. Each had a bag or backpack with them.
"This is your pilot and tour guide Marty Yellow Owl," said Elizaveta, gesturing toward him with her long painted finger nails. "Marty, this is Travis," the man, "Amy," the brunette," and "Jen," the blonde. Marty smiled, trying to appear gregarious.
Marty took each passenger's bag as he helped them onto the plane. Sitting in the water, the plane was more like a boat, shifting slightly under the weight of each new person as they boarded. Marty helped them buckle in, then handed them back their bags, explaining that they could stuff them under the seat in front of them if they wished. After the passengers were all secure he got into the pilot seat and turned on the in cabin microphone. He went over the safety protocol, interspersing his well practiced gregarious humor to make sure everyone stayed awake and was, in general having a good time.
In an hour they were over the water, flying at about five-hundred feet over the Keys. It was clear that either this group hadn't had their coffee, or they were going to be a quiet group. For the most part, they looked out their windows when Marty pointed out any sights worth interest like a sunken ship or a coral reef. But they had few questions of their own and didn't seem overly enthusiastic.
Marty guessed, from how little they looked or spoke to each other that they were all strangers. This was a little unusual. Typically people went on tours with friends or family, not alone. And it was even stranger to have three strangers all on one flight. Marty resolved to bring the group out of their shell. He tried to think of a fun game that would allow each person to talk about themselves and maybe have a little fun without the whole thing coming across as an elementary school exercise.
Suddenly, the plane lurched violently to the right. Marty grabbed the control with both hands and his eyes flicked back and forth between all of his instruments.
"What was that?" asked Jen, the blonde. Marty fought the controls. The plane kept trying to dip to its right side. It was almost as if the aileron wasn't responding to his control.
"Nothing," said Marty, his eyes going from the control stick to the attitude indicator and back again. He got the plane to stay level, but the control was very sluggish. "We just hit some turbulence," he lied, and was shocked to hear the tension in his own voice. He felt the plane trying to roll to the right again and struggled to keep the aircraft level.
Correctly reading his body language, Jen said "what's going on man?" Marty looked back, all eyes were on him. He decided to radio in but as he reached for the microphone the plane jerked hard to the right, harder than the first time. All three passengers and even he were thrown violently to the right side. All of the plane's electric gauges went dead and suddenly the cabin smelled strongly of something burning. Marty fought to bring the plane back to a level position. He heard some shouting and some screaming and was shocked to hear his own voice in the cacophony. He tried hard to straighten the plane out but then he heard a loud metallic twang, like a giant guitar string being pulled so hard that it snapped.
The Cessna rolled to the right, completely out of control and the front end of the plane dipped down toward the ocean.
Marty was screaming in absolute terror now and he could not stop.
User Reviews
Submitted by johnnybegood (user info) at 2008-10-01 14:57:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-09-30 01:38:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by sandmantate (user info) at 2008-09-29 21:39:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
======================
Sandman whined when I -2ed his GrUeberfest entry, and this was 10,000 times better. Fucking whiners.
Submitted by sandmantate (user info) at 2008-09-29 21:39:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
No Comment
Submitted by UnknownEntity (user info) at 2008-09-29 21:34:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Interesting, but an ending would of been nice.
Like they crashed in the ocean, Marty pulled all three of them from the wreckage and they washed up on an island dehydrated and hungry. Marty and Jen hit it off straight away and within 15 minutes of crashing they were making love under a palm treee while Amy and Travis built shelter and formed a society of which its sole population consisted of there shoes and underwear. Eventually the society broke down resulting in the sacrifice of Travis to the deme god Nike. Meanwhile Marty and Jen fought some beast on the island that turned out to be a parrot during the battle the parrot claimed Marty's life.
Jen went back to find the society that the others built and Amy eating the sacrificed body of Travis, they decided to make love and a hot lesbian scene followed, during there sex romp they realised that they were gay and decided to hold a commitment ceremony and the deme god Nike would be the minister. After there ceremony they went on a honeymoon to the other side of the island once there they found a populated keys Resort and told the people that there plane had crash and they have been stranded for over 4 hours.
Submitted by weather (user info) at 2008-09-29 18:20:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
The weather is important, John.
Submitted by RestrictionsApply (user info) at 2008-09-29 18:20:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
???