Beware of the Bug (IWBTM)

Hey guys,
Beware of this new strain of spring-time bug that's going around.
Here's what happened to a guy that got it.

Intoxicating Wild Blue Temporary Madness

He knew it was foolish. He knew it was dumb. But it was just that
kind of new spring day when the flower pistils squirted into the air
and made everybody a little bit giddy. It was a drop-dead gorgeous
day. Spring had sprung. And here he was. Zipping along in his
favorite little flying machine. In this big beautiful Blue sky. He
was current and qualified. He was a good pilot. What was worse is
that he knew it!

Now he would have behaved himself. He would have been happy just
cutting up those poofy little springtime clouds with his propeller,
doing a little celebratory acro and just going home. But those
pheromones were blowing around on the hillsides and it just made him
loose his blessed mind for a minute. Because there down below him,
just asking for it, was a ripe little target.

"No. I mustn't," he murmured in protest. But the apple of his eye
was begging him to respond. It was a target so inviting, he just had
to at least permit the thought to intoxicate him for a minute. Was he
going to do it? A chill ran down his spine, and then a wicked thin
little smile crept across his normally serious face. He suddenly
fancied himself as the ace: and that is probably, in retrospect, what
did it. Though he was not really aware of it, as his palm caressed
the throttle and his feet played with the rudder pedals, the
transformation from mild-mannered GA pilot to wartime daredevil had
already begun.

He tried to stop it. "No, I shouldn't" but then the laughter took
over. "Bwa ha HA HA HA ….BWAHAHAHAHA!" as he peered down over his
shoulder through two little slits on his dastardly face. And that's
when he lost all perspective and rolled upside down to better view his
victims. He stared at them with utter contempt, the way a true skygod
like him would.

"You pathetic little earthlings" he hissed as the airspeed picked up
and he rolled level keeping them dead in the spinner. Adrenaline was
shooting through him now, not because he didn't know the outcome but
because his numbers were the big kind.

Oh Yeah, Oh Yeah,

HA HA HA HA HA!

pulls back firmly on the yoke/stick

"point the tail at them, that's it, that's it."

And then the madness left him just as rapidly as it had come. He
climbed back up, trimmed up his little flying machine, and headed home
for supper. He was cured.

pacplyer