#23 Vanadium- Chapter 5
Here we go:
"Did you know that that thing they tell you to do when a plane is about to crash- where you put your arms on your head?- is actually designed to kill you because according to leading economists I found on the internet they say that is is cheaper to kill you than it is to pay you a disability settlement for the rest of your surving life?"
"...excuse me?" Larry sputtered at this bold claim made by the man sitting in the seat next to his. He had barely entered the plane when his hopes for a peaceful flight were dashed by the disgustingly obese... thing... sitting next to him. It had not shut up from the moment Larry sat down. It had introduced itself as "Joe" but it could be "Jo," he wasn't sure. Becasue Jo was so obese, he had quite a bit of chest, but disturbingly had a bit of chin hair as well. But he was wearing a large, floral print tent... so Larry thought it might be best to just not try to figure out if he was sitting next to Joe or Jo.
"It's true. And if those little yellow things that look like party hats but aren't- they're actually masks to supposedly pump oxygen into your face if the plane is having problems- yeah, if those little party hats ever fall out of the ceiling, you should never ever under any circumstances put them on. You see, they don't actually pump oxygen into your face. Nope. That'd be too nice and definitely sane for an airline company. Instead, they pump in chloroform to make you pass out so that when they tell you to bend over and get into position you won't and they can say that they told you but you didn't listen. You see, the reason they tell you to bend over is so that they can screw you over, y'see?" Joe continued on as if Larry hadn't sounded disturbwed by the first part.
That nice young sales clerk in the bookstore, she knew I was going to sit next to this... this...
thing
didn't she? That's why she was so insistent I buy that mp3 player! Damn her... if she had told me I was going to sit next to this waste of space I might have actually bought one instead of telling her where she could shove it... Now I'm stuck sitting next to something that binges on McDonalds for breakfast, binges on Burger King for lunch, and binges on Jack in the Box for dinner, with some Taco Bell at midnight. The type of person who thinks switching to In 'n Out Burger is a major health improvement... And I'm gonna be stuck on this death trap with this conspiratorial fat lard who can't shut up and just ate my peanuts
"What the fuck is your problem!?" Larry snapped at Joe (Jo?).
"What do you mean my problem? I'm not the one who believes that airlines are not out to kill everyone they can get their grubby paws on. They're secretly run by terrorist organizations, did you know? That's why it was so easy for the terrorists to get on and take over and take out the Twin Towers. Because they owned part of the company." Joe insisted.
"That's preposterous! Airlines are run by normal people, the government wouldn't allow terror organizations to run them, and even if they did why haven't any people in the press found out yet? I'm sure that they would raise hell over it!" Larry raged at Jo (Joe?).
"They don't know because either the airlines killed them off or they paid them off. They bleed us dry with these overpriced seats- what else do you think they do with the money! Not pay out settlements, that's why they kill us! So they must be using it to keep peoples' mouths shut," Jo (Joe?) claimed.
"Then why the hell are you riding this plane?" Larry asked.
"What?" Joe (Jo?)
"You heard me. If you hate the airlines so much and think they are all out to kill us, why are you riding?"
"Because I'm going to a conference to speak on the dangers of flying and I'm gathering extra research. Also, I threatened the pilot. I told him that if he crashed us my people would hunt him down and kill him. If he got us there safely, then he would live and I'd pay him handsomely." Jo (Joe?) shrugged.
"That still doesn't explain why you ate my peanuts," Larry ground out.
"I needed a reason? Honestly, you should know by now never to leave food unguarded around fat people. We'll eat just about anything."
"They were mine, though. You had no right to them!" Larry hissed at him.
"Look, you can accept that I, the fattest man on the plane and who obviously loves to indulge in food, ate your peanuts because they were there and have no remorse. Or, you can continue to have your little hissy fit about me eating your peanuts (you can just ask the attendant for a new pack anyway) and I can have my people hunt down and kill you instead of the pilot. Your choice." Joe (Jo?) gave another shrug, rearranged himself (herself?) in the seat and pulled out a crossword puzzle that Larry didn't want to know the origin of. Larry shiverred.
"I'd like to see you try," Larry grumbled to himself. "You probably don't even have any friends."
"I never said anything about having friends." Larry felt a hot breath in his ear and a cold, rounded object pressing on his gut. Looking down, he saw a shiny silver gun (another object he didn't want to know where Joe had pulled from). "But these people will do whatever the fuck I tell them to. Kapeshe?"
Larry could do nothing more than nod.
Total word count by end of chapter 5: 4,614/50,000