Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a bewinged demon bunny with chaos aforethought?
...Well, no, it is in fact a plane. (Sorry if anyone got their hopes up.)
Specifically, it's a fighter jet, painted inauthentically and brilliantly cherry-red and about half a foot long from nose to tail.
The little plane emerges into Milliways in a graceful upwards arc, buzzing thoughtfully around in the rafters for almost a minute before it loses the signal from its controller and slowly describes an unnaturally gentle descent to the ground, where it sensibly trundles into a safe refuge under Martin's chair.
(Maybe one of the patrons decided to lend a helping hand; maybe the Loompas decided they had enough work to do without collecting toy mechanical bits from every nook and cranny. Or maybe even a magical bar at the end of the universe is allowed a sneaking fondness for especially pretty toy planes.)
It is a few minutes before anyone follows the Firefox through the door to claim her.
no subject
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it a bewinged demon bunny with chaos aforethought?
...Well, no, it is in fact a plane. (Sorry if anyone got their hopes up.)
Specifically, it's a fighter jet, painted inauthentically and brilliantly cherry-red and about half a foot long from nose to tail.
The little plane emerges into Milliways in a graceful upwards arc, buzzing thoughtfully around in the rafters for almost a minute before it loses the signal from its controller and slowly describes an unnaturally gentle descent to the ground, where it sensibly trundles into a safe refuge under Martin's chair.
(Maybe one of the patrons decided to lend a helping hand; maybe the Loompas decided they had enough work to do without collecting toy mechanical bits from every nook and cranny. Or maybe even a magical bar at the end of the universe is allowed a sneaking fondness for especially pretty toy planes.)
It is a few minutes before anyone follows the Firefox through the door to claim her.