Fake arms and legs are a great thing for people who’ve, ya know, lost their real ones.
But what happens when the replacements fall off as you’re running complicated gadgets?
Lately this seems to be a problem for people with prostheses on planes.
I remember that one story about the drunk lady who took off her own stem sub and started wielding it at plane staff and passengers like a machete. But this week, the story’s a bit more uplifting and proves how a person’s perception regarding limb loss can be everything. While the lady in the former story probably did what I would if I had to go through life suddenly minus a body part (by getting dumb and drunk, waving the faux stump around like a bachelorette with a boa, and throwing shiz)…
… the dude in this story dealt with his arm loss by getting a job as a pilot at a place that doesn’t discriminate against the hand-icapped (getit? #FaceFauxPalm), having an unsullied record, and keeping that record stellar even when his dupe duke detached while conducting fellow species members across the clouds.
Although he may’ve lost his shiz physically, he def kept his inner shiz together enough to land safely sans incident. And when his arm came off, he didn’t even ask for help from his homeboy sitting next to him. I thought that’s exactly what copilots are supposed to be for?
Catching you when you start to fall outta the sky along with a plane full’a fleshbags?
Apparently not in this case. It was a matter of them being off course and time being of the essence or whatever that made that whole DIY minus a claw the safest option. So instead of delegating to the dude riding shotgun, he just kept on sky trucking solo – all the way to the tarmac. As Hoffman’s Hook would say, “Good Form, Jack….”
A lotta people might be wondering why this company called Flybe is hiring “defective” help, but I could ask the same thing about Best Buy. I feel as trolled as the poor troll trying to eat the billy goats gruff under the bridge every time I walk in there when all’s I wanna know is where the motherfluffing USB cables are but instead I keep getting sent to another person like I’m on a treasure hunt for a druglord. And since you’re more likely to die during your commute to work than in a giant electronic store (except when I finally break down soon and commit some frustration induced homicide), the point stands even more. Captain’s hook didn’t result in some spiral to Neverland in an iron bird bearing bodies but as safely as any other day.
In a world where everyday people blame problem-crocodiles (in effect allowing them to keep nomming away at their emotional arm-nubs), this dude who’s actually lost his hand probably did better as Inspector Gadget’s nemesis than most whole folk do. In fact, I vote that we take that arm to best buy, bypass the losers wandering around the store, head straight for the geek squad in the back where we’ll meet with X-hibit, and then pimp his limb out with control panel setting upgrades for work. And a sinister cat, too.
Obviously.
We can call it the “Palm Pilot”.
P.S. What if he’d been the pilot on the flight with the “out of hand” (leg?) lady?
And came back, and took off his arm too and started waving it around like her?
What would’ve happened then? (Aside from the plane crashing?)