“The question is how many drinks I should have.”“At least one,” Carol said, from behind them.“Probably two,” Margo replied.“I’d go for...at least four,” Dommi said, sitting next to Carol.“Never knew you didn’t like flying,” Carol said.“Never asked.”“So, fear of flying,” Margo said.“Fear of falling out of the sky and dying in a pile of burning wreckage.”Carol was catching the flight attendant’s eye as she came up the aisle.After his second bourbon, Harry was able to relax. Good bourbon had that. On the fifth day, I rolled out of bed, making sure that he was well-tucked in, and went to the kitchen to make a coffee for myself and a nice big thick steak for him.It was while the steak was sizzling that I heard a sort of thump from the bedroom upstairs. I quickly put the frying pan off the heat, turned off the stove, and rushed upstairs.Inside, as my night-adapted eyes adjusted to the dark, I could barely make out the pile of blankets beside the bed. He’d rolled off, I assumed.He wasn’t in. “Well,” P90 said, putting one hand on her bicep.“Heyyyy!” I made finger guns at her.She popped her bicep open like it was a hinge, revealing another grenade, setting that down.“Heyyyyyyyy!” I made more finger guns.One movie style smash cut later, and I was sitting in my cell, looking at the bars ... They were made of metal. Nice shiny metal. But still metal. I focused, then shrank myself so that I was the size of a mouse. Then I scampered through the bars and then grew to my full size. I beamed. I closed the door behind me and looked around.Abby was standing at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, in her tank top and yoga pants, staring at me with those fierce eyes. She didn’t speak, and neither did I. I took a deep breath and walked slowly up to her.I was so nervous that I was shaking. But I put my arms down by my sides and stood about a foot from Abby, facing her.“Abby…” I started to talk.Smack! I could hear the sound of her slapping me before the sting settled into my face. Clearly,.
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