turboplanner

........ it in to within an inch (imperial term) of one of the SEAL's lives."

Just then the SEALs started to get a bit testy (nttiaw with that), as they had discovered that Bossy Loxy was not a SEAL after all.

 

SEAL # 3 had received a tweet that a Bossy Lox dna sample (and I'm not saying from here) had proven that Bossy Loxy was definately not a SEAL, but was actually a Dugong with a cute face, anaerexia, and some stuck-on whiskers. (The same features that saw him elevated to the MagnificantiMachismoModeratti).

 

That discovery caused a stink that was similar to the Member's Meeting in Temora, except this time it was done competently. "You are not one of us" said SEAL # 5 (who was a short-a*se pompous little Punt Captain), "You should not be here, so leave this raiding party immediately."

 

The now not-so-Cocky Locky, stood, pulled his pants back on and cried out the the CFIFakir for help "Please, maaaate, just do me a ...................

"...favour and point your PG at that nasty #3, I think I've just had a #2, and really I'm just a fiery" said Goldilocks

"I can see you're telling the truth" said CFI " that's exactly what those Mainland nancys are like"

"What's Bon Jove got to do with these Punts?" said the Tasmanian Lass.

"Don't refer to us like that" replied the SEAL Team, getting their dander up "And why did that You-Toob video of Tubb's sound and look like the lead-in to a Monty Python sketch?'

 

"But what about me" yells the Faqir, who was browned off about being written out of the NES so quickly.

 

"Stand right where you are" said the Punter "Or I'll ........................

"...blow your leg off with a spoon"

"But you're my son, THEY'RE then enemy" wailed CFI

"Sorry" said the son, "Could have been a case of family fire there Paw"

"FREEZE! , yelled Bossy Locks who'd seen a TV Series or two "Put your hands in the...."

"Don't have a freezer" responded CFI putting another cap on the Punt Gun and shoving...

"I am a Faquir and I am fakir'n cranky" said the CFI with an authoritarian CFI type voice.

"Hup, hup, .. hup, ..... hup, ....... huup, ......... huup ............................. huuup ............................... huuuuup." said the SEAL Team as they started to run out of breath.

 

"Let's stop" yelled Bossy Loxy (who loved being in charge) "This is almost as much fun as being a member of the MachismoModerati" he thought to himself.

 

"No let's go ........... No, let's stop ......... let's go ..........let's stop" he added, making a SEAL NCO's in-joke (and they all laughed).

 

"We'll give you 2 minutes to surrender" Bossy Loxy finally said the the CFI Fakir.

 

"Watch this boyz" said SEAL Team Member #2, as they'll have a competition to see who can out-boss each other.

 

"Nobody can out-boss a CFI" said #3, who was about to take bets.

 

"Bugger it then" said #4 "Put your fakir'n hands up or ...... BANG ...... they all heard it (except the bloke on the receiving end) and all were amazed to see ..............

...the old Faquir stand straight up, hook a finger in each side of his mouth, and shw his teeth.

"Steady Lads" said Bossy, who'd got a most terrible fright, then "charge", then "Oh ****" as he felt the tension of a trip wire.

Rocky, and Jock echoed his exceptional expletive as they too tripped wires and there was an enormous "BOOM" followed by the sound of whistling cutlery.

Now, good readers, the author is fully aware of current SEALS laser guided weaponry, night vision etc, but this was Taswegia and CFI had to use what he could get, and his grandfather, who was also his great grandfather (there's not enough time here to fully explain the ancestry of Taswegia), had bequeathed him three Punt Guns.

They were a vicious machine and had to be limited in The Gun Barrel Proof Act 1868 to 8 feet 4 inches long, with a bore no bigger than 2 inches.

This wasn't so much for safety, they were loaded with any metal artifact thaty could be found around the home, and it was more a case of protecting the Mem Sahib's silverware Bai Jove.

Although quite often the gunners would overshoot the lagoon bank and initialled sterling liver cutlery could be seen whistling down the main street of the village.....

Turbo operating a Punt Gun on Albert Park Lake in the middle of Melbourne, shortly before his arrest.

"....send word back to base for Brine to come and get you, snigger snigger"

"Now" said Foerlocks, "Let's go overseas to Taswegia and sort out old CFI"

"I'll be waiting" said the voluble Mr I

"Everyone got their passports?" asked Bossy Locky and they all climbed in through the ample rear doors of the Avocet which was powered by an engine with much the same reliability as a Qantas A380.

"Everybody Out!" yelled Bossy, who'd forgotten to take a group photo with the boys in the black gear

"Right, Let's go! yelled Bossy after the photo was taken, in the best military procedure, apparently because without this command they would stay "in pose" for a year.

At the Lonceston International Airport, a TV newsflash caught their eye about an aircraft crash in the Tamar river.

After A Tanker Captain, Barge Tug Captain, Half Cab stubbie drinker, a guy fishing for flathead, and the OH&S Rep from Cadburys all reported 18 crashes on the river, Constable Loques was the first on the scene, and found the pilot standing in his jocks on the riverbank with his clothes drying out beside him.

"What's your name?" asked Cnst.Locques

"Eugene, and I'm President of Ratfly, but you don't want to hear about about all that boring stuff", said Eugene

"What caused the crash then? asked Cnst. Locques whe was practicing his CFI language

"Crash, CRASH!" said Eugene "I ALWAYS land like that"

The SEALS were called away from the TV news when their bus, a 1948 Bedford arrived to take them up into the hills where CFI lived.

The bus dropped them off after a six hour run, and they found themselves beside the remote road isolated in, well, Taswegia.

Bossy Locky quickly said "Let's go!", just in case someone else beat him to it, stepping off the road and straight down to his knees in a sucking blacksoil marsh.

"Didn't you see the signs" said Rocky "Danger, do not walk off footpaths and roads - this is Taswega"

Bossy climbed out, his fack black as an emoticon, and they found a rocky path, and soon had entered a dark and forbidding valley where the aroma from rotting apple, woodsmoke, and alcohol assailed their noses.

A tall, hunched figure was loading wood with one hand, a shotgun in the other....................

...and is manifested by a seemingly inexhaustible array of gaseous emissions from one's ventral exhaust system."That explains that malingering odour hanging around the cockpit after a flight" said Mavis :yuk:

 

"I always thought that it was............

"....a medical condition"

"Nah" said Turbo, "it's what he eats down at the Hog's Breath Cafe in Baylis St.

"After an hour or so you realise he can blow the rear doors off an Avocet!"

"Never mind" said the Rat, "it was boring anyway"

Loxy, who these days was suffering from Rivititis, a disease which only affects those who fly in old type aircraft with popeye rivets.....

...the transport droned steadily across the afternoon sky powered by four gleaming new jabertoo engines. A pitch change alerted the flight crew that something may not be quite right.

"You hear that skipper? Sounds like port number 2 has gone out of sync." commented the FO .

 

"Nothing to worry about son, it's probably just lunched a valve." Reassured No1., "When the other three do the same in a minute or two, they'll sync back up."

 

"Synchronise watches." Barked the SEAL commander as she realised the engines were about to go into stealth mode.

 

"Mickey's big hand on the 12 and little one on the 3....mark!"....

.....but unfortunatelt readers will not be able to read the most exciting jaw dropping slobbering tingling story of how the Seals attacked, why they attacked each other, and the direction they went due to strict secrecy agreements.....

"I'm proud of them" she always replies "There is nothing wrong with you, dear Goldy, being a Good-Boy, a Lurker, a Saunterer, and I can vouch that you are certainly a MagnificentiModerati ("Oh, are you ever" she adds with admiration and a glint in her eye) ........ who's only real fault is that you .............

...delete too quickly.

...prolapse.

Turbo noticed that Loxy had "come out", and by his smiley proclaimed positively that he was a LURKER.

We on the NES had know this fact for some time, but as part of our Secrecy Bond had agreed not to release details, and we still won't about the more extreme activities of this horrific protagonist.

We think Mrs Lox may have an idea he's a lurker because of all the sticky sweets she finds in his coat pockets when she does the wash.....

................... and guess who got the Mile-High post # 5280? ................................

...and a post is all you got too......

It appears that Loxy has the clap and is indisposed.

....pondering the pontifications of a lazy layabout from Bangerhome.""I wish I had a jaunty saunter like O'Dalby' he mused, "Then I could.............

"saunter slowly by, and ask the missus why, it always rests in I, to ask the reason why, I need permission to fly"

"Don't be so long winded" said Mrs Loxy, you flew yesterday and once a week's enough.

Poxy was crestfallen, and his back leg stopped scratching and just sat in mid air.....

... "not without you filling out a form 1887/0734562.4: Application to be lost first." growled Annie. "And you'll need to do the sauntering into departmental premises indoctrination course before you can do that."

O'Dalby grinned, scratched his ear, grinned a bit more and then.........

..said "Just a minute, I'll call Poxy Loxy to see if he does Certificate IV sauntering"

But the phone was dead, Loxy's front gate was closed, and he was going to have to wait until the wife got home, and this was washing day where it was Loxy's job to say "LOAD" and "UNLOAD" and all the things you do when you do the washing.....

.......... but being a safety conscious Inspector dude, he wrote the tickets on fluro yellow paper with his fluoro yellow pen, and stuck them in 5000 fluoro yellow envelopes, each with a fluoro yellow address window on the front. (and YOU try writing "fluoro yellow" twenty times while paralytic, in transit, at 3000 ft, in fog, while VFR licenced, between Broken Hill and Dubbo, while trying to talk with ATC, and keep Nanna happy in the Navigatrix's seat). It's hard and ................

"...now I have to find a post box"

It had been a quiet morning at the West Ryde Mail Exchange, when Ample Annie opened the first bag of an unusually large delivery from the Dubbo area.

Annie's best feature was a single eyebrow, and she was not known for being demure, so it wasn't long before there was a roar and Annie could be seen carrying bag after bag outside to the dump bin.

This attracted the supervisor's eye, and he decided to weigh one of the bags.

He called her in to the office together with a Union Representative and a Certificate IV Counsellor, along with a catering assistant who had completed a food handling course, to make the coffees.

"Now I notice that these bags are two kilogrammes over the maximum weight you are permitted to lift" he said "what have you got to say about that?"

Her response was to tip the bag of letters over his head, but he'd been to Conflict Resolution training which had been conducted at a Noosa penthouse, and merely said:

"I know the envelopes are fluoro yellow and the adress is yellow fluoro, but we pride ourselves on sending the mail somewhere, so you are to open each and every letter, find out who the sender is and mail it back with a polite message.

Annie was just opening the 7,253'rd envelope, and so far had only seen fluoro yellow paper with what appeared to be fluoro yellow writing, and was waiting with a shortened fuse to find one accidentally written with a pencil when the door opened, and in walked the Cecil Plains Drifter with a dryzabone coat and a big grin on his face:

"Gday" he said "I'm lost, can you help me?"..................

........... and why didn't you challenge that too, either, as well?" he added with a jaunty ....................

...snigger, which turned to "OOOOOFHHHHH" as Slarti kicked him in the hangars (hangers in Queensland)

"Why didn't you challenge us, ..... and those sheep?" asked the CASSSA Inspector (Commonweath Authoritarian Sheep Shed & Sh*t Association Inspector) with his great big orange fluoro badge (you can't be too careful), his lime green fluoro report book and his fluoro orange pencil case, as he leaned agaisnt the door with one arm around Nanna, the other around Edna, and the other around ..................

...a stubby.

"Here I am only trying to help you, and you failed to challenged all five thousand of them. This is an offence of Strict Liability, and we have five thousand offences - ten thousand between the two of you"

"OK, write each of us out a ticket for each offence" , said Nanna who was street smart and knew he'd give up once she brought out the BBQ meat and stubbies.........but he didn't, he just sat under a bluegum and wrote ten thousand tickets over two days (he was paid by the taxpayer).

"There you go" he said, "a year's imprisonment for each offence, that will see you two away for 5,000 years"

orange fluoro badge (you can't be too careful), fluoro orange pencil case....

"They are NOT orange" slobbered the BBQ man

....like a pair of tank stands at a shearing complex (new pc term for shed - vests to be worn, indoctrination certificate pinned on vest)

............ but now I have a plate, my D-cups are T-cups, I dream about spooning, I'd love a fork, gravity (aviation reference) has taken over, and I ......

"can't work out why I have missing posts"

"Are you saying that Slartibuttcrack actually pedals that gorgeous spotted Pussy, the same as they did in the Gossamer Condor thingy?" asked Edna who was a little ignorant when it comes to weight, motive power and the size of the Buttcrack's muscular legs (and the big question of whether he shaves 'em). "Heck he must be a goer if he has that type of staying power, PLUS as the A*se-is-tant Admin he is probably a member of the MagnificentiMachismoModerati and could easily have more power that a CFI (be they caring or full of disdain), or a CASA ASIC Policeman with his hand on his .........................

.....card reader, and behaving like the neighbour's dog - all prick and teeth.....

....couldn't take her feet off the pedals.......

"Wagga aint got fleas" declared Mavis"You can get crabs there, if you go to one of Poxies infamous soirees" declared Nana

 

"Well I never" said Elrattus.............

"..some people have amazing memories. Poxy was his name in school, and was given to him by the girls after he got into a habit of following them around the playground.

"It wasn't his behaviour they objected to, but his habit of wearing his old Donald Duck pyjama pants which were never washed from year to year, and ...."

How come David gets a title,wot about Turbs the Tewwibly Turbuwent, Captain, the Rattus Nonsensicus, CFI, who cares, Poxy Locksy, Slarty the Last Farter, Ditdah the Younger, Tomo the terwiffic, the Handsum Mr H, Motza the rella and Brine the Beatified (dont forget Norbu the nobhead and Nana.......(I aint giving her a title that will come back to bite me on the bum))

Poxy Locksy stood up on his hind quarters and rotated his head 270 degrees (aviation term). His sharp claws had left a cute little track in the flea ridden Wagga Wagga dust...

That may be the outcome Bob, without a doubt the self-preservation/induction training would be part of it.

CFIcaress stood proudly and responded "G'day Robbie. I am not only ambidextrous, I love ACDC, The Rolling Stones, Queen (not that there is anything wrong with that), AmbiPur, amphibians (once you cut their claws), BoyGeorge, ambivalence (RAA member's aviation term, sometimes), ambrosia, ambuscading in the bush, quiet subtly lit ambiance, amberjacks, I am extremely ambitious (and will do just about anything to get ahead ........ if you get my drift (aviation term)) and to top it off I use ambergris (that's a secretion of the Sperm Whale, don't-ya-know) to ............

".... smear round the trunks of the Native forest to make Gunns chainsaw jocks slip off the notches so they can't climb up and fell the trees and create artificial amphitheatres whioch just amplify sound, which wakes up the possums, which then amuse themselves in ambitious attempts to climb up the amply greased trees which grow amply in the sunshine until they have enough leaves to burn down the saw mills, shaking the local managers out of their ambivalence as they realise they are about to be fired."

This was generally agreed to be the new record for a CFI speech, although not as long as David the Great's magnificent works of fiction although.....