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Shutdowns Ain’t Stoppin’ Us!

And we’re back after a bit of a hiatus!

Dallas, Texas

The Jerk Airways HQ

The hero of the airline industry, or the villain, depending on your perspective, James “Jimmy” Edwards stared out the window of the main conference room of Jerk Airways HQ in Dallas, Texas. The days of the Thug Wars were behind them, but with the architect of the Thug Wars and Thug Airways, Johnny Capone, still at large, Jimmy Edwards was rarely relaxed. Regardless, there was money to be made and customers to be herded, so Jimmy sighed and turned around to face the assembled executives.

Jimmy folded his hands.

“Alrighty everyone, so what’ve we got?” he asked.

“Well, things are going to get really interesting….” hesitated the CFO.

Jimmy eyed her curiously. The CFO continued to hesitate.

“What the fuck could be so weird that we haven’t seen already? We’re a company that charges 5 dollars for airfare by basically breaking every rule known to airlines along with some rules of humanity! We’ve had Kim fucking Jong-Un on our flights and as a sponsor! We got sued and won that suit against an angry customer! We literally redefined corporate warfare when Johnny Capone started Thug Airways! Come on man, what could be more fucked up than all that that’s keeping you so quite?” drawled Jimmy.

The CFO breathed in deeply and said:

“Well Jimmy, it’s not another airline or a customer, cause we don’t give a shit about any of that these days. This is about the government shutdown…”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow.

“Another one? I thought that was solved with that whole national emergency thing.”

“Well this time Trump wants a second wife” replied the CFO.

“Like he wants to remarry? Who’s stopping him from that!?”

“No Jimmy, he literally wants a second wife, like at the same time.”

“Ain’t that illegal in the US?”

“Exactly.”

Jimmy frowned and scratched his head.

“The fuck? The government is shutdown over that? What the actual fuck is going on here?”

The CFO shook her head derisively.

“God I miss the days when the latest controversy was what Trump said, not what he did”

“I miss the days when the controversies were Obama’s style of salutes!” moaned Johnny Bravo.

Before anyone could snap back, Jimmy responded

“Alright alright let’s not get too political. So what’s the problem?” asked Jimmy.

“The latest shutdown could mean that the airports will shutdown, or be in chaos at least.” replied the CFO.

Jimmy gave a big, toothy and wolfish grin.

“We got the world’s finest and best pilots with the best service staff onboard. Shutdowns ain’t stoppin’ us!”

About 100 miles west of La Guardia airport onboard a Jerk Airways flight from Los Angeles.

“Hey buddy, you think you could join me up front?”

Johnny Bravo was asking the infamous (or famous, depending on your perspective) cowboy of Jerk Airways for assistance. That worried the cowboy a little. The flight had been fairly standard so far. The usual cattle prods and whips to heard hapless and depressed passengers into the seatless aircraft, luggage and all in one spot. Some people complained to the cowboy at LAX, but a good, roundhouse kick sent them skittering into the cabin on their way. People were so ungrateful, in the cowboy’s opinion. A $5 flight was unthinkable on United, and yet they bitched and moaned still. Most passengers had realized that they were nothing more than cargo, and had given up by and large. There were some broken bones like always, especially with Johnny Bravo’s stunt flying antics, but the cowboy was prepared with magnetic shoes. The cowboy walked to the pilot’s cabin, somewhat worried, but then remembering that the flight was currently upside down, so clearly Johnny wasn’t feeling too worried, so why should the cowboy worry?

The cowboy opened the pilot’s cabin door and walked in.

“What’s up Johnny?” asked the cowboy with his ridiculously thick Texan drawl.

“Uhm, it’s our air traffic controller” replied Johnny Bravo.

“What about him?” drawled the cowboy.

“You best talk to him” said Johnny Bravo.

The cowboy frowned and picked up the headset.

“La Guardia traffic control, this is Jerk-42, how copy? Over.”

There was nothing but static. The cowboy tried again.

“La Guardia traffic control, this is Jerk-42, did not copy your last. Repeat, how copy? Over.”

Still no response. The cowboy turned to Johnny Bravo.

“So there ain’t nobody there?” asked the cowboy.

“Uhh, not exactly…” trailed Johnny as the radio sprang to life.

“Fuck, who was that now? Jerk-72 or something like that? Or was that Thug-134? Or was it United? Ah, the fuck does it matter. I copy you, please standby, over.”

The cowboy stared at Johnny. Johnny shrugged. The cowboy frowned and scratched his head.

“Uh, yes, repeat, just standby, dude with Texan drawl, uh, HEY! DUDE! NOT COOL! Sorry Texan dude, not talking to you, just, just wait a minute bro, over”

The cowboy was taken aback.

“The fuck is going on in there?” said the cowboy.

“One of my buddies in the FAA said that Trump hired the same guys who are air stewards on United flights to drag people to work without pay at the air traffic control towers.” said Johnny.

“You mean them WWE wrestlers who kick people out at random for overbooking?”

“The very same” said Johnny.

“God I hope they ain’t got them ex-KGB PR officers there too” drawled the cowboy.

Suddenly the radio sparked to life again.

“SILENCE! Or we put uranium in your mom’s tea, da tovarisch?” a voice rang out clear.

The cowboy stared stony faced at Johnny, who simply stared back with an expression of disbelief.

“I think that answers that question…” whispered Johnny.

“Ain’t this shit illegal or something?” said the cowboy.

“Maybe Trump declared another emergency?” replied Johnny.

The cowboy shook his head and tried to contact the tower again.

“Air traffic control, what’s going on over there? We can’t hold forever. We need a place to land man”

The radio was silent again for a bit. Then he heard.

“HEY! DUDE! I DON’T CARE! NO YOU CAN RELEASE MY SEXY PICS ON THE INTERNET! I DON’T FUCKING CARE! I DON’T “

The cowboy stared wide eyed at the radio.

“Ok…” said Johnny.

The cowboy picked up the radio again.

“Air traffic control, you mind if we do the fighting later and the landing now, over?”

Silence once more. Then a loud WHOMP rang through the radio, followed by wailing, followed by another voice.

“This Boris Grishenko, Trump hire me, da? I take care of traffic control tower. You stay where you are, da? Or we put uranium in your mother’s tea too, da?”

The cowboy turned to look quizzically at Johnny, then replied.

“That’s awfully rude of you Boris, my ma’s allergic to uranium, she likes her tea strictly with petroleum sir, nothing more.” drawled the cowboy. “You do sound like one ugly fella, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“I no care what you think of my look. I fuck you regardless if you fuck with me, da?”

Ohhh feisty motherfucker here! I like me a good fight! thought the cowboy.

“So what the fuck do you expect us to do, keep flying in circles till we run out of fuel and crash?” said the cowboy.

“Eh, comrade, no need for sarcasm. You wait and all will be fine. Da?”

Suddenly another voice rang out.

“YOU CAN’T JUST TELL THEM TO HANG THERE YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!”

“Silence him, Skullcrusher”

FHWOOMP.

“No worry, da? Just delay flight.”

The cowboy sighed.

“Look, it’s clear y’all are having a mighty fine kinky bonding time down there, whatever the hell it is y’all are doing, but we can’t wait for that to finish. We got passengers who paid 5 dollars expecting to get to their place on time. So we are gonna need to land and land soon, alright buddy?”

“Look comrade, just hang and chill, da? It shutdown, everything slow, so no worry.”

The cowboy and Johnny Bravo looked at one another again.

“What do you think Johnny” queried the cowboy.

Johnny stroked his chin.

“Welllll, didn’t Jimmy say something about not letting the shutdown stop us?”

The cowboy turned and stared out the cockpit window at the clouds. He could see many other aircraft holding around La Guardia. How would they do this? They might not give a shit about how customers got to their destination, but they still needed to arrive relatively intact (e.g., alive) in order for them to reach their destination. Of course, relative is a relative term. Intact for a customer may mean no broken bones, but for Jerk Airways, it meant no fatal injuries. But that didn’t stop Jerk Airways from somehow maneuvering through air traffic to land somehow, now did it?

The cowboy turned to look at Johnny.

“Johnny, you think you could get us down on a runway?”

“Which one?”

“Any runway Johnny. Any fucking runway.”

Johnny suddenly understood what the cowboy was planning and grinned wolfishly.

“Sure can do sir!” 

The cowboy switched the radio back on.

“No can do boy. We sure as fuck ain’t waiting here.”

“Eh Comrade, your President Trump order you to do this as patriotic duty, da?” replied Boris.

“Look here not cute sounding KGB dude, even if fucking Jesus, Allah, Vishnu, Buddha, and Moses all rolled into one told me to stop, I ain’t stopping, cause our customers are fucking getting where they paid to get, so help me God. Maybe not in one piece, but they gettin’ there in some amount of pieces. So you best get ready son, cause if you ain’t givin’ us a place to land, we gonna make  a space to land, even if it’s using yo ugly ass as a goddamned runway.”

The cowboy motioned to Johnny Bravo to get ready. Johnny nodded and picked up his headset and pressed intercom on his control panel.

“Hey folks, this is your pilot speaking. I realize that there isn’t really any way to strap in on a Jerk Airways flight, but just be mentally and physically prepared for landing, cause we are about to literally make our own landing space. So try and enjoy, and think of it this way: whatever happens, you’ll have a cool story to tell once you get off.”

“Will we get psychological counseling after whatever it is you’re doing!?” yelled someone from the main cabin.

“You’ll be in NYC on time, so you’ll have plenty of time to get yourself a therapist, in whatever amount of pieces you are in” replied Johnny.

Johnny clicked off his headset. The cowboy winked at him as he thought Johnny’s a natural for this!

“Hey comrade! You best watch what you do, da? What you do is illegal. Trump gonna fuck you up”

The cowboy grinned.

“That ain’t stopped us before boy! YO Johnny! Kick it!”

Johnny flipped the flight into high gear mode, a button he forced to install on his cockpit control even though no aircraft known to man has any gearbox whatsoever. The Jerk Airways 787 S Model (it was a special engineered aircraft for Jerk Airways) surged forward as its specially engineered JerkPower engines powered up. The hapless passengers in the main cabin were literally thrown backwards, luggage and all, as the aircraft literally rocketed forward. One passenger found himself wedged between a bag and another passenger.

The cowboy, also pressed firmly into his seat that he just barely managed to get into, turned to Johnny Bravo and asked

“Uh Johnny, this here 787 can survive the speed you’re puttin’ it into, right?”

Johnny replied unsteadily.

“Not like we’ve ever really tested this before man…”

The cowboy shuddered visibly. Then he suddenly said

“Ah well, this is as good as any way to die I suppose. Kinda wish I managed to get some numbers from the cute passengers onboard. Woulda been nice dyin’ knowin’ that someone loves me…”

The radio crackled to life again.

“HOLY FUCK DUDE! THAT FLIGHT IS GOING WAY TO FAST! DUDE! LET ME THE FUCK GO!”

Another crack echoed over the radio. Then Boris called out again.

“Look Jerk comrade, what you do not good. You land and we fuck you over, da?”

The cowboy smiled.

“You ain’t cute enough Boris” drawled the cowboy.

Johnny turned and said.

“I don’t think he cares if he’s cute or not man, he’s gonna kill us one way or another!”

“Now now Johnny, he said fuck us over. That ain’t the same thing. That implies something very different.”

Suddenly a Lufthansa flight appeared scarily close to them directly in front.

“WHOAAAA FUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!” yelled Johnny Bravo.

Johnny dipped the Jerk Airways flight right under the Lufthansa flight and roared past it. The passengers in the back suddenly were in zero g for a moment before they slammed back onto the floor.

“YEEE HAWWW” roared the overtly enthusiastic cowboy. “LET’S ADD SOME MUSIC TO THIS!!” 

The cowboy then flipped a switch on the cockpit titled SOUNDTRACK. The speaker started playing something:

“NOW THIS IS MORE LIKE IT!!!!” roared the cowboy.

Johnny suddenly was reliving his stunt driver days and realized that this really was amazing as he roared

“WHOOOO HOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

The Jerk Airways flight roared through the skies, losing altitude all along the way. Suddenly, an American and United airlines jet appeared. Johnny roared with glee and put the jet into a spin. The helpless passengers spun around with their luggage in the main cabin like in a mixing machine. Yet somehow, it seemed some of the passengers were managing to bond with one another in this madness.

Johnny Bravo maneuvered the jet between the two aircraft while scorching the United Airlines aircraft with the exhaust from the JerkPower engines. 

Suddenly La Guardia materialized in front of the aircraft. But the cowboy immediately noticed a problem.

“Hoo boy, that is one fucking crowded airport” chortled the cowboy between quick breaths.

Crowded was an understatement. Aircraft were literally bumper to bumper like cars on the crowded streets of NYC.

“Seems like they’re imitatin’ the city” said the cowboy

The radio crackled to life again.

“Look comrade, no space to land here, da? Why you wanna be fucked? You no survive, you fucked. You survive, we fuck you, da?” 

The cowboy grinned.

“My favorite pastime KGB boy! HIT IT JOHNNY!” 

Johnny screamed a war cry at the top of his lungs as he flipped a switch to deploy the Stubborn Jerk Landing Gear, a patented technology of the Jerk Airways engineering team. 

“We gonna have to bounce this mofo!” said Johnny.

Johnny brought the jet straight to first bit of empty space behind the last aircraft on a runway. The Jerk Airways plane slammed onto its landing gear, looking as if it was about to belly flop, then literally bounced up into the sky again over the bumper to bumper flights and slammed into another empty space on the runway with another bone crunching crack before repeating the process. 

The passengers, some of whom had actually managed to exchange numbers with one another (after all, if you’re gonna be miserable, why not make the most of it?) bounced with the jet up and down, breaking more bones along the way. With each bounce, the plane was bouncing less and less. Finally, Jerk Airways Flight 42 bounced to a stop in front of an empty gate, somehow intact.

The cowboy looked around left to right. In all of his experiences on Jerk Airways, this was the absolute wildest and insane thing he had done, and that was certainly a statement. 

“Well hot damn Johnny! Ya did it!” grinned the cowboy as he slapped Johnny on the back.

Johnny Bravo was utterly in shock at his success and completely speechless. The cowboy picked up the intercom.

“Alrighty everybody, in spite of the shutdown and the general fucked up nature of the world right now, we’ve got you to where you need to be. Thank you for flying with Jerk Airways, and as always, the pleasure was certainly all mine and probably not yours! Still hope y’all are happy to get here though!”

All the cowboy heard in response were groans and grunts of pain. Ah well…thought the cowboy.

The radio crackled to life.

“We coming for you comrade!” roared Boris Grishenko.

Johnny snapped to look at the cowboy and whispered:

“Uh oh…”

To be continued