Sardines on an Airplane (Part 4)

I woke up to the musty stench of urine surrounding me. I checked my watch and realized that I'd been out for over an hour. I also realized that my right eye was horrifically swollen. It throbbed with pain, but my pride was far more damaged than my eye socket. I feared that this brutal man had surely damaged my self-esteem indefinitely. I wanted quick and terrible revenge and I pictured myself jabbing both my thumbs into the sleeping man's sockets and pressing with all my might until his eyeballs disappeared into the depths of his skull. Unfortunately, I was unable to summon the courage to do anything of the sort. I couldn't even bring myself to wake him and give him the sound verbal thrashing that he so greatly deserved.

To my further dismay, I realized that as he slept, his head had rolled to the side and was now resting on my shoulder, his mouth gaping open, sucking in air like a dying fish. Drool from his lips was gushing down upon my shoulder and seeping down my chest. His spit smelled like curdled milk and baby poop and I feared that I would soon need to vomit once again. I held back only because of the fact that I had stupidly used both doggy bags earlier in the flight. With a scowl, I pulled out another tin of sardines and cracked it open.

As I enjoyed the delicious fish planks soaked in hot sauce, I noticed a small baby peering back at me from between the seats. He was smiling joyfully and waved at me with a pudgy hand that looked as if it belonged to some cave-dwelling troll. I gave him a friendly hello and continued scooping sardines into my mouth.

"What a quiet, well-behaved child you are!" I said with approval, munching happily on my spicy sardines. "Most children on long flights are outrageously loud and obnoxious but you have changed my opinion and made me see children in a whole new light!"

The infant responded with a giggle and extended his fat little paw, eying my sardines hungrily.
"Would you like some of my scrumptious seafood, you little scamp?" I questioned in amusement.
I knew in my heart that this small child had probably never sampled the delights of the sea and I figured I'd be the one to introduce him. This would no doubt be the best food-related experience of the child's life.

I grabbed a sizable hunk of sardine and dipped it generously in the spicy sauce that coated the bottom of the tin. Then I graciously offered it to the baby. I'm truly a wonderful man, but even I surprise myself sometimes.

The baby snatched the fish and crammed it into his mouth greedily. This poor child's parents no doubt clearly neglected to feed him with any regularity at all. The baby chewed for several seconds with a giggle, then froze and a horrified expression spread across his fat face. I observed tears welling up in his eyes and his face turned a bright shade of red.

Suddenly, the child erupted into a hysteric fit of shrill screaming, the half-chewed fish tumbling out of his mouth. His mother immediately sat up and attempted to console the infant, trying desperately to figure out what was wrong with her previously peaceful child. With the quickness of a feline, I tossed the half-empty tin of sardines over my left shoulder, sat back in my seat, and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I ignored the cries of the passenger behind me who was now surely soaked in spicy sardine-like goodness.

For what seemed like hours, the irate infant shrieked at the top of his lungs, no doubt waking every last passenger aboard who was sleeping. The young rapscallion hardly even paused to take breaths. His mother deserved a crisp facial smacking for allowing such behavior but she was already in tears, so I mercifully let her parental indiscretions slide. Fortunately, the muscular beast seated next to me slept through the whole thing, his headphones blaring some type of atrocious music into his ear canals.

My mind felt as if it were about to erupt from my skull. The terrible spawn's screams became louder and louder. The muscle-bound man beside me was still spewing drool onto my already soaked torso. I was trapped against a window that converted to an emergency door. I reeked of urine, vomit, drool, sardines, sweat, and old booze. I desperately needed some sweet alcoholic relief.

Before I knew what was happening, I'd flown over the muscular asshole into the isle and was bellowing and flailing my arms wildly. I lost complete control of my mind and body and the sounds coming from my reeking mouth were the sounds of a soul that's surely been possessed. Suddenly, a flight attendant grabbed my arm, begging me to calm down and reseat myself. I roared and heaved her away from me, her body crashing onto several elderly women who were drinking coffee in their seats across the isle. Another stewardess approached me and I charged her, my head down like a Brahma bull.

The top of my skull thudded into her weak stomach and I felt the air leave her body. She crumpled backward into the drink cart, sending tasty chilled beverages in all directions. The intercom overhead crackled..
"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm and seated with your seatbelts securely fastened. We are in the process of resolving the issue. I repeat, please remain calm."
I tore my musty shirt from my body and began whipping the mother of the infant with the soiled cloth while shouting incoherent insults at her hysteric baby.

Suddenly, in my blind rage, I noticed a man approaching me from the front of the airplane. He was wearing an pilot's uniform and carried a small canister in one hand. I deduced that this was the copilot, surely coming to eject the mother and her insane baby.

"Sir, I'm going to need you to settle down and take your seat immediately or you will have to be forcibly subdued." The copilot pleaded.

I was shocked and devastated. I assumed this man was on my side!
"You fool!!! How dare you take the side of such infidels!" I screamed, tears of rage pouring from my swollen sockets, "Don't you realize that these individuals are attempting to bring down this aircraft and snuff out the lives of every last passenger on board?!?!"

"Sir, this is your last warning! Be quiet and take your seat or I will have to take drastic action!" the pathetic copilot droned. His useless threats meant nothing to me and I knew that I must surely destroy this man.

"Drastic action has already been taken, you pathetic slave!!" I roared, lunging at him.

All at once, I saw him raise the small canister to eye level and a blinding pain coursed through my eyes, nose, and throat.
I'd been maced several times before, but I'd always been too intoxicated to notice or care. This time, however, every one of my pain receptors was fully aware and functional and I screamed and clawed at my eyes. I wildly turned and went storming through the plane like a dying rabid ox, screaming in agony and soiling myself multiple times, my hands covering my eyes. The minuscule part of my brain that was still sane and functional hoped to God that old Uncle Fitz was happy with what he'd done. Then I felt a sharp crashing blow on the back of my head and I went down hard like a massive tree in the forest. My world went black.

~*~

I sat in the holding cell with thoughts of rage and vengeance pulsing through my head painfully. I was in rough shape. My eyes were swollen and throbbing. The back of my head had a lump the size of the muscular man's bicep. My shirt was gone and there were scrapes and cuts covering my pale torso. At least the stench resonating from my body was enough to keep the officers of the law at a safe distance. Apparently, during my unconsciousness, the pilot had made an emergency landing in Chicago to let me and several other injured individuals off the plane.

A younger officer approached my cell nervously. He'd apparently heard of my antics and feared for his own safety. He was indeed wise for his age.

"Sir, you are allowed to make one phone call. This way please."
The officer unlocked the cell and lead me down a white corridor to a room that contained nothing but a small table with a telephone. Relieved, I sat down at the table and dialed my mother's cell phone number.

"Son! I'm so glad you called!" she said worriedly when she heard my voice. "We were worried when you didn't get off the plane this morning! I have great news though!"

"Oh yeah?", I said with little enthusiasm.

"Your dear old Uncle Fitz has made a miraculous recovery! Doctors say he's as healthy as a horse!"

"That's just fantastic." I said with a grimace and pulled out another can of sardines, opening it crisply.