Flying to Pittsburg

“I had everything under control,” I said.

“Of course,” Professor Xavier nodded.

“Honest.” I insisted. The Professor was sitting in the copilot’s seat and Hudson was sitting in the seat behind him. We were on our way to Pittsburg and though there was still technically a garbage can-sized hole in the fuselage, my Emergency Repair Droid was working on it and will have it patched up in no time flat. In theory, anyway.

“I believe you,” the Professor responded.

“Seriously,” I added. “I mean, sure we had a little issue getting here but I wasn’t about to crash my ship into you or anything. The Danger Sled is my baby, I wouldn’t crash her.”

“What about that time you crashed on Throneworld?” Hudson asked.

“Well, I couldn’t really help that,” I answered. “We were kind of shot down by Zerg, you know.”

“What about that time we had to make an Emergency landing on Salinas V?” Hudson asked numbly.

“You mean when your space mouse chewed through the power converter for the warp drive?” I responded sharply.

“Oh yeah, I miss George,” Hudson looked down dejected. “Well then, what about that time when you crash landed on Space Station Alpha?”

“Shut. Up. Hudson,” I growled.

“Jon, when you said that you had control over your reverse thrust whatnot, I said that I believed you,” Professor Xavier interjected. “I understand that flying something like this is difficult, but I also know that you know what you’re doing.”

“Right,” I nodded.

“Alright then,” the Professor nodded back.

“What about the time you crash landed on Dagobah?” Hudson popped his head between the Professor and me.

I responded by shoving him by his forehead back into his seat.

“How long until we reach our destination?” Xavier asked.

“You know, it should only be an hour or so from your place to Pittsburg,” I answered. “Sure does seem like it’s taking forever, though.”

“Yeah, I hope we get there soon,” Hudson added. “Pittsburg’s a nice city. I can’t wait to get a delicious cheesesteak there.”

“Hudson,” the Professor replied. “You do realize that—”

“Don’t even bother, Professor,” I interrupted. “He’s on a roll.”

“Yeah, I remember the last time I flew out to Pittsburg from Texas.” The Colonial Marine leaned back with his hands behind his head. “The lady at the airport was really hot. Stacked, you know. So when I went up to her I accidentally said ‘Gimme two pickets to tittsburg.’ Oh man, what a day.”

“Really,” Xavier replied dryly.

“Yeah,” Hudson nodded numbly.

“Almost as funny as the first 40 times you said it on this trip,” I muttered back.