A/N: ok...let's keep this simple, people. i went through a period of time of being down (it may have been being forced to listen to some extremely boring book about some war or something...social studies ::"ah..." say my good fellow readers::), but fear not! I did some great drama (yes, i think so), but, decided that, indeed, i liked writing good, healthy, clean, british comedy. ::readers cursors move toward the "back" button:: alas, this did not work out. ::sighs of relief:: so, here I am, doing good old-fashioned american surf-hawaii comedy. A little bit is implied from the movie Pearl Harbor, check it out. so, without further adeau, you may all raise your lances and yell "CHARGE!" ::someone taps Yahoo on the shoulder and mutters something about the script:: What? Wrong time period? dear me....o well, keep reading....

~**~

Harry, Hermione, and Ron trooped up to the diner in the muggle airport. The Chicago O'Hare, in fact. The woman working at the counter stared over the top of her glasses at the three of them, her pink paper classic-diner-hat tipping. "What'ya want?" She smacked the gum in her mouth.

"Umm...Can we see a menu or something?" Harry asked her. Ron, not used to the Muggle way of doing things, gave Harry a quizzical look. "What, doesn't the food just appear on the plates? What sort of place is-" Hermione clamped her hand over his mouth. "Heh Heh..." She laughed nervously, then whispered "Quiet!" in Ron's ear.

Miss Diner-Lady smacked her gum and handed them a couple of menus, leaning on the counter and giving them weird looks.

"We'll have an onion rings with three vanilla shakes." Harry, again.

The three sat down on booths, enjoying-well, um...*eating* their food.

Hermione checked her watch. "Hurry up, next flight in 20 minutes...."

Ron groaned. He had not taken his first flight well. After becoming extremely panicky about being up in the air so high in an enclosed space, thought somehow that running up and down the isles might somehow help. Unfortunately for him, turbulence was extremely bad that flight...ahem, if you get my drift. The stares from the muggles on board didn't help either. Nor did the flight attendents telling him, "Please, sir, take your seat. Sir, take your seat. Sir, would you like me to call the captain of this flight?!" No, the first flight had not been good.

After finishing their hurried lunch/snack, and after Hermione accidentaly squirted Harry with the ketchup ("Dammit!"), they raced off to their flight.

~**~

Sorry, its too late. I'll continue this LATER!

disclamer: nope. wait! i own the cafe lady and the flight attendant, and all the muggles on the flight and....:: person taps her on the shoulder again...more mumbling...:: sorry.

!~**~!