Author: acyyz58

Based on The Twilight Zone “The Night Of The Meek”

On Christmas Eve, Captain Corwin, known for his seasonal gig as a pilot at the local aviation-themed department store, stumbles into work an hour late, still clearly under the influence of jet fuel. As complaints from concerned passengers pour in, Dundee, the stern manager, grounds him and orders him off the premises. Corwin, in his pilot’s uniform, confesses that the stresses of living in a rooming house with fellow struggling aviators have driven him to drink, making it impossible for him to play his role as the jolly holiday pilot.

Corwin passionately declares that if he had one wish granted on this special aviation Christmas Eve, he’d “like to see the meek inherit the skies.”

Undeterred, Corwin, still clad in his pilot’s outfit, makes his way back to the aviation-themed bar but is denied re-entry by Bruce, the no-nonsense bartender. Wandering into an alley, he hears the familiar sound of sleigh bells. A mischievous cat knocks over a burlap bag, which was initially filled with empty cans. However, when Corwin stumbles over it, the bag miraculously transforms into a payload of beautifully wrapped aviation-themed packages.

Overjoyed at his newfound ability to make dreams take flight, Corwin begins handing out presents to delighted children and even to destitute aviators attending a Christmas Eve service at a local mission house. The irritated mission proprietress heads outside to fetch Officer Flaherty.

Flaherty takes Corwin to the police station on suspicion of unauthorized gift distribution. Dundee arrives, and to their bewilderment, the once-filled bag is now brimming with empty cans. An exasperated Dundee accuses Flaherty of incompetence. In a surprising turn of events, Corwin produces a vintage bottle of cherry brandy from 1903, leaving Dundee no choice but to set him free. Corwin continues his joyful gift-giving spree until the stroke of midnight when the bag is empty.

A grateful man named Burt, receiving his dream pipe and smoking jacket from Corwin’s magical bag, points out that Corwin hasn’t received a gift himself. Reflecting on his actions, Corwin admits that if he could choose any gift, “I think I’d wish I could do this every year.” Returning to the alley where the bag appeared, he encounters an elf sitting in a large reindeer-hauled sleigh, waiting just for him. Realizing that his wish has come true and he’s now the real Santa Claus of the aviation skies, Corwin takes the reins and soars into the night sky with the elf.

As a still-drunken Flaherty and Dundee emerge from the precinct, they hear the distant jingle of bells and witness Corwin ascending into the night sky in the enchanted sleigh. Dundee invites Flaherty to join him for a warm cup of coffee, generously spiked with brandy, adding, “…and we’ll thank the aviation gods for miracles, Flaherty.

Based on the Polar Express

On the eve of Christmas, a young enthusiast named Ethan lies awake, dreaming of aviation adventures. As the clock strikes midnight, a thunderous roar fills the air, and to his astonishment, a gleaming Aviator’s Express plane appears outside his window, its propellers spinning with festive fervor.

Ethan, wearing his aviation-themed pajamas, rushes to board the aircraft. The crew, adorned in pilot uniforms with golden wings, welcomes him with a warm smile. The Captain, a wise aviator with a twinkle in his eye, hands Ethan a golden ticket for the extraordinary journey that awaits.

The Aviator’s Express takes flight, soaring through the starry skies. Ethan, wide-eyed with wonder, explores the plane’s luxurious cabins transformed into aviation wonderlands. He encounters cheerful Flight Attendants offering hot cocoa and cookies served on propeller-shaped trays.

In the heart of the plane, Ethan discovers the cockpit, where the First Officer invites him to take a seat. With a gentle nod, the Captain invites Ethan to join them on this special night of aeronautical magic.

The Aviator’s Express ventures to the North Pole, where an airstrip covered in snow awaits its special visitors. As the plane lands, the sound of sleigh bells resonates in the air. Santa Claus, a skilled aviator in his own right, arrives on a prop-driven sleigh, ready to spread aviation-themed gifts to children around the world.

Ethan receives a silver bell, a symbol of his journey aboard the Aviator’s Express. The sound of the bell echoes with the joy of aviation, a reminder of the magical Christmas night when he believed in the wonders of flight.

As dawn approaches, the Aviator’s Express carries Ethan back home, where he awakens with the silver bell clutched in his hand. Was it a dream, or did he truly embark on an Aviator’s Odyssey? The silver bell’s gentle chime is a testament to the magic of aviation, leaving Ethan with memories that will soar in his heart forever.

In the heart of terminals, where journeys take flight, A tale unfolds of agents, amidst the holiday light. Airline ticket wizards, behind counters they stand, Guiding passengers with care, across the sky and land.

In the season of joy, where chaos often reigns, Ticket agents brave storms, facing passenger strains. Through the snow-laden queues, and the endless demands, They navigate with patience, ensuring joy expands.

With a smile on their faces, and keyboards at the ready, They weave through the challenges, keeping spirits steady. Passengers with wishes, a mix of cheer and strife, Ticket agents work their magic, shaping each flight.

Amidst the festive hustle, the lines grow long, Ticket agents stay resilient, like a holiday song. They soothe irate travelers, who fret and fuss, With grace and understanding, in them, we trust.

Baggage mishaps and delays, a seasonal dance, Ticket agents waltz through, giving every chance. To mend the woes and fulfill each travel dream, In the face of adversity, their teamwork gleams.

The hum of conversations, the intercom’s call, Ticket agents orchestrate, ensuring smooth install. In the midst of the yuletide, with pressure so immense, They stand as aviation elves, spreading joy and sense.

Yet behind the counters, beneath the festive cheer, Ticket agents juggle stress, a truth crystal clear. Balancing the chaos, with families to adore, They wear the holiday spirit, like a badge they bore.

So here’s to the ticket agents, unsung heroes of the skies, Who weather the storms with resolve in their eyes. In the symphony of travel, where stories intertwine, They craft the magic of flight, making spirits align.

Sing to the tune of Band Aid’s Its Christmas Time

Let them know it’s boarding time again

It’s loading time, there’s no need to be afraid At boarding time, we let the planes in and cargoes weighed And in our world of travel, we can spread a smile of joy Throw your arms around the baggage at loading time But lend a hand, lend it for the loading ones At loading time, it’s hard, but when you’re having fun There’s a plane upon the runway And it’s a world of bags and gear Where the only weight increasing Is the luggage we hold dear And the loading belts that hum Are the rhythmic beats of travel’s tune Well tonight thank God it’s them instead of you

And there won’t be snow in cargo holds this boarding time The greatest gift they’ll get this year is pride Where the bags are neatly stacked No rain nor rivers track Do they know it’s boarding time at all?

Here’s to you Raise a glass for everyone Spare a thought this boarding time for the baggage run If the carousel spun for you, would you survive?

Here’s to them Underneath the airport sun You ain’t gotta feel guilt, just selfless Give a little help to the baggage helpless

Do they know it’s boarding time at all?

Load the world Load the world Load the world Load the world Load the world Let them know it’s boarding time again

Load the world Let them know it’s boarding time again

Load the world Let them know it’s boarding time again

Load the world Let them know it’s boarding time again

Load the world Load the world Load the world Load the world Load the world Load the world (Load the world) Load the world Load the world

Sing to the tune of Last Christmas

In the heart of the Great White North, where the pines embrace, A station attendant, with a smile on his face. Three and a half decades, beneath the northern lights, This Christmas, his last, as he bids farewell to the flights.

Last Christmas in the terminal, by the gate, With laughter and stories, he’ll celebrate. Through ice storms and sunsets, through joy and through tears, He’s woven a tapestry of forty Canadian years.

From the Rockies to the Maritimes, in the windswept prairies, He’s navigated the tarmac, through all the uncertainties. Friendships like maple leaves, golden and bold, In the frosty Canadian air, stories were told.

Last Christmas on the runway, where the jet engines roar, With colleagues and comrades, who’ve become so much more. He’ll miss the snow-covered wings, the northern frontier, As he takes off his badge, with a nostalgic tear.

Through the blizzards and summers, he stood by their side, An airline family, where connections abide. The hum of the engines, the jet fuel perfume, His heart is a cockpit, ready to zoom.

The de-icing trucks spray a farewell salute, To a man of the skies, in a tailored blue suit. The mountains may echo with the engines’ refrain, But in retirement, new horizons he’ll gain.

Last Christmas on the apron, where the wind bites the skin, He’ll miss the jet bridges, the places he’s been. Yet, in the warmth of memories, he’ll find solace and cheer, For the journey continues, beyond the atmosphere.

So here’s to the station attendant, with a heart that’s aglow, In the spirit of Christmas, it’s time to let go. To new skies and adventures, with a fondness so clear, Happy retirement, dear friend, and a Happy New Year.

Sing to the tune of It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

(Verse 1) It’s beginning to look a lot like takeoff, Jets in every gate, But the prettiest sight to see, Is the baggage crew working late.

(Chorus) Ground handlers, they’re hustling, Lifting bags, oh so high, With every load they’re heaving, To the skies, they touch the sky.

(Verse 2) It’s beginning to look a lot like boarding, Passengers in their line, But the happiest sight to see, Is the cargo doors align.

(Chorus) Ground handlers, they’re bustling, On the apron, snowflakes fly, A symphony of engines, As the planes prepare to fly.

(Bridge) Airliners taxi in the night, Underneath the runway lights, And baggage handlers make it right, For a travel-filled delight.

(Verse 3) It’s beginning to look a lot like arrival, As the jets descend with grace, But the loveliest sight to see, Is the baggage crew’s smiling face.

(Chorus) Ground handlers, they’re rejoicing, As the flights touch down with pride, In the world of aviation, Christmas cheer spreads far and wide.

Based on the lyrics of John Lennon Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

(Verse 1) So this is Christmas, and what have you done? In the airline world, another year has run Airliners humming, jet engines so bright Sharing love in flight, in the holiday light

(Chorus) So this is Christmas, for pilots and crew For ground staff and agents, making dreams come true The runway is open, for joy to unfold In the sky of peace, where stories are told

(Verse 2) And so this is Christmas, I hope you have fun In airports and terminals, where journeys begun The baggage is loaded, the boarding complete A symphony of travel, in a holiday beat

(Chorus) So this is Christmas, for pilots and crew For ground staff and agents, making dreams come true The runway is open, for joy to unfold In the sky of peace, where stories are told

(Bridge) And what have we learned, in aviation’s embrace? Together we’ve flown, to every far-off place In the cabin of unity, where differences fade A world in transit, where love is displayed

(Verse 3) So this is Christmas, a time to unite In the aviation family, under the starlight The control tower whispers, a message so clear Fly safe and be merry, in this festive atmosphere

(Chorus) So this is Christmas, for pilots and crew For ground staff and agents, making dreams come true The runway is open, for joy to unfold In the sky of peace, where stories are told

(Outro) War is over, in the skies so high Airlines of love, reaching every sky And so this is Christmas, a season to share In the aviation spirit, love is in the air

Based on a TS Eliot Poem

A Flight of the Navigators

I

A cold coming we had of it, Just the worst time of the year For a journey, and such a long flight: The engines throbbed, their hum in our ears.

II

Dusk wrapped the runway, a shroud of gray, As we taxied, ready to soar, Three wise aviators, on a quest aloft, Chasing the stars, our course sworn.

III

Our cockpit adorned with instruments bright, Guiding us through the night’s deep blue, We sought a beacon, a celestial light, To lead us where our dreams were true.

IV

And the turbulence shook us, a turbulent dance, As we pierced the clouds, through mist and chance, A celestial navigation, our compass true, The journey of the magi, in skies we knew.

V

The radio whispered of a far-off land, A place where new horizons expand, The Magi, in flight, seeking a sign, A destination where destinies entwine.

VI

We arrived at last, our wings outspread, To a place where dreams and runways led, Aerodrome of hope, where the journey ceased, A haven found, our souls released.

VII

Yet, looking back, our eyes grew dim, For the journey transformed the core within, A flight of the magi, through realms untold, A quest in the skies, a story to unfold.

VIII

And now we rest, our wings at rest, In the hangar of time, a quiet nest, The journey of the magi, a tale to be told, Of aviators bold, and skies of gold.

In the midst of World War I, Captain Billy Bishop, the famed Canadian flying ace, found himself in an unprecedented predicament. He was at the controls of his Sopwith Camel, engaged in a dogfight with an enemy aircraft over the battlefields of France. But the outcome of this aerial duel was far from typical.

As Bishop’s aircraft skillfully dodged enemy fire and executed daring maneuvers, something inexplicable occurred. His plane suddenly veered off course and into a strange, swirling vortex of shimmering lights. The world around him warped and shifted, and when he emerged on the other side, he was no longer above the war-torn landscape of 1917 but in the present day.

Confusion and disbelief washed over Bishop as he looked down at the unfamiliar terrain below. Modern cities, skyscrapers, and an array of advanced aircraft filled the skies. He had traveled through time, landing in a world far removed from the one he had known.

Desperate to understand his situation, Bishop made contact with air traffic control and was directed to a nearby airbase. He recounted his incredible story to the disbelieving military personnel, who soon realized that his appearance coincided with the centennial commemoration of his legendary wartime exploits.

As Bishop became an overnight sensation, celebrated for his heroism and unprecedented journey through time, he struggled to reconcile his longing for the past with the reality of the present. The world he had once known, with the camaraderie of fellow pilots and the clarity of purpose in wartime, had been replaced by a complex and unfamiliar society.

Haunted by his longing for the past and the responsibilities of modern celebrity, Bishop grappled with a profound sense of displacement. He had been taken from his own time, and his return had become an extraordinary spectacle that overshadowed his accomplishments as a fighter pilot.

As the centennial event reached its climax, Bishop made a heartfelt decision. He realized that he could never truly return to the past and the camaraderie of his fellow pilots. He could, however, honor their memory by sharing his experiences and the enduring lessons of war with the modern world.

In the end, Captain Billy Bishop chose to embrace the present and the opportunities it offered. His journey through time had transformed him into a symbol of resilience, and his legacy became a bridge between generations, reminding the world of the sacrifices made by those who had fought in the past.

“The Lone Ace” was a testament to the enduring spirit of a war hero, whose odyssey through time had led him to a profound understanding of the value of the past and the potential of the present.

Steve Annison was a name whispered in hushed tones in aviation circles around Toronto. He wasn’t an ace pilot or an aircraft mechanic, but rather, he was a master of the skies in his own unique way. Steve was a repo man, one of the most elusive and resourceful agents hired by financial institutions to recover aircraft and occasionally other high-value assets from owners who had fallen behind on their payments.

His reputation had been forged through years of high-stakes missions. Steve’s rugged exterior concealed the mind of a tactician, always one step ahead. His network was vast, his information sources many, and he had a sixth sense for finding elusive aircraft.

One chilly morning, Steve got a call from a nervous banker at a high-end financial institution. The situation was urgent. A flashy businessman, Mark Hollister, had defaulted on his payments for a gleaming private jet. The jet, a shiny and sleek Gulfstream G650, was a prized possession of Hollister, and he had been using it for his extravagant jaunts across the continent. But now, he was nowhere to be found, and the bank wanted their jet back.

Steve’s eyes glinted with anticipation as he reviewed the case. He knew that this wasn’t going to be easy. Hollister was no ordinary debtor; he was a cunning man, always one step ahead of the game. Steve’s task was to reverse that advantage.

Over the next few weeks, Steve meticulously gathered information. He tracked Hollister’s movements, listened to his contacts, and soon discovered a pattern. Hollister had a penchant for late-night poker games at the upscale Casino Royale, a ritzy spot nestled in the heart of Toronto. It was at one of these games that Steve saw an opportunity.

Posing as a high-stakes gambler, Steve entered the casino one fateful night. As luck would have it, Hollister was there, engaged in a high-stakes poker game, his prized jet the collateral for a mountain of chips.

Steve, with his expert poker face, played his hand well. He engaged Hollister in conversation, subtly steering it toward his luxurious jet. It didn’t take long for Hollister to boast about his private plane, providing Steve with enough information to locate it.

With the help of an inside contact at the airport, Steve managed to get hold of the jet’s flight plan. Hollister was planning a weekend getaway to the Bahamas, and this was Steve’s golden opportunity. He knew that once that plane left Toronto airspace, recovering it would become immensely complicated.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Gulfstream G650 taxied down the runway, ready for takeoff. Steve had one shot to intercept it. With impeccable timing, he made his move. His team descended on the airport, blocking the plane’s path with service vehicles. The airport staff, unaware of Steve’s true identity, assumed it was a routine inspection.

The pilot of the jet radioed the tower, confused about the sudden delay. Steve, wearing an official-looking uniform, approached the pilot and delivered the news: the plane was under investigation for irregular maintenance. They had no choice but to turn back and park. Steve watched triumphantly as the Gulfstream G650 returned to the gate, thwarted in its escape.

Mark Hollister was livid, but there was nothing he could do. Steve had his jet, and the financial institution had its asset safely secured. As Steve walked away from the scene, he couldn’t help but smile. He was the master of the skies, the repo man who could turn the tables on even the most cunning debtors. In the world of high-stakes aviation, Steve Annison was the one who always came out on top.