Buzzing the Department of Delusion and Dementia

Dalgliesh perched precariously on the wing of the ancient World War I biplane as it soared over San Antonio. "You daft bat!" he shouted at the pilot, "this thing hasn't been flown since Biggles!". The pilot gave a thumbs-up and grinned at him. He looked at I-10 and the stream of traffic flowing over it like little ants. They were crossing Huebner Oaks and over DeZavala Road. "Aha!" shouted Dalgliesh excited as the wind whipped past him.

How on earth did he ever get up here, he asked himself rhetorically, and looked at the pilot, Ms. Aerobatics. He remembered the previous evening. They were at it again, now boringly repetitive. Once more making the beast with the two backs and four arms, amorously rubbing their bacons. Somewhere in the nadir of passion, Ms. Aerobatics had suggested the flight over DeZavala University. He had balked at the idea. "Go on! Don't be a coward!" she had said. He had clutched at the sheet and looked at her as she outlined her plan. He felt frightened and tremendously excited.

"Remember!" she had said, resuming once more the joyful rumpy-pumpy, "you have to drink at least 216 fluid ounces of beer." Once more they frolicked. And in the throes of ecstasy he had shouted "Ms. Aerobatics! I name you Virago!"

She signed with her hand, pointing downwards. He peered down and recognized the familiar campus buildings. DeZavala University! He looked down with fear, loathing, and excitement. She looped, bringing the plane down, banking and side-slipping. He gripped the arresting wires holding on lest he should be blown away. She straightened the plane and approached the Psychiatry Building. He looked down at the figure standing on the steps of the building and exulted "it is the Chair of Dementia & Delusion and the Dean of Psychiatry!" He looked at Ms. Aerobatics for reassurance and she gave a wide grin and a thumbs-up.

Ms. Aerobatics brought the plane down in a screaming dive and buzzed the Psychiatry department as his Chair gaped upwards open-mouthed, looking at Dalgliesh balanced precariously on the wing of the plane. People always have their mouths wide open when they look up. With meticulous and precise timing, Dalgliesh unzipped and urinated copiously over the Psychiatry Department.