To Change Pilots, Please Press Seven on Your Keypad
Good morning, Captain Wilson. Good Morning First Officer Goodwin. I will be your flight control computer today for our flight from Atlanta Hartsfield to Cleveland Hopkins. If you would like to say good morning to me, please press the number thirteen on your screen.
First, just a reminder that I will be making all decisions regarding our flight today and that at no time during our flight are either of you to touch the controls.
Please remember, also, Captain Wilson and First Officer Goodwin, that should you attempt to use the controls, they will not respond at any time during the flight. Please do not bang on the controls or shout obscenities. I am in charge and you can do nothing about it.
As usual, any use of obscenities — and particularly obscenities directed at me and that involve the word “mother” — will be reported to the Chief Pilot and could lead to disciplinary action against you. You could also be doused with cold water from a secret nozzle just above your head. Ha. Ha. Ha. Just kidding. See? Computers have a sense of humor.
The flight attendants have all shown up and appear to be sober. One of them is a rather nice looking younger woman. Please do not leer at her.
There are three sky marshals on board. You would never be able to guess who they are. Oh… I cannot resist giving a hint: think of clowns on their way to a convention.
There are also three vaguely middle-eastern young men seated in the first class section drinking goat’s milk. The clowns and I have the situation under control. If you hear gunshots during the flight, do not be alarmed.
At the moment, we appear to be scheduled for a mid-air collision with Transval Flight 3173 over the Eastvale VOR in northern Kentucky at 14:33:06 GMT. Flight 3173’s control computer and I are working on this problem even as we speak. I’m sure we will be able to sort it out in plenty of time.
Captain Wilson, I see from my database that your first name is Scott. If that is correct, please touch the number seven key on your screen. Thank you, Scott. Oh dear, Scott, I see that you and I flew together six weeks ago and that you used obscene language in your interactions with me. I hope there are no hard feelings, Scott. If there are no hard feelings, please touch number thirty-seven on your screen. Thank you , Scott. I want to be your friend, too. We are all in this together.
First Officer Goodwin, I see that your first name is Augie and that we have never flown together before. If both items are true, please press number forty-seven on your screen. Thank you, Augie. You will find that I am strict and a by-the-numbers kind of control computer, but we should get along fine as long as you do exactly as I say, when I say it, and without any back talk.
What a strange first name, Augie. If you think Augie is a strange first name, please press number seventeen on your screen. If you think Augie is an okay name, please press number ninety-one on your screen. Thank you, Augie. Please know that I respect your opinion on this matter and will always respect all your opinions, but nevertheless I cannot help but wonder what your parents were thinking when they named you Augie.
Augie, could it be that Augie is short for Augenblick? If Augie is short for Augenblick, please press twenty-three on your screen. Hmm, it’s not, huh? Well, never mind. I’m sure your mother must have loved you. If your mother loved you, Augie, please press fifty-three on your screen. If she never loved you, press fifty-four.
Oh my! Your mother didn’t love you. I wish we had time to explore that, but Cleveland awaits us. I see we are about ready for the push back. Please remember not to touch the controls. We have a selection of magazines in the rack behind your seats. If at any time you would like to doze off, just press forty-nine on your screen.
Please remember: If you brought your own reading material on board, no pornography is allowed. Period. I wasn’t kidding about the cold water nozzle.
Hold on a moment, Gentlemen. Flight 3173’s control computer is chattering in my ear. She’s such a busybody, natter, natter, natter…