John and Aria stood awkwardly in front of her slik black fighter jet.

"You know. It's a tight fit in that jet, even for me. Let alone someone your size. I could maybe fit your dragons in the jet. But not you by yourself." She said.

John tried his hardest to suppress the look of grief from his face.

That means I won't get to be smushed up against a hot girl!

John couldn't help but feel mournful at that. Fact. He had been so excited to smush his flesh into Aria's.

Shut up, John. You met her today. She wouldn't be comfortable with that.

Also, it was physically impossible unless someone could manipulate space somehow. The laws of physics would not allow John to be smushed up against Aria without smushing Aria. But yeah, she wouldn't be comfortable with that. That's what we should focus on.

"So here's what we're going to do. I've got a metal rope in my cockpit made for hauling back any useful loot I'll use for a bombing run. So it should probably be able to carry you. Just barely." Said Aria.

I wanna stick my cock in your pi——— AHHHHHHHHH!

"Is your face always so red, or are you coming down with a fever or something?" Said Aria

My face is red? Shit… I can't tell her the most likely reason.

"I'm probably coming down with a fever."

Aria nodded.

"Okay. So then we'll have to get you back to the compound quickly. Let me strap you up."

Aria pulled a metal rope from the jet and walked up to John she wrapped the long metal rope around him. She looped it once around each of his legs. Then, a few times around his torso such that his arms were pressed up to his torso.

Then, finally, she hooked the metal rope to itself.

"There we go. That should work. Can you get your dragons to get in your cockpit with me?" Asked Aria

John nodded

"STOVE! REFRIGERATOR! BAND-AID! GET IN THE COCKPIT!"

John was sure the dragons didn't fully understand what he was saying. But they knew enough to tell that he wanted them to go somewhere. Then, all they had to do was look where he was looking.

They darted into the cockpit.

"Are those their actual names?" Asked Aria with an incredulous look on her face.

John nodded.

"Yes. I named them after household objects so that I wouldn't forget them."

"Heh." Aria chuckled.

"I once knew someone who named their dog Sobaka. That's dog in Russian. And even her naming sense isn't as stupid as yours!"

John could only furrow his brows. A look of shame was on his face.

"But if not, I would have forgotten them." Said John

Aria simply rolled her eyes.

"Sure thing, big guy."

"Are we going to get going soon?" Asked John

"Yup, Might as well go now."

Aria walked towards her fighter jet. Then hopped in.

"Let's get going."

The sound of a roaring dragon echoed out. Except this roar wasn't from any fantastical beast. It was from a cold construct of intellect and steel. It was from a fucking FIGHTER JET!

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

VROOOOOOOOOM!

The fighter jet slowly turned around. It faced down the runway. Well. It was more of a broken road than a runway. But eh. Tomatos Tomantoes.

The fire coming out of the ass of the jet reached a new level of intensity. It started to move. And John fell flat on his face.

It takes time for any plane to get off the ground. And the rope connected to the fighter jet wasn't longer than the distance it would have to travel.

~Quadrople Sextuple Ten million time two to the power of infinity to the power of infinity to the power of the concept of magnitude itself SHIT!

Was this how John was going to die? His flesh would be torn up by a road and a speeding jet. It wouldn't even be a murder or any enemy that killed him. It would just be a nice girl doing a favour.

John's face paled.

Please no.

The jet started to move.

I need to flip myself around.

John slammed his hand into the moving pavement and with a ferocious act of strength, he managed to flip himself onto his back successfully.

John pushed his knees into his belly. He brought his head up and put his hands forward.

There was enough hard metal roped around John's back that none of it was being touched by the ground. So as long as he could keep it so only his back touched the ground, he should be fine.

The jet began to pick up speed.

John grit his teeth with focus as the jet moved. Sparks set off from the pavement were burning his back, but otherwise. He was mostly uninjured. But his is abs burned from holding himself up. His abs stung like someone had woven steel wire through them. He almost couldn't bear the pain. But he had to. Because otherwise, the road rash would pull his skin off like he was some kind of melting popsicle.

It's do or die, John.

And John was determined to do.

The lift upon the Jet began to increase. And next thing John knew. He was in the air.

Haaaaaa. That was scary.

....

Tell me. What do you think would happen if you let a toddler loose in a tank? If you let them splatter their snot and slobber in every direction and brutally batter every button they see?

I can tell you one thing that would happen. At least ten people would die.

Now, think about this. What would happen if you increased a toddler's energy and ferocity by ten? And multiplied the number of toddlers by three. What would you get?

I'll tell you what you'll get—sheer and utter chaos.

That's what Aria was experiencing right now.

"STOP!"

Darting. Scrambling. Jumping from side to side while they duelled was stove and refrigerator. At the same time as this happened, Band-Aid mewled like a scared child asking for its mother.

At this rate, these things are going to make me crash.

If Aria died from two animals stupid bullshit, she would be mad.

Very very mad.