For simplystars
Number Seven - Whimsy/ Reality
Ray cupped his hands around his mouth and cleared his throat. “When I said ‘Super Mountie’, I was being meteorological.”
“Metaphorical, Ray.” Fraser’s voice was muffled, coming, as it did, from inside quite a large crater.
Ray reached the edge of the crater and peered in. Thankfully, this time, it was fairly oval, rather than Mountie-shaped (and hadn’t that one been fun to explain?). Fraser was sitting up and had a large section of helicopter fuselage in one hand.
“Are you okay?”
Fraser looked around and carefully put the twisted sheet of metal down. “Perfectly fine, Ray. I was merely taken aback by the sudden yaw when I disabled the attitude mechanisms.”
“Right. Of course.” Ray stood back from the hole and waited for Fraser to climb up to the rim. He still had his hat on.
They turned as one to walk back towards the downed helicopter-in the middle of an expanse of otherwise bucolic park land-surrounded by crowds of both civilians and police officers. Many of them were theorizing over why the helicopter-piloted by a homicidal manic in a Nixon mask-had been forced to land when it had, to all accounts, been making a clean getaway.
“Fraser, buddy.” Ray slung one arm around Fraser’s somewhat dusty shoulder. “You and me? We gotta have a talk about being inconspicuous.”
Ray cupped his hands around his mouth and cleared his throat. “When I said ‘Super Mountie’, I was being meteorological.”
“Metaphorical, Ray.” Fraser’s voice was muffled, coming, as it did, from inside quite a large crater.
Ray reached the edge of the crater and peered in. Thankfully, this time, it was fairly oval, rather than Mountie-shaped (and hadn’t that one been fun to explain?). Fraser was sitting up and had a large section of helicopter fuselage in one hand.
“Are you okay?”
Fraser looked around and carefully put the twisted sheet of metal down. “Perfectly fine, Ray. I was merely taken aback by the sudden yaw when I disabled the attitude mechanisms.”
“Right. Of course.” Ray stood back from the hole and waited for Fraser to climb up to the rim. He still had his hat on.
They turned as one to walk back towards the downed helicopter-in the middle of an expanse of otherwise bucolic park land-surrounded by crowds of both civilians and police officers. Many of them were theorizing over why the helicopter-piloted by a homicidal manic in a Nixon mask-had been forced to land when it had, to all accounts, been making a clean getaway.
“Fraser, buddy.” Ray slung one arm around Fraser’s somewhat dusty shoulder. “You and me? We gotta have a talk about being inconspicuous.”