It was times like this where Yuri hated spy movies. According to the widespread belief contained within said genre, the cargo sits promptly in place without the slightest stir. This can be the case when it has been securely fastened within the container with nets and ropes. Unfortunately, his kidnappers/foilers had failed to provide him with the proper supplies for this to be the case. If one were take the cinematic adaptations of Ian Fleming's works, then there would not be so much as a jostle and the russian could enjoy a cold glass of Bollinger (appropriate vintage), accompanied with caviar and foie gras. However these preconcieved notions simply fail to adhere to the laws of physics. A container may possibly weigh several tons, so the crane must have the lift capacity to shoulder such a burden. And one containing but man, AK, and potatoes would be considerably lighter than the heaviest container. This would not be a problem and the journey a smooth one if a trained professional was at the controls. Yuri doubted that his enemies could find one in their midst.
So here he was was, bracing himself in a corner, hoping that whomever was mangling these controls hadnt seen the interior of a sake bottle this evening. A sharp enough pitch would easily send him reeling into the other side, with a half ton of moldy potatoes soon to follow. It is here that our protagonist would not like to make claims for the dear reader, but to suffocate after being severely injured by an onslaught of subpae spuds is not one of the more preferable modes of death. So he stood, legs wide and alert, hoping for the best. Keeping alert, never knowing when the dice that fate had cast could turn against him. There were several moments when he thought this little sojourn would turn sour, and Yuri was glad to know he was not amongst those that turned ill easily when one's sense of balance was stressed. Eventually there was a dull thud, and the Russian finally buckled. Well the hopes for a soft landing were dashed, how about for smooth sailing? This fate Yuri determined to be his when time went by and there was nay a sound of engine to be heard, nor much for the scuffle of man. He took the zippo out of his pocket and struck it against the pant leg. Circling about the container withered and danced until it found a source of fresh oxygen. At least asphyxiation wasn't going to be a problem, even if the smell of rot would still linger. Yuri shut the lighter with its almost trademarked click. He stared into the dark gloom. There would be very little light throughout the trip. To where, not even the divine knew. Just a man in the darks. With his daydreams of conspiracy, and the nightmares of his past.
Sic Semper Tyrannosaurus
Dave.
I was at : 4244 NW 76 Terrace, Gainesville, FL 32606,
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