Black Box Radio Theater

Black Box Recording #1

What follows are transcripts of the last ten minutes of Black Box recordings recovered from the rubble of three airplanes..

Dec 20th 1995 aboard on a United Airlines Boing 757 jet.

Captain: Hey, I forgot to ask you what happened to you last night.

First Officer: Ugh, you don’t want to know.

Captain: That bad, huh?

F. O.: She brought her twin sister with her.

Captain: That doesn’t sound so bad.

F.O.: That’s what I thought at first. As a matter of fact it looked like we were going to get into a threesome. They were drinking White Russians all night only they weren’t white.

Captain: Black Russians. Vodka and Kaluha. Chicago still hasn’t got back us on our approach. Looks like a storm up ahead. What’s the radar say?

F.O.: All clear. Not a cloud in the sky.

Captain: That’s odd. Anyway, the computer’s never wrong. If it weren’t for the automatic pilot I’d actually have to fly this fucking thing.

F.O.: Don’t scare me like that. You can barely work the toilet.

Captain: I know. And I forgot my glasses today. (He laughs).

F.O.: Don’t you have contacts?

Captain: Only at the FAA. (He laughs). So anyway, you got these twins juiced up on Black Russians and…

F.O.: Yeah, so I mention to them that I’ve always had this fantasy to fuck a pair of twins. Only, I didn’t say fuck. I said make love.

Captain: Smooth.
F.O.: And they really started to get turned onto this idea.

Captain: Oh man.

F.O.: So I slowly begin to usher them into the bedroom. They’re giggling all the way like a couple of school girls. Then they say that they’re going to do a strip tease for me. Only they need another drink to work up their courage. So I take off my shoes and shirt and pop on a tape.

Captain: What ‘cha play?

F.O. All I had was a tape my daughter lent me. Rancid.

Captain: The “Out Come The Wolves” LP?

F.O.: I think so.

Captain: That’s good punk.

F.O.: I wouldn’t know. I’m more of a Hootie man myself.

Captain: Speaking of hooties…

F.O.: So they go into the bathroom to put on some more make up. They’re in there five, ten minutes. I’m starting to get worried. I’m lying on the bed with my Johnson hanging out when I hear this loud crash. I run into the bathroom and there they both are, half naked in the bathtub fast asleep. The shower curtain is on top of them and their make-up crap is scattered all over the floor.

(Half a minute of silence goes by)

Captain: Jesus, where the hell are we? Can you make anything out?

F.O.: Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Maybe we should turn right, I think Chicago is to the right. There’s some red light blinking on the radar. Whatever it is it looks like the size of a HOUSE.

Captain: (Excited) Oh, SHIT! Pull up, man.

F.O. The A.P. just disengaged. What do I do?

Captain: PULL UP. PULL UP.

F.O. My shoe just fell off. OH, SHIT!

End of recording.

The plane hit another plane that was in a holding pattern above Denver International Airport killing all 160 passengers and crew on board. The investigation of the crash, which has not been concluded has examined whether the pilots were lulled into complacency by the automated nature of the Boeing 757’s cockpit.

Black Box Recording #2

F.O.: Is the A.P. engaged?

Captain: A.P.? What’s that stand for? Ass Patrol?

F.O.: Automatic Pilot, stupid!

Captain: Oh, yeah. I was just spacing out on that dead bird splattered on my windshield in front of me here. I wonder what kind it is.

F.O.: Larus ridibundus , Blackheaded Gull. Just turn on the windshield and wipe him off.

(There is a squeaking noise followed by both pilots making loud moaning sounds)

Captain: That was not pretty! Hey, look. What does it remind you of now?

F.O.: Lunch. Speaking of lunch, where’s that juice I asked for?

Captain: Judy is such a bubble head. You gotta ask her five times before she does anything. And don’t call me stupid!

( One of the pilots whistles for four minutes)

Captain: I’ve got some DMT if you want to try it.

F.O.: What’s that?

Captain: It’s a powerful psychedelic. Di Methyl Tryptimine. It’s made from some kind of plant.

F.O.: You want me to try it now while we’re flying the plane?

Captain: It only lasts about ten minutes. You get fantastic colors. Aural and visual hallucinations. And after you come down there’s no hangover. You’re not groggy at all. And best of all, the FAA doesn’t look for it in your urine. They’re too busy checking for pot and cocaine.

F.O.: Ten minutes, huh? Is it a pill?

Captain: No. You gotta smoke it in a glass pipe. I’ve got one here.

F.O.: Damn, captain! You snuck a glass pipe on board?

Captain: Those assholes never check me. Here, let me turn on the exhaust fan.

F.O.: I don’t know. Don’t they tape our conversations?

Captain: They only listen to the tapes after a crash. By then it’s too late. We’ve had our fun. Here, let me light it for you. Now take a big drag into your lungs and hold it in.

F.O.: I don’t know. What about if something goes wrong with the plane?

Captain: We’re on automatic pilot. Anyway, we’ll be in this holding pattern for another hour. The high lasts only ten minutes with about a four minute peak.

F.O.: OK. I guess you know what you’re doing. I hold it like this?

Captain: That’s it. Now, inhale deeply.

( There’s a half a minute of audible coughing followed by three minutes of silence.)

Captain: How do you feel?

F.O.: I feel like Gumby.

Captain: What do you see when you shut your eyes?

F.O.: Vivid colors. Geometric shapes. I’m in what looks like a parking garage. But the walls are made out of skin… I can hear little chirping laughter above me. Wow, There’s like a shining crystal palace stuck to my shoe. Oh, it turned into a pink insect. Oh my God! I just saw Donald Duck. I swear! It was Donald Duck. He was carrying a large fetus. This stuff is amazing. Every time I talk I can hear a echo in my headphones.

Captain: Ha ha. That’s because I turned on your mike. I’m Broadcasting your voice to the passengers.

F.O.: You sick fuck! Ha ha. ATTENTION PASSENGERS! On your right you will see little houses made of bubble gum. And on your left, if you close your eyes, you will see flying saucers shaped like shoes being piloted Hungarian finger puppets.

(A warning alarm goes off in the cockpit)

F.O.: Wow, What are you playing now? Kraftwerk?

Captain: Oh, shit! What the HELL is that?

End of recording. The American Airlines 747 was slammed into above Denver airport while in a holding pattern by a United Airlines Boing 757 which was lost on route to Chicago. All 142 passengers and crew were killed.

Black Box Recording #3

F.O.: How long are we going to have to sit here?

Captain: The tower says they got a traffic jam on runway five. Near gate 93.

(Five minutes go by. The two-man crew kill time by chatting about the other planes on the runway)

F.O.: Would you look at that plane. What company is that?

Captain: It’s the new one. Mattel.

F.O.: What? The toy company?

Captain: Yeah, they just bought out Delta.

F.O.: What would you call those wheels on that plane?

Captain: Hot Wheels. And you should see their flight attendants. They all look like Barbie. Tower, this is flight 1202. How much longer till we get the green light for takeoff?

Tower: Flight 1202, sit tight a little while longer.

(The Female Head Flight Attendant enters the Cockpit)

F.A. Well, if it isn’t Bevis and Butthead. Have you guys been farting in here?

Captain: Look who’s here. Cathy Crash Bait. Is it time for our blow jobs, yet?

F.A.: It sure is. Go ahead, blow each other. Are you going to trim the trees again during take off? I think you took a few shingles off some houses too.

F.O.: That’s what they get for living near the airport. How’s the passenger situation?

F.A.: I’ve got a Japanese convention in first class.

Captain: Kamikazes.

F.A.: And there’s fifty two Special Olympics hopefuls driving my crew bananas. We haven’t even left the ground and I’ve had to drain twenty five gag bags. Why don’t you say something to the passengers about the delay?

F.O.: How about a morning prayer?

Captain: (Into radio) Tower, this is flight 1202 again. How much longer now?

Tower: Listen flight 1202. If you bother me once more your not going to Mexico!

(A loud noise is heard )

Captain: What the hell was that?

F.O. Jesus, is that hail?

(End of recording. The DC 10 which had been sitting on the Denver runway waiting to take off was showered by the debris of a mid-air collusion of a boing 757 and a 747. Of the 122 passengers and crew on board 52 Special Olympics hopefuls survived and went on to win twelve gold metals)





Underworld Book

Order “The Underworld: From Hoboken to Hollywood” the omnibus collection of the very best of the strip’s 23-year run, with annotations, photos, and other surprises from the author (along with a foreword by Mutts creator Patrick McDonnell).

Don`t copy text!
%d bloggers like this: