HELIPORT STORIES
The bomb was in the luggage, over where
they put the bags and parcels. Someone one
was transporting a dog, in a small, white
carry-kennel. The space looked like a carnival,
with things thrown all about. Fortunately for
all, those police-inspector guys found everything
in time. No they had to figure who did it.
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You know how crazy New Yorkers get, all pushy
and demanding? Sarcastic and sly as all get-out.
Imagine that here, times ten - these fancy, bitchy
ladies doing slaloms about the time they've lost;
instead of thanking their stinking asses for being
left still yes alive. Their wanky carcasses could
have been blown all over the harbor by now.
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Have you ever seen an airport security person in
one of those crummy uniforms? I'd have to say,
here, on a female they're really not that bad. In
fact, this lady inspector's getting me going. I'm
thinking she could inspect my package at will.
Is that too stupid and too foul? I wouldn't know.
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Anyway, I digress. Here the deal was fifteen people.
I guess set up for a commuter helicopter ride to
the Hamptons, or maybe to another airport, for a
plane - they were pulled back at the last moment
because of a report of a bomb in the luggage and
cargo space. Hmmm, isn't that odd, and I wonder
how it all came to be.
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