(The following is an excerpt from my book, Prelude to a Super Airplane. It can be purchased by clicking on any of the roughly 400 banners adorning this site, or by clicking here. It’s also available on Amazon.
I’ve posted the first 20 chapters (roughly 55 pages of PTSA) on this site. Links to each of those are at the end of this post, or you can download all of them as a pdf by clicking here.
This airplane had forty-seven floors. Each one of these was a wonder of technology and function, and a singularly unique creative vision of the future of airplane design.
The first floor of the airplane was the airplane’s airplane baggage cargo hold. This was an unexciting place to be, except that inside this chamber was the best place to hear the airplane’s sixty-two pairs of airplane wheels doing their ascending and subsequent descending upon the take-off and landing of the airplane.
On the second floor of the airplane, above the first floor, which was the airplane baggage cargo hold, was a gas station. This was so that the airplane could refuel itself without stopping. The airplane ran on gasoline, because its creator was a man, and he believed that real men built things that needed crude oil to operate.
The third through fifth floors were the common airplane cabins. These three common airplane cabin floors were not unlike a traditional airplane’s, albeit much more luxurious and futuristic, in both appearance and function. There were both stairways and escalators between these floors, to allow for varied methods of traveling between them. Dual fire station-style action-poles were installed down the middle of the third through fifth floors, and this was simply an aesthetic design choice by the creator. Although not actually conducting electricity, these poles were labeled, “DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE”.
The sixth floor of the forty-seven floor airplane was a retail and entertainment extravaganza complex, and included everything one could want or need on an airplane ride, including, but not limited to, a grocery store, a butcher shop, a hot and trendy dance club, a weightlifting gym, and a ye olde blacksmith’s shoppe.
There was parking for exactly three cars on this floor, and everything was connected by holographic hover-ramps. These ramps hovered at varying levels, anywhere from four to six feet over a giant aquarium, which had a retractable glass cover, and was filled with sharks.
Nobody knew what was on the seventh floor, because it was a secret, and had a large pad-locked door at the top of the rusted, industrial-style stairway leading up to it.
Above that were forty additional floors, each one a luxurious condominium, which exclusive and important people were permitted to lease for vast amounts of money.
There was an option to buy the condominium, but only after a three-year lease term was completed. The creator of the airplane was adamant that only those who were serious about living on the airplane be permitted to buy a condo on it, and this leasing agreement was his way of ensuring that.
There were also forty-one private, hologram-powered elevators on this airplane, each one a private conduit to the condos of the passengers who chose to live there. The forty-first elevator led to the observation deck on the roof of the airplane, which was huge, and dangerous, and exciting to be on.
The cockpit of the airplane was not unlike the bridge of a prominent science fiction television show and movie series. This was primarily because of the design aesthetics of the airplane, and not because it was necessary. Because of the many advanced systems and technologies that ran the airplane, only the airplane Captain, who would also be the airplane driver, needed be in this cockpit, or bridge, for the airplane to fly.
Before boarding the airplane with forty-seven floors, all airplane riders would, on the runway, be entertained with a reunion concert from the original members of Gunz N’ Rozes, who would play their classic hit, “Welcome to the Junglez”. This would happen before each and every airplane ride the airplane would take.
Accompanying the performance would be a dance number by the two hundred airplane employees, who were all beautiful girls with athletic bodies, and under the age of 25. Their uniforms were sultry, seductive cheerleader outfits, adorned with the logo of the company that owned the forty-seven story airplane. Half the employees would have their hair in ponytails, the other half pigtails.
Regardless of their ownership of a condominium, during take-off and landing, all airplane riders were required to reside in their non-assigned seats inside one of the common cabins, as was required by the safety standards of ARMTA, an important governing body of airplane riding.
Only Mac-based personal computers would be permitted aboard this airplane, and anyone found using a Windows-based machine would find it unable to boot. All airplane riders also had to sign agreements that upon boarding, they would only use the metric system, even when thinking to themselves.
Immediately before take-off, each airplane rider would receive a visit from their personal, jet powered airplane waitress, who would give them an autographed photo of their airplane Captain and driver, Bruce Willis. (He was to be the only male airplane employee on the airplane.)
In the photo, Bruce Willis was wearing his airplane driver uniform, and using a flame-thrower to light something on fire. You couldn’t tell what the something was, because the flamethrower was shooting so much fire. There was also a big sound effect that said, “THRAWSHWARRR!!!”
This enhanced the effect and imagery of how much stuff Bruce Willis was setting on fire.
Each airplane rider would get to spend time with their autographed airplane driver photograph until the airplane reached its cruising altitude, after which their jet-powered airplane waitress, who was wearing her sultry and seductive cheerleader uniform, would take it back. She would then seal it inside an airtight protective sleeve for the duration of the airplane ride.
What the airplane rider did with it when they got home was up to them, but nobody would be permitted to leave the airplane with a tarnished photo of the airplane driver, Bruce Willis.
Every day would be Christmas Day on the airplane with forty-seven floors, and riding on it also came with certain other raw, savage guarantees.
One was that it would be the most exciting, privilege-filled, important airplane ride one would ever take. Another was that nothing one could do in life would ever be as exciting or important as that airplane ride. A third was explicit – this airplane ride would be exciting. Finally, a lavish, seven-course Christmas Day dinner would be served on each and every airplane ride, regardless of length.
These guarantees were engraved on solid gold, four-foot tall hologram plaque-bots, one of which was on each of the airplane’s forty-seven floors. The 47 solid gold hologram plaque-bots controlled the vast majority of the airplane’s functions with their advanced, holographic artificial intelligence and their sultry, feminine robotic voices.
One last thing that made this airplane unique was its reinforced hull, internal gravity system, and external laser cannons. In times of peril for the planet Earth, these attributes allowed the forty-seven-story airplane to travel into outer space for up to six hours at a time.
Yes, this was an airplane built by a man. For men. And women. It was built for everyone, and it had forty-seven floors and was exciting and important to ride on.
It was about to change everything, and its creator named it The Super Airplane.
Brad Radby’s Foreward, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 31