Yessir-I’m Hickory Wade, I’ve been flying for twenty-six years, and when I’m 60,000 feet up, barrelling through the air at 650 miles per hour, you can rest assured that I have a plan.

Can you imagine if I didn’t have a plan? We’d be circling JFK for hours. We might not even reach cruising altitude. No, I’ve got a plan, and it’s a damn good one.

Step one: Take off. Step two: fly to our destination airport. Step three: Land. That’s right, land-lubbers. I got a plan, and I follow it to the letter. You know why? Because I care about my plans. Not a dial gets turned in this cockpit without me knowing. Not a glass of champagne spills in the first class cabin without me hearing about it. Not a single goddamned seatbelt is left unfastened when I turn the sign on. When American Airlines needs a pilot who’ll get you from Newark to Columbus with nary a delay or unexpected bout of turbulence, they call the pilot with the plan. And that’s me, Hickory Wade.