Anatoly beamed as Ivan met him in the small clearing in the dense pine forest.
“You imbecile!” Ivan shouted.
“What?” a surprised Anatoly asked. “My crew and I did everything you told us to do. We stole the spy plane from the capitalistic, imperial pigs, carefully disassembled it, transported it piece by piece deep into the forest, and painstakingly reassembled it here. Exactly what you asked of me, Ivan.”
“You forget the step where I said to paint the plane’s fuselage in camouflage colors so that it couldn’t be seen by overhead surveillance, Anatoly,” Ivan said angrily. “My team just intercepted this image that was taken by an American drone half an hour ago.” Ivan handed Anatoly the photograph.
“Ah, I see what you mean,” Anatoly said.
Moments later the two men were surrounded by American mercenaries.
Written for this week’s Photo Challenge from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie. Photo credit: David Kovalenko.
Jed and Jud, owners of MotherBrothers Salvage Company, pulled up in their truck. “Well, there it is,” Jed said. “What a hunk of junk.”
“Are you kidding me,” Jud said. “It’s a piece of aviation history. It’s a work of art. We need to figure out how to save that.”
“Are you seeing the same thing I’m seeing?” Jed said. “Our contract is to get that monstrosity outta here and the only way we can do that is to take the fuselage of that away ugly beast apart.”
“Or we can get a large flatbed trailer and haul it to our storage yard in one piece,” Jud said.
“Do you see the size of that thing?” Jed said. “There ain’t no flatbed big enough to haul what’s left of that plane off in one piece.”
“There’s them flatbeds they use to move whole houses, Jed,” Jud said.
“Jud, have you got shit for brains?” Jed said. “It’d cost more to rent some giant flatbed plus a rig large enough to haul that hulk behind it than we’re getting paid. Now go grab your blowtorch and let’s start cutting this thing down to size and sell it for scrap metal.”
Written for Donna McNichol’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: Blair Fraser on Unsplash.