Yeah! Just what I want most when I am feeling down in the dumps: A fucking great preening bird, clicking up and down the aisles of Easyjet’s latest flight, tossing its admittedly rather fine feathers, making that Godawful noise these birds make (the kind of back-of-the-throat grating that sounds as if they have just swallowed a knackered hurdy-gurdy), crapping all over the fixtures and fittings, hogging both toilets (in order to peer yet again in the mirror) and, basically, creating about the same level of emotional support as a long-range missile.
Mind you, the image made me laugh so much, I nearly recycled my toast and Marmite on the spot – and people’s hilarious responses on Facebook (a friend was all for including her pet Charolais Bull on the next available flight) have done much to cheer up the pissingly awful belt of rain unleashing itself all over Glastonbury.
Let’s face it, this endearingly daft idea is no worse than many other side-splittingly weird and wonderful things we see on the News and read in the papers on a daily basis.
In fact, I rather take to the bringing up-to-date of one of the great Biblical stories: Just imagine – an Ark in the Sky (plane, to you and me!) and all les animaux queueing up, in twos of course, patiently (ha, bloody, ha!) at the Security Gate in order to be x-rayed (lest they have swallowed the odd Condom filled with heroin or brought some noxious disease – Peacock Plague for eg – in their various bills, crops, cloacas and others bits and bobs!), their luggage to be opened, checked and sneered at – and then to be let loose in the concourse to run riot, mob the Duty Free shops and clog up the bogs!
Where was I?
Oh yes, about to board Easyjet Flight Noah1 with the known creatures of the Earth. Getting the buggers seated would require the patience of Job. Seatbelts? Christ on a bike! That’s another three hours gone! And the safety instructions would take hours too because everything would have to be said at least five times, and half the passengers would have eaten their safety masks well before take-off.
The cockpit would need to be locked throughout otherwise you’d get bison barging in and getting underfoot, elephant causing the plane to dip alarmingly, monkeys looking for fleas in the Captain’s hair – and sodding peacocks peering through the front window, pecking at the glass and looking at their reflections in the instrument panel.
What with the in-flight entertainment (species eating one another, joining the Mile High Club, throwing up all over the shop and biting the hard-pressed staff), the Patriarch in understandable meltdown and Ham, Shem and Japhet standing around like shop dummies doing bugger-all, this would be the journey from, and into, Hell!
Don’t give me bloody peacocks!!