I’m Just A Man With A Motherfucking Falcon on a Plane

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Abstract

you know how much this falcon makes by the hour? This is a show falcon. A rare breed. At the age of two, this particular falcon massacred a tribe of rare, indigenous falcons in the remote highlands of Malaysia. This falcon was born to kill. You don’t simply let a bloodthirsty falcon loose in the skies and pray it’ll return to its motherfucking sender. Is that what you want Mr. I’ve Got An Issue With Birds of Prey, First Class? You want me to set this killing machine free? Is THAT WHAT YOU WANT?” “Sorry.” “Good. Stewardess! Motherfucking stewardess been ignoring me all flight. STEWARDESS!” “Is there a cage?” “What?” “A cage? I mean, if that falcon really is as deadly as you say it is, then why isn’t it…you know…down in the hold or something, in a cage?” “Corn Bread, you are officially on thin ice.” “I mean, it’s weird enough having a bird on a plane when the bird can obviously fly, but to then have that same bird seated in First Class…and forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that seat next to you reserved for the bird?” “No.” “But it says right there, ‘Reserved for Mr.Falcon the Bird’. That’s the falcon right?” “No. You’re making a mistake.” “Sir, I may be many things but having the inability to read simple English is not one of them.” “One of who?” “What?” “One of who? You said, ‘not one of them’ motherfucker. Who the fuck are them? Are there more of you?” “No, I meant…” “I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT MOTHERFUCKER. You bring your casual ass to First Class and expect the world to fall in line with your tiny steps as you mispronounce words

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and peacock your fucking suit to project inscrutable word analysis on unsuspecting motherfucking passengers preaching tolerance and respect while disrespecting a certain breed of bird who has chosen…CHOSEN MOTHERFUCKER…to perch on my arm and take in the view while it awaits for ITS MOTHERFUCKING NUTS TO ARRIVE FROM THE MOTHERFUCKING STEWARDESS, Motherfucker. I knew you were fucking trouble the moment I set eyes on you.” “But, but…” “BUT NOTHING YOU FRENCH FRIED MOTHERFUCKING LEGUME. What we have here is a situation that I am no longer responsible for its motherfucking outcome. This conclusion is entirely on you.” “But I…” “DO YOUR THING Mr.FALCON!” “Wait…there’s been a misunderstanding…” “ATTACK THIS MOTHERFUCKING CLOWN.” “SQUAWK!” “Stop. STOP! STEWARDESS!” “MOTHERFUCKER GONNA GET THE EJECT. TAKE HIM DOWN FALCON.” “SQUAWK! SQUAWK!” “Some motherfuckers just don’t know when the time is right for silence.”<figure id="95df"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*l0t1hmNwY4e36g2hxDQksQ.jpeg"><figcaption></figcaption></figure>Achieve unheard-of levels of sophistication and greatness and <a href="https://reubensalsa.medium.com/subscribe">subscribe</a> to become a Reuben TODAY!Even better. If you’ve stumbled upon this page and wondering what the fuck did I read and how do I become a Reuben? Fear not…use this <a href="https://reubensalsa.medium.com/membership">referral link</a> and all will not be revealed in an undeliverable email. You have Reuben’s word.</article></body>

I’m Just A Man With A Motherfucking Falcon on a Plane

Mr.Falcon the Bird. Adobe Stock.

“You got a problem Bub?” “Is that…is that…” “That’s right Motherfucker. This here is a fucking Falcon on a motherfucking plane. I ask you again and for the love of Jesus and everything that’s holy in this messed up, fucked up motherfucking world, so help me God, for the last motherfucking time…do you have a problem with that?” “Well…no. But, it’s a falcon right?” “MOTHERFUCKER. Are you TRYING to test my patience?” “Sorry…no offense. But that’s a bird, right? I mean, birds can fly.” “Is that it? Is that what your specific problem is with this situation? That a motherfucking falcon on a plane can not possibly share the same rights as your Colonel Fried Chicken pasty ass?” “It’s a bird.” “Yes, I goddamn know it’s a motherfucking bird. Do you honestly take me for a fool? Do you not think that a man of my obvious status in the world, traveling first class in a souped-up Mercedes of a plane, is not aware that the bird perched on my arm like it’s about to take off and destroy a busload of Korean tourists, doesn’t know he has a motherfucking falcon on a plane?” “When you put it like that…” “When I put it like that? When I PUT IT LIKE THAT? Motherfucker…” “I’m sorry. Really. Can I ask why the falcon can’t…you know…fly?” “Motherfucker…this is a pedigree falcon. Do you know how much this falcon makes by the hour? This is a show falcon. A rare breed. At the age of two, this particular falcon massacred a tribe of rare, indigenous falcons in the remote highlands of Malaysia. This falcon was born to kill. You don’t simply let a bloodthirsty falcon loose in the skies and pray it’ll return to its motherfucking sender. Is that what you want Mr. I’ve Got An Issue With Birds of Prey, First Class? You want me to set this killing machine free? Is THAT WHAT YOU WANT?” “Sorry.” “Good. Stewardess! Motherfucking stewardess been ignoring me all flight. STEWARDESS!” “Is there a cage?” “What?” “A cage? I mean, if that falcon really is as deadly as you say it is, then why isn’t it…you know…down in the hold or something, in a cage?” “Corn Bread, you are officially on thin ice.” “I mean, it’s weird enough having a bird on a plane when the bird can obviously fly, but to then have that same bird seated in First Class…and forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that seat next to you reserved for the bird?” “No.” “But it says right there, ‘Reserved for Mr.Falcon the Bird’. That’s the falcon right?” “No. You’re making a mistake.” “Sir, I may be many things but having the inability to read simple English is not one of them.” “One of who?” “What?” “One of who? You said, ‘not one of them’ motherfucker. Who the fuck are them? Are there more of you?” “No, I meant…” “I KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT MOTHERFUCKER. You bring your casual ass to First Class and expect the world to fall in line with your tiny steps as you mispronounce words and peacock your fucking suit to project inscrutable word analysis on unsuspecting motherfucking passengers preaching tolerance and respect while disrespecting a certain breed of bird who has chosen…CHOSEN MOTHERFUCKER…to perch on my arm and take in the view while it awaits for ITS MOTHERFUCKING NUTS TO ARRIVE FROM THE MOTHERFUCKING STEWARDESS, Motherfucker. I knew you were fucking trouble the moment I set eyes on you.” “But, but…” “BUT NOTHING YOU FRENCH FRIED MOTHERFUCKING LEGUME. What we have here is a situation that I am no longer responsible for its motherfucking outcome. This conclusion is entirely on you.” “But I…” “DO YOUR THING Mr.FALCON!” “Wait…there’s been a misunderstanding…” “ATTACK THIS MOTHERFUCKING CLOWN.” “SQUAWK!” “Stop. STOP! STEWARDESS!” “MOTHERFUCKER GONNA GET THE EJECT. TAKE HIM DOWN FALCON.” “SQUAWK! SQUAWK!” “Some motherfuckers just don’t know when the time is right for silence.”

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Even better. If you’ve stumbled upon this page and wondering what the fuck did I read and how do I become a Reuben? Fear not…use this referral link and all will not be revealed in an undeliverable email. You have Reuben’s word.