Bird strike?
So I flew in here to Phoenix from Flagstaff because my manager doesn’t have a map. He chartered one of those small private jets. I flew here on a small plane that was like the size of a pack of gum with eight people in it. We were putzing along. We were going half the speed of *smell!* We got passed by a kite! There was a goose behind us and the pilot was yelling “Go around!” So about halfway through the trip, we start losing oil pressure in one of the engines, and the pilot says we have to turn around. It was a nine minute flight, but couldn’t make it with that equipment. He came over the intercom and said “Hey, we’re losing oil pressure in one of the engines,” which I couldn’t understand why he did, because he could have just turned around and said, “Hey, we’re losing oil pressure.” *”heard’ja”* Everyone else started freaking out, but I had been drinking since lunchtime, so I was like “Take it down! I don’t care! Make sure y you hit something hard, ‘cause I don’t want to limp away from this!” The guy next to me is *losing his mind*. I guess he must have had something to “live for”. He says, “Hey man, if one of the engines goes out, how far will the other one take us?” I look at him. “All the way to the scene of the crash! Which is pretty lucky, because that’s where we’re headed! I bet we beat the paramedics by a good half hour! We’re haulin’ ass!”