Mike Smotz walked down the aisle of the 737 he was boarding and found seat 28B. The person in 28A sank into a rapid depression. He thought he would have an open seat next to him, to stretch for the 3-hour duration enroute to their destination. Mr. 28A retracted all his appendages and braced for the upcoming coffin posture that all poor people must endure. First class passengers like to smirk at the idiots that are passing them on their way back to coach. On the slow trip rearward, Mike noticed that all passengers and crew had their muzzles stuffed into a cloth jock cups. Masks were mandatory, so everyone looked ridiculous together. Designer masks only made materialistic morons stand out more because they had paid double for a personalized inhalation inhibitor. Mr. Smotz sat down and adjusted his mask over his nose so as not to provoke an in-flight riot that so many flights were now experiencing. With the pandemic and mandated health precautions, no one was exempt, except corporate jet jerks who prove daily that laws are only meant for the working no-classers. With a little apprehension about flying, completing a half mile hike through the concourse, down the jet way and scraping through a 16″ aisle lined with shoulders and fat asses, Mike was trying to catch his breath. His 65 years and 240-pound frame were not responding well to breathing his own wastes through an atmospheric diaper. The rest of the passengers were feeling the same way. Incarcerated in a confined space with an average of 150 strangers and rebreathing their own carbon dioxide, things were going to get hostile if but 1 minor incident started to snowball. Between the pressure changes and sitting with a sock in your mouth, conversations will have to be repeated. This does nothing for people short on patience. Bored out of their faces and unable to sleep in an upright and locked position, the wheels of war were turning and then: BAM! A full-blown fight broke out in coach. Cool! 

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