Pilot Hugh & Co.

Chapter 2: The Disco-Very

As the string trio were walking, with Hugh in the lead, the latter stopped.

"Guys, halt," he said, spreading his arms out.

"What is it, Hughie?" Melvyn asked, curious.

"Yeah, what happened?" Mik added. Not saying anything, Hugh silently gestured to the two to get in front of him. All of their eyes locked on a specific object.

"Oh, Melvyn... look," Mik said.

Like the other two, Melvyn's sparkling sapphire blue eyes scanned the area, until they locked on an enormous, blue-colored, smooth, fresh, shiny airliner.

Melvyn gasped.

"OH WOW!!! IT'S A PLAAAAANE," the clean-shaven cellist yelled. He jumped up and down for what seemed like 5 minutes. Mik and Hugh, peeling their shocked eyes away from the gorgeous aircraft, turned to look at Melvyn, startled.

"Errrrrm, how does he not get tired doing that?" Mik asked, ever so slightly uneasy. Hugh shook his head.

"Melvyn is just... Melvyn. You cannot question him. He transcends what we know about the universe and existence itself," Hugh replied, matter-of-factly.

Melvyn turned around with his eyes wide and his mouth wide open curled into a smile.

"Because, Mik... it's a plane! I love planes!!!" Melvyn replied, hyperactive.

"Uh... yeah... I can... see that you love planes... ahaha... ha..." Mik replied awkwardly.

"Not just planes!!! I LOVE SOARING!!!" Melvyn cried, throwing his hands in the air and looking up at the sky, his long feathery auburn hair flailing. Mik flinched and Hugh stood there silently staring at Melvyn.

Hugh cleared his throat.

"Um... okay then! Mel, your dream will come true!" Hugh replied, also awkwardly.

"REALLY?" Melvyn asked, grabbing Hugh's hands.

"Hugh, what do you mean?" Mik asked, confused. Hugh walked up to the plane.

"Wait, where are you going?" Mik asked, even more confused.

"HEY WAIT FOR ME YOU JERK!" Melvyn howled, charging after Hugh like an angry wasp. He left a puff of air as he ran after the younger cellist, the cool blast from the force of Melvyn's sprinting almost knocking Mik down.

"Guys, really. What are you two doing?" Mik asked, and he started jogging up to the two cellists.

"Oh, me? I'm going to fly the thing!" Hugh declared, flipping his long, shiny, glossy auburn hair out of his face. He stepped on the stairs of the airplane, with Melvyn behind him climbing them rapidly.

"What?" Mik asked, bewildered.

"Yes! You heard that right Mik! I, Hugh McDowell, am a qualified pilot!" Hugh declared pompously, standing in the plane. Melvyn turned around to face Hugh jaw-dropped.

"Are you sure? I don't believe you. Prove it," Mik spat, skeptical. He climbed up stairs to meet the other two.

Hugh stuck his hand in his dress shirt pocket and shifted it around in there and got out his pilot license and handed it to Mik.

"Yup, I ain't lying," the mustachioed pilot replied. Mik held the cold, plastic card in his hands and gazed at it.

"Huh... that's cool," he said, smiling.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!!!! YAAAAAAAY! THAT'S SO COOL!" Melvyn screamed, pulling his pilot friend close to him, giving him a tight hug. Hugh almost couldn't breathe.