At first things are going fine. The seat is comfortable, spacious and adjustable. The cabin intercom buzzes to life, interrupting an interesting film, and the captain's voice says, "Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Unfortunately, due to our ponderous route, we have run out of fuel half way to our destination. Just hang on in there though, and things will be fine." How can things be fine, you think, without any fuel? Nevertheless, the crew got you this far, so you trust that they know what they're doing.
Bzzt. "It's the captain again, ladies and gentlemen, just keeping you up to date on our situation. The last drops of fuel are being consumed as we speak, but all I ask is that you stay seated while we deal with the situation, and take a look at the duty free trolley."
The trolley comes past. There are 2 items for sale: a model plane and a box of chocolates. The plane looks fun, but when you ask the steward for the price, he informs you that this particular item isn't actually available yet. You decide to go for the chocolates. "$800 please," says the Steward. You turn away in disgust, and the trolley moves on.
Bzzt. "Hi, me again folks." says the captain. "Our tanks are now empty, and we're gliding under our own momentum, but we're still hopeful that some fuel will come along from somewhere. More later. Captain out."
Your seat begins to shake as the plane begins its unpowered descent. You hear the Steward behind you, listing the price for the chocolates. "$1000," he says.
It's dark outside the plane so you can't see the clouds or the ground. The screen in the back of your seat continues to list the altitude as 37,000 feet, even though the plane is clearly descending.
Bzzt. "Hi there. This is the Chief Steward speaking. The captain and copilot just bailed out. I believe their last words were "... long suckers!" but we can't be sure. You will notice the increasing speed of our descent. As such, we recommend that you fasten your safety belt and return your seats to their full upright position. Please relax and enjoy the remainder of the flight. Out."
Hmm. You start to wonder if maybe you should've chosen a different airline. No, no, you say. The crew has been good and polite so far, only a couple of minor slipups. They're just acting as best they can in a difficult situation. You put on the headphones to listen to the relaxation channel, but the sound system seems to be broken. You turn back to the TV screen, and the film you were watching is now playing at 3 fps. Perhaps a short nap would be best. Ah.
The plane begins to creak and groan as it plummets down towards the ground. The oxygen masks pop open, but appear to do nothing.
Bzzt. "Ladies and gentlemen, glad to hear you're still with us. The oxygen masks unfortunately are not yet functional, as the company we ordered the oxygen from was late delivering it, so we just took off without it. Some good news however: since there is nobody on board who knows how to fly, we at Amiga Airlines have all converted to One True Religion (tm) in the hope of some deity or other noticing us and plucking us from our inevitable fiery doom. Thankyou, and remember: keep the faith!"
The words of the Chief Steward are barely audible over the screaming twisting metal of the plane as it drops out of the sky. Rivets pop and sheet metal flaps wildly. You've been falling for nearly ten minutes. Surely the plane should've crashed by now?
Bzzt. "Hi, just keeping you updated. We might have an announcement to make soon. Out."
A group of passengers nearby, a mix of terrified mothers and angry fathers, get up and march to the front of the plane, desperately trying to stay upright as the plane falls apart around them. Two of them break away from the pack, head for the door, turn the lever in the direction of the arrow, and dive out into the night sky, leaving the gaping door hole to suck the atmosphere out of the airframe.
Bzzt. No voice can be heard above the chaos.
It's at this point when you really start to think about the wisdom of sticking with the airline.
Further up the cabin, fighting has broken out as various groups of passengers and stewards argue over the best course of action. Burning seats are thrown across the aisles. The Chief Steward is out on the periphery of the fight, pacing around in tiny circles, rubbing his hands, whispering to himself "fire fire fire fire fire fire..."
The plane hurtles ever onwards towards the ground. How on earth could it fall this low? Surely it must hit rock bottom at some point?
Bzzt. "This is Jeb speaking. We're a' takin' over this thing! Yeehaw!"
Nearly every other passenger is now fighting. You duck as your neighbours trade blows across your space. As you look down, you notice the floor buckling. A loud bang is accompanied by the sight of all onboard luggage sailing off into the night sky.
The tattered burning decrepit plane lunges down, speeding towards death, but somehow never quite makes it.
This was years ago. You are still strapped into your seat. Your fellow passengers are either dead or driven insane. And the plane keeps falling, lower and lower.