Forget Lucky! Forget the girls! Forget my bladder! Forget Dumbledore behind me with his knee!
As I had gotten up from my seat, going to the head, I happen to glance out the window. What I saw made me freeze! I moved my face closer to the round little window.
Something was on the wing!
It was near the engine and looked like a cross between Alf and Rush Limbaugh. Crouching and moving I could see it had a good grip on the wing and flossed teeth. I quickly returned to my seat and stared out the window, bringing my face closer to the glass to get a better look. It was still there and it seemed to have an interest in the engine. I could see as it pulled out a Sharpee and started scribbling around the engine cowling. Just as I was hoping that the glass was thick enough to keep it from me, it turned, looked straight at me and smiled.
I quickly shut the window door and started to sweat. What the h*ll was that? How was it staying on the wing? Did OJ really do it? Seeing one of the stewardesses nearby, I motioned her over. She and her smile floated over and in a squeaky voice asked, "Can I help you, sir?"
"There's something on the wing." I said.
"Yes, its called an engine. Its there all the time and theres another on the other side." she repiled.
"No, no, no! Some sort of creature."
"Maybe we hit a bird. They can be rather messy and you really can't eat them afterwards. May I bring you a lager?"
"You're not listening, " I said, as I could feel the panic rising in my throat. At least I hoped it was panic.
"There is some sort of alien creature, hoping around on the wing of the plane. Its not falling off." I sputtered.
"Oh," she said, "well that is different. Lets take a look." and she lifted the window door to look at the wing.
It was gone.
"I don't see anything, sir." she said and I could tell by the tone of her voice that in her mind I was the only genius with an IQ of 60.
"It was right there!", I said, "Look at the grafitti!!" I pointed to the engine.
"That could be instructions for the maintenance crew. They're always losing their manuals, you know." she said and started to straighten up from the window.
"Its not instructions, you idiot!" I said, my voice rising, "It was writing something on the engine! There is something on the wing and we need to land...now!!"
She leaned down close to me. "If you don't stop shouting, I'll have to call security and we don't want that to happen, do we?" she said.
I was speechless for once. Closing the window door, she continued.
"Now, I'll bring you a nice, warm lager and a happy pill and everything will be better. And we'll check the plane out when we land. Ok?"
I ignored her, staring straight at the back of the seat in front of me. As she turned to go, I could hear Orson Welles behind me whisper to her.
"Is there anything I can help with, miss? I'm a Forum Thread Detective and I can help if this thread gets out of control." he said.
"No, no, the passenger in front of you thought he saw something on the wing. But its ok now." she replied.
I smiled. Like Butterball could quickly get out of that seat without the aid of a whole jar of vaseline. I had no threat from him. But out the window was another matter. Did I really see something? Do I need glasses? Did I pay my electric bill last month? These thoughts ran through my head as I reached for the window door. Gripping the handle with my sweaty hand I yanked the door up and looked out the window.