by OLGA KRYSHTANOVSKAYA, Alternate Reality News Service Travel Writer
February 24, 2026. 9:27am. I have been recalled from Earth Prime 5-8-3-7-2-4 dash theta on the pathetic pretext that skyrocketing fuel prices and days-long waits at airports are making it impossible for all but the wealthiest of Vesampuccerians to travel by air, leaving me with nothing to write about. I have arrived at McDruhitmumpf Washburningdington Dullesdishwater (MIAD) Airport in Virginachussets, where I am to catch a plane to New Yoricknuhemwell, the only city on this coast that has a Dimensional PortalTM that can take me back to Earth Prime.
I just have to pass through the Transportation Stymieing Administration checkpoint, and I'll be on my way. What could possibly go wrong?
February 24, 2026. 11:27 am. I can see the TSA gate in the far distance over the heads of the people in line in front of me. I have moved approximately an inch and a half since I got here, mostly because a woman ahead of me had to take her daughter to the bathroom and asked me to keep her place. That was an hour and a half ago, and she hasn't returned. I was going to let her back in line, but I was young and naive; seeing how things are going, if she does show up, she's going to have to take her chances at the back of the line like the rest of us!
February 24, 2026. 3:27 pm. A fistfight broke out a couple of dozen people ahead of me in the line. I didn't catch all of it, but I'm pretty sure one man was demanding that the other take back something he said about the man's pet ocelot Trevor. Or maybe the man was named Trevor. Or maybe the argument was about who would get a lot of beavers. What use rodents would be in this situation is a mystery to me, but then so many things about the United States of Vesampucceri are.
Police were called in to break up the fight. One of the participants had to be taken out on a stretcher; we passed him overhead from one person to another in the line. I'm so glad I took my doctor's advice and have been working on my upper body strength! The police also moved half a dozen people on either side of the fight out of the vast room for questioning, allowing the rest of us to move forward several feet.
Progress!
February 24, 2026. 9:27 pm. The phone of the woman in front of me, an aide to House Speaker Pullyerownjohnson, died a couple of hours ago. I had to talk the twenty-something down from a panic attack; I gave her my makeup bag and told her it was an emotional support kit; she has been clutching it to her chest and rocking back and forth ever since.
An old man standing behind me can't stop complaining about how his boss, Federal Bureau of Instigations Director Kash Patternovlibhell, travels on a government jet, so he doesn't have to deal with the chaos at airports. (This is the most orderly chaos I have ever experienced, but what do I know? Vesampucceri mystery - remember?) I was about to tell him we've all got problems and he should keep his to himself when a huge explosion sounded overhead. Not gonna lie - I flinched like everybody else. When I unflinched, I looked to the ceiling to see if whatever it was had damaged the building. It hadn't.
"Kash never has to put up with this shit!" the man behind me, who was so elderly he creaked even when he wasn't moving, unleashed a string of expletives that would have made a sailor hand the old man his medals.
Oh, and I had to stave off another of the girl's panic attacks. Am I the only sane person in this place?
February 25, 2026. 5:27 am. Some people have started complaining that they fell asleep on their feet and, when they woke up, they were farther behind in the line. Fortunately, I learned to sleep with one eye open in Nam, so when the old man behind me made his move, a swift punch to the kidneys persuaded him not to pursue that action!
February 25, 2026. 3:27 pm. I always carry protein bars in my suitcase when I travel; this isn't my first Romeo! I scarfed one down last night when everybody nearby was sleeping. Others aren't so lucky. Over a dozen people have scampered away to the vending machines, losing their place in line. The rest are ignoring the chorus of gurgling stomachs in the hall and surreptitiously assessing the people around them as sources of protein.
I told the old man behind me that as a tiny east European woman, there wouldn't be much eating on me, and what there was would be tough. We agreed that a plump man a dozen places behind us would offer much more sustenance. And given the circumstances, he would probably look at his sacrifice as a blessing!
February 26, 2026. 3:27 am. I'm halfway to freedom. I can see the gate! It...it's beautiful. There appear to be eight screening areas, only one of which has people working at it. But I'm halfway there! It's only a matter of time before I can get on the flight that will be the start of my journey home. It's only a matter of time...