Mordecai slowly sighs as the sun creeps over the windowsill. It paints beauty across the wall. It only deepens his decision. He looks to the other side of his bedroom to where Rigby sleeps. It is empty, just like Mordecai feels every beat of his heart every flash of his false smile. Life has come to a grinding stop, every day passes with strain as he realizes how meaningless and repetitive each day is.

Mordecai gets dressed and slumbers downstairs. Rigby is already jacking- slacking off.

"Hey Mordecai. How'd you sleep?" He says over his shoulder.

"About as well as I feel," Mordecai answered, "We need to do something today." The darkness of his voice makes Rigby pause. Something inside Mordecai had changed over these last few weeks. He his cracked and what remains is a pointed shard.

The two of them sat in the back of giant 707 commercial airliner. It held 257 passengers.

"Dude, what are we even doing here?" Rigby asks impatiently. He hates flying.

"I'm here to do what must be done, not so I can change, but so the world can." He says without emotion. "You're here to pay for my ticket."

Before Rigby can deliver his joke for the fecking millions of retarded kids watching this cancer they call entertainment, the plane begins to lift off. He clutches the edges of the seats with his claws. He exhales heavily out his snout, which is coating the seat in mucus.

Mordecai's normal voice leaves him. "Do not fear Rigby, for you will not suffer this plain of existence much longer."

Eyes lazily draw to him as he stands. Those eyes become frenzied as a glock is drawn from underneath robes.

"Everybody shut the fuck up unless you want a hole through and through this autistic kid's face!" He reaches for the nearby boy but withdrawals as the kid really is autistic.

Mordecai briskly walks up the aisle to the front. The passengers begin to comprehend what is going on as he does so. One begins to stand. Mordecai's gun goes off, releasing the man of his consciousness. His body ragdolls into the aisle, which makes Mordecai have to step over the body.

Simply shooting the lock, he is inside the cockpit within seconds of his hijacking. The passengers flinch as two more shots symbolize the death of the pilots. Mordecai pulls the corpse from the seat and sits down. He recognizes some of the equipment there. He had been studying piloting for weeks to prepare for every contingency. Rigby does that annoying fucking scream as the plane begins to tip to the left. He can't believe what is going on, so much so that he forgets about his own safety. He is thrown from the seat and onto the roof, snapping his neck instantly. His screams are reduced to gurgles of pain.

Mordecai steers through tears of relief. His plan was finally coming to light. Soon everyone would praise him for his work. Soon everyone would see his brilliance and the world would become a better place. Behind him, the floor creaks. He snaps back with his sidearm leveled at the sound. A passenger is standing in the aisle.

"Not to bother you up here, but I ordered a drink an hour ago-" he is cut off with bullet through the throat. He scratches at the walls as he collapses to the floor. Blood stains the bathroom door from where he was standing.

Mordecai snaps back to the window. Two giant towers stand in his view. It is quicker than he thought, and regret floods through him. He mumbles his last words as it comes to view.

"Allah hu akbar"

Soon his hijacking is all over the news everywhere. But instead of bringing about an era of peace, he brings about war. President Bush knows that America is running out of money and oil, so he turns blame the middle-east. There he wages a war that powers the economy and allows America to an abundance of oil. Mordecai's death brought about change, yes, but a change that minorly inconvenienced every person who flew on a commercial airplane from then on with the TSA.