A couple of weeks ago I was taking shots for an upcoming post (it’s on its way I promise) regarding my further adventures in Salazar’s magnificent Kahruvel forest. For one particular shot I was standing looking up at Phyneas’ old wooden lookout and refreshing shot after shot until I caught a bolt of lightning.

Suddenly, and with so much a “How do you do?” or “Down in front!”, a WWII German fighter came zooming over low and fast. It may have been a Messerschmitt or a Heinkel, but I think it was just some old Fokker (Boom Boom! Aye thank youse, the ghost of the undead Stan Boardman lives on people).

At first I thought it was just an inexperienced pilot finding the whole ordeal of flying in SL just that, an ordeal. But then he came back. Not once, not twice but several times and each time looping up and over to race at me from behind. I think the idea was to try and hook my horns on his wing and send me flying for a few sims, but he couldn’t quite manage it and eventually gave up. Or crashed. I know which I’m hoping happened and involves burning jet fuel.

It was like a scene from that crappy film about Pearl Harbour… oooo, what was it called. Set in Pearl Harbour during the attack on Pearl Harbour and all about Pearl Harbour. Nope. The name escapes me. Anyhoo, it was like that film, but with German planes instead of Japanese. And only one plane. And a half-man-half gazelle instead of Kate Beckinsale. But other than that and the lack of bombs, American Navy personnel and warships it was just like that film.

Here ends this wittering. You may exhale.