Evil Editor strode through the sliding doors of Wal-Mart with the last toiletries he needed for the flight home from his vacation in Southern California. He had chosen carefully, making sure there were no sharp instruments or vessels containing more than one ounce of liquid.
I'll wait till I hit Kennedy before I buy Miss Snark her magnum of Tanqueray, he thought. After all, she won't care where it comes from.
He swung open the driver door of his rental Hyundai, and a burst of Santa Ana wind unexpectedly took hold. The door escaped from his grip and slammed against a glossy black Humvee next to him. He sheepishly glanced around. Good. Nobody noticed. He slipped into the Hyundai and made for the airport post haste.
He thought he saw a black Hummer in his rearview mirror. Nah. Everybody in LA has a Hummer. It can't possibly be the same one.
As he dropped off the rental, he noticed another black Hummer pull into the parking lot. Now nervous, he bolted into the airport and practically threw his carry-on bag at the attendant.
Finally, he settled into his window seat and accepted a plastic tumbler of bubbly from the Steward. With a sigh, he flipped up the window blind to watch the takeoff.
A woman's scream assaulted his ears. It took a second to realize that it was his own.
Filling the tiny window was Arnold Schwartzenegger's angry, purple face. Evil Editor faintly heard the words, "You scratched my Hummer!"
The plane picked up speed. Arnold's expression morphed from livid anger to panic. Seconds later, his face disappeared. "I'll be back!" His voice trailed into the wind.
Evil Editor smiled and slipped his headphones over his ears.