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Pilot by Michael Frissore
One of these days I'm gonna learn how to fly. And not from the roof, flapping my arms, like Uncle Roy tried to do. I'm gonna get my pilot's license. Then I can impress women with it at bars, and throw away that sheriff's badge I made out of orange construction paper. That hardly ever worked. The nice ones just laughed and told me to put some pants on. Others either Maced me, stun gunned me, or kicked me in the crotch.
But not anymore. I'm gonna be a pilot.