'Why didn't you kill me,' asked Stan.
'Didn't want to waste another bullet,' said Max.
'Just as well,' replied Stan, 'because I'm your boss.'
'Are you saying you are CIA?' asked Frank.
'Let's just say I move on the bottom of the ocean.' Stan took another bite of his hotdog, from a stand on the corner of a very expansive looking building. 'And you'd be surprised how many shiny things you find on the ocean floor.'
'So you are saying you are lobster.'
'I never said that Max, but if you want to call me a bottom feeder, I can assure that I am.'
There was no time to waste, said Stan.
'Jack tells me you are wanted in Mexico City.'
Me and Max got shit faced at the bar of the double-decker Boing 747 of Air Big Tit's Inc.
'Isn't that overkill?'
'No worse than Virgin,' I said, adding, 'I'm told we won't be needing pillows on this long haul flight.'
Ok, it was Delta.
They were flying direct from Vienna to Mexico City and the air hostesses were employed because of their physical attributes.
'We have personality too, I hope,' said the lady behind the bar, she had to be from Eastern Russia with those Mongolian features from that part of the world.
'I thought the features you were referring to were my big knockers and almond-shaped eyes.'
Yes, that too Rebecca.
The ten-hour flight just went like that. Tequila, lime, salt, followed by Corona, we were having a jolly good time.
They say time is suspended on long haul flights.
'No, it's actioned packed with socializing,' said Rebecca, who kept on flashing one of her large boobs.
She was playing hard to get.
'I find that eye candy is a wonderful way to delay and if not defeat the effects of jetlag,' she eventually said after refilling our drinks.
Max blurted out, 'you are hired, we'll be at the Grand Hyatt, room 101, see us there and we'll discuss how you can make some cash on the side.'
'Didn't want to waste another bullet,' said Max.
'Just as well,' replied Stan, 'because I'm your boss.'
'Are you saying you are CIA?' asked Frank.
'Let's just say I move on the bottom of the ocean.' Stan took another bite of his hotdog, from a stand on the corner of a very expansive looking building. 'And you'd be surprised how many shiny things you find on the ocean floor.'
'So you are saying you are lobster.'
'I never said that Max, but if you want to call me a bottom feeder, I can assure that I am.'
There was no time to waste, said Stan.
'Jack tells me you are wanted in Mexico City.'
Me and Max got shit faced at the bar of the double-decker Boing 747 of Air Big Tit's Inc.
'Isn't that overkill?'
'No worse than Virgin,' I said, adding, 'I'm told we won't be needing pillows on this long haul flight.'
Ok, it was Delta.
They were flying direct from Vienna to Mexico City and the air hostesses were employed because of their physical attributes.
'We have personality too, I hope,' said the lady behind the bar, she had to be from Eastern Russia with those Mongolian features from that part of the world.
'I thought the features you were referring to were my big knockers and almond-shaped eyes.'
Yes, that too Rebecca.
The ten-hour flight just went like that. Tequila, lime, salt, followed by Corona, we were having a jolly good time.
They say time is suspended on long haul flights.
'No, it's actioned packed with socializing,' said Rebecca, who kept on flashing one of her large boobs.
She was playing hard to get.
'I find that eye candy is a wonderful way to delay and if not defeat the effects of jetlag,' she eventually said after refilling our drinks.
Max blurted out, 'you are hired, we'll be at the Grand Hyatt, room 101, see us there and we'll discuss how you can make some cash on the side.'
