So my friend decided to write a 9/11 fan-fiction (more like historical non-fiction amirite) and texted it to me part by part and now that it's done he sent me the full version. It's pretty fantastic, just thought you memers would like to give it a read.
His heart was pounding as he entered the airplane. He took an aisle seat, as he preferred for this flight. "This is no Air Force One" Bush thought to himself. He looked around the plane at the unsuspecting passengers. One a doctor, another a Vietnam veteran, a family was seated in the back. "The perfect flight" Bush whispered to himself with a slight smile. Bush glanced out the window for a second and noticed the luggage being loaded below. His palms began to sweat as he thought about the 100s of pounds of thermite lodged in his bag. If it was found, it would ruin his dream. Bush closed his tired eyes, not for a nap (for this would be a short flight) but for a prayer. A prayer to his sweet, sweet Allah…
Bush opened his eyes. He must have slipped into a peaceful slumber during his prayer. Bush looked out the window to get his bearings. He noticed the beautiful grassy hills below. New York City was approaching. Bush got up from his seat and went towards the bathroom. The door was marked "occupied". Bush rolled his eyes. These bathrooms were trash compared to Air Force One. As time went on, Bush began to become inpatient. A tall redhead man finally exited the stall. "You'll be first to go" Bush thought to himself, and entered the bathroom. Bush sat on the toilet nervously. He could barely hold his "excitement" in him….. After a few minutes, Bush finished his business. He exited the bathroom and returned to his seat. He caught sight of several towers in the distance. The pillars of power. Of strength…. Of America. The time was nearing.
The towers were magnificent up close. Bush had a great view from the cockpit. He had recently pulled out a plastic knife and threatened his way in. The pilot was being annoying and had to be quieted. Lucky the old woman in aisle 4 was willing to sit next to the dead, lifeless body (it's amazing what a knife can convince people to do). A few minutes into the take over, Bush realized a fatal flaw in his plan… There was one Bush and two towers. Time was running out, the towers growing in magnificent size. Bush needed a plan. Luckily he developed one… He would need help from an old friend…
The phone rang several times, Bush waited impatiently. Finally Bush heard a hurried voice on the phone, "I did not have sexual relations with that WOMAN!" "I know, you don't need to remind me have that night Bill". Clinton let out a sigh of relief, "oh it's you George. And don't lie, I know you enjoyed that night". Bush rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile. "I never lied, I never had sexual relation with a woman," Clinton replied, "what do you need Old pal?" Bush's voice suddenly became serious as he remembered where he was, "I need you to help me with 'The Plan'." Clinton knew exactly what Bush was referencing, "you mean operation soaring eagles?" "Yes". Bush smiled, the time had come. It would only be a matter of seconds before he changed America for the better.
The pilot began to sob. "What a weeny". Bush thought to himself. The plane was getting so close he began to make out the faces of each individual person in the tower. Each one staring at the plane in shock. Time seemed to have slowed down. The tip of the plane penetrated …
Explosion
Clinton could see in the distance a glorious firebomb. He could almost feel the calming warmth of thermite. Clinton's plane was only a minute away from its final destination. Clinton turned to the pilot and snapped his weak little neck. If this was to be done, Clinton wanted to do it with his own hands. Clintons plane pushed its way through the smoke, and the pane of glass on the tower that stood before him shattered into a million pieces. Each piece representing a man or woman who was lucky enough to die by his mighty thermite… It was more glorious than previously imagined. The smell…the sound… The overwhelming beautiful sight. It was as if his senses had exploded into pure joy……… Clinton was safe, as he had jumped out of the plane before the spectacular show began. Clinton opened his parachute and began his long trip. Bush was no where in sight. Clinton became worried. What had happened. The plan wasn't finished. He still had one final phase. He needed Bush. The mission needed Bush.
Clinton continued on his mission, uncertain if Bush was still alive or if he had died in a blaze of glory. The pentagon was in sight. It had been hours, but Clinton's parachute skills were top notch. He landed on the building. "Bush!" He exclaimed, "Georgie! The plan needs you!" Clinton's eyes began to water. Bush was his partner, his friend, his mentor… His lover. "Your such a baby" called out a voice from behind. "George!?" Clinton yelled out as he turned. "Guess again." Obama said as he began to laugh. "What… What are you doing here!" Clinton yelled in confusion. Obama smiled slightly, "I'm here to assist you in completing your mission. I guess you could say: thanks Obama." At that moment a loud, piercing noise broke through the the cold September air. A bullet went through his skull…
Obama laid motionless on the ground. "It's about time you showed up." Bush said with an uncontrollable smile. Clinton's eyes gleamed with joy. His legs began to move faster and faster. Bush found himself running towards Clinton as well. They collided with love, there stood Bush embracing Clinton on the roof of the Pentagon. "All good things come to an end…" Bush gently whispered into Clinton's ear. Bush squeezed. There was a small electronic beep. And then there was no more. Smoke swirled up into the morning sun. It began the rain. Allah was crying, but those were no tears of sorrow… But of the purest joy.
THE END.
