Work Text:
RICHARDSON: O that we now had here
But one, one only, of those brand new fuel lines
They sell in yonder shop!
The OWNER of MJN Air: What's he that wishes so?
My pilot Richardson? No, my sly pilot:
If we are mark'd to stall, we are enough
To do our air dot loss; and if to fly,
The less we spend, the greater share of profit.
God's will! I pray thee, wish not this repair.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold—
Ha ha! I lied! I covet quite a lot
(And that is why you slept in a museum
Midst outdoor sculpture, not in a hotel):
So if it's sin to tend the bottom line,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, good sir, wish not a new fuel line:
God's peace! I would not lose so many pounds
As this repair, methinks, would draw from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Richardson, through my crew,
That we must quickly find some gaffer tape
Or else stay here, sell Gertie off for scrap,
And pence for passage put into our hands:
And leave behind the passengers so dull,
That whine the while they seek the skies with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
They that lift off this day, and safely land,
Will spend a pleasant evening in the pub
And drink them to the name of MJN.
They that fly with us and reach their homes
Will yearly on the vigil bore their neighbours,
And tell them all about their holiday
Then will they take their phones and show their snaps
And say 'This flight I took on MJN.'
Passengers forget: yet all shall be forgot
But they'll remember and exaggerate
The journeys of that day. Then shall our names
Delightful in their ears as "duty-free"
The CEO, Carolyn Knapp-Shappey,
Crieff and Richardson, and my son Arthur,
Be in their seventh rounds freshly remembered.
This story shall the clients tell their friends
And not a holiday shall e'er go by,
From this day to the plummet of the pound,
But MJN shall be remember'd;
This crew, this happy crew—crew and not brothers,
For only Arthur here can truly say
I am his mother; in a little while
This day shall he bring out the cheese tray:
And we tonight in England rest our heads,
Rejoice ourselves because we are not here,
And block our ears whilst Captain Crieff does speak
Of rules we broke upon Saint Crispin's day.
THE STEWARD: Brilliant!