On a transatlantic flight, a plane passes through a severe
storm. The turbulence is awful, and things go from bad to
worse when one wing is struck by lightning.
One woman, in particular, loses it. Screaming, she stands
up in the front of the plane. "I'm too young to die," she
wails. Then she yells, "Well, if I'm going to die, I want my
last minutes on earth to be memorable! Is there anyone on
this plane who can make me feel like a WOMAN?" For a moment
there is silence. Everyone has forgotten their own peril.
They all stare, eyes riveted, at the desperate woman in the
front of the plane.
Then a cowboy from Alberta stands up in the rear of the
plane. He is handsome: well built, with dark brown hair and
blue eyes. He starts to walk slowly up the aisle,
unbuttoning his shirt, one button at a time. No one moves.
He removes his shirt. Muscles ripple across his chest.
She gasps . . .
He whispers . . .
"Iron this. Then get me a beer."
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