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Stats & Data

March 14, 2012

A man's journey through the terrors of Houston Airport. This story would make Anne Frank rip up her diary. There is no exaggerated bitching here, just true events...

Ted definitely had a serious case of the old STD, also known as stressed to death. He had been waiting at terminal C54 for an hour and a half now with no signs of progress. Engine problems the speaker said. By engine problems, they meant one of the pilots needed a little more time to sober up after binge drinking bourbon at the Chili’s bar. How else could anyone fly Texans? Ted knew this because he used to be a pilot. He used to chug whiskey mid-flight like a dehydrated prospector gulping down water after fighting off a swarm of aggressive chimps in the Congo. He actually relied on alcohol to fly a plane. While sober, he would be too nervous to fly with lives in his hands, literally causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. While drunk, he not only flew a hundred percent better, he also didn’t give a damn about the people a hundred percent more. Surprisingly, he did not get fired for drinking on the job, but for not drinking on the job. While sober he forgot to extend the landing wheels while landing. It was not a pretty sight and he ended up with an eye patch.
Ted always hated going to the Houston airport. The combined smell of sweaty obese tourists, rotten beef being slathered in barbeque sauce to hide the taste of mold, and the urine soaked wall corners from Texans who had a little too much to drink made Hell smell like fresh roses straight from the World’s best florist shop. Ted was pretty sure his life span decreased by ten years each time he inhaled the foul air. It was bad enough the smelly terminal was essentially an oven, the airport management figured it was more important to repair the McDonald’s flash fryers then repair the air conditioning. Ted sat in the terminal lobby with sweat dripping from his forehead. Across from his seat were a sleeping mother and a young boy going through the mom’s purse. The young boy opened her mother’s wallet and began throwing her credit cards and checkbook into the garbage can adjacent to him. He then proceeded to take out the plan tickets, ripped them in his hands, and threw them into the air as if it was snow. The boy then stuck his hand out like a gun towards Ted and pretended to shoot.
“Bang JFK, you’re dead!”
Ted rethought his previous thought. This was Hell.
The mother woke up and immediately began to smack her son after she saw him throwing make up from her purse at Ted. Ted had enough of her abuse. Ted got up, asked the mother to hold her son still, and joined in on the abuse, slapping the child across his face. Ted and the mother gave each other a high-five and proceeded to walk away. Despite the fact the mother was on the same page as Ted, two police officers were not. The cops yelled for Ted to halt.
“Stop asshole!”
Ted refused and started sprinting down the terminal hallway. The police officers pulled out their ak-47s and began to fire at Ted. One of the officers threw a grenade and it smacked the back of an elderly woman’s head. The grenade was dead (thankfully), but the impact on the old woman’s head gave her a severe concussion. The concussion left her in a coma for six months in the hospital. Sadly she had no living relatives, or any that cared about her, so no one visited her during the six months. When she recovered from her coma, the fact that no one visited her to see if she recovered sent her into an extreme depression, which led her to check herself into a retirement home. Ted cleverly ran into Dunkin Donuts.
‘Cops love doughnuts,’ Ted thought.
Just as Ted expected, the police officers ran into the fine doughnut establishment, placed their guns in their holsters, and began to wait in line to purchase sixty Boston cream doughnuts (it is a fact that an average cop consumes thirty doughnuts per sitting per law enforcement officer). Ted evaded the law, and the child he and his mother assailed was scarred for life. The young boy would grow up to be Doctor Mayhem, a sexually frustrated super villain that would battle the superhero Captain Raccoon and his faithful boy sidekick Chipmunk Lad. However, Chipmunk lad grows up and becomes the super villain named The Red Badger after years of sexual abuse from Captain Raccoon.
Ted ditched the Dunkin Donuts and left the cops to stuff their faces.  Ted began walking down the C terminal hallway when he noticed a man of Indian origin about to walk past him. As Ted came closer towards the Indian man, he noticed a red dot in the middle of his forehead. Ted tensed up.
“Watch out!” yelled Ted.
Before the Indian could react, Ted pushed the man down. Just as Ted suspected, a bullet was fired and barely missed the Indian. The sniper from a distance threw a hissy fit and was promptly sniped by another sniper. The Indian graciously thanked Ted and gave him a magic lamp. Ted rubbed the lamp and Robin Williams came out of the lamp.
“The fuck you want?” asked Robin Williams with an impatient tone.
Ted was way too confused by the presence of such a celebrity.  The only other celebrity he met was Jabba the Hutt eating everything at a Perkins once. It was actually John Goodman, but who can tell the difference. Robin Williams grew impatient.
“Ok since you are too mentally disabled to respond, I’m Robin fucking Williams and I am here to grant you three wishes.”
Ted was still dumbfounded.
“Alright asshole, I’ll grant the wishes for you. I need to get my dick wet ASAP.”
Before Ted was about to make his wishes, a hippo, a motorboat, and a Dyson vacuum cleaner appeared, circling him. Robin Williams unzipped his pants and went back into his lamp. The materials that appeared swarmed Ted and devoured him.
Never go to Houston Airport.