Passengers have begun to realize that dinner is not being served on this flight. I cannot recall the last time the stewardess walked down the aisle. Rations are running low. The poker players in the back of the upper deck now wager with pretzels, potato chip crumbs, half empty water bottles, and those hard candies granny brought but no one wants. The upper faction has elected leaders who now sit in the front seats with the great view. Congress is in session debating war. The lower faction, now a dictatorship led by the bus driver with the really accurate watch, has realized that they control the bathroom. The poker players are pleased knowing the intrinsic value of their half empty chits increases with every passing minute and every sip. Tension is high. Stomachs empty. Bladders full.
