EMERGENCY INSTRUCTIONS
In case of emergency, pull down the blue lever and place the geese....in the slot to the left of the red lever just beyond the flashing panel that has "Don't Panic" written in tumeric, or was it sumeric? Hmm, perhaps sumerian? At any rate, whatever you do, DON'T put it in the...vat of HP Steak Sauce, next to the enormous escape hatch. Make sure to strap the geese securely to the...overhead compartment, unless said compartment is on fire (which has to be known to happen at such altitudes), and not until you have also translated the Arabic lettering on the underside of the serving cart. If you're unable to translate the Arabic lettering then I'm afraid you're going to have to call for...the Book of Armaments to be read.
First, according to the book, you must remove the geese from the overhead compartment, tie to their wings, securely with the finest of ribbons, a..parachute, one of which can be found under each seat. Open the enormous escape hatch and throw out the said geese. (Who let these geese in here anyway?)
If this doesn't solve the problem then it's time to pull the red lever which will...release the plumbers' union, who will then begin recreating the great aqueducts of ancient Rome.
Once this task is completed, be sure to ask...them why they have bothered doing any of this in the first place, how you might rid yourself of the geese, and whether they know of a decent tanning salon in the local area. This last question is sure to arouse suspicion with the vaguely schzophrenic Welsh playwright now clinging for dear life to the upright piano which (as per earlier instruction) you have brought aboard, but it is nonetheless imperative that you ask, remembering, however, that once the melon has been...served to the geese, they will no longer fit in the overhead compartment, and must then be stowed under the seats to the left of the sheep, who, having been fed by the Welsh playwright, will then be ready to....be eaten. However, I must point out to you at this particular time, that this was geese #2, as you already threw geese #1 out of the enormous escape hatch earlier...remember? And, if I may point out...geese is plural, we are talking about 1 goose... Anyway, Cooking instructions for goose#2 can be given to the Stewardess. At this present juncture, please take out of your carry-on, an orange, also pass this to the stewardess. Or Air Hostess, whichever is closer (although they're one and the same you git). After she has taken it, cooked your goose, and served it to you, you must scream in terror, and say "Look of Fear!" At this the Welshman will...quite possibly explode into a million tiny bits, caking the walls of the hovercraft in a disturbing, Roarschachian red splatter of blood and viscera -- not to mention spilling the whiskey sour which the Air Hostess has now been kind enough to serve you, despite a stern warning from the co-pilot and the advice of your family physician (whom, for the time being, we shall refer to simply as "Beauregard"), and even though, as has been stated earlier, you are currently on a strict diet of distilled water, crushed banana peel, and pureed fava beans -- and have, I hope, informed the stewardess of this and aren't planning to use this little moment of confusion as an excuse to start binge drinking again -- because you don't a repeat of what happened in Venezula, do you? -- when you woke up in that circus tent, naked as a jaybird and positively drenched in what you could only assume was kiwi and handcuffed to a female midget wearing an eye patch across one otherwise exposed breast, calling herself Sally, and asking, Excuse me, seņor, but had you seen where the elephant went?
Especially not now in an emergency.
Of course, should the Welsh playwright remain remarkably unexploded -- and should the whiskey sour not arrive -- press the green button adjacent to the...large bowl of Semprini (Canadian style) which the Flight Attendant (to be perfectly PC - even though this is an iMac) has just fed to the sheep.
Once all these instructions have been faithfully followed, this string will suddenly and inexplicably come to an end.
With thanks to all the Pythonline Spouses who contributed to this...this...um....)
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