One of the engines sputters as the old plane crossed the vast, blue sea. The occupants, Grimm, Dirk, Tayden, and Priest, sat in the relic aircraft. The occasional jolt shook them. "This just doesn't make any sense," Grimm muttered out loud. "Just two days ago, we were flying on commercial flights. Today, we're in a box with wings."
"What's the matter? You scared?" Priest grinned. Grimm really wished that he could scowl.
"Kit said that he was having to cut corners to save money," Tayden chimed in, trying to get the conversation back on track. "Apparently, the rebuilding is costing more than we originally thought. Isn't that right, Dirk."
The group look over to where Dirk had sat. He was laying down on the bench seat with his hat covering his face. "Is he asleep?" Tayden asked.
The plane jolted again. "How can he sleep through this?"
"Because you're a bunch of boring fuckers," Dirk's muffled voice responded.
"We're almost there!" the pilot said while sticking his head through the curtain from the cockpit. He was an old man with a bald head and a cigarrette hanging from his lips.
"What!?" Grimm exclaimed. "We haven't had time to get to Pennsylvania yet. We're still over the ocean."
"Pennsylvania!" the pilot yelled back. "Nobody said nothin' about Pennsylvania. Ain't no way Bertha here can git ya to Pennsylvania. We'll be lucky to make it to the mainland."
"Then why did you take off in the first place if you knew we wouldn't make it to land?"
"Gotta give Bertha here a proper send off. It don't seem right to let her rot in some plane graveyard after serving her country like she did. Besides, even if we got to the coast, we couldn't land. Her landing gear ain't acted right since that run in with those Nazi bastards back in Dubbya-Dubbya Two."
