[pshrynk]

Harv worked feverishly at modifying the harnes of the parachute to the specs given by the sock with the safety pin. He paused briefly to try and figure out how he knew what the sock had been "saying," discovered that his mind went blank and went back to work. Vivalditried to engage the autopilot in small talk.

"So, been an autopilot for long?"

"You're just trying to cheer me up. It won't work."

"Not really, I just get bored easily."

"So you talk to inanimate objects just to pass the time?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Just an hour ago, I was talking to a pair of socks."

"It is difficult for me to fathom that there is someone in the universe more pathetic than me."

"Yah. Anyway, I've been working on a new story about Harv and Vera. I havne't been able to write much, because Harv keeps dragging me on these adventures. Do you suppose there's any way to put all this on autopilot so I can have a life of my own?"

"Don't talk to me about life."

"Okay! Got it! I hope this works." Harv eased himself back into the pilot's seat. "Um, Viv?"

"Yeah Harv?"

"Any idea why we're flying at about thirty feet elevation?"

"Well the autopilot seems a bit depressed..."

Harv and Vivaldi looked out the windscreen at the rapidly approaching coastline with its attendant small, but considerably higher that thirty feet, and severely hard mountains and started screaming.