cabin pressure 01 - Abu DDhabi | Текст песни

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• cabin pressure 01
• Abu DDhabi

(Bing-Bong)

DOUGLAS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, First Officer Douglas Richardson here. Just to let you know, we're making our final approach now into what I am fairly sure is Fitton airfield..unless it's a farm..or just possibly the A45. It's not the sea, because that's blue. I should perhaps explain that Captain Crieff and I have a sportsman-like little bet on today about who can fly the best after drinking a litre of Vodka through a straw. The Captain went first. You may have noticed the takeoff run was a little bumpy, particularly over the golf course. Now it's me to land, just as soon as I decide, which of these two runaways to aim for. And I'm happy to tell you that I feel lucky. So on behalf of all your crew today, may I just say, geronimo!

Opening Credit (by BC) - This week, Abu Dhabi!

MARTIN: Blessed.
DOUGLAS: Ah, yes, of course. May!
MARTIN: Hmm, yup. Cant!
ARTHUR: Here we are, gents. Coffee with nothing in it. Tea with everything in it. Great cabin address, Douglas? I love cargo flights.
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Arthur.
MARTIN: Ooh, Eno?
DOUGLAS: Ooh, Eno?
MARTIN: Ooh, Eno.
DOUGLAS: Ah..yes! Sewell.
ARTHUR: Oh, what are we playing?
MARTIN: Brians of Britain.
ARTHUR: Then there must be loads of them! Uh, um..
DOUGLAS: Well, not to worry, as they come to you.
ARTHUR: Oh, who's that guy? Hm, oh, gray haired, did that game show, "Can I have a P please, Bob?" Uh..what's his name?
DOUGLAS: Your hope being that it was Brian..?
ARTHUR: Yeah, Brian..Uh..Brian..
MARTIN: Bob Holness. It was Bob Holness.
ARTHUR: That's it! Oh..Well, does he count anyway?
DOUGLAS: Does Bob Holness count in our list of people called Brian. What the hell, yes, he does. Well done!

(over the intercom)
Tower: Golf-Tango-India, expect twenty min delay due runway inspection. Enter the hold at arden. Maintain seven thousand feet.
MARTIN: Golf-Tango-India, Roger. Hold at arden. Maintain seven thousand feet. Can you confirm delay only twenty minutes?
Tower: (exhales) Probably..All depends, really.
MARTIN: Thank you, Tower. Hugely informative as ever. Out. (turns off the intercom) Sorry, chaps, looks like we'd better divert to Bristol.
ARTHUR: Bristol? Why?
MARTIN: Fitton's got a runway closure. We'd have to hold for twenty minutes
ARTHUR: But Bristol, that's miles away.
MARTIN: Yes..Luckily enough though, we are in an aeroplane, specially designed to be good at going miles away quite quickly.
ARTHUR: Yeah..But my car's at Fitton.
MARTIN: Oh, well then, let us, by all means, circle round it until we drop out of the sky.
DOUGLAS: Do you know, Martin, all these years and I've never been to Bristol?
MARTIN: We'll get ready for a treat.
DOUGLAS: I don't know. I was rather hoping not to break my duck.
ARTHUR: Skip, are you sure there's not enough fuel to wait, because there's always a little bit left when the guage shows red.
MARTIN: Yes, oddly enough, Arthur, a jet aircraft isn't as precisely similar to a Vauxhall Corsa as a stupid person might imagine. We're going to Bristol.
ARTHUR: What do you reckon, Douglas?
DOUGLAS: We could go to Bristol, I believe. People do. However, we've easily enough fuel spare to hold for twenty minutes, maybe even thirty.
MARTIN: Yeah, I'm sorry, but we are diverting.
ARTHUR: Yeah, hang on a tick though, If Douglas reckons twenty minutes..
MARTIN: No, let's not hang on a tick. Let's listen to the Captain, shall we?
DOUGLAS: Of course, Martin, if you say we divert, then divert we shall.
MARTIN: Thank you.
DOUGLAS: Unless of course we were to smell smoke in the flight deck.
MARTIN: What?
DOUGLAS: I'm just saying, if by any remote chance, we smelt smoke in the flight deck, we would of course be duty-bound to land at the nearest available airfield with immediate priority. In this case, by a happy coincidence, Fitton.

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