stevenpiziks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stevenpiziks) wrote2015-03-06 10:34 pm
stevenpiziks) wrote2015-03-06 10:34 pm
Harrison Ford and Kaboom!
Everyone is talking about how Harrison Ford crashed-landed a little airplane on that golf course and walked out of the wreckage, a little worse for wear. Me, I wonder about the other people.
I mean, can you imagine?
You're out on a nice day of golf, having a decent time of it, maybe one under par. You're at the eighth tee, lining up your shot. Then you hear this "NEEEEEEEYYOOOOOWWWWMMM! KASMASH!" and this airplane drops out of the sky right in front of you. Several unnerving moments pass, and a vaguely rumpled Harrison Ford staggeres out of the cockpit.
"I'm okay!" he says. "Really, I'm fine! Still, could I trouble someone to call a paramedic, just in case?"
I mean, who would believe you?
You arrive home, carrying a certain amount of breathless excitement about you, and your spouse says, "So, anything interesting happen down at the links?"
This is the moment you've been waiting for. "As a matter of fact," you say casually, "Harrison Ford's airplane crashed right in front of me. The propeller nearly clipped my nine iron. Harrison--he said we could call him that because we brushed the dust off him--was fine, but they took him to the hospital anyway. Bernie Terdeskowicz wanted him to sign our balls, but we talked him out of asking."
Your spouse blinks, then bursts out laughing. "Of course, dear. Of course. Was he flying the Milennium Falcon? Was Chewbacca hurt?"
"No, no, really! It was Harrison Ford's plane! It dropped right out of the sky and nearly killed me while I was teeing off. My ball fell of its tee, and afterward Bernie said it counted as a stroke, if you can believe it."
"Aw, I love you, darling. Your sense of humor is the reason I'm still with you after all these years."
"But--"
See what I mean?
I mean, can you imagine?
You're out on a nice day of golf, having a decent time of it, maybe one under par. You're at the eighth tee, lining up your shot. Then you hear this "NEEEEEEEYYOOOOOWWWWMMM! KASMASH!" and this airplane drops out of the sky right in front of you. Several unnerving moments pass, and a vaguely rumpled Harrison Ford staggeres out of the cockpit.
"I'm okay!" he says. "Really, I'm fine! Still, could I trouble someone to call a paramedic, just in case?"
I mean, who would believe you?
You arrive home, carrying a certain amount of breathless excitement about you, and your spouse says, "So, anything interesting happen down at the links?"
This is the moment you've been waiting for. "As a matter of fact," you say casually, "Harrison Ford's airplane crashed right in front of me. The propeller nearly clipped my nine iron. Harrison--he said we could call him that because we brushed the dust off him--was fine, but they took him to the hospital anyway. Bernie Terdeskowicz wanted him to sign our balls, but we talked him out of asking."
Your spouse blinks, then bursts out laughing. "Of course, dear. Of course. Was he flying the Milennium Falcon? Was Chewbacca hurt?"
"No, no, really! It was Harrison Ford's plane! It dropped right out of the sky and nearly killed me while I was teeing off. My ball fell of its tee, and afterward Bernie said it counted as a stroke, if you can believe it."
"Aw, I love you, darling. Your sense of humor is the reason I'm still with you after all these years."
"But--"
See what I mean?