Proto Widebody. My last name means nothing, I am a small plane. Widebody. Meant for transferring passengers across the ocean, meant for lugging cargo from country to country. Don't sweat it; the heritage can be broken. Not that jet engines are different from the propellers.

Who am I kidding? I can fit over 500 cars, fly over the ocean with no sweat, and I am one of the largest airplanes ever created. Not to mention my classy, unforgettable design; the back hump which rises above the rest of the body, fitted with luxurious, leather seats… something that only cars with big wallets can afford. Or boats. Or small airplanes; small airplanes are kind of like a buzzing in my brain; blah, blah, let's watch the Wings Around the Globe, blah… blah!

It wasn't all that bad, I have to admit, well, at least not until some hotshot racer rode aboard and made a remark about my flying style. Good thing that racer was a plane; I dumped him out of first class so fast that he barely hit the water before he could take off. Devilish of me, but quite fun.

Finally, I got the messages for where to land at the airport. The cars unloaded, luggage was brought out and I promptly fell asleep while waiting for everyone to get off. I was woken up by a helicopter landing near me and when I jolted, several cars spilled out from the side.

"Sorry," I said. One car gave me a dirty look before taking off.

"Proto?"

"What do you want?" I snapped, turning around before sucking my lips in. "Oh, uh, what do you need, Captain?"

"Watch it, Proto. This is the third flight you've spilled cars out on. Thank the sky they weren't shaken out when you were flying." Captain rolled away. "You need to work on being a jumbo jet. It's being a little more than difficult to keep track of you. Next mistake you make, and you're a jobless jumbo. Understand?"

"Sure," I replied. When the last car left, I sighed. It was good to be back in America, to be back in familiar skies. Well, skies aren't always familiar. Clouds shift and alter and the atmosphere could be thicker and hotter or colder and thinner and there really isn't anything familiar about the skies but in the land, have you realized that? Deep breath. Where was I? Doesn't matter.

"Need refueling?" a forklift asked, hooking a truck up to guide me.

The truck spoke before I could. "Of course. These jets eat up fuel like no tomorrow."

"I guess that's why BoeWing announced their new Piston Peak Project. They're coming up with new types of planes." The forklift pointed in the direction of the fueling trucks. "Yup."

"What Piston Peak Project?" I asked. "What is BoeWing doing?"

"Never mind. Jumbos don't need to know just yet," the truck replied. "Haven't you meant the new 787 over there? She's a fantastic flyer. That liner flies like a dream. She's one of the first of BoeWing's Piston Peak Project."

"Hahaha," I replied.

When I was hooked up to the fuel, an airplane came and started talking to me. It was Captain. My mind kept wandering, not about the Dreamliner, but because, well, it just wanders.

"So you think you can do this trip to Japan? A big-name car is riding on board; he's a racer. Just got back from an appointment at a famous hospital in Rowchester, that town filled with lakes."

"Okay."

"You'll be leaving tomorrow, so rest up and be ready to go. It's a morning flight. Remember, any mistakes and you're no longer a jumbo jet in this service."

"Okay."

"Are you paying attention, Proto?"

"Okay."

"Nevermind, Proto. Meet with me in my office hangar."

"When?"

"In an hour."

After being refueled, I felt like I needed a drink so I got a can of oil. It was lifted up on a step ladder where I could reach it, and after I requested a swirly straw the car simply gave me a funky look before driving away. There were a bunch of cars nearby, driving to one of the bigger hangars. There was a huge sign about firefighting heroes so I went over. When I entered, a few cars backed away to give me room. Unfortunately, while the hangar can fit a few 727s, it could barely fit one 747 so I stayed to the back. There were local firetrucks and even a few of the firefighters from Piston Peak. For some reason I thought that I should feel angry but didn't remember why.

Some of the firefighters were speaking. There were aircraft but most of them were firetrucks. Can you think of a word that starts with an f and ends in uck? Firetruck! Firetruck! Bet you couldn't get that, right? The word I think about is always fluff! Bet you thought fluff, right?

Recognizing one of the firefighters, I began to scream because I was so excited! It as a red helicopter with black spinny blade things and bluey blue eyes and no smile whatsoever. "Blade Ranger! Blade Ranger! Blade Ranger!"

The helicopter looked up and saw me. He looked unimpressed. Grumpy Cat Tractor is unimpressed. Finally, he said something but had to shout louder because I couldn't hear him. No one could hear him. Speaking through the microphone, he yelled,

"Turn off your engine, jumbo jet!"