I looked below me out of the helicopter.
Jack had his favorite flying music on.
The Ride of the Valkyries.
He was in some kinda seventies movies, strafing the desert landscape below him with imaginary rounds.
The subwoofer didn't half-pound out the determined Wagner score.
'Subwoofers are intended to augment the low-frequency range of loudspeakers covering higher frequency bands.'
Thanks, Max, I always wondered about that.
'And yes Jack,' I said, turning to my crazy conjoined twin, ' I know you are a big fan of Apocalypse Now.'
'What kinda nod was that,' he said, 'about as subtle as a sledgehammer.'
A white guy in a red jacket and a Balinese with wild unruly dyed black hair were climbing up the steps to the observation post of Mt. Bromo.
A gush of sulfur, now a cloud and enveloping the two loan trekkers who were at the rim of the cauldron.
'Fuck,' said Vanya Vetto, 'if we don't get some fresh air soon, we are fucking toast.'
'No worries boss,' said the Mad Hindu, 'I can see a helicopter.'
'Right on time,' said Vanya Vetto, the intrepid turgid traveler, who looked at his watch.
Dust swirled all over the place.
If ever there was a desecration of a tourist site, this was one of those times.
'Not necessarily,' said Max, who reminded me of our recent romp in the cemetery.
'Get in,' yelled Jack, as Vanya Vetto and the Mad Hindu, who went by his Hindu name, Made Sana, jumped in the copter.
I thumped Vanya hard on the back.
'Good to see you again,' I said, as I changed the tunes to a good Taylor Swift number, Take it Off.
'It's what I always say to the whores,' said Vanya, always the mysterious character with one-liners. If ever there was a living Errol Flynn character, it had to be him.
'I fucking hate mustaches,' he said, 'now what is this mission about? It better be fucking good. I don't take kindly to be being interrupted on my volcano hunting trips.'
'It had fucking stairs,' said Max, who seemed to know Vanya very well, ' we have a few wannabe terrorists to sort out. They are planning to bomb up a few nightclubs in Bali.'
But someone's got to walk up those fucking gently rising steps to the summit, thought Vanya, who got straight into character.
'What's fucking new,' said Vanya, as the helicopter climbed over a few more active volcanos. It was an enchanting island inhabited by crazy mystics hell bent on destroying the living world and big titted natives very keen on restoring it.
Jack had his favorite flying music on.
The Ride of the Valkyries.
He was in some kinda seventies movies, strafing the desert landscape below him with imaginary rounds.
The subwoofer didn't half-pound out the determined Wagner score.
'Subwoofers are intended to augment the low-frequency range of loudspeakers covering higher frequency bands.'
Thanks, Max, I always wondered about that.
'And yes Jack,' I said, turning to my crazy conjoined twin, ' I know you are a big fan of Apocalypse Now.'
'What kinda nod was that,' he said, 'about as subtle as a sledgehammer.'
A white guy in a red jacket and a Balinese with wild unruly dyed black hair were climbing up the steps to the observation post of Mt. Bromo.
A gush of sulfur, now a cloud and enveloping the two loan trekkers who were at the rim of the cauldron.
'Fuck,' said Vanya Vetto, 'if we don't get some fresh air soon, we are fucking toast.'
'No worries boss,' said the Mad Hindu, 'I can see a helicopter.'
'Right on time,' said Vanya Vetto, the intrepid turgid traveler, who looked at his watch.
Dust swirled all over the place.
If ever there was a desecration of a tourist site, this was one of those times.
'Not necessarily,' said Max, who reminded me of our recent romp in the cemetery.
'Get in,' yelled Jack, as Vanya Vetto and the Mad Hindu, who went by his Hindu name, Made Sana, jumped in the copter.
I thumped Vanya hard on the back.
'Good to see you again,' I said, as I changed the tunes to a good Taylor Swift number, Take it Off.
'It's what I always say to the whores,' said Vanya, always the mysterious character with one-liners. If ever there was a living Errol Flynn character, it had to be him.
'I fucking hate mustaches,' he said, 'now what is this mission about? It better be fucking good. I don't take kindly to be being interrupted on my volcano hunting trips.'
'It had fucking stairs,' said Max, who seemed to know Vanya very well, ' we have a few wannabe terrorists to sort out. They are planning to bomb up a few nightclubs in Bali.'
But someone's got to walk up those fucking gently rising steps to the summit, thought Vanya, who got straight into character.
'What's fucking new,' said Vanya, as the helicopter climbed over a few more active volcanos. It was an enchanting island inhabited by crazy mystics hell bent on destroying the living world and big titted natives very keen on restoring it.
