(Before begining this chapter, if you haven't already, don't forget to vote in the Bad Movie Ultimate Cage Match!)
"Well now, he might not be AFTER me. Maybe he just needs help and I'm the only one he can turn to?" I ask, while Rick fast and furiously drives back to LAX.
"Whatever you say. We just have to get him before he gets on that plane."
We arrived at the airport in record time and ran to the ticket counter. A ticket agent was typing at her computer. She looked up at Rick as he flashed his badge.
"F.B.I. Did you sell a ticket to this individual?" Rick asked while showing a picture of Adam he got from Adam's apartment. The ticket agent looks.
"Oh yeah. He had a weird name. A Mr. Grrrr Rrrrr."
"Grrr Rrrr?" Rick asked.
"Yeah, that'd all he'd say."
"And you sold him a ticket anyway?" I asked
"He seemed pretty passionate about getting on that plane. Who am I to stop him?"
"When does that flight take off?"
"I'm sorry, it took off twenty minutes ago."
"Damn it!" Rick shouted. The entire airport stopped and looked.
"Can we get on the next flight to Indianapolis?" I asked, hoping to calm down the now scared ticket agent.
"Uh...the next flight isn't for another four hours."
"DAMMIT!!" Rick shouted again. He leaned over the counter and says right in the agents face, "DO YOU REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?"
The agent, who was wearing a name tag but her long blonde hair was in the way, was about to cry. I realized it meant by the time we got on the plane, Adam would be landing in Indianapolis. We needed to stop him before he got there.
I turned and looked out a window that I'm sure isn't normally there and noticed a couple of private planes just rolling around the tarmac. I tapped Rick on the shoulder and pointed out the window.
"Couldn't we just take one of those?"
"We can't afford to buy a private plane. Bailouts, you know."
Holy shit, I was right.
"Well, can't you 'borrow' it, like they do in the movies?"
"That's against the law. That's considered...you know. The H-word."
I nodded. I didn't wanna say the word in a crowded airport as well, with an F.B.I agent next to me or not.
"But you wouldn't be forcing anyone. If they say no, just go 'ok' and try the next one."
Rick couldn't find any argument against that so he sighed and said ok. We quickly ran out onto the tarmac and found the nearest private jet, about to take off. Rick pulled out his badge and stood in front of the plane. The pilot saw him and looked questioningly.
The plane came to a stop and the door opened. Rick, still holding his badge, says "I need to commandeer this plane. It's a national emergency!" The pilot shrugged his shoulders and extended the ladder. Rick and I climbed it and go on board. Rick shook the pilot's hand.
"Thank you, sir. I'm Special Agent Rickard Springfield. This is Jason Soto."
"Yes, from Invasion of the B Movies," I quickly added. The pilot looked at me, confused. Obviously he never goes on the internet.
"We need to find a plane that left from here going to Indiana approximately twenty minutes ago. Once we locate said plane, we will exit your plane and you can go on your way."
The pilot, who's nametag read James Dunn, just nodded and said "Ok, but you might want to explain that...to HER."
James pointed to the cabin. I turned and look and saw there were only a few seats. In one of the seats was a person wearing a lampshade on their head, a small set of window blinds coving their face, and a curtain for a dress. I'm assuming this was a female. When Rick and I stepped into the cabin, the female person finally acknowledged our existance.
"What is the meaning of this?" the female demanded.
"I'm sorry...ma'am? This is a national emergency. We have to stop a plane."
"Fine, whatever. I'm late for the New York Fashion Show."
I half wondered if we stumbled onto the filming of the sequel to "Bruno". Then the female pulled the drawstrings on the window shades and I got a clear look at her face.
"Oh my god. You're...Lady Gaga!"