Not seeing Lola in heaven seemed unbearable to Nick. Then with the help of his pastor, he recognized even though he loved his pet fervidly, he could not lead a pet-centered life, his life needed to be Christ centered. He immediately started applying this towards mountain biking, his family, friends, job, alcohol, sex and money—making Christ the center of his life.
He was brought back from his thoughts by the yipping yellow dog in the row next to him.
Yip…yip…yip, the Pomeranian let out another high-pitched rapid succession of barking.
He heard and felt the giant dog standing up, taking calculated steps, tramping toward the sound coming from the row next to him. Nick didn’t blink an eyelash. The dog was covered in coagulated blood, making his silver fur appear as black as the Angel of Death. The dog sniffed at the air, inhaling Nick’s anxiety. It looked at Nick with its flaming amber eyes. Nick turned his eyeballs to look away, out the window at the blue beyond. He could feel the dog’s lumbering movements and hear its heavy breathing as it returned to the guard position next to the body of its owner.
Nick took a shallow breath of air and looked over at the man across the aisle with the ponytail and the missing face.
“Shut your dog up Max!” Nick hissed through his teeth.
The man’s blond wife bent forward to look at him with loathing.
He watched her lean close to the carrier and begin speaking in hushed tones to the frightened dog, “Brunny please be quiet…baby…sweet Brunny please.”
Yip…yip…yip! The dog barked in response to her coddling.
Nick, in blind haste, with zero thought of the consequences, un-lodged his body from his frozen position and reached his torso across the aisle to snatch the dog carrier by the handle. With brute strength Nick flung the cage with the whimpering Pomeranian towards the front of the plane.
“Nooo!” The bird-like woman screamed.
Her hands were desperately grasping at the empty air in disbelief at Nick’s unforgivable action. The kennel flew down the aisle landing with a clump near the second row of seats. Nick turned his own shocked gaze from the blond bird-like woman to peer up the aisle at the little dog barking wildly in its cage.
Yip…yip…yip!
The cage stood upright between the first and second rows of coach, the right side was occupied by a vixen in black boots, now staring back at him with a look of abhorrence. And on the left side, he held the gaze of a black man, with rage in his eyes. Both passengers were focused on Nick, not on the little dog barking between them, but on Nick’s demonic actions.
“Watch out!” The black man yelled.
The impact felt like being hit by a lightning bolt. He stumbled forward landing chest first on the aisle floor. The bottom half of Nick’s body now partially covered the small boy’s corpse. The massive dog landed on his back, punching the breath out of him. He felt the canine’s razor-sharp teeth ripping into the back of his muscular neck, slicing his flesh with its sharp fangs.
“Help me Jesus!” He screamed out to the silent airplane.
He felt the dog let up and then sink its teeth back into the side of his neck to release his jugular vein. He was drowning in the warm liquid as he sputtered for air.
Nick mouthed the bloody words, “Go to Hell, dog.”
With his final thought, he realized he had no idea if dogs went to Hell or not?
29 Margot Melton
The little dog carrier slammed down next to her. The shock almost caused Margot to jump out of her boots with panic. Margot twisted her body to face what was happening behind her and to see who had thrown the small dog. The black father sitting across the aisle had already turned towards the back of the plane.
He then yelled to the ginger meathead, “Watch out!”
She watched as the vicious snarling Pitbull rammed the muscular guy. He crashed onto the aisle floor, landing on top of the dead child. The dog took a deep breath and resumed attacking the man’s thick beefy neck for the ultimate kill. When the dog lifted its giant head, its muzzle was covered in blood and flesh. Margot was shocked to see a twinkling gold cross was dangling by a chain from the beast’s heaving mouth. #HolyChrist
“Don’t go there,” she whispered.
The vicious dog in front of her looked just like her family Blue Nose Pitbull, Hugo, minus the gore and the snarling.
The DGT secret memory cursed Margot. She had been sitting on the back patio, soaking up the hot sun, relaxing on the yellow padded lawn chair next to the perfect peanut shaped pool. She nibbled on a #peanutbutterandjelly sandwich with the crusts removed. A glob of the peanut butter, and a dab of jelly landed on her sun kissed inner thigh.
Hugo had been watching her eat the sandwich with an intense desire. He licked his slobbery chops.
She didn’t have a napkin.
“Here Hugo...lick it off me,” she invited, as she spread her legs to offer him a taste.
Hugo stood at attention, and sauntered over to her, his nut sack squeezed tight between his muscular legs. He licked the sweet, salty goo slowly off her and then began to push greedily for more. His tongue tickled. She giggled. A little more dropped off the sandwich higher up the thigh. He lapped it up with glee; his tail wagged with satisfaction as he pushed himself in towards her. #screwthepooch
What gives you pleasure can thus take it away, she thought about the likelihood of being mauled or killed now that the small barking dog was in such proximity.
Yip…yip…yip, the poufy dog barked wildly, yip…yip…yip!
She heard the monster’s weight slowly pounding down the aisle towards the tiny dog barking next to her—towards her. Its lumbering black-crusted frame came into her sight. It didn’t seem to be in a hurry. It pawed the small dog kennel. Knocking the crate nearly a foot back.
Yip…yip…yip, the little dog barked and started a high-pitched whine.
She knew the big dog was named Buster. Margot had heard the old woman shout the name out before the bullet from the cop’s gun had silenced her. Buster let out a rumbling growl. Then began shaking the cage, by grabbing the front metal door with his massive teeth and tossing it back and forth. As the giant dog’s head shook the cage, splatters of blood and saliva were flung across the cabin, splattering Margot’s arms and face. The little dog was crying out in fear and pain. #BoneBuster
Her heart was thumping so hard she was sure the dog could hear it.
The dog seemingly preoccupied continued to violently thrash the kennel. The cage painfully knocked into her arm causing her to flinch—careful not to cry out—it became too much for her to handle. Margot decided to make a run for the first-class section. Maybe she could reach the bathroom and lock herself in. Maybe that tall, dark, handsome man she saw earlier, sitting in first class, would stop the barbarous animal.
She was panicking. Taking a deep breath, as if she were jumping from a high dive, Margot came springing out of her assigned seat and charged through the blue divider curtains.
#airline#pit#passengers#unsustainable
30 Ezra Barkley
Ezra was surprised by how calm she felt. Daddy had told her to put her headphones on and listen to the music. She swayed softly while scrolling through her downloaded tunes; she was listening to Bob Marley’s Three Little Birds.
Marley was telling her not to worry about a thing; his sweet Jamaican beat calmed her nerves. Ezra loved music. Her daddy couldn’t afford private music lessons for her, but she joined the band when she entered middle school and was now learning the clarinet. She had been destined to become a band nerd. With her frizzy Afro, thick glasses, perfect academic scores and thrift store clothing she looked like a nerd. Adding the clarinet was kismet. She tapped her gangly legs to the beat, taking time to stare out the window over the green ocean below.
When she turned to look at her father. He was acting strange. She watched him peek down the aisle and then sit back firmly holding the seat’s armrests. A drip of sweat slid past his dark eyes, slipping over his round cheek and dropping onto his fad
ed black shirt, leaving a blacker spot. He didn’t even wipe off the sweat that still clung to his face.
Her daddy just sat looking frightened, breathing through his open mouth. He felt her staring at him and returned her gaze. She could see the panic by his dilated pupils, in stark contrast to the open white sclera, highlighting his fear. Daddy smiled at her. It was not a normal smile. It was more of a sneer.
She gasped when a square plastic dog kennel flew above her seat, landing in the aisle with a thump.
Yip…yip…yip, the dog in the crate barked frantically. Yip…yip…yip!
Her daddy turned to look at the back of the plane again.
“Watch out!” He shouted to someone.
She took her ear buds out and started to ask her father, “What…”
He stopped her with his look. His wide-open eyes were telling her to not speak another word. She held her breath and listened to the little dog yip.
Boom…Boom…Boom…Boom, Ezra could feel the steps of someone walking down the aisle.
The little yipping dog’s owner she bet.
Then it was like a scene from her worst night terror. The massive dog she was deathly afraid of walked up to the little yellow dog’s kennel. The creature was caked in gore. It was growling like a demon from the depths of Hell.
Grrrrrrr.
Warm urine filled the crotch of her shorts and puddled into the seat. The monstrous dog picked up the kennel and started to shake it back and forth. She saw the kennel hit her daddy hard in the shoulder and he bit his lower lip, drawing blood. Then the cage banged against the seat across the aisle. Her daddy didn’t move, or make a peep, even while he was covered in splatters of body parts.
The attractive brown-haired woman, who had been sitting across the aisle, surprised Ezra by darting past the brutal scene. She aimed her slender body for the first-class section but stumbled over the tall high-heeled boots she was wearing, fumbling her attempt to charge ahead.
The woman timed her mad dash, so to slip past the kennel being rapaciously whipped to and fro. Then the lady went headfirst into the curtain that separated the first-class section. Ezra watched the woman rebound off something hard that was blocking the passage. The lady lurched backwards, slithering to the ground in the middle of the corridor, directly in front of daddy, Ezra, and the massive dog.
The demented dog dropped the kennel with its tongue hanging low. It was panting hard from the workout of shaking the Pomeranian like a stuffed toy.
The dog growled.
It braced its paws on top of the crate, using it to as a prop to send off. In the process it wedged the kennel under the front row seat along the opposite side. The demon dog lunged at the dazed woman lying on the ground. The stunned lady locked eyes with the dog, putting her boot out in front of her as it advanced. The long, pointed heel of the boot stuck the animal in the chest. It paused momentarily from the stabbing pain. Then recovering quickly, it reeled back at the woman with increased savagery. She kicked at the beast, but it was already latching its jaws around her booted calf, applying full force and breaking the tibia.
Crack.
Ezra heard the woman’s leg bone breaking from the force of the dog’s jaws, the leather boot was her only protection from the mauling.
“Ahhhhh,” the woman screamed in pain, flailing her body, kicking her legs, in order to free her appendage from the dog’s excruciating, bone-crunching grasp.
Ezra watched the lady struggle; finding the moment surreal by her own fascination with the woman’s exposed vagina, looking as bare as a baby’s butt. She had never seen a woman’s privates, and thought it was strange that during a mauling, occurring only feet from her, she would focus her attention on lack of public hair. The pretty young woman was clawing desperately at the first-class wall attempting to penetrate it. The dog let off its grip and the lady kicked at it again with her good leg. The kick nailed the dog directly in the eye with the pointed heel of the boot. Both the woman and the dog looked stunned.
“Arp, Arp,” the big dog cried out.
The hurt animal backed off and began rubbing its injured face against the pretty woman’s unoccupied seat.
Ezra watched as the lady pulled herself up using the carpeted, plywood wall between coach and first class. She stood with her good leg on the heeled boot, as she dragged the injured one behind her. She continued to push her way past the barricade. The lady persisted by squeezing through an open pocket above the last seat of first class and the divider wall. She began scuffling with someone on the other side. Relentlessly, she pushed back at them. Finally, the lady managed to weasel her body through the hole and into the last row of first class. Ezra heard luggage toppling as the woman disappeared behind the curtain.
31 Senator Mike Young
The senator had unloaded the entirety of luggage from the above first-class storage compartments. He was packing the luggage as quietly as a midnight thief. Stuffing the pieces between the warmer cart and the cracks between the seats. His assistant Stacy had refused to assist him with reinforcing the luggage. She would be promptly fired when this nightmare ended.
He heard a loud thump on the other side of the curtain.
“Watch out!” A man yelled a warning to someone.
“Jesus help me!” Another man cried moments after.
Yip…yip…yip, the little dog began barking nearer the curtain.
The senator shivered and started hurriedly piling more pieces of luggage on top of the warmer.
He felt the impact of a body jolting the warmer. He didn’t know if it was the dog trying to get past the blockade. He pushed against the warmer from his side, fortifying the already locked wheels. Derek squatted down next to him to help replace the bags that had jarred loose with the jolt.
“Ow,” he heard Derek grunt when a hard-shell suitcase landed on his head, bounced off his shoulder, tumbling behind them.
“That dog is a Goddamn terrorist!”
He heard a young woman on the other side of the curtain cry out in pain, “Ahhhh!”
The rabid dog yelped, and the luggage started to tumble down around them.
“Is it the dog?” The senator questioned Derek excitedly.
“Stop that girl from knocking the wall down,” Derek hissed. “She’s trying to push through.”
“It’s a woman, Beeman and I think she’s hurt!”
Derek continued to aggressively push her back using a silver suitcase like a war shield.
“She’s going to let that dog pass,” Derek said, panting.
From his position on the floor, the senator watched as the woman came slithering through a crack in the barrier dividing the first-class section. Derek tried to knock her back, slapping her in the face and body several times with his large hands. But the girl’s boot swung over the top of the seats as she came crashing into the last row; the sharp heel slicing Derek across his forehead. He heaved back from the blow, his hands covering his face. When he let off the pressure it revealed a large open gash, blood began weeping down his face into his eyes.
The senator felt nauseous. He had always experienced his emotions through his stomach.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” The senator climbed up from his position on the aisle floor where he had been reinforcing the warmer cart and raced to the first-class toilet.
He locked the door. Lifting the toilet seat with sweaty palms, he puked up his numerous cocktails, and some partially digested chicken wings. Afterwards, he sat on the toilet wiping his face with a paper towel. He had never performed well in crisis situations. He did better reading from a teleprompter.
The senator was aware he had been raised a privileged upper-class white kid. His father was a judge. He was provided with expensive private schooling. He enjoyed the upper-class benefits; growing up with summer sailing camps, trips abroad, and an easy acceptance to Florida State University; even with below average SAT scores and a mediocre 3.2 GPA.
His father showed little interest in him, or his poor grades, often res
ponding to his subpar schoolwork with, “You are barely adequate Mike.”
Luckily, he was more popular with the kids. He was a handsome light-haired young man who dressed sharply. He played along with the other kids schemes and shenanigans. Always laughing at their jokes.
During Thanksgiving break his freshman year at FSU, he was spending time at his friend Kenny’s house, relaxing on the soft leather couches in the den and reuniting with high school buddies. The state-of-the-art screen projector shot the live football game onto the white wall; the players appeared life-size.
Several of the boys started tossing Kenny’s family Chihuahua, Bitsy, back and forth to one another. Sometimes using an underhand throw, and then surprising one another with an overhead pass, using Bitsy like a football. The dog cried out, growling and nipping at the boys as it struggled to get away.
“Catch, Mike!” One of the boys tossed her to Mike.
He caught Bitsy around her middle, before turning the tiny tan dog to face him, its little furry eyebrows raised. Then the pint size mutt lunged with its puny mouth wide open to bite him in the face. Its canine tooth catching on the cheek, as the dog started sliding down it unzipped his flesh, breaking free at his upper lip. He tossed the dog aside and watched it hit the floor, before it went scurrying with its tail between its legs from the den.
At the emergency room the doctor did a butchered job of sewing the sliced cheek and lip together, leaving him with a hair lip gone awry. His father sued the hospital and with the awarded settlement had the jagged line across Mike’s face fixed by one of the best plastic surgeons in south Florida.
“What breed of dog was it?” His father had asked him after the mauling. “Was the dog acting aggressively towards you, Mike?”
“The dog was acting aggressively!” Young Mike made it clear to his father. “I swear I didn’t do anything to instigate it.”
Beware of Flight Attendant Page 15
