Post by Fiona McFly on Aug 29, 2018 6:01:02 GMT
OOC Disclaimer: This is the third chapter in the series; I'll finish the second one when I get more writing energy. Pretend that this episode aired out of order due to a network preemption. 
~~~~~
Chapter III
âPAST PROLOGUEâ
On a plot of land in the Texas Hill Country named Ridley AirfieldâŚ
...the stars were out, and the wind was calm.
Sporting a Dallas Cowboys cap and Dak Prescott jersey, a 35-year-old man sat alone in a two-story control tower and office, checking through a daily logbook of the flights that have taken off and landed on the gravel runway. It was just another quiet night on the old Ridley Airfield, and the man outstretched his arms, preparing himself to go to bed in the house located next to the tower. A radio played softly as he took his last sip from a bottle of real-sugar Dr. Pepper and tossed it into a recycling bin.
âSo take me away,
I donât mind.
But youâd better promise me,
Iâll be back in time!
Gotta get back in time
Gotta get back in time
Gotta get back in time
Get me back in timeâŚ
The GRRRRR-eatest hits from the 70s âtil today, serving Austin and the Texas Hill Country! 95.5-FM, K-K-M-J!
Jack Gaither Chevrolet of Fredericksburg proudly presents...(DING-DING-DING!!!)...our annual Slammin' September Sale! Come on down and take a look-see at our fabulous selection of all-new 2018 Chevy cars and trucks. Act fast and get them boots on the ground 'cause the 2019s are rollin' in with a vengeance...â
Just as the man started to log out for the night, a flash of white light enveloped the tower followed by a Terrafugia Transition âflying carâ seemingly buzzing the tower from out of nowhere.
At first, he thought it was a bolt of lightning from a common Texas summer thunderstorm, but he soon realised that no rain had been in the forecast for quite some time.
âWhat in the Sam Hill!?!â
The whole structure rumbled as he looked out the window; in his mind, it was a one-in-a-million sighting that he would never forget. He observerd intently as the aircraft made a sharp turn-around clockwise before landing violently on the runway, deploying its emergency parachutes, and eventually careening into a metal barn-like building used for regular maintenance and repairs at a high rate of speed.
âGood gosh almighty...not AGAIN!!!â
The man gritted his teeth, for it wasn't the first time a pilot had come in for a landing too hot and crashed. He sprang into action, racing down the flight of stairs and onto the field. Huffing and puffing the whole time, the man ran towards the end of the runway, where the barn stood, and crept inside. He paused to catch his breath for a moment before looking up at the Falcon, which has come to a stop amidst of bevy of boxes, parts, and other things with its rainbow-hued emergency parachutes deployed on the tail.
Muttering to himself, the man walked up to the left side of the craft and opened the cockpit door. He gasped as he saw the stricken form of the elder Fiona McFly, her head lying against the interior airbags that had been activated by the impact.
âMaâam?! Maâam, are you alright!?!â
He shook the pilot, trying to get her to wake up, but the stress of the âjourneyâ had knocked her out cold. The man, named Andy Weaver, pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, and after a few seconds, we hear a faint âAndy?â on the other end of the line.
ANDY WEAVER:
BONNIE!!! Quit watchin' your gawl-DERN Fake News CNN, c'mon down here to the hangar, and help me get this KO'd pilot into the house! We have another dad-gummed plane crash...
Within a minute or two of the disaster, Andyâs wife and airfield co-owner Bonnie raced onto the sceneâŚ
âMom! Dad!! What the heck is goinâ on!?!â
...along with a young teenaged girl wearing pink sleeping clothes. Andy immediately held his hand back, preventing the 14-year-old from getting any closer.
ANDY:
Oh Nikki, ya gotta get to bed so ya can go to school in the morninâ! Wouldnât wanna miss your first day as a freshman, right?!
BONNIE WEAVER:
(chuckling)
Now-now Andy, I bet you sheâs as curious as we are over whatâs goinâ on. By the way...I was watchin' Fox News. Tucker Carlson is such a hunk...
ANDY:
Pffft, riiiiight...not as hunky as I am. Oh well, Nikki can help ya get this old-timerâs stuff brought in.
Nikki smiled.
YOUNG NIKKI WEAVER:
Yippee! Iâll carry in the briefcase.
BONNIE:
Iâve got her rollinâ luggage bag!
Andy grumbled as he picked up Old Fionaâs lifeless body and hoisted her over his broad shoulder. Bonnie followed her husband as they headed back towards the house, but the 9th grader would stay behind. Her eyebrows perked up in curiosity as she peeked inside the cockpit, and what she would see on the computer monitor would leave her speechless in amazement.
DESTINATION:
CURRENT: 22 AUG. 2018 + 2330 GMT + Fredericksburg, TX, USA
PREVIOUS: 16 AUG. 2058 + 1435 GMT + Washington, DC, USA
Young Nikkiâs lips quivered in delight as she rummaged through the cockpit, searching for anything else that mightâve been left behind...
YOUNG NIKKI:
(muttering in astonishment)
Oh my gosh...this is, like, totally rad! But, but...all my friends will laugh at me if I put this on Facebook!
BONNIE:
(from a distance)
NIKKI! Weâre waitinâ on you hunny!!
...but the sound of her motherâs voice put an end to any form of extended curiosity she might have had...at least for now. After taking a selfie with the computer's display in the background, she grabbed the briefcase, shut down the computer, closed the door, and headed toward the house. Yet deep down, she hid a very mischievous smirk on her face as she skipped along the ground and hummed a tune.
She had figured out the old womanâs secret--and that the Falconâs time core had, indeed, worked beyond anyone's expectations.
Yet the plucky high-schooler took a silent, solemn vow to keep her discovery to herself.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~~~
Chapter III
âPAST PROLOGUEâ
On a plot of land in the Texas Hill Country named Ridley AirfieldâŚ
...the stars were out, and the wind was calm.
Sporting a Dallas Cowboys cap and Dak Prescott jersey, a 35-year-old man sat alone in a two-story control tower and office, checking through a daily logbook of the flights that have taken off and landed on the gravel runway. It was just another quiet night on the old Ridley Airfield, and the man outstretched his arms, preparing himself to go to bed in the house located next to the tower. A radio played softly as he took his last sip from a bottle of real-sugar Dr. Pepper and tossed it into a recycling bin.
âSo take me away,
I donât mind.
But youâd better promise me,
Iâll be back in time!
Gotta get back in time
Gotta get back in time
Gotta get back in time
Get me back in timeâŚ
The GRRRRR-eatest hits from the 70s âtil today, serving Austin and the Texas Hill Country! 95.5-FM, K-K-M-J!
Jack Gaither Chevrolet of Fredericksburg proudly presents...(DING-DING-DING!!!)...our annual Slammin' September Sale! Come on down and take a look-see at our fabulous selection of all-new 2018 Chevy cars and trucks. Act fast and get them boots on the ground 'cause the 2019s are rollin' in with a vengeance...â
Just as the man started to log out for the night, a flash of white light enveloped the tower followed by a Terrafugia Transition âflying carâ seemingly buzzing the tower from out of nowhere.
At first, he thought it was a bolt of lightning from a common Texas summer thunderstorm, but he soon realised that no rain had been in the forecast for quite some time.
âWhat in the Sam Hill!?!â
The whole structure rumbled as he looked out the window; in his mind, it was a one-in-a-million sighting that he would never forget. He observerd intently as the aircraft made a sharp turn-around clockwise before landing violently on the runway, deploying its emergency parachutes, and eventually careening into a metal barn-like building used for regular maintenance and repairs at a high rate of speed.
âGood gosh almighty...not AGAIN!!!â
The man gritted his teeth, for it wasn't the first time a pilot had come in for a landing too hot and crashed. He sprang into action, racing down the flight of stairs and onto the field. Huffing and puffing the whole time, the man ran towards the end of the runway, where the barn stood, and crept inside. He paused to catch his breath for a moment before looking up at the Falcon, which has come to a stop amidst of bevy of boxes, parts, and other things with its rainbow-hued emergency parachutes deployed on the tail.
Muttering to himself, the man walked up to the left side of the craft and opened the cockpit door. He gasped as he saw the stricken form of the elder Fiona McFly, her head lying against the interior airbags that had been activated by the impact.
âMaâam?! Maâam, are you alright!?!â
He shook the pilot, trying to get her to wake up, but the stress of the âjourneyâ had knocked her out cold. The man, named Andy Weaver, pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, and after a few seconds, we hear a faint âAndy?â on the other end of the line.
ANDY WEAVER:
BONNIE!!! Quit watchin' your gawl-DERN Fake News CNN, c'mon down here to the hangar, and help me get this KO'd pilot into the house! We have another dad-gummed plane crash...
Within a minute or two of the disaster, Andyâs wife and airfield co-owner Bonnie raced onto the sceneâŚ
âMom! Dad!! What the heck is goinâ on!?!â
...along with a young teenaged girl wearing pink sleeping clothes. Andy immediately held his hand back, preventing the 14-year-old from getting any closer.
ANDY:
Oh Nikki, ya gotta get to bed so ya can go to school in the morninâ! Wouldnât wanna miss your first day as a freshman, right?!
BONNIE WEAVER:
(chuckling)
Now-now Andy, I bet you sheâs as curious as we are over whatâs goinâ on. By the way...I was watchin' Fox News. Tucker Carlson is such a hunk...
ANDY:
Pffft, riiiiight...not as hunky as I am. Oh well, Nikki can help ya get this old-timerâs stuff brought in.
Nikki smiled.
YOUNG NIKKI WEAVER:
Yippee! Iâll carry in the briefcase.
BONNIE:
Iâve got her rollinâ luggage bag!
Andy grumbled as he picked up Old Fionaâs lifeless body and hoisted her over his broad shoulder. Bonnie followed her husband as they headed back towards the house, but the 9th grader would stay behind. Her eyebrows perked up in curiosity as she peeked inside the cockpit, and what she would see on the computer monitor would leave her speechless in amazement.
DESTINATION:
CURRENT: 22 AUG. 2018 + 2330 GMT + Fredericksburg, TX, USA
PREVIOUS: 16 AUG. 2058 + 1435 GMT + Washington, DC, USA
Young Nikkiâs lips quivered in delight as she rummaged through the cockpit, searching for anything else that mightâve been left behind...
YOUNG NIKKI:
(muttering in astonishment)
Oh my gosh...this is, like, totally rad! But, but...all my friends will laugh at me if I put this on Facebook!
BONNIE:
(from a distance)
NIKKI! Weâre waitinâ on you hunny!!
...but the sound of her motherâs voice put an end to any form of extended curiosity she might have had...at least for now. After taking a selfie with the computer's display in the background, she grabbed the briefcase, shut down the computer, closed the door, and headed toward the house. Yet deep down, she hid a very mischievous smirk on her face as she skipped along the ground and hummed a tune.
She had figured out the old womanâs secret--and that the Falconâs time core had, indeed, worked beyond anyone's expectations.
Yet the plucky high-schooler took a silent, solemn vow to keep her discovery to herself.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
Well howdy there pardner.