Post by Fiona McFly on Apr 17, 2017 2:40:25 GMT
11 March 2017 - 1:15 PM
In the skies above Pleasantville...
...we find Fiona McFly strapped into the smallish backseat of Captain Kirk Gaither's vintage World War II-era fighter plane, cruising along at a safe altitude of around 17,000 feet. She gripped tightly on the grab bars on the back of the elder Gaither's seat as he sharply maneuvered the craft to the left, banking at a 90-degree angle as he flew with great speed and dispatch over the grasslands between Cedar Hill and Midlothian.
Fiona had been on her fair share of roller-coasters before, this was more than, say, the Titan at Six Flags.
No, this was MUCH more dangerous in scope.
She only wanted to clear her mind, not focus too much on the small stuff that had come about from her impending wedding and, most importantly, helping mentor Regina Kimble in her struggles against breast cancer.
Yet the good naval captain couldn't help but giggle. He flew several different planes throughout his career, including the famous F-14, but this old girl from the European Theater of the Second World War was his favorite. He bobbed the controls forwards and backwards, sending the plane down and up, up and down--like bunny hills on the aforementioned fun park attraction.
CAPTAIN KIRK GAITHER: (singing off-key) "I'd sit alone and watch your light...my only friend through teenage nights. And everything I had to know...I heard it on my radio..."
Feeling the negative Gs, Fiona's eyes widened at the unexpected, HORRIFIC singing of Queen's "Radio Ga-Ga."
FIONA MCFLY: Oh dear...
KIRK: (singing off-key) "You gave them all those old-time stars, through wars of words invaded by Mars..."
Kirk laughed out loud as he turned his head slightly towards the back.
KIRK: Gettin sickly back there, Miss Fiona?
She tried to deny it by shaking her head, but in her mind, Fiona felt as if she was about to puke.
KIRK: I thought so...BARREL ROLL!!!
The aircraft launched into two 360-degree rolls, one after the other, prompting McFly to squeal like a kid riding a scary ride for the first time ever.
FIONA: It's not that I don't like flying...I love flying but what you're doing is suicide!!
Gaither smirked from ear to ear as he pulled the stick back.
KIRK: LOOP-DEE-LOOOOOP!!!!!!
The old prop-machine lurched backwards until it went completely vertical, eventually going upside-down for a moment before zipping back down towards the ground and right-side up. Fiona closed her eyes, using her hands to try and locate a barf-bag but to no avail.
KIRK: (singing off-key) "All we hear is radio ga-ga, radio blah-blah. Radio, what's new? Radio...someone still loves you..."
FIONA: You are no Freddie...sir.
KIRK: Pfffft...if ya say so--POWER DIIIIIIVE!!!!!
"Fuck me...," the Northern Irishwoman thought to herself as he eyes clamped shut once more, the plane twisting until it was completely inverted. She didn't want to watch as the veteran pilot pulled his joystick back, sending the antiquated fighter whizzing towards the open fields in a bit of a dive loop, finishing the move off in style with a third barrel roll. Gaither cackled with delight, his fun over for the day, and set course for his personal airstrip.
KIRK: How're ya feelin' back there?!
Fiona breathed heavily, as if she had gotten off a theme park attraction that scared her to death. All she wanted to do was spend a day relaxing and getting massage treatments in an establishment located out in the middle of nowhere...
...yet deep in her soul, she never realized she'd get more than what was advertised.
She had found herself having fun.
FIONA: I'd like to keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you.
Dear Alicia...
So...the cat has been let out of the bag.
All Twitter debates aside, I knew Spike Kane was a bit of a weird guy and all, but I didn't expect him to inadvertently admit that he IS, in fact, training Pandora Freeman. I mean...I'm pretty sure she thought sticking her tongue down my throat was cute and all, that she just happened to do it on the spur of the moment, but darling...it doesn't matter what starts a chain, sooner of later a singular action can escalate into corruption and violence VERY quickly.
And quite frankly dear...I see through that nerdity and cuteness.
I see a personality who's willing to work with the Devil Incarnate himself in order to reach the top of the heap.
Now that's out of the way, seems like this week the brass has decided to pit you, a newcomer to IWF's Diamonds division, against me in a singles match. Not only that...it seems like you and I are supposed to square off in that Iron Maiden loser's battle royale in the programme as well. It appears as if my journey towards reclaiming my RIGHTFUL standing in the Diamonds has gotten a little tougher than I anticipated, but I KNOW it can be done--and it WILL be done.
Think about it...we're both pulling double-duty, right?
So here's the question...which one would you choose--beating me one-on-one, or earning a spot in the Iron Maiden?
Close your eyes, look inside your soul...and reflect for a moment. You can either go into the battle royal with a head-full of steam, where a winner can't be predicted, and you can rise above the rest yet not have enough energy and focus to step back into that ring and get me. Or...you can take the piss on the battle royal and TRY as you might to defeat me in singles competition, where nothing else except a giant mug of Earl Grey and bragging rights being put on the line.
Perhaps....you think can surpass me in both--like having two slices of different-flavoured pie on one plate?
Newsflash lovely...it's not going to happen.
So think logically, okay? I've got more energy and resilience than you'll EVER have, and I proved it to the entire world in 2016 despite the trolls telling me I couldn't do the unthinkable. I WON last year's Iron Maiden when nobody else thought I would do so, and I will make my mark on this year's Iron Maiden at your expense. Then, if your resolve holds, I shall give you a more "proper" welcome into the Diamonds division by knocking you arse-over-tit so hard, that Pan herself is going to feel it. 'Cos I've got some things I want to finish, things I left unwritten...and I'll be damned if I let everything I worked for slip away 'cos of one simple smooch...
...trust me. So bring that arrogant smirk, that reputation for pissing people off to the ring...
...I'll wipe both of them away from you faster than you can say "Ready Freddie."
Cheers!
In the skies above Pleasantville...
...we find Fiona McFly strapped into the smallish backseat of Captain Kirk Gaither's vintage World War II-era fighter plane, cruising along at a safe altitude of around 17,000 feet. She gripped tightly on the grab bars on the back of the elder Gaither's seat as he sharply maneuvered the craft to the left, banking at a 90-degree angle as he flew with great speed and dispatch over the grasslands between Cedar Hill and Midlothian.
Fiona had been on her fair share of roller-coasters before, this was more than, say, the Titan at Six Flags.
No, this was MUCH more dangerous in scope.
She only wanted to clear her mind, not focus too much on the small stuff that had come about from her impending wedding and, most importantly, helping mentor Regina Kimble in her struggles against breast cancer.
Yet the good naval captain couldn't help but giggle. He flew several different planes throughout his career, including the famous F-14, but this old girl from the European Theater of the Second World War was his favorite. He bobbed the controls forwards and backwards, sending the plane down and up, up and down--like bunny hills on the aforementioned fun park attraction.
CAPTAIN KIRK GAITHER: (singing off-key) "I'd sit alone and watch your light...my only friend through teenage nights. And everything I had to know...I heard it on my radio..."
Feeling the negative Gs, Fiona's eyes widened at the unexpected, HORRIFIC singing of Queen's "Radio Ga-Ga."
FIONA MCFLY: Oh dear...
KIRK: (singing off-key) "You gave them all those old-time stars, through wars of words invaded by Mars..."
Kirk laughed out loud as he turned his head slightly towards the back.
KIRK: Gettin sickly back there, Miss Fiona?
She tried to deny it by shaking her head, but in her mind, Fiona felt as if she was about to puke.
KIRK: I thought so...BARREL ROLL!!!
The aircraft launched into two 360-degree rolls, one after the other, prompting McFly to squeal like a kid riding a scary ride for the first time ever.
FIONA: It's not that I don't like flying...I love flying but what you're doing is suicide!!
Gaither smirked from ear to ear as he pulled the stick back.
KIRK: LOOP-DEE-LOOOOOP!!!!!!
The old prop-machine lurched backwards until it went completely vertical, eventually going upside-down for a moment before zipping back down towards the ground and right-side up. Fiona closed her eyes, using her hands to try and locate a barf-bag but to no avail.
KIRK: (singing off-key) "All we hear is radio ga-ga, radio blah-blah. Radio, what's new? Radio...someone still loves you..."
FIONA: You are no Freddie...sir.
KIRK: Pfffft...if ya say so--POWER DIIIIIIVE!!!!!
"Fuck me...," the Northern Irishwoman thought to herself as he eyes clamped shut once more, the plane twisting until it was completely inverted. She didn't want to watch as the veteran pilot pulled his joystick back, sending the antiquated fighter whizzing towards the open fields in a bit of a dive loop, finishing the move off in style with a third barrel roll. Gaither cackled with delight, his fun over for the day, and set course for his personal airstrip.
KIRK: How're ya feelin' back there?!
Fiona breathed heavily, as if she had gotten off a theme park attraction that scared her to death. All she wanted to do was spend a day relaxing and getting massage treatments in an establishment located out in the middle of nowhere...
...yet deep in her soul, she never realized she'd get more than what was advertised.
She had found herself having fun.
FIONA: I'd like to keep my feet firmly on the ground, thank you.
~TO BE CONCLUDED~
~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~
Dear Alicia...
So...the cat has been let out of the bag.
All Twitter debates aside, I knew Spike Kane was a bit of a weird guy and all, but I didn't expect him to inadvertently admit that he IS, in fact, training Pandora Freeman. I mean...I'm pretty sure she thought sticking her tongue down my throat was cute and all, that she just happened to do it on the spur of the moment, but darling...it doesn't matter what starts a chain, sooner of later a singular action can escalate into corruption and violence VERY quickly.
And quite frankly dear...I see through that nerdity and cuteness.
I see a personality who's willing to work with the Devil Incarnate himself in order to reach the top of the heap.
Now that's out of the way, seems like this week the brass has decided to pit you, a newcomer to IWF's Diamonds division, against me in a singles match. Not only that...it seems like you and I are supposed to square off in that Iron Maiden loser's battle royale in the programme as well. It appears as if my journey towards reclaiming my RIGHTFUL standing in the Diamonds has gotten a little tougher than I anticipated, but I KNOW it can be done--and it WILL be done.
Think about it...we're both pulling double-duty, right?
So here's the question...which one would you choose--beating me one-on-one, or earning a spot in the Iron Maiden?
Close your eyes, look inside your soul...and reflect for a moment. You can either go into the battle royal with a head-full of steam, where a winner can't be predicted, and you can rise above the rest yet not have enough energy and focus to step back into that ring and get me. Or...you can take the piss on the battle royal and TRY as you might to defeat me in singles competition, where nothing else except a giant mug of Earl Grey and bragging rights being put on the line.
Perhaps....you think can surpass me in both--like having two slices of different-flavoured pie on one plate?
Newsflash lovely...it's not going to happen.
So think logically, okay? I've got more energy and resilience than you'll EVER have, and I proved it to the entire world in 2016 despite the trolls telling me I couldn't do the unthinkable. I WON last year's Iron Maiden when nobody else thought I would do so, and I will make my mark on this year's Iron Maiden at your expense. Then, if your resolve holds, I shall give you a more "proper" welcome into the Diamonds division by knocking you arse-over-tit so hard, that Pan herself is going to feel it. 'Cos I've got some things I want to finish, things I left unwritten...and I'll be damned if I let everything I worked for slip away 'cos of one simple smooch...
...trust me. So bring that arrogant smirk, that reputation for pissing people off to the ring...
...I'll wipe both of them away from you faster than you can say "Ready Freddie."
Cheers!
Well howdy there pardner.