TERROR FEAR HORROR IN THE AIR!

by Dermot O'Connor

I had been due to fly a week after September 11, 2001. As we all know, most flights were grounded following the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Fortunately, I have friends in the highest levels of the Bush administration who were able to place me on a flight. I was relieved; my trip was vital to my business interests. I knew how priveleged I was to be able to fly (at taxpayer expense).

Indeed, the plane was marvellous, superior to any I had travelled on before. I managed to take a snapshot:



As I entered the plane, I realised that something was very very wrong. All the other passengers were Saudi Arabians.

It was already common knowledge that the mastermind behind the 911 attacks was Usama Bin Laden, a high-ranking Saudi! What was going on?

I took my seat. The plane was luxurious. I had never seen anything like it; it far surpassed the First Class section of Virgin Airlines. The attendents were clearly terrified. The Saudis wore Dishdadi-thingies (like Lawrence of Arabia). They could have had Anthrax bombs under them for all I knew.

What the hell was our government doing, transporting potential allies of Usama Bin Laden in a luxury aircraft one week after the WTC attack? Shouldn't we have been torturing interrogating them instead?

Once we were in the air, I tried to relax. Our President (Praise be to Him) knows what he's doing, surely? The Saudis must be our friends, I assured myself. I looked back and saw them whispering among themselves. Several laughed, in an evil, James-Bond supervillain kind of way. One of the more swarthy ones got up and went to the back of the plane to ''relieve'' himself.

At this point my bowels began to turn cold. Could they be assembling an Atomic bomb in the toilet?

It was the only rational explanation for their strange behaviour.

The flight attendants entered the cabin and began to serve dinner. The food was wonderful. I started with the Crab cakes. The were served with Fresh Chive Sauce and Tomato Concasse. They were quite delicious. I followed with Cream of Fennel Soup. It was less satisfactory, being a little on the lukewarm side. A Salad with Artichoke Vinaigrette was next, soon followed with warm dinner rolls. The main course was Rondelle of Salmon with Juniper Berry Sauce. The salmon was very tender; the Sauce complimented the taste marvellously. For desert, a Chocolate Grand Marnier Torte with Orange Caramel Sauce completed a First Class meal.

Being a First Class flight, the tableware was of course METAL, not plastic. Were the Saudis planning to take over the plane with their forks and kill us all?

As yummy as the food was, I could not shake off the feeling that something was wrong. The Saudi gentlemen were jubilant - in a way that made my stomach churn. I clenched my legs together to prevent my bladder from emptying itself, such was the extreme terror afflicting my palpitating heart. I could hold back no longer: I had to use the toilet.

As I walked past the Saudis, I attempted to remain calm. They looked away, not wanting to make eye contact. One of them had a satchel, another carried a plastic bag...

''Surely one was full of Plutonium, the other contains the detonator!'' I thought to myself. I didn't want to alert them to the fact that their ghastly plan had been exposed, and continued on to the toilet.

I released the contents of bladder and bowels in a violent pungent eruption. The fear of sudden death at the hands of Islamo-Fascists had liquified my stools most effectively. I did not envy the next Saudi gentleman to use the facility.

After limping back to my seat, I eased my tender rear onto the plush cushion. I could tell that the flight attendants were as petrified as I was. I scribbled a quick note on a napkin:

''Bad terror men - tell the pilot!'' was all I had time to write. I handed it to the attendant. She nodded, and said ''I shouldn't tell you this, but we know, the pilot knows, and there are nine secret service agents on board. If they find out that I told you this, I could lose my job. Please don't tell anyone that I told you, please.''

''Thanks Jenny'', I replied. ''I see your surname is Smith - so your family is from England originally?'' I asked. She was very nice. I'm glad she told me about the secret service agents, because I relaxed a bit after that.

As we came in to land, one of the arabs stood up before the seat-belt sign went off. At this point I lost control of my bowels. Fortunately they were mostly empty, minimising the damage to my pants.

As we left the plane, one of the Saudis turned to me and said ''As-Salaam-Alaikum''. I was sure that this was a death threat, along the lines of ''Death to America''. I wanted to hit him in the face, the evil freedom-hating bastard. Once I left the plane, I was met by lots of security people. I told them about everything that happened, including the threatening comment. The bad men were taken to one side, spoken to, and allowed to go on their way.

I was shocked! How can our government allow middle-easterners to move freely? We will only be safe if we can round them up and put them in detention centers in the middle of the desert. The Homeland desperately needs a Final Solution to the Arab Problem.