Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Jacques Chitte who wrote (8587)	3/6/1998 5:33:00 PM
From: Jacques Chitte	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 71178

The Citation sparkled at the end of the runway, in stark contrast to the vague silhouettes of salvage-yard hulks surrounding it. The sky, which had been a bright overcast until minutes ago, had darkened, and now a light drizzle fell on the airstrip. Rambi gave the jet a quick but complete preflight, then had the Zombies stack the chocks in a corner. Bub, Rambi and the Zombies climbed into the front of the gleaming white plane. Zombie 5 pulled up the door with its inset stairway. Rambi sat in the left-hand seat and threw switches. Bub pulled the fat black map case out from the stowage compartment in the right seat. A jet engine started with its signature rising howl. Rambi checked the instruments, nodded in satisfaction, and started the other engine. Bub donned a headset and got on the horn with Air Traffic, then filed a flight plan for Rio de Janeiro. In the back, the Zombies were removing their black outer garments and stretching out in the seats. The one known as Two began telling lengthy tales of his hair-raising exploits in the jungle. Every third word was a term of... extreme emphasis. Rambi could take this no more and advised Two over the intercom: watch your ***** mouth, or get the out and ***** walk. Three rooted in his pack, popped a bag of Chee-Tos, declared them "most wickedly gnarly", and started chowing. He offered them to the duo in the pilots' seats. Rambi wrinkled her patrician nose. Bub accepted with evident enthusiasm. Zombie Five was already snoring. Bub and Rambi compared checklists. They agreed on the results. Rambi killed the brakes, eased the throttles to full power, and made sure one last time that trim, flaps, and slats were properly configured. The jet roared a kindred farewell to the huge flightless birds in the surrounding swamp, picked up speed, and tipped its nose into the air. It was not one hundred feet off the ground when it faded into low cloud.