By Richard Bleil
Author’s Note: I didn’t really write this per se. I found the script as I was getting on a flight, and pilfered it. I’m just writing down what it says. Really. Honestly. I’m all seriousical ‘n’ stuff. It does kind of surprise me, though. I guess I never really paid much attention to what they’ve been saying.
We would like to thank you for choosing our flight today, but we won’t because we know as well as you do that it was just the cheapest flight you can find.
Take this time to familiarize yourself with the safety card in the back of your seat which nobody ever does and since they are untouched we do not understand to this day why they are sticky and so full of germs.
If you wish to have a little fun, remove the complementary barf bag, open it, and look at the poor slob sitting next to you while explaining “it’s for the inevitable” in as calm and matter-of-fact straight-faced voice you can muster.
During takeoff, please do not use laptops or any devices larger than a handheld or mobile phone because takeoffs are bumpy and you’re too clumsy for us to have any faith that you won’t bean yourself In the head and try to sue us for the resulting concussion. You may continue to use your handheld or mobile device provided that it is in “airplane mode” and not sending or receiving signals because if It happens to pick up the frequency used by the plane we do not want you to hear the panic in your pilot’s voice.
We ask that you return the try tables to the locked position so you don’t impale yourself in case of impact as we don’t want to have to match your upper torso with your legs. Please be sure your seatbacks are in the upright and locked position. Honestly, there’s only about three inches difference between upright and reclined, but upright and you live, and reclined and you die. This is a friendly reminder that when you fly with us, you are always just three inches away from death.
Before we take off, we ask that you kindly pretend like you’re paying attention to our safety pre-flight instructions, and we’ll pretend like we believe your act.
You will find a seat belt on your seat which have been modeled after a car built in 1972 as if this is adequate for this purpose. Normally we would show you how to use it but if you can’t figure this one out on your own you don’t deserve to live anyway.
In the event of cabin pressure loss, air masks will descend from above you because we want your lungs filled with oxygen as we crash into the mountainside to help with the cremation of your remains. Pull the mask down to initiate the flow of highly flammable oxygen, put the mask on your face with the elastic band over your head and adjust it until it’s waaaaaay too tight because of your panic. If you’re helping a small person or another child, kindly put your mask on first to maximize the panic in their small brains that still are too young to comprehend what is going on.
In the event of a water landing, a flotation like device is located under your seats and smells like the beer farts of the 7,803 passengers whose filthy butts have occupied your exact seat before you. You make 7,804. Yes, we count. To use this device, pull the red tag to open the compartment containing it, and unzip the fresh-seal plastic bag that is just like the plastic found protecting the free toys in cereal boxes and for good reason. Place the vest over your head and strap the belt around your waste thereby frittering away valuable prayer time. Give a firm tug on the red handle that is supposed to inflate the device, and probably would have twenty-three years ago when it was brand-new but good luck anyway. When the bag fails to inflate, tug the handle seventeen more times harder and harder as if it will suddenly work while hurting your own neck. In the unlikely event that the vest does inflate, you’ll be able to see the cute little ducky head appear at the base because it’s not a serious flotation device anyway.
As the engines rev up, you’ll notice the sweet smell of fuel wafting through the aircraft. Do not worry about this as it is perfectly normal and does not mean that our fuel tanks leak like a sieve at all. Just for the love of GOD do not light up.
Today’s flight is scheduled for 67 minutes, and in the unlikely event of a successful flight, we will be landing in just enough time for you to miss your connecting flight. Good luck, sucker.
When it is safe…ish to do so, we will be coming around the cabin with some pretzels drier than the desert we are flying over and a complimentary beverage of your choice served in a disposable plastic thimble as if the profit we make off of your economy ticket alone doesn’t justify Lobster Thermador with bacon wrapped asparagus and cherries jubilee for desert served with an entire bottle of fine Champaign. Not that domestic stuff, mind you, but the real thing imported from France. We’d still make a boatload of moola!!!
We wish to thank you for flying with our airlines today, and are obliged to say that we hope your flight was pleasant and that you will choose to fly with us again, although frankly we really don’t care and only say that because we want more of your money. If we really cared, we wouldn’t keep shrinking the seats to the point that you are forced to sit on the lap of that sweaty passenger next to you who apparently does not understand the purpose of deodorant.