Your Careless Attitude Will Decrease Your Altitude

At least in the simulator I know that I am the plane.
Unlike this 'real life' BS where half the time you don't know who you're supposed to be.

In the simulator, you glide happily,
letting your pilot use the joystick to pan his/her view to their heart's extent. 
Then, in real life the pilot is demanding certain take-off protocols.

As the simulator, you slowly begin your take-off procedure.
In real life the pilot slowly realizes he only knows how to fly a Cessna!

That was the extent of his training.

You begin to taxi according to airport procedure. The pilot panics, *feeling* that you may be moving a little too fast.

You disable a few controls from his command. You decide that your 'twin heating-seeking' missiles won't really be necessary for this particular run. Also, as a terrifying joke, you make the pilot aware that Ejection capability is now available at any time.

We have taxied toward the runway. Who knows what the pilot is trying to say in the background? Let us sneak into the captain's cabin and find out.

.

"This weather is too fucking rainy, L'Plaise. I suggest that we call for the vehicles that slowly back us down this runway, and take us back to our berth!"

L'Plaise had just woken from a sleep she would normally enter right when the captain began the normal prep to fly an aeroplane containing 24 human passengers straight into the sunshine.

"Wait, wait wait," said L'Plaise. "This isn't the weather for us to fly in, captain!"

"Damn your Island accent, L'Plaise," screamed the captain. "Try and do something!"

The plane jerked forward, ending up 2.5 feet from its initial position. L'Plaise felt like she was dreaming, but she believed that the movement had suddenly also adjusted some pitch and yaw. She thought she could also hear some of the mechanics below slap the plane on its tires, telling it that everything was good for take-off. Then they heard the jets come afire. It wasn't simultaneous. First it was the one on the left, blowing to life.

Then, almost immediately, the second engine got thrown into ignition and filled up the cockpit from the right with its bellow. The captain held his foot steady on the brakes, and L'Plaise sat back on her chair and strapped herself in and stared back at the captain, indicating that this was his plane, under his command--not hers.

The plane gently taxied to the runway (yeah, it hadn't quite been at the runway yet), with its engines ready. Then, there it stood, waiting. The two pilots could hear the passengers cheering at the back, happy that they were moving at last.

Finally the control tower allowed, and there was a massive earthquake--except it wasn't an earthquake. It was a release, and the captain flew straight out of the windshield and straight back into his chair as a pile of cannibal's spaghetti (because there was no way he was going to actually crash through the 'wind-shield' of the plane). L'Plaise closed her eyes and covered them with her hands, knowing how this would turn out--knowing how badly a plane could skid and slide during take-off during a rainy morning, especially without a pilot at the stick.

There was a long, smooth, rushing feeling, and the engines were loving being so loud yet so silent. Making babies look at their moms and the moms just smiling back these new airplane babies.

Then there was just the feeling of confident ascent. It was accentuated by a slightly bumpy feeling, which was from the landing gear retracting, and a careful descent of the flaps to glide toward the left.

"Mmm," smiled L'Plaise to herself, knowing the gentle patterns of flight that should be taken to caress out of that island airport. Then she realized that she was the only human flying the plane and walked over near the captain's seat. She brushed the captain away and sat on his chair. "Let's return our flaps," she told the plane, "we're at a decent altitude now."

The plane carefully adjusted its flaps to normalize altitude.

"Call me Ishmael," said L'Plaise, putting her feet upon the sophisticated console of the plane. "I can pretty much fly anywhere with you, can't I?"

The plane's wipers activated, making a strange whirring sound, then deactivated. A voice then emanated, "L'Plaise, I see that a woman is in trouble about 24454--uh, about half the world away. There is an issue with her rent and she is being extorted due to her position as an outspoken person of the wrong gender within that area of polity, who also has a child."

L'Plaice almost jumped for joy. "I *KNEW* it," she yelled, dancing happily around. I knew it, I knew it! There was no way they were going to put me in a car with only a little Justin Bieber synthesizer!"

The plane almost snorted as it adjusted it's roll. "We don't think in terms of car travel anymore, L'Plaise," it said. "Please seat and strap yourself as the next few minutes will incur drastic turbulence."

There were massive shudders and threats of snapping wings, but then, after almost--no, exactly two minutes, there was the feeling again of a smoothness. "L'Plaice," said the plane, I believe the 24 human passengers aboard are unsure about their destination. Can you appraise them of the situation?"

A mic protruded slowly from between the altimeter and the GPS. L'Plaise immediately sat down and covered the mic with her hand. "Wait, wait. You want *me* to speak to them?"

"You're the captain, my captain" said the aircraft.

There was a long silence, during which the 24 passengers were treated with music by a man named "Busta Rhymes". The 3 babies on the flight loved it.

"Alright, alright, I will," said L'Plaice. "But first. I've been wondering who they chose as your voice," said L'Plaice. "I couldn't place it at first, because I was damn sure they would have just used Justin Bieber."

The plane rolled to the right until some of its wings began to creak. She heard one of the 3 babies in the background begin to cry. But it was only a short roll, and then there was that feeling of normalization. That calm feeling of being in control of oneself. The cry baby cooed now, getting used to the sensation.

She put her feet up on the console again. "Then I realized," she said. "They used Robin Williams."

The attitude lowered slightly and the altitude began to increase gently. "Miss L'Plaice," said the plane, "I am Knight Industries Six-Hundred and-Sixty-Six Thousand (KISSST, in short). I *am* Robin Williams."

.

*knight rider, a shadowy FLIGHT into the dangerous world of a man who does not exist*
That whirring sound is just the aeroplane's wipers as it tears across the teary world.