757 bound for Honolulu.  This flight is full of freaks.  

Like the Lincoln tall man in the blue gingham shirt, who is too big for the plane, who insists on thundering up and down the aisle trying to figure out which lavatory line is the shortest.
There is one in the middle and two in the back and you can see the smoke pouring out of his ears as he tries to do the math.

Then take the goth in the rolling stone tongue print tights.  She’s too angry for Hawaii.

And the hoodie twins across the aisle from me who are so hungover I am afraid I’m going to get hit with the imminent vomit

And the kids.  There are a couple loose on the plane.  I think they’re going to visit Pan.  Why can’t they be controlled?

And all the loser purser can do is walk around muttering, “seatbelt sign is on.”  Who gives a flying fuck.  No one is seated anymore.  It’s like a bad dream.