http://omegle.com is a cool site where you can chat with random strangers. here is my omegle conversation:
You: I flew with your old man. VF-51, the Oriskany. You’re a lot like he was. Only better… and worse. He was a natural heroic son of a bitch that one.
You: You’re here ’cause you’re the top one per cent of all naval aviators.
Stranger: gimmy dat cp?
You: Ghost Rider, this is Strike. We have unknown aircraft inbound Mustang. Your vector zero-nine-zero for bogey.
Stranger: oh shi
You: ONE ON OUR SIX! BUG OUT! BUG OUT!
Stranger: oh shit oh sh
You: Bring it left. Bring it left, You’re high.
Stranger: redleader standing by
You: Don’t screw around with me Maverick. You’re a hell of an instinctive pilot. Maybe too good. I’d like to bust your butt but I can’t.
You: The rules of engagement are not flexible. They exist for your safety. You will obey them.Is that clear?
Stranger: because we must destroy the dethstar
You: Is that why you fly the way you do? Trying to prove something? Yeah your old man did it right. What I’m about to tell you is classified. It could end my career. We were in the worst dogfight I ever dreamed of. There were bogeys like fireflies all over the sky. His F-4 was hit, and he was wounded, but he could’ve made it back. He stayed in it, saved three planes before he bought it.
Stranger: get ready
You: The hottest moves in the world aren’t gonna help you if you wind up alone. Your wingman’s got to be able to follow you. Trust you. Know that he can depend on you. It’s more than just fancy flying.
Stranger: its okay
You: You fly reckless. Great instincts. No discipline. That ambush today, you followed your emotions instead of your wingman. Of course you got killed…and well deserved to. It was a really stupid mistake. In battle, it gets people killed.
Stranger: i have photon torpedos
You: Talent is no holy shield. Von Richtofen was killed by a farm boy. Instincts are not enough. Do it our way. We’ve worked these things out. The good pilots can become better and the great ones can learn how to stay alive. Why do you have to do everything the hard way?
Stranger: i know
You: My first squadron in Vietnam, we lost eight out of eighteen planes. Ten guys. The first one kills you, but there’ll be others–you can count on it.
Stranger: ackbar be with us
Stranger: my squad onj alduran died
Stranger: and its all your fault
You: Son, your ego is writing checks your body can’t cash. You’ve been busted, you lost your qualifications as section leader three times, put in hack twice by me, with a history of high speed passes over five air control towers, and one admiral’s daughter!
You: BREAK LEFT! BREAK LEFT! CHAFF! FLARES!
You: GHOST RIDER, THIS IS MUSTANG. PERMISSION TO FIRE. PERMISSION TO FIRE.
Stranger: red leader
Stranger: stay sharp
You: VOODOO ONE, MUSTANG. VOODOO THREE IS HIT. GOING DOWN. WILL ATTEMPT SAR.
Stranger: you got 3 at 6:00
You: I’m gonna take him, Goose.
You: We can send you back to your squadron with nothing noted on your record except “CNC” –course not completed, no explanation required. Theoretically, it doesn’t hurt your career, but people always wonder about things like that.
You: All you’ve got is one life. I guess it’s worth about the same to every body. You ever see an old woman after her husband has died?
Stranger: pull up
You: And the meaningless years of decline stretch ahead… When you’re in the air and doing something really dangerous, you can look ahead… maybe ten seconds. That’s your whole future. That’s as far as it goes. But imagine what those seconds are worth.
Stranger: your gonna crash!!!
You: Maverick, you just did an incredibly brave thing. What you should have done was land your plane! You don’t own that plane, the tax payers do!