Quip, now thoroughly vexed, remarked sarcastically “Oh, so it’s the land of the free and the home of the new Nazi terrorists parading as gate security? What are you talking about? Explosive residue on us and the luggage? Someone must have planted it on us and our luggage! We are not demolitions experts, you clown! Are you sure you know how to read the output of the machinery your mommy put you in charge of? No wonder no one wants to travel through this dysfunctional and paranoid security trap…”
At this point, every alarm that could go off signaling an emergency condition commenced, and a booming voice echoed through the terminal. “This is an emergency fire alert warning! All passengers are ordered to evacuate the terminal area immediately. Leave all personal belongings and leave the building through the now opening emergency exits in an orderly fashion. This is not a drill!”
At that point the TSA alert phone rang, and the guard quickly answered it, expecting information on the fire alarm status, only to hear the words, “Anthrax alert! Close out your position and put on breathing supplements now!”
Simultaneously Quip’s fruit phone prompted him with the message:
Please head for the emergency exit with EZ and everyone else, now that your exit strategy has been enacted. Your next travel support group is waiting for you.
Quip and EZ took full advantage of the situation and briskly moved out along with everyone else. They were promptly met outside by a limo driver holding a sign up with their names on it. Quip and EZ briefly exchanged glances and were rapidly loaded up to leave the airport property.
As they left the airport chaos behind, EZ lamented, “Crap! All our luggage is back there. What are we to do for clothes and, most importantly, my makeup?”
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