Shoup Airlines

Trick or Treat?

It’s been quite some time since getting the chance to fire up the imagination furnaces for a Halloween costume. I’m not really sure what happened in college and why I, nor anyone I knew for that matter, never costumed up. Lack of funds maybe? Or was it the overwhelming doom of winter setting in? After college, as luck would have it, I’d always work Halloween. The company frowned upon pilots dressing up, something about professionalism and all that…blah, blah, blah. Plus, always having to wear that monkey suit, one gets tired of wearing a “costume” of sorts.

To make a short story longer, this year was the first time I had an opportunity to once again let loose. Unfortunately, not having a job at all puts a damper on availability of Halloween parties. No one I knew seemed to be having one either, so I didn’t give costume possibilities much thought. That is until Kara, a.k.a. ME of the Comments, and also tri-creator of The Wager, dropped an invite in my lap less than 24 hours prior to the party. I almost bowed out simply on the grounds that I didn’t think I could come up with something worthy enough.

Kara: Wear your pilot uniform.

Shoup: Nah, trite. No imagination.

Kara: Wear your Army BDUs.*

Shoup: Nah, hackneyed. No creativity. I don’t know if I’ll go.

The next day I woke up and realized how stupid it would be to turn the invite down. Not like I was doing anything else, right? It was just a question of if I could come up with something good enough, fast enough. To the all powerful oracle, Google, I went seeking knowledge. All I found were some really stupid ideas and an outrageously expensive Darth Vader costume. But it looks frellin’ cool, doesn’t it? Anyway, after searching mindlessly and getting no ideas, I turned my back on the oracle. I guess there’s a first for everything.

Then the idea hit me up side the head like a manhole cover moving at the speed of an improbability drive! You cannot fathom how difficult it was to find a small toy bi-plane, I think I would have had better luck searching for the Holy Grail in my dirty clothes hamper with my eyes closed. Trying not to make this a Homer-ish epic, a beer (or drink of your choice) to anyone that can figure the character out.**

*BDUs: Battle Dress Uniform, the infamous camouflage fatigues that most branches of the military wear.

**Anyone with the last name of Pietila, Dodge, Krastman, or Shoup is disqualified from said contest as they already know.

15 Seconds, Part Boo!

Not so long ago, in a neighborhood right across the street, I spoke of a nocturnal menace that haunted my precious and coma-inducing sleep. Trying to wake me is on par with attempting to scoop all the oceans into a single Dixie cup. However, this Banshee appeared to own the Dixie company! That is, until I became desensitized and hermaniacal mechanical rants became just another screeching voice in the background.

She’s back! First, some background. The aforementioned amusement park turns the entire place into a haunt-fest during nights in October, rides and all. Often imitated, but never equalled, Knott’s Scary Farm was the first and has been scaring the bejesus out of people, young and old, for 33 years! Many people from the entertainment community go to work there solely for this temporary event. Costumes, effects, and props always seem to be top notch, but you really can’t care because of the “pull your brain through your nose with a rusty fish hook and then do a Spanish Flamenco dance on it” shrieks that continually come from the female companions you are indubitably with. God forbid if one of said female companions is holding on to you in any way, shape, or form. Then you’re in for a treat that makes Freddy Kreuger’s hand look like a flimsy spork! Oh sure, you think it’s cute and funny at first, but by the 42nd time your eyes are bleeding spinal fluid and you actually look like one of the monsters running around! It’s a great time, I recommend it to anyone. But I digress…

As I said, the bleep-er bleep-ing, bleep-rd spawn of a hamster and elderberry smelling father, the Banshee, is back and with a vengeance. She has bridged the gap and is now a diurnal thorn in my side as well. Knott’s main entrance is at the same intersection I turn to get into my housing tract. Right around 5:30 pm, the local police invade the area and shut down all northbound left turn lanes within a 5 mile radius of said intersection. Gee, what time do you think I generally get to this intersection?

After detouring through VICTORVILLE to get back to my place, I am finally safe until nightfall. Somehow, the mechanical shrills that emanate from Knott’s during the rest of the year are now amplified during the Halloween Haunt. I still don’t know the reason for this. Not only are they louder, they last much, much longer than 15 seconds. It’s almost a continuous low moan accompanied with constant shrieks that vary in pitch every few seconds. Rob Zombie would die in ecstacy.
Again, I thought this was cool, extremely malicious, but very cool nonetheless.

That is until I go to bed!! My skills at desensitizing and coma-induced sleep have betrayed me. I am able to fall asleep, where my subconscious (the biggest part of my mind) takes over and taps right into the ghoulish dirge, setting the tone for all dreams to come that night. These ungodly creations make George A. Romero’s worst nightmare look like an intolerably cute children’s book with a title like “Phil the Fluffy Squirrel and his Flufferful Friends!” Being in coma-induced sleep, I can’t wake up either!

The banshee is smiling one of those razor sharp, toothy grins with a single drop of blood dribbling down the side of her chin.

Happy Halloween, Blaah!

Come on guys, lemme play!

Three tickets in the last row of the nosebleeds – $91.50
Soul-less Ticketmaster charge for said tickets – $16.50
Parking -$10.00
One gut bomb of a chicken burrito – $7.50
One order of nachos (nastiest fake cheese ever, Velveeta) – $7.50
Two beers (at least they were Dos Equis) – $20.00!!
One Diet Coke – $4.50

Watching the Kings half-arsedly beat the tar out of the Ducks…$153 and a slight case of indigestion.

Would I do it again? You really have to ask?