3 am Suddenly awake. Screaming. Sweating. I had had a terrible dream. I had been on a plane with a terrorist. I could tell he was a terrorist due to the fact he had a towel on his head. The scene dissolved into that of a sauna. What am I doing in a sauna with a terrorist? I slap myself. Again. Harder. I’m awake. Calm. I calmly take out the Walther PPK out from under my pillow, calmy. With calmness I stroke it. Sleep comes back to me.
7:37 am I’ve been staring into the mirror for half an hour now. Pondering. Pondering my fate. Obviously it’s my destiny to save New Zealand from the terrorists… But how? I know. I’ll write an expose for New Zealand’s most highly regarded and truthful publication: Investigate. I scratch my chin, maybe I should shave this beard.
8:42 am I decided to research the terrorist threat. I read somewhere that terrorists preferred mode of transportation is by plane. Using my Parliamentary perks I demanded a seat on an already full Air New Zealand flight. The hostess was suspiciously dark skinned. “Are you a terrorist?” I asked. She smiled weakly and said “Have a good flight Mr Prosser.”
9:03 am take off went smoothly. Oh an announcement. Bing bong. “Hi passengers, this is your Captain Abdullah Abdullah Mohammed and welcome aboard this Air Allah Flight to Wogistan. We’re…”
“What sorcery is this?!” I yell.
As my fellow passengers turn around I realise: they’re all men… and they all look like… terrorists! I calmly sit down, thinking of my Walther PPK. Wishing I had it in my hands now.
9:28 am I have fashioned a mask out of two in-flight magazines called Forty Virgins. Things are going to get dicey when we touch down in Wogistan.
10:58 am We’re still flying. Ate a halal sandwich. Luckily I had some leftover luncheon ham in my pocket to slap on the sammy.
11:32 am Still flying.
1:28 pm We just touched down. Give me strength.