"Tell Adam we're on our way to the airport to pick up the company jet," I told Wooley as I pulled into the truckstop. "We'll be just over an hour in the air, rent a van and another hour to an hour and a half on the ground. Can the three of you hold them off that long?"
"We've got a company jet?" Wooley asked. "I always wanted to fly my own jet."
"Well if I don't crash it before we get there then maybe I'll let you fly it back." I said as I hung up the phone and ran inside the truck stop to pickup the latest edition of the Rand McNalley Truckers Road Atlas. That's right, I planned to fly a jet airplane using a road map. After all, it was bad enough that I was about to learn how to fly, I certainly didn't need to learn another means of navigation on such short notice.
Steve and Donny were waiting when I got to the plane. Together we loaded the gear from my truck into the plane. "Where's the pilot and the co-pilot?" Donny asked as he seated himself in the plane.
"You're looking at them," I answered.
"You've never flown a plane before!" Donny shouted. "You'll get us killed!"
"I flew a flight simulator once when I was in the military," Steve said.
"Good," I said, "then that makes you the pilot, Donny's the co-pilot and I'm the navigator. Now let's get this bird in the air."
"But we can't fly no airplane!" Donny shouted.
"Look," I replied, "we've ridden motorcycles well in excess of 100 miles per hour, driven tractor-trailers, operated construction equipment twice the size of this plane, driven cars at over 150 miles per hour. If some kid from Washington state can steal airplanes and fly them all across the country time after time then the 3 of us can figure out how to fly an airplane."
"I remember that kid," Steve said, "They called him the barefoot bandit."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Donny said.
"That's okay," Steve said, "here's a full box of barf bags."
____
Adam and Wooley rolled into a general store and gas station in the mountains of southeast Kentucky not far from the Virginia line, filled up their tanks and checked the directions Joe had left them. "Too bad we're back to pump gas," Wooley said.
"Yes," Adam replied, "I get the feeling when we get back to burlington I'm going to be stocking up on that Kudzu Super to take bake to my place. Looking at this map it looks as if we turn right, right here." Adam pointed down a side road.
The two of them went inside and paid for their gas where a bunch of men seemed to be loitering about doing nothing. The man behind the cash register said, "I noticed you pointing down that road yonder. Ain't nothin' down that way."
"Yeah," another man said, "It's a dead end."
"We're going to see a man about a dog," Wooley said.
"Ain't nobody down there but old Joe," the man behind the counter said, "and Joe ain't feeling up to much company."
"Well that's just sad," Adam said. "Next time you see old Joe, tell him we'll keep him in our prayers. Y'all have a nice day."
"How many did you count?" Wooley asked as he and Adam mounted their Harleys.
"Best I could tell, fifteen," Adam replied, "Let's get to the end of that road fast."
Joe was waiting and scared to death when Wooley and Adam got there. "Man, am I glad to see you guys. I been worried to death they'd figure out where I'm hiding out."
"They already know where you're hiding," Wooley said.
"Then why ain't they come and got me and took the Black Iron?" Joe asked.
"They were waiting on me," Adam replied. "They want the money and the motorcycle."
"I'm calling the President," Wooley said as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He's the only one who can help us now.
_____
"I can not believe we are really flying our own jet airplane across the mountains of Kentucky," Donny said.
"It's like I've been telling you for years, Little Brother," I replied, "as a team we can do anything. Apart we're nothing. See those flashing lights off in the distance? That's where we land."
"I been meaning to talk to you about that," Steve said, "It was the landings I kept messing up on when flying the simulator."
"We'll figure it out," I said, "Donny, see if there's an owner's manual and see if it says anything about landing."
The landing was, how shall I describe it? Interesting. But we got back on the ground in one piece and the plane was salvageable. We quickly rented a van, stowed the gear and hit the road with the FAA and the Kentucky State Patrol in hot pursuit.
_____
Adam, Wooley and Joe were trapped. With only one way in and out their only hope was to hold them off until help arrived. Fifteen to three simply weren't very good odds and while Adam and Wooley were armed they were sure the other guys were armed more. "What's this?" Adam asked looking at a cannon like device Joe had mounted on wheels in his shop.
"It's a popcorn cannon," Joe said. "I use it in reenactments and parades."
"Does it shoot?" Wooley asked.
"Only popcorn balls?" Joe answered.
"Why popcorn balls?" Adam asked.
"Because they're biodegradable," Joe answered. "Besides, the birds and critters eat them so I don't have to clean them up."
"How's it work?" Wooley asked.
"It uses compressed air," Joe answered. "But popcorn balls won't stop nobody. They just fall apart when they hit you."
"But if those popcorn balls were filled with nuts, bolts, old motorcycle chains and other junk they'd be just like shrapnel, wouldn't they?" Adam asked.
"I'll start popping some popcorn," Joe said.
"I'll turn on the compressor," Wooley added.
The motorcycle thieves arrived in 3 vans, stopping just at the end of the road where Joe's driveway began to size up the situation. Slowly they pulled their vans down Joe's driveway and into his front yard. When they were finally within the short range of the popcorn cannon, Joe opened the valve firing the first scrap metal laced popcorn ball into the grill and windshield of the closest van! "They've got artillery" someone shouted, "get the hell out of here!"
As the 3 vans turned around in Joe's front yard, Adam and Wooley quickly loaded another laced popcorn ball into the cannon, stepped aside and let Joe twist the valve, rinse, lather, repeat, pelting the 3 vans with various pieces of scrap metal and candied popcorn. Only a few pieces actually penetrated the vans but it was enough to scare the thieves into leaving.
Meanwhile, unknown to us, Ronald Reagan and a group of about 50 volunteers from Bearclaw Holler Biker Campground were already in route ahead of us as fast as they could ride the Virginia and Kentucky backroads. They arrived just in time to block the escape of the motorcycle thieves and had them all tied up in Joe's front yard by the time Steve, Donny and I arrived with our escort of FAA, Kentucky State Troopers and local news reporters right behind.
Being we were going to be there a while as the troopers got statements from everyone and sorted out the good guys from the bad guys I talked the Troopers into letting us cook dinner for everyone. After all, if we didn't use it soon that whole pig I had in the cooler amongst our gear was going to spoil and everyone down South loves a pig pickin'. Even Troopers and FAA men.
"Mister Farmer," a reporter asked, "How is it that you and your friends managed to capture such a notorious gang of classic motorcycle thieves?
"You know how it is," Adam replied, "Sometimes we plan a trip to one place, but something takes us to another."
"Can I quote you on that?" the reporter asked.
"No" Adam smiled, " I'm afraid you'll have to quote Rumi on that one."
Continue to Men In Black.
"We've got a company jet?" Wooley asked. "I always wanted to fly my own jet."
"Well if I don't crash it before we get there then maybe I'll let you fly it back." I said as I hung up the phone and ran inside the truck stop to pickup the latest edition of the Rand McNalley Truckers Road Atlas. That's right, I planned to fly a jet airplane using a road map. After all, it was bad enough that I was about to learn how to fly, I certainly didn't need to learn another means of navigation on such short notice.
Steve and Donny were waiting when I got to the plane. Together we loaded the gear from my truck into the plane. "Where's the pilot and the co-pilot?" Donny asked as he seated himself in the plane.
"You're looking at them," I answered.
"You've never flown a plane before!" Donny shouted. "You'll get us killed!"
"I flew a flight simulator once when I was in the military," Steve said.
"Good," I said, "then that makes you the pilot, Donny's the co-pilot and I'm the navigator. Now let's get this bird in the air."
"But we can't fly no airplane!" Donny shouted.
"Look," I replied, "we've ridden motorcycles well in excess of 100 miles per hour, driven tractor-trailers, operated construction equipment twice the size of this plane, driven cars at over 150 miles per hour. If some kid from Washington state can steal airplanes and fly them all across the country time after time then the 3 of us can figure out how to fly an airplane."
"I remember that kid," Steve said, "They called him the barefoot bandit."
"I think I'm going to be sick," Donny said.
"That's okay," Steve said, "here's a full box of barf bags."
____
Adam and Wooley rolled into a general store and gas station in the mountains of southeast Kentucky not far from the Virginia line, filled up their tanks and checked the directions Joe had left them. "Too bad we're back to pump gas," Wooley said.
"Yes," Adam replied, "I get the feeling when we get back to burlington I'm going to be stocking up on that Kudzu Super to take bake to my place. Looking at this map it looks as if we turn right, right here." Adam pointed down a side road.
The two of them went inside and paid for their gas where a bunch of men seemed to be loitering about doing nothing. The man behind the cash register said, "I noticed you pointing down that road yonder. Ain't nothin' down that way."
"Yeah," another man said, "It's a dead end."
"We're going to see a man about a dog," Wooley said.
"Ain't nobody down there but old Joe," the man behind the counter said, "and Joe ain't feeling up to much company."
"Well that's just sad," Adam said. "Next time you see old Joe, tell him we'll keep him in our prayers. Y'all have a nice day."
"How many did you count?" Wooley asked as he and Adam mounted their Harleys.
"Best I could tell, fifteen," Adam replied, "Let's get to the end of that road fast."
Joe was waiting and scared to death when Wooley and Adam got there. "Man, am I glad to see you guys. I been worried to death they'd figure out where I'm hiding out."
"They already know where you're hiding," Wooley said.
"Then why ain't they come and got me and took the Black Iron?" Joe asked.
"They were waiting on me," Adam replied. "They want the money and the motorcycle."
"I'm calling the President," Wooley said as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He's the only one who can help us now.
_____
"I can not believe we are really flying our own jet airplane across the mountains of Kentucky," Donny said.
"It's like I've been telling you for years, Little Brother," I replied, "as a team we can do anything. Apart we're nothing. See those flashing lights off in the distance? That's where we land."
"I been meaning to talk to you about that," Steve said, "It was the landings I kept messing up on when flying the simulator."
"We'll figure it out," I said, "Donny, see if there's an owner's manual and see if it says anything about landing."
The landing was, how shall I describe it? Interesting. But we got back on the ground in one piece and the plane was salvageable. We quickly rented a van, stowed the gear and hit the road with the FAA and the Kentucky State Patrol in hot pursuit.
_____
Adam, Wooley and Joe were trapped. With only one way in and out their only hope was to hold them off until help arrived. Fifteen to three simply weren't very good odds and while Adam and Wooley were armed they were sure the other guys were armed more. "What's this?" Adam asked looking at a cannon like device Joe had mounted on wheels in his shop.
"It's a popcorn cannon," Joe said. "I use it in reenactments and parades."
"Does it shoot?" Wooley asked.
"Only popcorn balls?" Joe answered.
"Why popcorn balls?" Adam asked.
"Because they're biodegradable," Joe answered. "Besides, the birds and critters eat them so I don't have to clean them up."
"How's it work?" Wooley asked.
"It uses compressed air," Joe answered. "But popcorn balls won't stop nobody. They just fall apart when they hit you."
"But if those popcorn balls were filled with nuts, bolts, old motorcycle chains and other junk they'd be just like shrapnel, wouldn't they?" Adam asked.
"I'll start popping some popcorn," Joe said.
"I'll turn on the compressor," Wooley added.
The motorcycle thieves arrived in 3 vans, stopping just at the end of the road where Joe's driveway began to size up the situation. Slowly they pulled their vans down Joe's driveway and into his front yard. When they were finally within the short range of the popcorn cannon, Joe opened the valve firing the first scrap metal laced popcorn ball into the grill and windshield of the closest van! "They've got artillery" someone shouted, "get the hell out of here!"
As the 3 vans turned around in Joe's front yard, Adam and Wooley quickly loaded another laced popcorn ball into the cannon, stepped aside and let Joe twist the valve, rinse, lather, repeat, pelting the 3 vans with various pieces of scrap metal and candied popcorn. Only a few pieces actually penetrated the vans but it was enough to scare the thieves into leaving.
Meanwhile, unknown to us, Ronald Reagan and a group of about 50 volunteers from Bearclaw Holler Biker Campground were already in route ahead of us as fast as they could ride the Virginia and Kentucky backroads. They arrived just in time to block the escape of the motorcycle thieves and had them all tied up in Joe's front yard by the time Steve, Donny and I arrived with our escort of FAA, Kentucky State Troopers and local news reporters right behind.
Being we were going to be there a while as the troopers got statements from everyone and sorted out the good guys from the bad guys I talked the Troopers into letting us cook dinner for everyone. After all, if we didn't use it soon that whole pig I had in the cooler amongst our gear was going to spoil and everyone down South loves a pig pickin'. Even Troopers and FAA men.
"Mister Farmer," a reporter asked, "How is it that you and your friends managed to capture such a notorious gang of classic motorcycle thieves?
"You know how it is," Adam replied, "Sometimes we plan a trip to one place, but something takes us to another."
"Can I quote you on that?" the reporter asked.
"No" Adam smiled, " I'm afraid you'll have to quote Rumi on that one."
Continue to Men In Black.
