Monday, March 17, 2008

The Himalaya Triangle



[The 2008 Olympic Team Captain's Log Entry 1]

We're on our way to Seoul and the flight crew hasn't told us a thing about arrival times, survival rates, etc. They seem to be having a cockpit party. Oh, an announcement...

This is your captain speaking, we’re crossing the Himalayas. If you look out the left side of the cabin, you’ll see a stunning view of the second tallest peak... Uh, my mistake, the tallest peak in India... Uh, excuse me a minute...(hey, did you adjust our altitude for the tallest peak?...WHAT!?

[SKRE-E-E-EEEEE-K-KRASH!]

Okay, that's the last time I fly Air Seoul from Jordan. Wow, look at Vlad go! Quadruple, quintuple, sextuple, septuple, octuple...Wow, I've never seen an octuple salchow before!...Ooh! Messy dismount though. That brings us down to six survivors, but due to frostbite, we're dwindling...not in number, in mass...

[Log Entry 2—three hours later]

"Who ate my toe?" asks Hein, breaking the cold, dour silence with another one of his thoroughly ignorable accusations, disguised as a question. Not one of the other five survivors can stand Hein, so we’re supremely unconcerned about his alleged loss of toe. We certainly wouldn't consume one of his disgusting peddle digits even though we're all starving. No, starving is too strong, we're more 'famished.' It's only been three hours since we crashed and we had just had an in-flight meal. Pheasant under Glass with Garlic/Basil Risotto, and it was frozen pheasant, not even fresh. "In-flight" is really pushing it.

Still, it was food, so we're not nearly desperate enough to start cannibalizing each other. Except for Valko, the Bulgarian body builder. These guys cannibalize themselves if they don't eat every 12.3 seconds. I didn't think Valko would last an hour, but I was wrong. It wasn't until just a few minutes ago that he became dizzy, fell on his back, flailed his arms in the snow for a minute, then died. He made a lovely angel though.

Amber, the figure skater, is taking it really hard. She had high hopes of wearing Valko to her high school reunion. Thankfully, she's dying as we speak. Cause of death? Oh, I don't know, I'm logging it as Failure-to-Live-Syndrome. Of course, then there is the lovely Ludmilla. You've got to admire a girl who gets a 6 foot 3 inch 220 pound body to do anything Olympian. If a rescue party doesn't show up, I might have her shot put me back to civilization. She reminds me of a really pretty, blond, blue-eyed shaven yeti.

Hein has now lost his third finger in four hours and everybody's a suspect, even though we found one of them tangled in his hair. Hein is quite full of himself, so he assumes we are too. Personally, I'd eat anything that was ever attached to Claudette way before I'd gnaw on one of Hein's little piggies. Claudette is a gymnast, so she's fat-free, heart-smart, high fiber, and makes a tasty go-anywhere snack. She keeps complaining she's cold, which is a very astute observation on her part, because we just happen to be stranded in the snow. Nothing gets by her.

Her fingers are turning blue, so I offer to administer a survival technique I'd learned in Coyote Camp. Hein went to go make some yellow snow but when he got up to walked away, his right foot remained firmly planted in the ice. So it looks like I have to put him out of his misery, which isn't easy with only a flare gun. It won't penetrate his flesh so I found another way. It's really cool the way his navel is glowing and you can almost see his lower GI tract.

So it's down to the three of us Claudette, Ludmilla and myself. I'm sitting here amidst the wreckage with all of Claudettes fingers and toes in my mouth and we're both bundled up tightly in Ludmilla, feeling nice and cozy when, lo and behold, the Sun rears it's shiny head. Meanwhile, I'm trying to figure out how to explain to these ladies that, with only a slight repositioning and the judicious removal of one or two pieces of clothing, I could die pretty much the way I've always wanted to.

Wouldn't you know it, look at this; the damn rescue party is here to save us. Of all the rotten luck!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This is what makes being connected to the internet worth while, thank you for the laughter