As written on the back of a Horizon Air comment card as I was trying not to laugh

We took off a few minutes after the sun dropped below the mountains. One minute it was there, and the next it was gone. The two young, white men behind me in seats behind me kept quoting Friday. While the engines were spinning up, they argued over the best part of the flight, take-off or landing. Landing, apparently, was better, because “you’re there.” As the brakes were tripped and the plane began to move, the one directly behind me started saying “nail it” over and over, apparently in reference to the engine’s RPMs reaching a certain point. When we had accelerated enough to where we were pressed back into our seats, he breathed a single word: “Fuck.” It sounded like a very erotic experience.

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