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Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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This conversation took place in an airport bar between an air marshal and a flight attendant. They had been friends for a while, even occasionally lovers, but on this day the conversation turns deadly serious.
Flight Attendant: I've got an idea for how we could make us some money.
Air Marshal: I've already got a job
F A: No, I mean real money. Money you could retire on.
A M: I'm listening
F A: Okay, first we find a woman who is an expert in airplane design.
A M: Should be doable (http://www.wai.org/)
F A: Who's American, but living in Europe. And has a daughter.
A M: Okay …
F A: Then we kill her husband by throwing him off the roof of their apartment building, making it look like suicide.
A M: And this makes us money how?
F A: Bear with me. She's going to have to fly back to the states right?
A M: I guess.
F A: That's when we pounce by kidnapping the daughter and convincing the already grief stricken mother that the daughter was never on the plane at all. That in fact she died with the husband.
A M: I think I see where you're going with this.
F A: Then, we tell the captain that the "crazy" lady has a bomb on the plane and wants a whole pile of cash or she's going to blow it up.
Oh I forgot, we put a bomb in the dead husband's coffin beforehand.
A M: Naturally.
F A: So when they bring the money you, as air marshal, will handle the exchange and steal the money.
A M: you've really put some thought into this. It's the perfect crime. The only way I see that it could fail is if the woman we pick is plucky and resilient and uses her extensive knowledge of airplane design to thwart us. But the odds of that happening are pretty small, I say we go for it.
Wait, how do we make sure that nobody else on the plane sees the daughter?
F A: Let's cross that bridge when we come to it.
The rest is movie making history.
Our unanimously beloved Prime Minister was not beheaded by terrorists while I was away, so take a deep breath and ponder this Harper with Kitties photo-op that I stole from the CBC site.
Vladimir Putin could probably pull it off a bit more convincingly, but this just leaves me totally disoriented. The obvious kitten-eating jokes aside, is anyone else puzzled?
No more posts from me either, I'm off to a cottage, and our hostess has promised that I'll be transported around the lake on a paddleboat ...just like Cleopatra.
In exchange, I had to promise that there would be no drama.
of any kind.
If joester refuses take over this site and bring his newly acquired California calm to this city (and continue the good work of destroying Sally's art blog credibility), then spend your fear-filled, yet lazy, Toronto summer days reading all the archives of email from NOLA (lots of post-apocalyptic fix-it tips), take a ride on the ADD rollercoaster at Tangerines in a Red Net Bag, or behave yourself and stay on topic dammit! at simpleposie's new location.
...packing
