Hello,

My name is Jonathan Land, and I'm an Independent Travel Agent. I'm currently managing only one client, but this kid is a natural talent. I think with my business savvy and his skill, we can take the travel world by storm by providing a brand new service that'll revolutionize scenic travel.

I discovered him on a Delta flight from Newark, NJ down to Miami. I was going there to view "The Sweaty Palm", a tree that had a picture of a very nervous Mother Theresa on it rendered in some form of mystery condensation that some poor sap was sending out press releases about. She was probably nervous because the tree was located outside of the sullied sex club, "The Hairy Palm", which wasn't her scene, either as a human or a possible projection. Anyhow, I needed to meet this guy to see if I wanted to run a story goofing on him for Comedy Central's The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, where I'm a segment producer (the travel agent thing is a part-time venture).

So here I was, about an hour early for my flight, sitting at the gate with about 10 similarly time-anal passengers when all of a sudden this guy wearing a green jumpsuit saying "Baggage Handler", a pilot's hat, and little pin of wings pops up. He said, "Get in, we go, we go now, go go go, now now now, time is right!" and then made little airplane noises and performed a little flight simulation with his right hand of a plane taking off.

Three people went to the ticketing area to find out what the hell was happening, but the other seven of us got on because a flight's a flight, and the novelty of not leaving late made us all giddy as Japanese schoolgirls are purported to be. I wish I was given more of a heads up so I had time for the valium to become effective because that's an important part of my flight ritual. I just hopped into the plane's restroom, broke the mirror, chopped the stuff up with one shard and and did a few lines off of a bigger chunk through a thinly rolled straw of that super-hard airplane toilet paper. I'm the MacGuyver of tranquilizers! I sat down, buckled up, and hoped that no one would associate me with the bathroom damage.

Right from the start, this flight was a little different then the ones we've all been accustomed to. Normally there's at least one flight attendant visible and some announcements before take-off concerning passenger safety and what to do in case of an accident, but the pilot was obviously having none of that.

He knew his vessel and his passengers well enough A) to realize that we were a group of experienced flyers, and we can take care of ourselves, and B) to take a ballsy, confident approach to air-safety in a sense to say: "You leave that information leaflet in the pouch in front of you, you won't be needing it," and "You folks at the emergency exits might as well seal them shut with crazy glue, you're getting out as you got on. If God wanted you to be in a disaster... well get the hell off of my plane now, because everything will be perfectly routine here today."

And then we were off. I got my crossword book out, and I was trying to look for a puzzle which had no negative words in regards to flying or anyone who's died in the process such as "explosion", "fire", or "Denver"; but each and every last one of them had the word "down" written on there which I know is supposed to be part of a typical crossword puzzle, but it was just SO ominous. I couldn't help but associate the word with the involuntary non-landing "down" associated with aviations more tragic moments. So I put it away and played turtle by pulling my shirt over my head until we reached cruising altitude.

When I surfaced about an hour into the trip I realized 2 things: 1) The turbulence was the worst I had ever experienced, like we were flying over potholes, and 2) we were flying startlingly low. My clue was when I saw the exit sign for Philadelphia on the New Jersey Turnpike roughly at eye level. At first I thought it was normal because we were on one of those huge 777s that would naturally require a longer runway, but then my suspicions got the best of me. Of course, my only experience with lift and thrust was with a buxom teen hitchhiker on a sink in a Burger King bathroom, but even I knew we should have been airborne by now.

I went up to the cockpit to find out what the deal was. When I slid the door back, I saw that the pilot was the same guy in the jumpsuit from before. "Gobackensitdonna," he said as he shooed me away. I sat down in the co-pilot's seat to have a heart to heart.

"Hi, my name's Jon. What's yours?"

"Me pilot."

"OK, Pilot," I said. "I'm a little curious. Do you mind telling me why we're on the ground still?"

"Go Miami"

"Uhh... yeah, Go Miami!!! Rah rah rah, what's the spread?"

We were both totally confused now, and since my valium was in the middle of its peak effect, I was processing things very slowly. Half an hour later I looked through the window and I saw that we were coming up on the Deleware Memorial Bridge toll booth.

"Listen," I said, "We're coming to the last stop on the turnpike, and the toll on this thing's going to be killer. I think we should hop the turnstyle on this one, especially since you didn't grab the ticket at the entry point!"

"Eh?"

"GO OVER!"

"Eh?"

"FLY!"

"Okee-dokee!"

He then fired up the jets, pulled back on the controls and we hopped over the thing beautifully and landed with grace and poise. It's like we just floated over it. He seemed very surprised that he did it. I however, had confidence in the little guy.

We came up on another toll plaza immediately afterwards. He said: "Watch." He cracked open the left window and then jumped it like before, but this time... I swear to God.... he dropped the fifty cent toll right in the little basket in mid-air... nothing but net. We slapped each other five and drove on.

At this point I was thinking about what a shame it was that I wasted all of that valium on a clearly non-panic situation. This guy was a good guy... I didn't know who he was, or why he hijacked a plane to Miami that he couldn't fly, but his heart was in the right place. He didn't seem malicious or dangerous... just a guy on a good old fashioned joyride.

I realized I had been away from the main cabin for longer than I expected and that I should probably make up something to tell the other passengers. I said that I was actually a Delta flight attendant and I explained to them that they were part of a pilot program (so to speak) that combined the fun of scenic travel with the speed of flight.

"Well, this doesn't seem to be particularly speedy," said one curmudgeonly old man.

I had already anticipated this comment and was prepared to deal with it.

"We here at Delta appreciate your comments, and as a commitment to our stellar service we will do everything possible to make your Delta experience the Platonic ideal of scenic aviary travel. As a matter of fact, I'll go up to the pilot right now and see if we can remedy this situation!"

I went to talk with the pilot and I noticed that the freeway traffic was awful queuing through yet another toll booth. We didn't have the distance to get the speed to hop over it, and it appeared that the toll was for the Harbor Tunnel in Baltimore. Was he trying to hide? He didn't seem like the fugitive type. Figuratively this made us stick out even more like a sore thumb, but literally, how much further under the radar could we fly? Were fellow motorists begun to call the police on their cell phones, or were they too visually dumbstruck to hit the talk button? Did they think this was a movie? That would have been the most logical explanation. By the time I questioned his decision we were already in the tunnel shooting of bright yellow sparks from the top of the plane and the tips of the wings. I figured out how to turn on the plane's Muzak system and I blasted it.

I ran back to the cabin to see the effect. It was beautiful, and the little fireworks display completely appeased the passengers for now.

"Is this great or what, people? Let's hear it for Delta!!! Come on, give it up!"

They all cheered. Now more then ever I realized I was a part of something special.

To cut a long story short, after we got out of the tunnel, I discussed with my pilot friend using the jets more liberally for speed on open stretches of highway. We needed to come through on my speedy promise, plus there were now many police cars and helicopters on our tail. I left the Muzak up so the passengers wouldn't hear a trace of the sirens, but with the jets going, it was a moot point.

I won't get into the air rage incident in the 11th hour with a stir-crazy passenger that I handled with a swift blow to the head with a random object, or the humiliation I experienced when arguing with a young female I decided to court about the basic principles of the "Mile High Club", who completely missed the point. There was this other young woman who was an intern for a legislator in Florida who I asked if she'd like to "check my proposition number one", but that just created a bad tension between us. Our service could use better customer service, but it was our first trip (even before we established ourselves as a service!), and we were learning.

At one point I did finally ask the pilot, "Why go Miami?" He said the following:

"Before me no (makes hand motion of plane taking off), now me (makes hand motion of plane taking off)."

"So you've just always wanted to be a pilot and now's your time to shine?"

"No, now me (makes hand motion of plane taking off)."

Then he took something out of his pocket to help explain his motivations. It was a vial of that "Natural Viagra" stuff that's advertised in people's e-mail all of the time. I don't know if I was more impressed that he responded and got the product or that the product apparently worked.

"Now me (makes hand motion of plane taking off). Me babymaker now. Me go find sweetie."

I got a little more info when I pointed out that it was starting to storm and he seemed a little scared. I said, "I'm no meteorologist, but, I think we'll get through this ok."

To which he said, "You no meaty urologist! Meaty urologist say, no (makes hand motion of plane taking off) again. Me now (makes hand motion of plane taking off). You believe. You help me babymaker with sweetie. You good guy!"

"I see... well go Miami!"

"Go Miami!!!"

I've never followed another man's penis before, and I can't imagine doing that ever again, but this was something very important. It was the right time and the right place and this event had to happen. This man's intentions were good. He wasn't trying to simply bang the only two women on the plane like I was. He was finding his sweetie and stying to start a family, and if this guy's progeny are even half as kind, intelligent, brave, and adept as he is, then the world will be that much better of a place for accepting them into it.

We made it to Miami in about 15 hours. I called up Pilot's estranged girlfriend to tell her the good news about Pilot's virility, and that she should meet him at a hotel since her house would be swarming with cops. She was amazed at the measures he took to be with her once again as a "whole man". We jetted the last hour and he and his sweetie had a very intense, passionate, and loving 10 minutes together before the cops detained him.

I'm currently living with Pilot's pregnant girlfriend, awaiting his release from jail in another six months. I feel like I owe it to the guy to take care of her (for once I don't mean that sexually) in his absence, and provide for her and their daughter until he's able to.

Once he gets out, we plan on starting up our little travel venture together. Sightseeing by plane. We're calling it PilotLand Tours. Pilot and I are an excellent team. All we need is a plane, and we're good to go. We'd be a great asset to your travel company, and we'd greatly benefit from your financial support to get us off the ground.... not that we'd get off of the ground, of course :)

Thank you, and I hope to hear from you,
Jonathan Land,
CEO, PilotLand Tours, LLC.