Ho-ho-ho! Take THAT, airline industry! Always nickle and diming the hell out of the little guy, amirite? Luggage, peanuts, oxygen…is there anything those vultures don’t charge you for these days? Why I remember back in the day when flying was fun and glamorous and the sexy stewardesses would hand out food, booze, smokes and candy like it was candy…back before technology stole our souls and turned us into a nation of chullo-wearing….(zzzzzzzzzz).
Ooops, drifted off there. Yeah, it’s probably not the worst FW gag ever (as if) and the always objectionable Dinkle doesn’t say anything or contort his face into an obnoxious cackle, so there’s that. It’s pretty rare, so savor it.
Coming on Monday (minor spoilers): A distraught Becky stumbles into band practice. A student reminds her to sterilize her trombone mouthpiece.
“Band Director For Life Harry Dinkle’s plane was shot down over a large pig feces retention pond in North Carolina. It spun in…there were no survivors.”