By BOB WIRE
At last count, 26 countries were involved in the massive search for Malaysian Airlines Flight 370, which vanished March 8. Was it hijacked? Crashed? Replaced by a doppelgänger? Sucked up into the heavens? No one knows. At press time, a satellite has captured an image of two large objects in the sea 1500 miles southwest of Australia. Search craft are en route to the remote area. The fate of the plane and its 239 passengers and crew remains unknown.
We have obtained transcripts of radio communications between ships and aircraft of several of the nations involved in the search.
Australian maritime patrol aircraft AP-3C Orion: “RSS Steadfast, come in. This is Fierce Koala. What is your position?”
Singapore: “Our position on what?”
Australia: “Steadfast, what is your current location?”
Singapore: “We are currently out in the ocean, way out there. Cannot see land from here. Looks like it’s deep as hell.”
Australia: “Can’t you give me some coordinates, mate? Who’s in charge there?”
Singapore: “Sorry, mister, Singapore is not exactly a superpower, you know? This ship is our entire Navy. We won it in a mah jong game with the Philippines last weekend. We…wait! I think I see the crashed plane! Right there! Oh…it’s just a fish. Ne’ mind.”
Australia: “We’re signing off now, mate, g’day.”
Norway: “Australia, this is the HNoMS Törkenharder. Do you copy?”
Australia: “Clear as wallaby piss, Törkenharder. Go ahead.”
Norway: “Be advised we are turning back. I repeat, we are turning back.”
Australia: “Why? Are you in trouble? Is there a problem with your ship?”
Norway: “We are completely out of sunscreen and are down to our last four barrels of lutefisk. The crew is in danger of a bad sunburn.”
Australia: “What is your current position, Törkenharder?”
Norway: “We’re 300 nautical miles directly north of Puerto Rico.”
Australia: “That’s in the Bermuda Triangle, ya Wally! What are you dags doing out there?”
Norway: “It seemed like a logical place to start looking. The water is a lot shallower here.”
Australia: “Well, good luck, ya no-hopers. Hang on, we got France trying to earbash us. Go ahead, France.”
France: “Bon jour, Australia! This is the French zeppelin Je Suis Perdu. We are on a South-Southeast course at 400 meters of altitude over the Persian Gulf. We will be crossing ze United Arab Emirates to reach ze Gulf of Oman. Henri! Keep a steady course! I almost spilled my bordeaux! Excuse-moi, Australia. My co-pilot is a, how you say, boob.”
Australia: “Well, stone the crows, mate, you’re the first dirigible to join the party. Let me check with the UAE blokes to get you clearance to enter their airspace. Come in UAE.”
UAE: “By the burnoose of Allah, our control tower at Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan International Airport has made visual contact with the French blimp.”
France: “It is not a blimp, you bearded troglodyte. It is a zeppelin. A blimp is a bag of gas. Like ze American, Kanye West.”
Australia: “Ha, that’s a ripper, mate. UAE, we need your approval for the French bli…ah, zeppelin to cross into your airspace to join the search. Please respond.”
UAE: “The baguette-chewing infidels have already crossed into Dubai, sir. Perhaps they should alter their course because they are heading directly into the top of the Burj Khalifa.”
Australia: “Blimey, isn’t that the world’s tallest building? Shaped like an inverted thumbtack? Why, they’ll be…”
France: “Sacre bleu!”
[There is a loud pop, followed by hissing.]
UAE: “Clearance granted.”
Japan: “Australia, this is Japanese submarine Jujitsu requesting permission to join search for missing plane.”
Australia: “Good on ya, mate. What is your current position?”
Japan: “Bottom. Bottom of ocean.”
Australia: “Well, that’s a good place to start, the way things are going. How long have you been down there, Jujitsu?”
Japan: “Since May 1945. We are waiting to receive word that war has ended so we can surface and return home.”
Great Britain: “Japan, this is Commander Elton Walkoff-Puddler of the Queen’s Royal Navy. Be advised that World War II is over, and you may safely return to port.”
Japan: “That is good news, Commander. Smelly in here. Very smelly. Smell like sushi dog food.”
Australia: “Godspeed, Jujitsu. Sounds like you need a shower more than we need a U-boat at this party.”
Italy: “Is that a U-boat? I thought it was-a MY boat!”
Australia: “Very funny, Italy. That one never gets old. Italy, I don’t see your country here on the official search team list. What is your involvement?”
Italy: “Oh, we’re not involved. I just got this molte bene eavesdropping app for-a my iPhone, and I’m-a listening in.
Australia: “Sir, are you a technocrat?”
Italy: “No, I’m-a shaving.”
Australia: “You’re gonna have to clear this channel, mate, this is for official use only.”
Great Britain: “Yes, kindly bugger off, Italy.”
Italy: “A-OHHH! Englishman, take-a the kippers out of your mouth and-a say that again. You might come home to find a horse’s head in-a you bed.”
Vietnam: “This is the Vietnam People’s Navy frigate HQ-013 Phat Ho. We are on a western course in the Gulf of Thailand.”
Thailand: “Hey, Phat Ho, who said you could sail into our Gulf?”
Vietnam: “Thailand, be advised this is an international rescue operation and cooperation among nations is paramount to our success.”
Thailand: “Oh, listen to the vocab on mister Western Education. Hey, Vietnam, do you know the capital of Thailand?”
Vietnam: “Sure, it’s, uh…”
[There is the sound of a punch, and a deep moan of pain.]
Thailand: “Bangkok! Ha!”
United States: “Good one, Thailand. Give Vietnam and inch, and they’ll take a mile.”
Vietnam: “Oh, the Imperialist running dog weighs in. Hey, America, you want to make it best two out of three?”
United States: “Very funny.”
Australia: “Mates, I’m gonna have to ask you to clear this channel. We may be receiving a distress signal.”
Russia: “Attention, search coalition. This is Vladimir Putin, piloting the Tupolev bomber Badson Novabich. I am now in charge.”
Australia: “Keep your shirt on, Putin.”
Russia: “Too late.”
Bangladesh: “This is Bangladesh ground troops. We are amassed at the border of India, ready to march.”
Australia: “Ah, that’s a big negatory, Bangladesh, this is not a military invasion. Stand down immediately. Why are you entering India?”
Bangladesh: “Why, curry, of course. They have the best. Even though we have the best and most famous tigers.”
Thailand: “Go, Bengal Tigers!”
Bangladesh: “Whoop whoop!”
Australia: “Attention all nations, be advised that the search has been narrowed to an area off the west coast of Australia. Please navigate to the wonderful world of Oz, and make sure you get there post-haste, no lolly-gagging like those Kiwi bludgers.”
New Zealand: “Ease off, ya damp squib. Whoever put you emu shaggers in charge of this trip down the gurgler must’ve had his head up his dunny.”
Great Britain: “I say, has anyone seen Norway?”
[End transmission.]
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Think of it as Gonzo meets Hee Haw: Missoula honky tonker Bob Wire holds forth on a unique life filled with music, parenthood, drinking, sports, working, marriage, drinking, and just navigating the twisted wreckage of American culture. Plus occasional grooming tips. Like the best humor, it’s not for everyone. Sometimes silly, sometimes surreal, sometimes savage, Bob Wire demands that you possess a good sense of humor and an open mind.
Bob Wire has written more than 500 humor columns for a regional website over the last five years, and his writing has appeared in the Missoulian, the Missoula Independent, Montana Magazine, and his own Bob Wire Has a Point Blog. He is a prolific songwriter, and has recorded three CDs of original material with his Montana band, the Magnificent Bastards. His previous band, the Fencemenders, was a popular fixture at area clubs. They were voted Best Local Band twice by the Missoula Independent readers poll. Bob was voted the Trail 103.3/Missoulian Entertainer of the Year in 2007.
You can hear his music on his website, or download it at iTunes, Amazon, and other online music providers. Follow @Bob_Wire on Twitter.
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