His most High Holiness the Dali Lama, Duke Parker, Fletcher Quill and his beloved cat Timba have been jamming with the stow away Keith Richards as Slick Brain's way too fast

Titanium fueled jet enters Irish air space. Quill has been tying a rare set of " Mile High " flies that are composed of famous hair left behind on Slick's jet. The trip has been nothing but fun as all hands jam with the Glimmer Twin, his Holiness has been somewhat aloof staying in his cabin finding his lost center. The private jet's all female crew composed of several " Mitchell Bros" adult star's quite famous in certain circles are now sitting in a circle around his Holiness chanting and putting the finishing touches on a five foot Mandela circle on the main deck floor... Suddenly as reflected in the timeless words of the middle age thinker Bishop Henry King, " Thou will not awake till fate shall overtake..."

" Quill, better come forward now Marine, looks like this little rocket has been on auto pilot for last hour. Slick's hot shot jet jockey is slumped over the joy stick Dude. This bird is headed for oblivion unless one of us can tame this beast!"

" Duke, lets keep this quiet until I speak with his Holiness. Man, I knew this flight was too good to be true. Dude, can you fly this kite?"

" Hate to have to take a whack at it, but what the hey. You confab with the Dali and I'll go forward and see what the drivers seat looks like."

" Excuse me your Holiness it appears we have a very serious problem with this jet would you please follow me to the cockpit."

The Dali Lama and Fletcher Quill tap on the pilots safety door. Duke Parker is busy looking for any vital signs holding his signal mirror an inch from the pilots open mouth.

"Duke, is this guy history or what Marine?"

" No more Mile High club for this jet jockey I'm afraid. Here comes the judge boys, better make peace with your maker unless his Holiness might like to slide into the pilots seat?"

" I love the way you two use the English language, yes I have many hours flying in flight simulators for fun at my exile Palace. Though I have not actually flown a real jet, it must be quite close to the real thing hey Duke?"

" All righty then, why don't you contact Irish air space controllers and Quill and I bring the Glimmer Twin in here, maybe he can help. The Rolling Stones have serious jet air time boys."

The jet's cockpit now occupied by the semi holy triad is buzzing with activity when a familiar voice comes over the intercom, " Dam, is that you Quill, what the hell is going on there Mr. Secretary?"

" Mr. President you sir have perhaps the answers to our little dilemma. Our jet is now pilotless, Duke and the Dali Lama and I are trying to figure out how to land this bird? Didn't you pretend to be a jet jockey back in the day sir?"

" Which one of you is at the stick boys?"

" His Holiness has a lot of flight simulator time and Keith Richards says he and Sir Mick have sat in a few pilots seats over the years, guess the Glimmer Twin is acting copilot on this hair raising gig!"

" Ok Boys, I'll get Slick on the horn, its his baby he can rock it! Don't let on to rest of the passengers those Mitchell Bros babes can get sideways fast. Now check the fuel gauge and I'll get you started until Slick gets here."

" Mr. President, sir this is the Dali lama speaking. I have control of this jet in a sense much like you have control of the global situation. We appear to have about 10 minutes of fuel left and I have been warned we only have enough for one attempted landing. What are all these bright yellow dials and knobs I see all over this control panel?"

" Keith Richards here your Royal Highness, I mean Mr. President. This bloody quick beast is now circling the Irish emergency landing field. If I or rather me and the Dali land this thing how about some kind of American Knighthood for me mate?"

" You got it Keith, you two get that bird down in one piece, I will make you Secretary Quill's special deputy for international wild life protection Dude! Now Dali baby, what the heck could I do for you old man?"

" Perhaps you could build a kite for our first Kite Olympics next year?"

" Slick Brain here lads, now before we take it off Auto Pilot, reach down and grab your ass with both hands and kiss it by by!"

" Very funny Slick, we now have 6 minutes of fuel left, Dali and Keith are sweating bullets, Timba and I can see Raven's Haven, so now what?"

" Dali, look at the large round gauge directly in front of the control stick, see the needle that looks like a compass? You want that needle to balance right in the middle of two lines that intersect. Now look down at the levers next to your seat, they control engine speed. Very good, now when you see the Northern Irish landing lights just ahead we will line up nose up and begin our descent."

" Yes, I see the landing lights coming up quickly. Let us all say a prayer to mighty Dagda the Irish God."

Suddenly over the intercom rolls a voice not expected, " My Boy's, my boy's, It's your one only life saving Abbott Sammy baby!. We just saw your little nasty in-flight biz on our International Emergency Psychic Screen. No worries, from here on Dali, Keith and me will guide your jet safely landing as smooth as Martha Steward's new TV show."

" Quill, who the hell is that other weird ass voice we hear son?"

" It's a much higher authority sir..."

Stay tuned for next episode - Is this the final approach for the semi holy triad? Can Abbott Sammy save their fannies??