The Stag

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It’s 10am and the Easyjet flight to Berlin is preparing for take off. “Ladies and gentlemen,” says the female cabin crew member with the unfortunate monotone voice, “as we are currently refuelling please refrain from doing up your seat belts until further notice.” A passenger in row 12 stops a passing male cabin crew member and brandishes a pair of newly acquired headphones. “Got anything I can open these with mate? Scissors or a knife?” The cabin crew member shakes his head. “I’m afraid due to safety regulations we’re not permitted to carry either on board Sir.” Another announcement comes over the PA: “Ladies and gentlemen, as there is a passenger travelling on the plane today with a serious nut allergy, we will be unable to sell any items containing nuts for the duration of the flight.” A member of the stag party in row 14 pipes up: “Let me get this straight. We’ve been asked not to do up our seat belts, someone’s just asked for a knife and now we’ve been told we can’t order anything with nuts in it because someone on board has a serious nut allergy. Are we on candid camera?”

Twenty minutes into the flight and a female cabin crew member stops next to row 14. She sniffs the air. “Is that…alcohol I can smell?” From the depths of his bag the best man from the stag party produces a bottle of bourbon. His friends try to hide the plastic cups in their hands but it’s too late, they have been foiled. “I’m afraid you can’t drink your own alcohol on board,” the cabin crew lady says with  a tone that might be more appropriate for admonishing a two year old who has stolen a toy in nursery than a grown man who has smuggled a bottle of spirits onto a commercial flight. She confiscates the bourbon and the stag party promptly commence purchasing rounds of gin and tonics-both for themselves and the two female passengers who happen to be lucky-or unlucky-enough to be sitting beside them.
 
Three quarters of the way through the flight and the gin-fuelled stag party are getting rowdy. “It’s Michael’s birthday tomorrow,” says one of them. “We can celebrate the stag do tonight and the birthday tomorrow,” says another, pausing before adding, “we can get a cake!” “A cake?” says the best man. “Shut up you wanker. You sound like my mum.” “So what are we going to do this weekend then?” “Well, [the stag] wants to get a beer bike but sod that, I reckon we just get leathered and stay out all night both nights, then go straight to the airport on Sunday morning.”
 
Oh to be a fly on the wall for the return journey…

 

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