My Fictional Autobiography: Chapter II

The Streaker

I liked to go to the park when I was young. Every now and then, a man would bring a model airplane he had made in his garage. He would wow the crowd as his small, yellow plane did loops and turns and dives. Sure the park was fun, but it was extremely irritating to watch people be so amused by something so unamusing.

Finally, I had had enough. I left the park and marched straight to my garage where I built a model airplane. I painted it silver with blue flames streaking across the side. It had two small jet engines mounted in the back and had a top speed of 60 miles per hour. I installed a camera in the cock pit, so I could see what the pilot would be able to see. I installed two heat seeking and two laser guided missiles. I also installed two anti-aircraft cannons in the nose of the plane. And with that, the Streaker took off, destination Valplayso.

Sure enough, when I got there, the man was wowing the crowd. But then they saw a second plane. And unknown plane flying higher. Doing cooler tricks. Barrel rolls, nose dives, hairpin turns. The man became extremely jealous of my superior plane. Suddenly, the Streaker started taking enemy fire. The camera in the cockpit turned around to see the yellow plane, hot on my tail. Four machine guns, two on each wing, shot at my plane. I banked hard to the right. I accelerated hard out of the turn, putting some much needed distance between my plane and his. But still, bullets still bounced off my plane. The yellow plane had taken the inside track on my turn, and was gaining on me, tracking me, aiming. He was cutting me off. I turned the throttle hard to the left. The g-forces were great, but my plane could handle them. My plane could turn faster than his. The dog fight had shifted. I saw the yellow plane directly in front of me for a brief second before it banked to the left and dove beneath my plane. I dove right, directly on its tail. I opened up with my anti-air cannons all the while waiting for a missile lock. Black smoke billowed from the engine. And still it flew. I fired a laser guided missile. At the very last second the yellow plane barrel rolled out of the way and the missile sailed past it. But the barrel roll confused the man. He had never attempted such a daring maneuver. For a moment, the couldn't get a baring. Which way was up and which way was down? He hesitated for a second before figuring it out. But by then it was too late. I fired my heat seeking missiles. One hit his right wing and blew it clean off and the second found its mark on the left side, just below the cockpit. There was a big fireball and debris rained down into the field.

The crowd applauded the Streaker for its air superiority. The skies were once again safe. The Streaker flew over the crowd and rocked its wings back and forth as a salute, and then returned home in victory. Though it has never been called into battle since, there may come a time when the skies need protecting. And when that day comes, the Streaker will take off, once again to fly for freedom.