Johnny whipped out an etch-a-sketch and recorded the lay of the land from above before heading back to the small cave near his starting point. As LJ dove and tore through the thick canopy, banked hard, then climbed again, he decided that flying really wasn't that hard and wondered what the big deal was. He rolled upside down and executed a split S, then broke into a steep chandelle to test the rigidity of the feathers and decided that the wings were pretty cool, but could use some improvement. I'll modify these bitches later, he thought. With expert memory and a keen inner compass Johnny sailed for the cave and thought: I wonder if there's a CB at the LZ, too bad about SD, I feel bad for LT, I could use some Z's.
Johnny folded his wings back and neared sonic velocity in a vertical dive. As LJ broke through some cloud cover over the LZ, he spotted someone rifling through his shit. 50 feet from the deck, LJ flared his wings causing breakneck deceleration before gently touching down. The ballistic crates were opened and all his shit was scattered. "What the fuck man!? said Johnny, You think that just because you're a woman you can touch my stuff? Those are my personal belongings bitch! If you touched my slippers I'll fucking execute your ass right here!" Startled, Ivanna Sukyoff whirled around and pointed a Desert Eagle at LJ's forehead and said in broken English "If you don't know the secret password, you're a dead man". LJ snatched the large automatic out of her hand and pistol-whipped her in the face with it, knocking her down. Johnny stood over her and whipped out his cock so that Ivanna could clearly see the tattoo that ran under the length of his shaft which read: POON-WRECKER. JC
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