I am popping out these chapters like a hypersexual rat!

Ain't my mind Wunderbar?

Oh yeah, about the changing number of passengers, it's firmly 15, alright?

Sorry for confusion.

Fritz reclined in his chair, shutting the blind to the window, and putting up his hood. The Sun scared the scotophobic beaver. The small airplane was going to be packed, and Fritz glared over at Scott, Handy, and Glitter. Those three completely skipped the Child-Abuser's terminal, and got the 'First Class seats'. Despite the envy, he knew they had been thinking ahead, like normal people. Fritz was in (failing) Economy between the ungodly light of the sun and Chunky, who took up three seats, which wasn't surprising. Even thin-as-a-stick Lammy took up a seat and a half. Fritz himself took up two seats.

Fritz was charting the seating arrangements, which went as follows:

First row - Scott winters, Handy, Glitter, and Tyler

Second Row - Kurt the Porcupine, Cuddles, Flaky, and Iris

Third Row - Thorn, Lammy, Chunky, Fritz

Fourth Row - Gwen

The Beaver nods to himself. Two more passengers to go. And here is one arriving now. The bear puffed on his pipe once, and his eyes lept over to the green beaver.

"Geez, this was sure nice of you to invite me and Cub on the flight to The Island of Isot." Fritz, after tactfully making his way to the aisle, stares Pop in the face.

"Sorry, sir, but what do you mean 'us'?" Fritz asks. He kicks Pop in the shin and Pop tosses Cub in the air. Cub lands in the seat next to Gwen, and proceeds to baby-barf upon her lap.

She rolls her eyes and heaved a sigh. "I just love children."

Fritz rolls Pop out of the plane, landing with a sickening thud. The plane door closes, and the sign above their heads flashes "Please put on your seatbelts". Scott glances around. "You'd said there was someone else coming. Where are they?"

Fritz smiles. "He's on the Wing." Everybody looks out the right window, seeing a white cat with black ears and a white scarf on the wing of the plane. He gives them a thumbs up. Fritz shouts into the cockpit.

"Take us into the sky Skippy! And no side trips to hell this time." The Plane zooms off the runway, just as the Croc walks out of the terminal, waving a bloody machete.

"DAMN YOU DEADLIVING!"

Short like and Ameriscrew, and shitty like a Polewank (if those existed).

I actually needed to get out a few things:

FlippedOut Soldier's been feeling depressed lately, and I would be very grateful if you all wished her a happy Halloween or for her to feel better soon.

I am going to post a Poe Inspired Story on FictionPress. Tommorow, when it is up, I will post the link to it on my profile.

And like a Bad Britwank, I turn into a narcissistic monster: PLEASE, I'M ON MY OSGOOD-SLATTER INFECTED KNEES, BEGGING FOR Y'ALL TO REVIEW HERZELEID! PLZ!

Your OCs will be introduced later if they have not been mentioned.

Now you may incinerate this chapter to ashes.