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9.12.11

Racing away





I follow Juan's aeroplane; we fly around and around Mount Assinboine until I realise that Juan doesn't know were we are going. It is pathetic, out mission is desperately urgent, we are huddrounishly behind schedule, heading in the wrong direction, in the wrong country, and Juan behaves like a stupid child. To compound his idiocy, when I try to fly over him to take the lead, he thinks I want a race, and flies up to block me. I can rely on Juan to act like a clown, but it is exasperating that he thinks that he can out-fly me, I feint to the right, dive to the left, invert, spin through the gap between his aeroplane and the cliff edges of Mount Assinboine, and race in front, yelling with excitement and waving my fists in the air. Fatty shouts that I am about to fly into the ground, I release smoke, to act as a smoke-screen, and yell at Fatty that I know what I am doing, I am trying to stop Juan from flying under us and taking the lead. As I say this, Juan roars overhead, dives in front of of, releases smoke, to obscure my vision, and spirals upward, giving me rude gestures from the cockpit. I catch up with Juan's aeroplane, we quickly fortify ourselves with flasks of Vintage Dalmore, Caperdonich, Glenlossie, and Edradour Private Reserve, then, snarling the Highland War into our radios and yelling with excitement and fear, we chase each other through the sky, as fast as we possibly can.

Professor Humperdink's Diary