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This week the narrator has been gifted 5 diamonds for the 1-2 boosts at Topwebfiction over the past few weeks. I apologize for the unexpected break. Next episode this Thursday, March 3rd.

G 485 D 102 

Claire - H:5 L:3 F:4 

Samantha - H:5 L:6 F:7

I admit, I was getting more and more impressed with the realism of the game. I had almost forgotten it was one before waking up in the Taxi. Hm? Right.

<Random: I’m really impressed with the realism. I can feel the fabric of the seat, my stomach is lurching as the plane jumps and moves. Almost forgot I’m in a game. Kinda worried about how long I’ll be in and remembering who I am, but it's fun.>

Looking at the seat back in front of me, I could see the customary pocket full of reading material. Advertising.

<Random: Well, this should be interesting.>

The classic laminated plastic card was there, going over the things not allowed, how to buckle your belt, and…  wait.

<Random: Is that Magenta? And Frank N. Furter? And, wait, I’ve seen this before.>

Nutty, but familiar. The Time Warp, in airplane safety instructions.  Well, at least it wasn’t some weeb shit with big shining breasts. Actually, now that I think about … YEAH YEAH!

<Random: You know, now that I think about it, I’m surprised I haven’t seen TOO much weeb shit yet. Usually these games are full of it, even when made by Americans or Europeans. Hell, ESPECIALLY when.>

Next up was the catalog. ‘Flyball’, hunh? I thumbed through, and it seemed like all the ads were references. 

 

Blue String Drones, for the vigilante on a budget.

The YesSoul cellphone, as seen in Ripples. Guaranteed to connect to data no matter what year you travel too. 

 

The Mythos guide to Werewolves and Where to find them, from Nein Schwert.

<Random: Heh, jokes on them.>

 

The Hero’s shield diecast model, complete with Succubus Scratches.

<Random: Kinky.>

<Nancy: “Would you care for a drink sir? Or a snack?”>

The bright box of text, complete with profile pic, blazed across my sight. It was odd, knowing what the speaker looked like before I actually looked up at her. The flight attendant from earlier was pushing the standard airline cart, loaded with sodas and bags of nuts. 

<Random: “Sure, thank you! Let’s see…”>

I gave the cart a quick once over. All generic cans of soda, no brand placement in sight. I spotted a familiar green color in the back.

<Random: “OOO!  May I have a can of Ginger Ale please?”>

She smiled at me as she lifted the can, the font matching my memory of the dissapearing, reappearing can perfectly.

<Nancy: “Of course, here you are sir!”>

I took the can from her, looking closely to see if there was a proper nutrition label.

<Random: Not worried about calories, but I’m curious how realistic they modeled them.>

<Passenger: “Oh, that sounds good. I’ll take a Ginger Ale as well, sweetcheeks”>

 

My head whipped around to look at the smirking suit.

<Random: “Seriously?”>

He looked at me, a stereotypical pasty white guy, balding with a combover. Probably a built in character model that I’d seen a dozen times. He raised a bushy eyebrow in annoyance.

<Passenger: “Is there a problem with my drinking habits. Lad?”>

<Random: Lad? Doubleyou Tee Eff mate.>

 

<Random: “No, there’s a problem with you catcalling a woman while she’s not only working, but on an AIRPLANE, meaning she’s trapped here with that shit. This is twenty fucking…”>

Shit. What year IS it?

 

<Random: “It’s the fucking twenty first century.”>

<Nancy, “Sir, it’s fine. All part of the job.”>

<Random: Ugh. If sexist pigs and the women all taking it is built into this story, I’m gonna be sick. Repeatedly. Hunh. Half expected to get a point with Nancy, the way this game has seemed to be built so far.>

Passenger Cracks a Lot was opening his mouth to respond, but I cut him off with a raised finger.

<Random: “And speaking of the twenty-first century, SWEETCHEEKS? Come on. Be creative.”>

I turned to Nancy, putting a hand to my heart and throwing the other out into the air dramatically.

<Random: “Pray, slake my unending thirst, oh bitching buxom beauty of the bountiful beverages!”>

Nancy put her hand in front of her mouth, hiding a giggle, and her golden cheeks flushed slightly.

:: Nancy Friendship +1::
:: Nancy Lust +1::

 

<Random: There it is!>

<Nancy: “Sir, really, it’s okay. But thank you.”>

She coughed discreetly, and made a few motions to smooth her uniform, which was already impeccable and free of wrinkles, as she turned to face businessman McGee.

<Nancy: “I apologize sir, but that was actually the last can. It’s a local brand that we stocked up on before departure, and was more popular in First Class than we expected. Would you like a Spruce?”>

He grumbled for a moment, giving me a dirty look.

<Passenger: “No, no, I’ll take a Dr. Fapper.”>

Nancy smiled a broad customer service smile and nodded. A crack and pop and gurgle later, she handed him a half full plastic cup of soda wrapped in a napkin and the open can.

 

She went to pick back up the can of Ginger Ale. Her fingernail shined like justice. No, literally, there was a lens flare as her nail moved towards the tab, a red white and blue starburst moving holographically along the long instrument of can destruction.

<Random: Hollow Taco. Heh.>

 

<Random: “Wait! You said that’s the last one?”>

Nancy stopped, fingernail just under the tab, and cocked an eyebrow at me.

 

<Nancy: “...Yes?”

I leaned out into the aisle, looking, and spotted Sam, reading the same catalog I had been looking at.

Hunh. That’s weird. Wait.

<Random: Hunh, that’s weird. They really expect me to believe that in between walking into the terminal, and getting on the plane, she had time to change out of that dress and into tshirt and jeans? Seriously, where’s that bug report?>

I pointed.

<Random: “Do you see that girl about ten aisles back? Long blonde hair, black tshirt?”>

Nancy’s face narrowed in suspicion. 

 

<Nancy: “Yes I do. What ABOUT her?”>

 

<Random: Oh shit. Yeah, I guess this looks creepy.>

 

<Random: “That’s my friend Sam. We’re traveling together, but, you know, getting adjoining seats…”>

Nancy’s glare softened, and she nodded slightly.

<Random: “Anyways, I just found out that this is her favorite soda, and she had wanted to bring some six packs in her luggage, but never got the chance. Like you said, its local, hard to get where we’re going. So I was wondering, as a huge favor to me, could you maybe… hide the can until you get to her?”>

Nancy looked around, a bit apprehensive.

<Nancy: “I’d like to, that's a very sweet gesture for your… friend. We do have guidelines though and…”>

I wriggled in my seat a little and stuck my hand in my pocket. I focused on the feeling I had when tipping the cabbie and thought intently. Sure enough, when I pulled my hand out, a few slips of paper were there. Wait…

<Random: I wanted a twenty. What is this? I have two of the red seven gollar bills, and a blue one marked six? So there’s no twenty, but they have two, six, and seven gollar bills? Who designed the money system, A. A. Spydder? Naw, the writing would be better.>

Whatever. I slid the bills over and left them on the cart next to the can.

<Random: “Please? It would mean the world to her.>

Puppy dog eyes. Cash and puppy dog eyes were guaranteed to work. Sure enough, she smirked at my face and the bills vanished into a pocket of her uniform, along with the can itself. Nice pockets!

<Nancy: “Okay, okay. Stop with the eyes. Now, what did YOU want to drink?”>

I took a glance over the cart, then reached out and snagged a bright green can marked Mists of the Hills.

<Random: “This is good, thanks. Don’t worry about a cup. Oh.”> 

I paused, fingernails against the tab of the can.

<Random: “Can you ask Sam to try and save me a taste this time?”>

I still wanna know if there’s something special about it.

Nancy nodded, giving me a bit of a look, then moved on to the next aisle down.

I went to pop the tab and stopped a moment, looking at my hands closely for the first time. 

<Random: Okay, that’s weird.> 

The fingernails on my right hand were all kinda long. Not press on long, but longer than I expected. Looking at my other hand, it was the opposite. All the nails were short, even thumb and pinky.

<Random: That’s totally wrong.  Should be short nails on middle and forefinger, long everywhere else, on both hands, right?>

A belch next to me grabbed my attention back to my surroundings, and I popped the top, taking a deep drink. Not bad. I went back to perusing the catalog.

The next item nearly made me snort my soda. “Auntie Diane’s Original!” artisanal, handcrafted milk and cheeses.

<Random: Not my kink, not my kink, not my… wait. How do I know why this is funny?>

I could remember what it meant, and that it was from another game. But I couldn’t remember ever actually PLAYING the game being referenced. This memory block was starting to bug me again.

Huffily, I flipped the page. This one was a double page spread of tiny ads, like the back of an old comic book. One stuck out to me though, a splash of pink on a mostly colorless page.

Diamond Larry Fillup’s Jewelry. With the diamond symbol letting me know how many I had. I reached out and tapped it.

::  Easter egg found!  5 D awarded ::

:: 5 Diamonds Added:: 

Double diamonds?

<Random: “Sweet!”>

<Passenger: “Trust me son, nothing in that catalog works as well as it promises. That’s a mistake I won’t make twice.”>

I ignored him.

<Random: Whoops, that wasn’t supposed to be outloud. And… this soda just moved right through me, ugh.>

I suddenly felt pressure in my bladder. This was realism I didn’t need. Looking down the aisles, I saw the cart had just gotten to the end of our compartment and was moving past into the next class down. I got up and started heading towards the sign proudly proclaiming Bathroom. Singular.

<Random: Hope there isn’t a line>

Picking my way past elbows and feet that were stuck out into the aisle, I spotted Sam. She was leaning back in her seat, eyes closed, earbuds in. The can of soda sat in front of her next to a cup with an inch of golden bubbly liquid left in it.

<Random: I bet I can pick it up and take a sip, start up an event with…. Nope, never mind.>

The pressure pulsed, reminding me of the liquid I had already drunk, desperate to get out. I kept making my way towards the blessed sign. I could see no one there in line, but I couldn’t tell if it was already occupied.

<Random: If anyone in front of me gets up and starts heading that way, I’m Mario stomping over them.>

I caught motion out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see Claire tucked against a window, the middle seat in her row filled with a bear of a man, slumbering and snoring.

<Claire: “Hey sweetie, enjoying the flight?”>

I waved and smiled, still inching forward. 

 

<Random: “Yeah, all clear so far. Just… hitting the head!”>

She raised a finger as if about to ask something, but I kept moving on. The last thing I wanted to do was piss myself on an airplane.

Reaching the back of the cabin, the door to the next compartment boxed off the area, with the door to the bathroom in front of me.  A little inset on the door showed red, with the word Occupied printed on it, but the door itself was cracked open. I started to reach for it, and paused as I realized there were sounds coming from inside. Grunting sounds, and slapping sounds, and…

I reached again, slowly, pushing the door open a bare inch. Putting my eye to the crack, I was greeted with the sight of two naked bodies, slapping together.

<Sylvia: “GOD YES! THAT’S RIGHT! FILL THAT TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY!”>

<Random: Right. I almost forgot. It’s THAT type of game.>

G 465 D 112 

Claire - H:5 L:3 F:4 

Samantha - H:5 L:6 F:7

Usher - ?

Nancy - ?