“Fly the skanky skies, Ass!”

Hey, Billy.

“Got a plane, fucker! Gonna do some barrel rolls, some loop-de-loops.”

They’re not letting you fly that thing, are they?

“I was talking about my on-board fuck styles.”


“You know the best thing about private planes?”

You can fuck in ’em?

“You can do anything in ’em, but that’s not it. Best thing is the private gates you get to go through. There’s, like, no security. I got four guns on me. On me. My person.”

I get it. Why do you have four guns on you?

“Because I lost one on the way over. Usually have five,”

Why do you need any weapons, Billy?

“Shit might go down.”

Where do you even keep them?

“Got a .22 under the hat.”


“.38 in the small of my back.”


“.35 cal Smith and Wesson on the ankle.”


“There ya go.”

Where’s the fourth?

“Don’t worry about it.”

Are you kiestering pistols again, Billy?

“Shit might go down.”

You should not bring any of that to an airport, regardless of how private the gate and plane are. What if you lost a gun there?

“That’s it! I left the .42 in the Chili’s Express. I stopped at the Chili’s Express.”

I got that. Why is every gun a different caliber? That means you have to have four different kinds of ammo.

“I shoot according to mood. My calibers are like a painter’s colors. The .38 is a workingman’s caliber. The .42, though? That’s straight elegance.”

Whatever you say, Billy.

“Yknow what else is nice about the private planes? The stewardesses, man.”

They’ve been called flight attendants for, like, 35 years, Billy.

“Not on private planes! Y’still get to grab their asses, too!”

Please don’t do that. Current acts of sexual harassment aren’t covered under the Remaining Rock Stars Protocols.

“I’m pretty sure the RRSP is full coverage.”

Yes, for back in the day. Everything you did back then, we’ve all agreed not to mention. But you’re still liable for shit you do now.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.”

I’m gonna ignore that. Don’t grab anymore ass, Billy.

“This sucks. I miss the old days.

Holy shit, don’t mention missing the old days. Not in public, at least. Just don’t say anything into a microphone for a year or so.

“Ah, fuck it. I still got the skankjet. Thinking about joining the pile-high club.”

I think you mean the mile-high club.

“No, the pile-high. Y’put the skank on the ground. Then you get, like, six or seven guys.”

I get the picture.

“You wanna see pictures? I got tons.”

Enjoy your flight, Billy.

“My boner is in the fully upright position.”